Hanan wipes the dust from her face and hair. She checks baby Raina, who is miraculously unhurt. ‘We’ve got Biba and Raina; they’re all right.’
‘We can’t stay here,’ Hanan says, slowly. ‘We’re going to run out of air, and I don’t know if I can move the obstruction.’
My heartbeat is thundering in my ears, going faster than seems possible. It’s drumming a boisterous jig in my chest. I feel like I’ve swallowed a bird and it’s beating against the cage of my sore ribs. I breathe short, sharp gulps of air and Hanan grips my arms.
‘What’s happening?’
‘I can’t breathe.’
‘Look at me,’ she says, holding my face in her hands. I focus on her touch, and it calms me. ‘We fixed your ribs but there’s only so much we can do. It needs time, and healing is painful.’
‘What should I do?’ I ask, plaintive. I try to breathe slow and deep.
‘Imagine cool water washing over you,’ she guides me, voice low. ‘Sink into it. It touches your wrists, your neck, your cheeks. You float, weightless, in a lake.’
Her hands are on the insides of my wrists now, my palms, drawing circles with her fingers. They are cold, almost a shock at first, but then it feels wonderful on my skin. We listen to my breathing. It’s almost regular and slow. I look at her face as she listens to my breathing. Her eyes are feline, focused, and her lips are parted slightly.
‘I hear a bird.’
We turn and see Biba standing in the entrance of a tunnel. It’s so small, we hadn’t noticed it before. It’s just above the height of her and she’s crouched, looking deeper underground.
‘No, Biba, wait!’
It’s too late. ‘The birdy shows the way. There’s light here; I can see it!’
Her voice echoes out as we run towards the tunnel, trying to grab at her dress as it disappears into the gloom.
chapter fifty-five
finlyr
‘Isagani,’ I say,reaching for them in the darkness. They find my hand, and we breathe together, and I try not to cough through the foulness.
I listen as the rocks finally settle, muffled voices on the other side of the wall.
‘Wait, where did they go?’ Isagani asks, scrabbling at the rock.
‘They must be looking for another way out,’ I insist, hauling us to our feet. I scrutinise Isagani, checking their scratches and bruises. ‘Are you hurt?’
Isagani shakes their head, wiping the dirt from their eyes. ‘Let’s look around.’
Sinigang scours the walls, limping. ‘There’s no telling where any of these passages lead, if they lead anywhere.’
‘Will you be all right?’ I ask Sinigang, gently taking his paw in my hand. I brush away the fur to see his skin better, although that’s futile in this lack of light. There’s a gloaming light under the dust, but the darkness flattens everything, distance impossible to tell without touch.
The otter-cat closes his eyes slowly, more weary than in pain. After a moment he raises his head, ears flicking.
‘Do you hear that?’ he asks, walking away and following something we can’t sense.
I get low and follow. I can’t hear what he hears, but the air is less foul. It’s almost bittersweet, something I can’t quite place. It’s fresher, a memory of something warm, something alive.
‘What do you hear?’ Isagani asks quietly.
‘A song,’ Sinigang says. His pupils are dilated, and he straightens up, walking with purpose, limp entirely gone. He pads over to the edge of the pool.
‘Please don’t tell me you’re proposing going back in there?’ I ask, staring into the dark abyss. Some of the fallen stalactites float on the surface. ‘That cave almost cost us our lives.’
‘You forget, I’m part otter,’ Sinigang says calmly.
