"Current..." Alaric whispers. "Follow... the current. It leads... out."
I help him sit up. "Can you move?"
"Have to," he says.
We stand up in the pitch blackness. I wrap my arm around him. He leans on me. We begin to walk along the narrow ledge, following the sound of the rushing water deeper into the earth.
Above us, far away, the dogs are barking. But down here... Down here, it is just us and the dark.
CHAPTER 20
THE UNDERWORLD
POV: Elodie Fray
Location:The Underground River System (Beneath the Mountains)
Track:Into the Deep– Zola Jesus
Sensory:The suffocating weight of absolute darkness, the bone-crushing cold of glacial water, the echo of labored breathing against wet stone.
Mood:Hypothermic Delirium & Primal Desperation.
The darkness isn't just an absence of light. Down here, it is a physical weight. It presses against my eyeballs, heavy and suffocating, a velvet blindfold tied tight by a cruel god.
There is no up. There is no down. There is only the freezing, rushing violence of the water around my shins and the rough, slime-coated limestone wall under my fingertips.
"Alaric?" I whisper. The sound is swallowed instantly by the echo of the cavern.
"Here," his voice rasps, close to my ear. He is leaning heavily on me, his arm draped over my shoulders like a wet, leaden cloak. I can feel the tremors racking his body—violent, rhythmic shudders that vibrate through my own ribcage.
We are walking blind. Every step is a gamble. I slide my boot forward, testing the uneven rock shelf that runs alongside the underground river. Sometimes the stone is slick with algae. Sometimes it crumbles. Twice, I have almost slipped back into the black water, only Alaric’s dead weight anchoring me to the ledge.
"Keep moving," I chant, the words a mantra against the encroaching numbness. "Left foot. Right foot. Don't stop."
"Elodie..." Alaric slurs. His head lolls, bumping against my temple. His skin is freezing, clammy against my neck. "Tired."
"I know," I say through chattering teeth. My own body feels distant, like I’m piloting a machine made of ice and pain. The bite on my arm throbs in time with my heartbeat—a dull, hot pulse in a world of cold. "We can't stop. If we stop, we sleep. If we sleep, we die."
"Sounds... peaceful," he murmurs.
"No!" I shout, the anger flaring hot in my chest. I dig my fingers into his side, right near his wound. "Pain is information, remember? Feel it. Wake up!"
He hisses, stumbling. "Cruel... girl."
"You made me this way."
We trudge on. Minutes stretch into hours. Or maybe it’s been days. Time doesn't exist in the underworld. There is only the sound of the water—a relentless, roaring static that fills my head, drowning out my thoughts. I start to see things in the dark.Flashes of color that aren't there. A red curtain. The keys of a piano glowing white. My father’s face, floating in the water, watching me with dead eyes.
Hypothermia,my rational brain whispers.Visual hallucinations. Confusion. Lethargy.We are dying.
My foot hits something hard. Metal. I stumble, dragging Alaric down with me. We crash onto the wet stone. "Ow," I groan, reaching out to feel what tripped me. It’s cold. Rusted. Iron bars. Embedded in the rock.
I trace them with my numb fingers. It’s a gate. An old, wrought-iron gate, half-buried in the silt and stone of the cavern floor. "Alaric," I whisper, shaking him. "Structure. There’s structure down here."
"What?" he groans, trying to push himself up.
"Iron. Man-made." I run my hands along the wall. The rough limestone gives way to... brick? Yes. Slimy, moss-covered brick. "We’re not in a natural cave anymore. We found something."
