Aquifer (4 page)

A
n hour later, we’re still stumbling downward. The road that once carried dump trucks of gold ore to the surface has, in many places, washed away. One misstep and we would tumble onto the next stretch of spiraling road, one hundred feet below us. The Amongus would not care that Lendi died. The world would mourn my passing.

I think about this. Left, slight jog right … what lies in my mind makes my life more valuable than my mate’s. It isn’t right. The route should be given to all children — all should be forced to memorize it, right along with the pledge to Rabal and the present-day PM.

I’m not worth more.

“Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three,” Lendi counts as we pass each cave. “We need to hurry. It will soon be too dark for me to keep track.” He mutters, “Large number thirty-four on the other side, with thirty-five …”

His anxious recitation fills me with joy. He too knows a route. His life is certainly valuable.

I’ll have to tell him.

But now, I have questions for my mate — questions about the caves, which were blasted, I know, into the sides of the mine. Why are some small? Why does the air chill me when I pass?

How deep do they go?

We quicken our pace. Lendi no longer glances at the path; he is driven, and his desire excites me. A tingle runs my spine, first up and then down. Excitement, the ultimate wrinkle. I descend, like my father descends. Right now, we both wind into the heart of the earth, toward the promise of water.

I am every bit his son, and the tingle strengthens.

“We are close. Cave fifty-four. I found it in fifty-four. The water is higher this year. We’re lucky. Next year it may be too late.”

Lendi stops. This is good, as water from the flooded mine now laps my shoes. My mate turns triumphant, his arms spread at his side. “Welcome to fifty-four!”

The cave is unremarkable, its mouth neither large nor small. But the damp air that floats from it smells of something Other, a scent I’ve never smelled.

“Yep. That smell is what stopped me last year. That and the water — I couldn’t go down much farther. Come on.” Lendi digs into his pocket and pulls out his red orb, which offers a pale glow. “I thought we’d need light, I just didn’t think we’d need it so soon. Follow me.”

He climbs over rubble and vanishes into the tunnel. I crawl after him, following the shadows and pinkish glimmer dancing on the walls.

The cave is broad and spacious, and Lendi is soon well ahead of me.

“Don’t get lost!” he calls back.

“Don’t go so fast!”

Minutes later, we still descend, and my ears pop. The walk is easy; the breathing is not. Foul air hangs like turtle soup — and I force it in, force it out.

“Lendi!” I turn a gentle corner. “Slow —”

I bump into my friend. Sweat pours from his face, and his eyes are large and bloodshot in the orb’s light. “We’re here.” He points. “Through that pinch, in that offshoot. You won’t find bugs. I’ll let you go first.”

I step back and bend, hands on knees, searching for air. “I’m a little winded. Maybe you should go first.”

Lendi shakes his head. “You, friend.”

Friend
. Though I’ve never doubted it, he’s never called me by the term. His voice — its cadence and strength — is different. His breathing, light and free. This is not the Lendi I know, and on the heels of that thought worms in another.

No!
I shake my head.
Lendi couldn’t be an Amongus
.

Yet it would be so like them. Planted in our lives, sleepers waiting to reveal themselves after information is gathered.

Lendi saw Walery! He saw the Wishers
. My heart both rejects and aches with the betrayal.

“Remind me.” I straighten and peek back up the tunnel. “Where do your parents think you are?”

“Caesar’s. Or was it Kern’s? I forget, but it doesn’t matter. Once you’re inside, you’ll forget all about what was said to reach here.”

I step back. “Why will I forget?”

“Trust me.” Lendi advances and hands me his orb. “Go in.”

I reach out and take the light. I can’t outrun him; I never could. He’s always been quick, strong. A little too strong. Why didn’t I see?

“I’ll go.” I march by him and drop to my knees. “No matter what, you’ve been the best friend I’ve had.”

Lendi frowns and gestures toward the pinch. “It’s getting late, we have a long walk back, and I’m not going to wait another year to show you!”

I creep forward through the tube, the rock rubbing my shoulders. For once, it’s good to be small. What torment to be here forever! To be trapped. I think of Father, descending into the hideous lair of the Rats. Strange, I never asked if there were any tight passages.

I never asked him about Lendi either, and now my mate knows my greatest act of rebellion. Walery’s rescue is an undoable offense. Would Lendi do the punishing deed in this cave? Nobody would find me.

The squeeze loosens, and I stand and hold up the light. And drop the light.

Lendi is not an Amongus
.

He grunts in behind me and places the orb back into my hand. “Well? Not bugs, eh?”

Stacks and stacks of bound papers, large and small, lean against every stone wall. The musty smell is overpowering, the same smell hinted at near the mouth of the cave.

“I found them. Hundreds of years old, I’d say. From the Scratching Time.” Lendi walks toward an open one, then bends over and hands it to me. “Books, right?”

“Books,” I whisper. “Filled with words, words that nobody can read. And there are so many.”

Father cherishes the one he has. I bet he’d love more
.

“You’ve heard Teacher Two say it, and it’s a quote from the PM himself: ‘There’s nothing so dangerous as a man poisoned by words.’ Lendi picks up another book and shakes it. “But seeing them now, I don’t understand the danger, why people fought and killed for them. Why did Rabal want a bunch of paper stacks destroyed?” Lendi scratches his head. “But here’s the rub. If it’s discovered I found a stash and didn’t turn them in, I’ll be undone. And if I do turn them in, it’ll at least warrant a debriefing. It is the ultimate wrinkle.” He sweats more profusely, and he wipes his forehead with each sleeve. “But I had to tell somebody. Before I destroyed them, I had to show you. Nobody else would believe me.”

“Destroy them?”

“Do you know why I had to stay a Fifteen twice? Why I failed? All day, every day, I sit in school circle and stare at my dial. I don’t listen to Teacher. I can’t. I must will my dial still, because pounding inside are thoughts of this room, this cave. I can’t hide it anymore, Luca.”

He gnaws a fingernail and continues. “My father says what’s scratched inside these can steal you, control you. I tell you he’s right. I can’t read scratches, but just finding them has controlled me. Books are not supposed to exist anymore.”

I wander among the stacks. “Hard to see how a bunch of marks could hurt anybody.”

I stare at the weapon in my hand; the one we’re told brought ruin on the world. I flip the page, squint, and rub my fingers over the crinkled paper.

“This is called the Table of Contents,” I whisper.

Lendi steps beside me. “What do you mean? How do you know?”

I can’t answer. I’m not certain. But it’s there, deep in the
dark part of my mind. “It’s divided into sectors, called chapters. Each chapter into para … paragraphs, sentences, words, letters, and sounds. That’s how you use one. Make the sounds your best mate.”

“Stop it, Luca!” Lendi grabs the book from my hands and throws it to the ground. “This was a mistake. We need to leave.” He takes a matchbook from his pocket. “We’ll start the fire and leave.”

“Fire? We can’t burn these. They’re … they’re history.”

“They’re evil, Luca. And it’s the only way. The water will rise, some will float out, someone will find them, we will all hear, and I won’t be able to keep my emotions in check. I’m cursed, Luca, until they’re destroyed.”

Lendi is right; if a book is discovered, he will not be able to control himself.

For the third time in two days, I lie. “Let me do it, mate. It’s the best way. Go, and leave me the matches.” I lower my voice. “I’ll take care of them.”

“You’d do that for me?” His anxious tone returns.

My feet splash into a puddle. “The cave mouth is above the waterline. How did water —” I raise the orb. “There’s a crawl space in the corner. Did you follow that tube? Where does that go?”

“Who cares?” The Lendi I know has returned. There is no more determination, only concern. “We need to go now.”

“Go.” I ease him toward the entrance. “I want to follow that cave. I’ll be fine — I know the way home.”

“And you’ll burn these.”

“I will.”

Lendi presses the matches into my hand and ducks into the pinch. “Don’t say too long. It’s almost dark.” He pauses.
“And beware. There’s something about those stacks. The very thought infests the mind.”

He’s gone, and I lower myself to the floor, my mind thoroughly infested. I inch forward beneath the rocky outcrop into the offshoot. Water licks my chin, laps against my ear.

I press my face into the small pocket of air, and thankfully the ceiling soon rises. The orb illumines the rocks above and I stand, dripping in a small chamber. And soon jerk back.

A skeleton reclines in the corner, submerged to the waist. Rags float off its bones and its arm reaches up to a hollow in the stone. Stark white fingers grasp a book resting in the crevice.

I swallow hard. No shackles ring the wrists or ankles; this one’s life wasn’t taken. This person chose his end. “Who were you?” I raise the light to the book. “You must’ve wanted to keep this one safe.” My fleshy fingers join boney ones on the book’s cover. “Problem is, water’s seeping in from somewhere. It’s going to reach your prize soon, then it will flow up the rise into the bigger chamber as well.” I give thought to Lendi, and then my father. Finally, I think of this ancient one, whose last act was to guard this stack of pages.

“Honestly, how important can it be, lying hidden for centuries? And I did make a promise to my mate.”

I dig for the matches; wet and useless.
So much for that
.

Father must be nearing his exchange. Father. He would know what to do.

Take the book, Luca
.

The command is so distinct, it strikes me as audible. A gentle voice, both familiar and safe. I scoff at the thought.
That’s what I get from letting Wishers inside my head
.

“I’m losing it, but, hey, I tell you what,” I address the skeleton.
“I can keep this book safe for you.” I grasp it, and a boney hand splashes near my knees.

I stumble backward. “Sorry, I really need to go.”

Back through the cut, into the bookroom, and through the pinch. I stand and start back up the tunnel, emerging onto the broad path. Lendi runs on the other side, nearing the top.

There’s nobody waiting for me, and I slowly plod with my ancient book. To hold this thing, this banned thing. To find a stash the Amongus missed, and bones protecting it. It frees me. Tonight, I too feel like a Wisher, living outside the Amongus’s domain. To be unobserved on this day of descent. To feel the thrill of the find, knowing I will not be questioned or worse.

To be my own person, making my own choices …

I clutch the book, the book that destroyed Lendi’s year and empowers my night.

“You will not be burned,” I whisper, and wrap the contraband in burlap.

What a gift for Father. And there are hundreds more …

But there will be no other night, not for another year. I need to get them all while the streets are clear, and the Amongus are in their homes.

I clutch the book to my chest. I know a way, and break into a run.

“I’ll be back.”

I
sit on Freemanl Pier, the moon low and red in the sky, its light dancing on the waters deep.

There is nobody out tonight, not a soul in a city of ten thousands. It is the collective hold-your-breath. My father is at the center of an event that brings the entire world together. For once a year, the world feels, and what it feels — though it does not know it — is dread.

I never want to be the center of that event.

What if I fail?

My secret rests on my lap. I stroke the book’s cover like Father strokes his. I will not open it until I’m home.

Not ten feet in front of me, a great light suddenly blinds me.

Seward
.

His boat eases to shore, and he quickly douses his floodlight and ties the prow to the pier.

“What manner of fool is out tonight?” he hisses. “I carry a load that —”

“It’s not best for a respectable businessman like yourself to be found carrying?”

“Aye. That’s a way of puttin’ it. But I struck well tonight. I’m finished. Move off, I need to unload on the winched dolly.” He glances both right and left, lowering his voice. “Best you not see.”

I slowly stand. “I need your help. I need it tonight.”

“At two in the mornin’? There’s a craziness about you.”

I grimace, thinking what to share, what to hold. “I’ve found a treasure. I need you to help me get it to my home.”

Seward’s face turns sly, and inside he’s thinking, calculating, I’m sure of it. He wonders how he can remove the treasure from my possession.

“This deal be from one pirate to another … Why didn’t ye just come out with it, lad? For this, I’m always here.” He lowers his face so it is equal with mine, and the smell of fish and ale overpowers. “What manner of treasure?”

I glance at the burlap in my hand. “To possess it is to be debriefed. Perhaps undone. Do you still want to know?”

Seward whitens and straightens. “I’m already in a pickle with them. I need no more reason for their … special attention.” He takes a step past me, and I grab his shirt.

“I know the gruesome task you do. The retrieval of the undones from their watery dropping point. Father told me.” I kick at the dock. “You perform this service for the Watchers, the Amongus, and they wink at the water casks you steal.”

Seward exhales slowly. “So Massa tells you all my good traits —”

“If your mates knew just who your employers were, it wouldn’t sit well. Would it?”

“What do you want, little blackmailer?” His eyes twinkle.

“No.” I step back. “No questions. Can you sit with that?”

Seward stares out over the sea, waiting, it seems, for the sea to answer. Then it does.

“Can I get more than your word for the silence you’ll keep?”

“My word is all I have.” I nod. “As the future Deliverer.”

Seward rubs his face. “Luca, you are a pain. Help me unload.” He pauses. “Can you stand the sight of an undone?”

I think back to the guard of the cave. “Oh, I imagine so.”

I am wrong.

The skeleton was unreal, distant. An unknown collection of rotting bones. As I drag the recently undone across the deck, I can’t help but wonder about their families, their children and parents. Seward and I hoist his retrievals into bags. Zipping the clasp over their fixed gazes, I know one thing: They are human. No different than me.

We finish Seward’s work and he flashes me a glance. Does he almost look ashamed? I try to soften my gaze, to let him know it’s okay, he’s okay, but beneath the light of moon he turns from me and unties from the dock.

Seward’s boat moves silently through the water. Though engine powered, there is not a sound but the lap of waves on the hull. It’s a boat made for stealth, not for speed.

“Glaugood. What is here to you?” He pulls into the old mine’s port.

I shake my head. “I’ll need the dolly and whatever wraps and straps you have.”

“Body bags are the best I can do.”

“Very good.” I hop out and gesture for the dolly.

“Luca, wait. I can only give you four hours.” Seward peeks at the sky. “If you be needin’ to be emptyin’ a cave, you’ll not reach it and back. But —”

“But?”

“You forget, the mine is filled to sea level.”

“So …”

“So, we’re in a boat, and I be the great Seward of the Seas. The mine has crumbled. We float in.”

“Brilliant!” I leap back into his craft. “Lead on, noble pirate.”

Minutes later, we leave the open sea and silently glide beneath an arch of stone.

“Glaugood.” Seward glances around. “To be sure, much gold was found, but they dug too near the sea, and the sea always reclaims her own. Many times I have hidden in this basin. I’ve found it a very private port.” He clears his throat. “I’m none too pleased to share it.”

“This is the last time I’ll come. Promise.”

We float into the water-filled mine. “We need to find cave fifty-four. I’m turned around. Can you take me around the perimeter?” I stand and squint. “I can’t see to the top to count, but I’ll know it by the smell.”

It’s easier than I think to locate the cave. The scent is more pronounced than it was two hours ago. Seward tosses his anchor into the cave’s mouth, and I slosh my way into it.

“Twelve bags is what I got.” Seward pitches them forward, where they land at my feet. I stack and drag them down the tunnel. Once inside the bookroom, I place my orb on the floor and stuff books. Sweat pours down the small of my back, mats my hair and stings my eyes, but soon every bag is filled, and I back through the pinch, hauling each load into the larger tunnel.

Father, I wish I had your strength …

Hours pass, and finally I lug the last bag of books through the squeeze and onto Seward’s weighted boat.

“Done.” I collapse beside him and we float back out to sea. The feat I performed would have been nothing to Lendi, but my arms scream.

“Get me to the Shallows.”

“What are they, Luca?”

“I don’t think you should know. I don’t think that’s safe.”

Seward shrugs. “Books never are.”

I fire him a glance.

“Oh, wipe that look from ya. What’dya think I be doing while you loaded me down with your illegal cargo?”

Of all the people to know. A pirate … who works for them.

“Fine.” I fold my arms. “The tables are turned. What can I pay
you
for silence?”

Seward leans back. “Getting to it now. That’s good, that’s good. Yes, I do imagine some type of hushing valuable is in order. But credits do me little good — they are obtained easy enough.” He glances at the sky. “But no amount of money destroys the enemy I can’t fight. This accursed darkness. It is hard to work at night. Always at night, beneath the pale moon and the feeble light of the orbs. My flood light alerts too many of my presence. After all, there be pirates on the waters.” He winks. “Often I’ve thought how quickly my job be done if I had a light rod to see. Small, focused, piercing …”

“Father gets those from the PM, and only once a year.”

“He does not!” Seward snaps, and just as quickly calms. “Apologies.” He wipes his brow. “Some folktales are hard for me to endure. Massa gets nothing from the PM. He gets rods from the Nine, the Council.” Seward pauses. “Can you handle a truth?” He glances down, his hands forming the shape of a make-believe bag. Seward slides open an invisible zipper and
reaches inside. He pulls out a fistful of air, lifts it in front of my face, and opens his hand. “There is no PM.”

I stare at Seward, who offers his nearly toothless grin. “Are you surprised that we live in a leaderless world, young Deliverer?”

“But we learn about him in school and recite the pledge …”

“And they told you every book was destroyed. I want a light rod for my silence.”

“But Father receives just enough. No extras, just enough to pacify the Water Rats.”

Seward sighs, and slows the boat. “Would you like me to start dumpin’ the discovered?”

“No!” I grab his wrist. “No. I’ll find a way. Give me some time.”

“A little.” Seward glances up. “We’re here.” He rubs his arms and gently guides us toward the mainland. “Tell Massa I said hello.”

I frown as the boat skims the reef and eases into the Shallows.

Dawn breaks, and we glide past the Cemetery. Old Rub swims at our side. I lean over and stroke her shell.

“Old Girl, you’ll never believe it.”