Never had anything felt so instinctuallyright.
My irises weren’t bright enough to illuminate the tree’s interior, but they scattered the shadows, so I leaned closer, stepping in—
My toes were touching solid ground, and then they weren’t. It was like the bottom of the tree disintegrated, taking my weight down with it, and for the second time in a single minute, I fell. Three hands were quick to stop my momentum.
For Domus’ sake.
“I touched the base before. I swear it was solid seconds ago,” Stefano said with confusion as they hauled me back up.
Harthon’s grip on my waist guided me back a step.
Aric skirted around me, kneeled, and ran a hand along the ground where I’d been standing. The appendage disappeared as his body leaned forward.
“It’s like some sort of slide,” he observed, bracing his free hand so he could follow the slope further. When he’d gone as far as he could, he retreated and rubbed the dirt from his palm. “There are tree roots running along it. Themagvisprobably used them to climb her way out, then sealed the hole back up behind her.”
Somewhere beyond the tree, a twig snapped. I jolted, craning around the trunk to see what Joris and Stefano already monitored. The Horrads had caught up. There were still no weapons in their hands, but being where themagvishad escaped the Domus surfaced a new worry.
When I’d encountered themagvis,she was bleeding out. From the way the Horrads treated me, they wouldn’t have attacked her. But why would she have run all the way to Second Territory instead of staying here with people who would want her safe—especially if she was injured?
It didn’t make sense.
Then again, the Horrads weren’t the most welcoming bunch. I wouldn’t want to camp with them alone, either.
The Horrad leader took the two torches, approached, and extended them in offering. Stefano and Joris took them cautiously, but the leader simply dipped their burlap-covered head and retreated to their companions.
It seemed they weren’t here to stop us, after all.
Harthon took Joris’ torch and relayed the plan. He and Joris would go first, followed by me and Stefano, finishing with Aric.When he was done, he waved the flame into the base of the tree, leaned in, and dropped the torch. The orange light fell away from his face and disappeared completely.
“Looks like two, maybe three stories at most,” Harthon reported, pushing out from the tree. He turned around, dropped to his knees, and eased himself over the edge.
I couldn’t help but worry that he’d be met with some kind of threat, but hardly a minute had passed when his muffled voice traveled up to us. “It’s clear. The roots go all the way down.”
Joris followed, and then it was my turn. I positioned myself as they had, found the two thickest roots, and eased my legs down the steep decline, remembering all too well how unskilled I was at repelling from high places.
“You got this,” Stefano quietly encouraged.
And if you don’t, Harthon will cushion your fall.
But as I slid my hands down, my arms already felt stronger, my grip steadier than when I’d last jumped from my window.
The last thing I saw before my head dipped underground were the blank visages of the Horrads that would no doubt plague my nightmares, and the wolf turning tail and trotting away.
* * *
Princeps Aric—he who displayed his greatest kills as trophies on his wall—was claustrophobic.
He was doing his best to hide it, but the torchlight, made more concentrated in the confined space, revealed the tight pull to his mouth and the way his nostrils flared on every heavy breath. If that hadn’t given it away, his silence would have.
That wasn’t to say the rest of us were exactly comfortable. Made of dirt and mud, the tunnel had been carved deep in the underbelly of the land, slightly winding in its path. It was tallenough for Harthon to stand upright, but only wide enough for two of us to stand side-by-side. Roots dangled from above, lining the walls in a kind of netting, as if they were all that kept the ground from caving in and burying us. The air was tinged with mold and weighted with an unnatural stillness, reminding us with every inhale that we were not in a place humans were meant to be.
It would be challenging to transport resources out of the Domus through here. We’d be limited to a single stream of movement, not to mention the challenges of the Horrads at the other end. Maybe we could widen the path, but if those roots were supporting the tunnel’s structure, we’d have to be careful.
Time lost all meaning as we trekked, the monotonous walls and lack of daylight sucking us into an unsettling void. Occasionally, the walls would open to other tunnel branches, but a swipe of torchlight would show them overgrown and crumbling, completely impassable. At one time, they may have been good decoys, but now, it was clear which path themagvishad used to leave Centralis.
Perhaps that was why the kernel in my chest had been soft and quiet since we reached the tree. Its role here was done.
We didn’t know how much time had passed when something other than muck and roots appeared. At the first brush of light from Harthon’s torch, it appeared as jagged rock jutting from the tunnel ceiling, like a miniature mountain range laid across the surface. On his next step, some light reflected back from a handful of tiny peaks. Then its color came, and with it, the awe.
