Page 49

He kept his footsteps careful, all too aware that another crevice could appear and it was only luck that would send him into the lake below and not the ground beside it.

A few minutes of searching later, he saw the telltale sign of the trees dipping down, and the ground gave way to a much larger cenote opening. Here, the walls of the cavern below butted up against the opening, allowing for a precarious path down to the lake.

He moved around the cenote from above, tracing the best path down with his eyes. He wasn’t keen on climbing down, but it was a safer option than jumping. The closer he looked, the more he realized this wasn’t just a simple cliff. Somewhere beneath the yellowing vines and the damp earth, he could make out the occasional stone step carved into the side of the cenote, moving down in a large spiral.

“Can you hear me?” he asked, no longer able to see where she was in the cavern.

“Yes,” she said, sounding farther away.

“I’m going to try and climb down.”

“Just jump!”

“No, thank you.”

“I didn’t realize king’s men were such babies.” The words were muttered, yet he heard them clearly, as if the echo had wanted to ensure he caught her snark.

He gave a small growl, looking over the edge of the wall once more.Fine.

He jumped.

The water was surprisingly warm when he hit it, a gasp escaping his lips at the sudden impact. He choked on water, pulled between wanting to drink it immediately and knowing he needed to breathe. In the confusion and desperation, he did both, breathing in a lungful of water before coughing it back up.

Then Sofia was there beside him in the water, dragging him to shore.

“Gods help us, are you trying to kill yourself? Do you not know how to swim?”

He doubled over, coughing up another mouthful of water as he tried to reply.

“I know—how—to swim.” He managed to press out the words between hacking coughs. Sofia smacked him along his back a few times and he almost thanked her, but she was probably only happy to have an excuse to hit him.

“I’m good. I’m okay,” he said as the air started moving through his lungs again.

“Thank the gods,” Sofia said with a tone of sarcasm, as if she hadn’t been the one to help drag him out. She was standing before he could respond, taking in their surroundings, and his own eyes followed.

The afternoon sun was slanted, lighting the cavern in contrasted stripes of shadow and light. He had been impressed with the cenote that the resistance had thrown him into, with its cavernous ceiling and twisting tunnels. He now saw that their base was nothing but a haphazard campsite.

The cavern stretched out much farther than the opening above, to the left and right, large and intricately carved columns holding up the ceiling above. They were brown and gray, but he saw the occasional remnants of paint along the grooves. The floors themselves, while dirt and stone along the edge of the lake, transitioned into painted tiles farther on, and lanterns hung from chains on the ceiling, their painted glass rivaling the rainforest’s most colorful flowers. They hung dark and limp, but waiting to be lit once more.

This wasn’t just a hole in the ground or a hovel to hide in. It was an entire building carved and cherished, stretched out in secret beneath the forest.

It was also a dying thing, the earth around it slowly laying claim to what humans had created. Although Fox saw the intricate lines of the flowers and patterns painted along the floors, roots and vines broke between the tiles, leaving many of them cracked or obscured. A few of the lanterns had fallen, glass shattering onto the ground below and leaving a mosaic of color behind. Most disturbingly, one or two of the columns were beginning to crumble. He wondered if this was why the hole that Sofia had fallen through was beginning to open up in the ground above.

“Did you know this place existed? Is this another resistance base?” he asked, even though a part of him already knew the answer. Everything looked too old yet too beautiful.

“I often fall into holes I know are there,” she said, rolling her eyes. “This must be an abandoned settlement, from before the tribal war.”

He saw her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking around with just as much awe as he was, her eyes turning bright with unshed tears. He looked away, knowing she wouldn’t want him to see, and stood instead. His fingers brushed the dirt and leaves away from one of the tiles along the floor, the color of the paint still shining in the sunlight from above.

Despite the occasional Dragonborn book he’d snuck out of his father’s study and read, he’d never expected their homes to look likethis. The Dereyan history books talked about the king bringing farming, saltwater purification, and commerce to the land. The first kings tamed the monsters that sent the Dragonborn underground and taught them how to make a city and build lives together. The books only talked of Wueco before the kings as a wild and lawless place where the people worshipped and feared the monsters in turn.

He felt half in a trance as he made his way along the edge of the lake and toward the main portion of the cavern where the columns stood and the lanterns swayed in the breeze.

“Is your flint dry?” he asked, looking up and seeing the dirty remnants of a candle sitting inside the closest lantern.

She didn’t answer immediately but instead dug through her bag. It was oiled leather, but she’d fallen directly into the lake. Still, when she pulled the small stone out from her pack, he saw the look of satisfaction on her face. He held out his hand, but she simply walked past him to stand under the lantern herself. To his satisfaction, she was a few inches too short to reach the candle.

“Do you need help?” he asked, amusement tinging his tone.