Drowned (14 page)

Before long, I escape, gasping, into the cool sea air that’s wafting into my room. It’s heavenly. I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and breathing all the air my lungs can hold, until I hear voices in the corridor. Quickly, I hurry to the wall and bend the metal panel back into place.

“Oh, dear!” a voice gasps in the hallway. Something shatters. Standing outside my room is Burbur, surrounded by the pieces of some pink shell decorations that used to adorn my room, looking as if she’s seen a ghost.

I stumble over to my mat and collapse on it, panting, without a word to her.

“Oh, my goodness, I thought the Dark Girl was back,” she says, fanning her face. “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

Lying there, the full extent of my exhaustion hits. Maybe I am dead. “I was...” I can’t very well tell her I was in the stores. That’s her domain, one she’d protect to the death. “I was with the princess.”

I expect that she’ll begin sweeping about the room, laying the little trinkets in their correct places. I expect the scent of lavender to fill the air, and another gauzy white garment to be hanging in the doorway. Instead, when I open my eyes, I realize the room is quite bare. It’s past the tide; she should be arranging everything by now. “Burbur!” I call with all the energy I can muster.

She appears in the doorway, and I realize she is holding her own bag. It looks larger than I’ve ever remembered her carrying into formation, almost too heavy to carry. She’s blushing. “Yes?”

“Are you...” But I know what she is doing. Goodness knows what things I’d find in her bag, if I dared wrestle it away from her. “Do you no longer work in service of the king?”

She coughs. “Excuse me?”

“Where are my things? The things you store and bring back when the tide goes out?”

She swallows. There is sweat on her forehead. She shakes her head. “You’ve... You don’t seem to understand, do you?”

“Understand what?” I study her for a long time. She can’t seem to keep herself from fidgeting from one foot to the other. She clutches her bag to her chest and keeps surveying the hallway behind her. Something is clearly amiss.

“The king is dying. Tiam is dead. A new ruler will assume the throne.” She gives me a condescending look. “You can’t expect everything to stay the same once that happens.”

“Of course not. But...the watertight compartments under the castle are still watertight, yes?”

She straightens. “Yes.”

“Can I visit them with you?”

“Of course not,” she answers with finality. “That is not allowed.”

“By order of the king? The king who is dying?” I ask, which makes the color drain from her face.

Quickly, she says, “You’ll not ask questions about those compartments, if you know what’s good for you. I must leave.” She hefts that large bag over her shoulder and scurries away. When the sound of her footsteps disappears down the hallway, I walk over to the panel, scrape up a corner and peel it back only an inch or so from the wall. I put my mouth up to the opening and call down, in a voice just above a whisper, “I made it. I’m going to find a way for you to get out.”

A voice floats up. “No. Find the princess. She will know what to do.”

“But—”

“Coe. And as far as everyone knows, I’m dead. Okay? And you were in the tower tending to the princess. The last thing we need is people getting suspicious of you because you weren’t in formation. Do you understand?”

“Right,” I huff. I bend the metal grate back into position so that it is flush against the wall, grab my pack and throw it on my back, then head down the stairs. If he wants to find his bride, he can come up and do that himself. But right now, some things are more important. Right now, even if he has too much pride to ask me, I’m going to find a way to save
him.

Eleven

The Idea and the Reality

I
t occurs to me on the last step of the staircase that there are dozens of doors and corridors on the first floor, and I have very little idea which one leads to the lower level of the castle. Despite the fact that there are fewer than five hundred people on the island, Burbur is constantly flitting from room to room, so I doubt I could slip away unseen, even if I did know where to go. It’s already hopeless, and I haven’t even gotten to the maze of rooms in the basement. As I’m trying to decide which way to turn, a bell begins ringing. I almost don’t hear it, I’m too wrapped up in saving Tiam. But then it gets more urgent, and I realize it’s a pattern of three short rings, over and over and over again. My signal. From the princess.

Groaning, I run back up the stairs and ring my response. She rings again, telling me to proceed. I brace myself for her anger. I know I’ve neglected my duties. By the time I make it up to the landing, I can already hear her voice. It’s not directed at me. She’s speaking to her guards. “If he is, have someone retrieve the body. They can at least do that, for my beloved.”

When I come around, she’s curled up in a ball at the top of the steps. She turns to me. “They’re saying he’s dead. Is it true?”

For a moment I think she must be talking about her father, but then I remember Tiam. I don’t answer; after all, she refused to let us into the tower. If he were dead, it would be all her doing. Instead, I help her to her bed and pull the covers over her.

“How am I supposed to go on without him?” she sobs. “I’ll never find my way alone.”

It all sounds so melodramatic, considering she’s the one who nearly killed him. “He would have been alive, had you let us into the tower.”

She shakes her head miserably. “We
all
would have been dead. The tower is far too unstable. But I suppose that’s not important anymore. It’s only a matter of time before the commoners destroy the tower and everything in it.” She begins to sob again, her body convulsing. “I don’t want to die.”

“Then you need to help me, Princess.”

She buries her face in a pillow. “Why? I am lucky to still have my guards, as they are the only things keeping me alive. None of the servants come anymore when we ring the bell. Not even you. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you. I suppose you’re in league with them. If I go with you, you’ll slit my throat.”

“I am here to
help
you,” I argue with her. “I promised Tiam I would help you, and I don’t break promises. You have to trust me, or you
will
die.”

She turns and props herself up on her arm, studying my face. “And what will you have me do?”

“First, you can’t trust anyone. You’re right about that. They attacked Tiam to prevent him from assuming the throne.”

She sighs. “Stupid commoners. You know, Coe, they have a lot to learn. We royals are far from helpless. We’re superior in many ways.”

There she goes again, with her superiority speech. But she’s staring right at me, so I fight back the urge to roll my eyes.

“And Tiam was stupid. He wanted to save the world. He wanted to take them all. And look how they repaid him for that kindness.” She sighs. “Dead.”

I lean into her and whisper, “Tiam is not dead.”

“But you and I will be smart about this. We’ll—” Suddenly she stops. She sits up, and her blue eyes bore into me. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have time to explain. He needs your help. Is there a way I can get access to the stores?”

She narrows her eyes. “How can he not be dead? You are tricking me. What do you want to steal from the royal stores now?”

“I thought there was nothing down there of worth?” I challenge.

She throws up her hands. “How do I know what is down there! Royals don’t go there.” She clasps her hands together. “It is true? My beloved is alive?”

I nod.

“Oh!” She covers her mouth with her hand, and when she removes it, she’s smiling from ear to ear. She rushes to a mirror and inspects herself. “Oh, my goodness, I have never been so happy! Where is he?”

“Down in the stores. That’s where we went when you forced us from the tower, Princess,” I say, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. “He’s trapped there and in danger, and the only way I can get him out is by getting access to the stores. Once he’s free, the three of us can decide what to do about Finn and the others. But you have to stay here, with your guards. You’re safest here.”

She studies me for a long time, then says, “If he is alive, you need to bring him to me at once. We’re running out of time. My father...” She looks around and then shakes her head. “No matter.” She reaches underneath her bed and pulls out an old key with a red cord tied around it. “This is the key to the door. Go to the third hallway on the right when you get to the bottom of the stairs. It’s the second door on the left. It sticks, or so I’ve heard. But, Coe, you must remember to bring the key back to me. It’s my only one, and we’ll need it.”

“I will,” I say, wrapping the cord of the key around my wrist. “So you’ve
never
been down there?”

“Of course not! That moldy old place! That’s not fit for royalty.”

There’s no sense in asking her if she knows where I might find the old laundry room, then. I stand up to leave and am almost at the doorway when she says, “You were not excused.” Then she just sighs and waves me off.

I hurry down the stairs and follow her directions to the basement doorway. Surprisingly, it’s not watertight. It’s a metal door, rimmed with rust, and there are decaying metal bars crisscrossing a giant semicircular window near the top. The door handle is rough from decay as I turn the key in the lock and pull it open. It opens to a completely black staircase. I grab a torch off the wall and take the first step. I know mold, and I know filth, but the deepest, most rotten stench greets my nostrils before I’m halfway down the stairs. Crusty barnacles and green slime coat the stone walls.

“Hey, you!” A voice startles me. I whirl around to see one of the palace guards at the top of the stairs, his spear pointed in my direction. “What are you doing down there?”

“I...” I begin, thinking quickly. “I’m the princess’s lady-in-waiting.”

The scowl doesn’t leave his face. That’s not enough of an excuse to satisfy him.

“She is looking to make a gift of some items in the stores. To the commoners. As a peace offering,” I explain, my hand tightening around the key hard enough to leave marks on my palm.

“I should still check with Burbur. She’s the only one who is allowed down there,” he says. “Me, my father and my grandfather have all been royal guards. There’s nothing much of worth down there anymore.”

I hold out the key. “But the princess would like me to see. See, I have her personal key here.”

Just when I think my story is getting me nowhere, he nods and looks over his shoulder. “Forgive me. The commoners have been getting rowdy. They killed a guard today.”

I suck in a breath. “They did?”

He tightens his grip on his spear, and for the first time, I realize that he’s afraid. “I believe it will take more than a gift to save her from them.”

He says this with such iciness that I shiver. Seeing what was done to Tiam, I can only think that’s just the beginning. I know he’s right. “She would like to make amends,” I say in a soft voice. “Preserve the peace.”

His face is solemn. “Little good it will do now. Watch yourself. Dangerous things down there. Ghosts and demons in every corner.”

I begin to turn away, but then I say, “I thought the basement was watertight?”

“Much isn’t. There are two levels. The lower level is, but it is empty, and no one ever goes down there. You’re on the top level. Many of the rooms are watertight, too. Your key will open them. Just...make sure you close any doors you open or else you’ll flood them out.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the old laundry room is?”

“The old what?”

Of course not. I wouldn’t know what it was if it weren’t for my journal. “Forget it.”

“If you are looking for something in particular, that map behind you may help,” he says.

I turn around to behold the most confusing labyrinth I’ve ever imagined. It stretches from floor to ceiling, and about as wide as the princess’s quarters.

My stomach tightens. How will I ever find Tiam in here?

The map is faded to practically nothing in areas and dark in others; it looks as if the lines have been traced over and over again as the tides have washed them away. Maybe there were once words there, but of course there are no more, just funny pictures scrawled everywhere. There is a big black X and a few rectangles laced together, which must be the stairs and the place I am standing. All the rooms nearby have big X’s over them, as well. The nearest room without an X, which appears to be ten doors down, has the picture of what looks like a fat striped insect. Whatever could that be?

I pull out my book and try to superimpose the drawing that Cass did on top of some part of this new map, but nothing makes sense. It’s hopeless. And Burbur isn’t much of an artist, so—

Burbur. Of course she may soon come down here, and I can only imagine what she’ll say if she sees me. There are two carts, much like the one Burbur wheels with her everywhere, against the wall behind me, and as I back away, I trip over a wheel, causing a clatter that echoes through the walls for what seems like tides. There are ruts in the stone floor for the carts, making it uneven and difficult to find footing. I move as quickly as I can without knowing where I am going, counting the doors as I go, until I arrive at the tenth one. Then I use the key and push it open.

This room is as large as our sleeping compartment and is piled high with crates. They stretch out, away from the dim firelight, dozens, if not hundreds of them. I think of walking the laundry room with Tiam and shiver at the thought of seeing another one of those horrible creatures. But the boxes all appear to be intact. Several are open. Closing the door behind me in case Burbur should come, I investigate closer, moving away scraps of packing material until I find what containers are inside. I read the words:
Local Raw Honey.

Honey? The word itself sounds familiar, but I’m not sure what it is. The picture on the front is something that looks like...a big striped insect with wings. It’s smiling at me—I’ve never seen an insect smile before. It’s so fascinating I can’t put it down. Does this can contain mashed-up insects? The things people used to enjoy eating!

But it’s
food.
And food is not supposed to be here. Nothing of worth is supposed to be here. I wonder what is wrong with it. Whether it tastes vile. Maybe it’s rotten. Obviously, it must be, or it wouldn’t still be here.

Still, it’s something. I fill my bag with as many cans as I can hold, then walk another few yards until I notice that my feet are no longer on solid stone. The floor below me is cold metal. I look down and see a round disc in the ground, a bit wider than a person’s shoulders. There are two small openings on either side. What is it? A passage, I think. I think I can slide my finger in there and pry it up, but when I try to slip it into the groove, it’s too big. If I had another hand, or my shovel, maybe I could make progress. I end up staring at it, dumbly, then kicking it in vain with my bare foot, sending fireworks of pain up to my knee. That’s got to be an entrance to the lower level that the guard was talking about. And I have no way of getting in. I just hope Tiam’s not down there.

I take another step when I remember something. I had seen the word
honey
once before.

Juggling the torch, I find a way to squeeze it under the crook of my deformed arm as I flip open my book to the map. Sure enough, there’s an arrow pointing to one of the rooms that says
Honey.

And if that is the case, according to the map Cass drew, there should be three more doors in the room, one on each wall. I can see one from where I stand, one that leads to
Flower Bulbs and Seeds.
Directly across from it, then, should be
Canned Vegetables.
I step a little farther in, fingers crossed, and peer around a stack of crates.

Sure enough, the light hits another door. I move closer, and as I’m about to place my key in the keyhole, I notice something etched, very faintly, in the center of the door, about chest level.

CAN VEG TA LES

They’re marked! The doors are marked! What wonderful, wonderful letters. Finding Tiam might be possible, after all.

The celebration ends after studying Cass’s map for another few moments. There are only about twenty rooms on her drawing, and not one is labeled Laundry Room. Considering that the writing over the map says East Stores, and from Burbur’s drawing on the wall, there are probably well over a hundred rooms, it’s safe to assume that Cass only drew a small portion of the area, only the rooms she managed. For all I know, there’s likely West, South and North Stores, too. And then, if what the guard was saying is true, there’s an entire subfloor below this one with even more rooms.

I consider going back up to my room, climbing down the chute and dragging Tiam up with me, but then I think of his face when he learned that was his only escape. It put my heart in a noose. He’s never, ever looked remotely so vulnerable in all the tides I’ve known him. This isn’t just a small fear—it’s something big. I know nobody on the island would do the same, but maybe it’s the desire to
not
be like them that propels me onward. I won’t be reduced to someone who cares only for myself. I won’t go back and tell him there is no other way. I will find another way.

I walk another few steps, toward a door that says SOUPS, and that’s when I hear something. Something just slightly different than the sound of my bare feet swishing on the dusty stone floor. It sounds like...whispering.

Oh, no.

I whirl around quickly, waving the torch in front of me, but my arm knocks against a crate, and, shocked, I drop the torch. It clangs on the stone floor. The last thing I see are my bare feet before I’m consumed by complete blackness. The whispering seems louder than ever now, a lively song played to the ferocious drumbeat of my heart. It’s so loud it’s as if it’s coming from all around me. Maybe it is. Maybe they’re everywhere.