Of Silver and Beasts (24 page)

Before I lower myself over the edge, I reach out to grasp the Caben’s hand but stop midair. Any hint about what could’ve happened between us back in the pool has to be shattered. My fingers curl into a fist, and I tamp my emotions down into the pit of my stomach.

“Go back,” I tell Caben. “You were supposed to stay there to keep a lookout. Go back to Bax’s section and make sure the other contenders don’t realize we’re missing.”

He looks at me then, his face hardened, his eyes heated. “As smart as you are, you really can be quite dense.” He turns and heads back down the tunnel.

My stomach flips, and I try to ignore the ache invading my chest. His anger is justified. But I can’t chance his life.

Taking a deep breath, I cleanse my mind, and descend into Krewl’s hell dimension.

The air is tinged with a tangy, metallic scent. As I slink against the walls of Krewl’s training facility, I notice dark stains on the ground, near them, fresh pools of blood. There is no mercy for Krewl’s contenders. He trains them to win, regardless if they die in the process.

I brace an arm around my roiling stomach, thinking that Lilly or Kai may have spilled some of it. Or the blood may even be theirs if they refused to play by his rules. Still, they’re alive, and hopefully Lilly has the answer that will free us before the Reckoning.

The silence bothers me more than if the contenders were up and moving around. I need to know their locations—pinpoint the areas to avoid. I pause next to the opening that leads into their master cell and close my eyes. Focusing my senses past the whirring of the fan blades, past the hum of the spires, and past the slow trickle of the waterfall, I zero in on the stirring bodies in the chambers.

It’s a slumber of disturbed minds, trying to sleep their last sleep before possible death.

Farther into the cell, a distinct noise catches my attention, and I nearly laugh from the uplifting happiness tickling my insides. Someone is cracking their knuckles slowly, one by one.

Lilly.

Peeking around the corner, I make sure no other contenders are roaming, then I move along the stone wall toward the chambers. The popping sound is coming from the first room, and I wonder if Lilly knew I’d somehow make it to her, if she chose it for this very reason.

The sound stops, and the side of the dingy curtain parts. Lilly’s amber eyes meet mine. They widen, and she waves her hand, signaling me to go back into the training room. I want to latch on to her and take her with me, but I nod and check over my shoulder, then quietly make my way back.

Squatting in a corner, I wait for her. When I see her thin form emerge from the opening, I whisper her name and her shoulders release their tension, slumping.

“Kal, what in the goddess—” She shakes her head and hugs me. Her arms warp tightly around me, and I match their strength. “I knew you’d come tonight.” She backs away, and her lips pull downward. “Have you seen Willa?”

I shake my head. “No. I came here first. But I know she’s all right.” Lilly nods, her eyes glistening at the corners, and I say more assuredly, “She’s a fighter, Lills. She’s strong.”

“I know. I just wish . . .”

“I know.”

A silence stretches between us. I take her hand in mine.

“There’s no way out of this building,” she says. “I’ve checked, and Kai scouted the perimeter when we first arrived.” Her fingers grip my hand tighter, her eyes drop to the floor.

My thumb strokes the top of her hand, and I try to focus my thoughts. I want to ask her a million questions—but I’m just content Krewl hasn’t fastened some deplorable device on her. So I move past my worries. “You were trying to warn me about something. What?” My mind flashes to my last moments with Carina. And the knowledge of the full moon rising tomorrow brings the pressing anxiety full circle.

Lilly takes in a shaky breath and pulls her hand free. “We’ve been trying to find a way to escape before tomorrow,” she says. Her shoulders lift as she rings her hands, trying to keep from snapping her knuckles. “The Reckoning isn’t just a sport to the Otherworlders. Do you remember all those stories we heard growing up, of the moon goddess being punished and cast into the earth?”

“Sort of.” I scrunch my nose. “I remember the stories, but don’t recall her being the moon goddess, or what connection the moon has to the Otherworlders.”

Her brows hike past her copper bangs. “How could you not remember? The jokes . . . all the games we played during training making fun of moon mad—”

Her words cut off, but I finish her sentence. “Madness.”

She turns her head to the side. “Sorry, Kal. It’s been so awful here that it just slipped my mind.” She rubs her hands down her face and says a curse under her breath. “It was stupid that I didn’t remember.”

“I’m grown now,” I assure her, dipping my head in order to see her face. “I can handle it. More importantly, I need to know so we can fight whatever it is we need to fight.”

Her head tilts, and she stares into my eyes. “Yeah?”

I nod, urging her on.

“All right then.” Her eyes take on the glow of the ultraviolet light, and her cheeks bloom as she forces out a heavy breath. “How are we to fight a crazy goddess?”

It was difficult to go in the opposite direction in the cave. I wanted to go with her. I miss Willa to death, too. But I’ve been gone longer than planned already. Caben is waiting for me.

I go over our strategy again, finding some comfort in the plan Lilly and I have formed—or rather, our last ditch effort if we fail to find another way out. But to make it happen, we’ll need to form an alliance among all three leagues. And that’s going to be damn impossible.

My head continues to churn theories, and I’m so lost in thought that I miss my footing. My fingers—slick from crawling through the stream—slip, losing their grip on the rock, and I drop.

Hard arms catch me mid-fall, and Caben and I collapse to the ground.

“At least you decided to tumble only a few feet up,” he says, sitting up and briskly setting me aside.

I open my mouth to thank him, but before words leave my mouth, he jumps to his feet and starts in the direction of the master cell.

“Caben,” I whisper roughly.

He stops walking and his back stiffens, but he doesn’t turn around. “I’m sure you’ve discovered many things of importance, but if I’m going to be of any use, I require sleep.”

His distant and harsh words needle my chest with sharp pricks of pain. Anger over his damned male pride flares, and I huff. I understand that he’s still upset with me, may even feel rejected, but there’s no time to coddle his ego.

Dusting the black earth from my pants and tunic, I move closer to his turned back. “I spoke with Lilly, and I know that you don’t believe in deities, but—”

“I never said that I didn’t believe in them,” he interrupts. “I just choose not to put my faith in them.” He rakes both hands through his dark hair and faces me. “I don’t trust them.”

The coolness of his blue eyes causes the words to falter on my tongue. I open my mouth a couple of times, trying to force them out. “You blame the goddesses for your mother’s condition,” I finally mange. “More so, you blame the Otherworld goddess.”

Crossing his arms, Caben rolls his shoulders back and stands tall, his face hardened into an unreadable mask. “The moon goddess—the goddess of madness and lunacy?” He chuckles harshly. “Bale’s a myth. She’s children’s stories. And no. I don’t blame the goddesses for my mother. But I do fault them for not protecting her from my father.”

“Why didn’t you say—” I bite off my rant. I want to give him my full attention and talk about his mother, but not now. Shaking my head, I suck in a steadying breath. “Caben, if you knew about their deity, why didn’t you mention it before? We could’ve made the connection sooner and not wasted time.”

A rigid smile crooks the side of his mouth. “Wasted time,” he repeats, low and callous. And I realize what I’ve said—that our time in the cave meant nothing to me. But it’s not what I meant. “Kal, it’s stories,” he continues. “Do you really think some god is—”

“Bale,” I correct him. “A goddess.”

“Of course.” He scowls. “Do you really think stories are going to help us?”

“I think that everything the Otherworlders are doing is a direct order from their goddess, yes. That if they truly believe in her, and she’s as mad as the stories state, then we’re up against something we’re not prepared for.” I take a cautious step toward him. “I think the Reckoning is more than a blood sport.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to work out the tension building in my shoulders. “Carina was trying to explain it to me before she died. The full moon . . . the Reckoning . . . the contenders”—I motion between us—“they’re all connected. Carina had discovered something. She was trying to warn me.”

I drop my head, close my eyes, and try to recall everything she said at the first Nactue meeting. Except I keep hearing her last, whispered word:
Traitor
. But who? Are the Otherworlders traitors for worshiping an exiled goddess? If she knew something that could’ve helped, why not tell the empress? Why not tell us all before we were invaded? Maybe she only speculated. Maybe she didn’t have all the answers, only pieces of the puzzle as I now have. Or maybe she was too angered by the Council’s decision to retire her to care.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear Caben approach, but I’m suddenly aware of his close proximity. The charged air between us tugs at me like a live current.

He runs the pads of his fingers along my forehead, pushing aside the hair from my eyes. I look up at him. “You truly believe the Otherworlders attacked our countries in order to serve their goddess?”

Releasing a repressed breath, I answer, “Yes.”

His deep blue eyes travel over my face, landing back on my own. “If so, how does this information help us? Will figuring out the riddle save us and the other contenders tomorrow?”

I hold his gaze. “It could. We don’t have anything else to go on.”

Biting down on his bottom lip, he nods. “I’ve discovered that finding a loophole in ones beliefs is the best way to fight—to combat someone on their own terms. I thank my father for that.” He kicks his booted foot against a rock. “If they undeniably believe in Bale, whether she actually exists or not, then they’ll take her guidance without question.”

“You mean we could find out how they’re communicating with their deity and . . .”
And what?
The dark priest would be the closest to a sacred channel. Is he the one giving orders? “. . . And plant new orders?” I say questioningly as the thought comes to me.

“Something like that.” His intense gaze roams over my form and my heart rate speeds. “Or they might listen to someone who they believe has a direct link to their goddess.”

Our dark corner of the training room suddenly feels as if it’s closing in. My stomach knots and tension threads my spine, clutching my body like a vise.

“And who would that be?” I ask, my voice unsteady.

He takes a step back and releases an audible breath. “I don’t know,” he says. “But if we’re to do anything at all before or during the Reckoning, we need sleep.” He jerks his head sideways. “Come on. We’ll wake early and figure it out then.”

Caben turns on his heel and heads toward the master cell, and I release the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. He can’t know of my cybernetic fix. He can’t possibly know of my connection to Alyah—that she saved my life, affecting the mercury that courses through my bloodstream. Yet, he’s aware of something.

Slowly, I take a step, and then another, trailing behind the prince as he walks the dimly lit tunnel. I find that I’m always underestimating him. He can’t know the details, but he’s caught on to the fact that I
am
hiding something, and he thinks we can use it.

He throws the chamber door open, and I silently follow him inside. Resting my back against the cold stone, I relax my muscles. I nearly exposed my secret to him back in the cave. I was so close to letting him in . . . and I don’t know why. Maybe because I fear we won’t live past the Reckoning. My secret is trivial compared to everything we’re now facing, yet it’s still a part of me that begs to remain hidden.