“Because in Ithicana, you will always feel alive,” she replied, helping him climb higher. Her blood rushed loud in her ears, vomit threatening to rise, but she swallowed hard. “Climb.”
The climb itself was easy by comparison, even with her arm being as weak as it was. She encountered only one snake, which she tossed into the water to feed the sharks, for she always favored the latter over the former.
“I’ll climb first and then pull you up,” James said when they found the rope, which was fastened to one of the brackets set into the bridge itself. “You’re going to rebreak that arm if you aren’t careful.”
Given how much it hurt, Ahnna didn’t argue, and after swiftly reaching the top, James pulled her up with ease.
The view from atop the bridge was incredible, their little ship seeming tiny below, but there was no time to take a breath, much less relish the moment. “This way.”
They left a trail of water droplets as they ran down the bridge top, and despite her fear for her people, she still noted his awe at the magnitude of the bridge. To her, it was an old friend, a constant presence in her life, but it was not lost on her that there had been no civilization in recorded history capable of building this sort of structure.
Or the spiral on which the Sky Palace sat, for that matter.
Reaching the hatch, she dropped to her knees. “This opens into the bridge. Be ready for anything.”
Then she pressed her palms against the stone.
The mechanism activated and lifted the panel of rock, revealing cavernous darkness. Reaching into the empty space carved into rock surrounding the opening, Ahnna withdrew two small jars and one larger one. She poured the contents of the two smaller ones into the larger one, and immediately, the mixture began to glow. “It won’t last long. Fifteen minutes at most.”
“Is there another source of light?” James asked.
“No,” she replied, holding the jar in her broken arm and then drawing her knife. “There is only darkness.”
Then she dropped down into the bridge.
Ahnna’s boots hit the stone floor with a soft thud, and as she moved aside to allow James to drop down, the bridge’s familiar moan filled her ears. James immediately froze, his eyes going to her. “The spiral makes that sound when the wind hits it just right.”
“I know.” She set her jar and knife down. “Lift me so I can close the hatch.”
His hands closed around her hips and he lifted, her fingers finding the mechanism to close the hatch easily.
“How does it work?” James asked, staring up.
Ahnna only shrugged. “No one really knows, although we think some elements came later than the bridge itself. Millennia ago, or maybe longer, who can say. Some say it was a civilization with tools lost to time. Others say the hands of God. Others believe it was magic. I personally prefer the mystery of not knowing.”
Picking up the jar and her knife, Ahnna headed north.
There was no light ahead, no sound other than the bridge’s moan, and a chill sank into her skin.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone near?”
No one answered, and a shiver ran over her. James pressed closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, his sword in his other hand. “Something doesn’t feel right,” he whispered softly, looking over his shoulder. “Something smells wrong.”
“It’s just the bridge stone. It smells like—” Ahnna broke off, because her nose picked up the scent of something decidedly fouler than the bridge’s mysterious material.
Vomit. And excrement.
She’d known they were too late, but the proof almost brought her to her knees.
James lowered his arm from around her shoulders and moved to give himself space to swing a sword, glancing back more than once at the way they came.
The shadows came into view. The sides of the tunnel were lined with sacks of grain and flour, but written in red across the walls over and over was one word.
Poison.
Her breath was far too rapid, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Ahnna fought for composure lest she cause herself to pass out, but her fear cared nothing for her efforts.
Especially as the bodies came into view.
