Page 28 of Dark Bringer (Lord of Everfell #1)

Kal

I shot a witch.

Kal still couldn’t quite believe it. Guns never worked against witches. It was the metal. They threw a spell at you and made the mechanism misfire. Her father said that was why the witches let miners carry sidearms. They were no threat. The witches still had the upper hand.

But Kal had seen the red stain blooming against the white of his coat. Watched him stumble back. It made her queasy, but she hoped he was dead.

The other witch—White Foxes, Bastian called them—with the piercings in her face had given chase, but Kal was faster. She’d slipped into an old mine entrance, a gap in the hillside no wider than her shoulders, invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.

Now the darkness embraced her as she moved deeper into the tunnel, breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

At least the battery-operated torch was in her pocket, not her pack.

Once Kal reached a safe distance from the entrance, she paused to click it on.

Shadows jittered across the ceiling as she slowed to a walk.

Her savings was gone, scattered in the wind when the witch dumped her pack.

With a sinking heart, Kal remembered that her identity card was in there, too.

She couldn’t get across any borders without it, and now she had no money to buy a fake card.

Not that she had any idea where you could get such a thing.

But she still had the Blue-killer pistol and the torch and the kaldurite. Plus Durian’s mining license. She kissed it for luck and replaced it in her pocket.

When the tunnel shrank to a crevice, she bit her lip, then dropped to hands and knees. Rough stone scraped her palms, but no way was she going back. The new plan was to get as far as she could underground before surfacing again.

Between the vast network of old mining tunnels and the new ones made by the Sinn, you could go a long way without ever seeing the sun.

Kal plunged onward, praying that she wouldn’t hit a dead end.

Thankfully, the shaft finally widened and met a crossing passage.

She took that one, and then another, doing her best to avoid the tunnels that sloped downward.

By the Trinity, she was thirsty. Sometimes you could find a trickle of water down the walls, but these mines had none.

She was at another intersection, pondering which way to choose, when a distant rumble echoed through the tunnel.

Kal held her breath, counting the seconds.

The sound didn’t repeat, but that meant nothing.

The desert Sinn only made noise when they burrowed through rock.

If they were moving through an existing tunnel, they could be surprisingly quiet.

Once, she and Durian had come across the remains of some miners caught unawares. The sight had haunted her for months.

She kept going, always choosing the widest tunnels and the ones that didn’t lead deeper into the earth. If she could walk upright, she did. But if there was no other option besides crawling, she did that.

The battery in her torch started to dim. If it died altogether, she knew this labyrinth would be her tomb.

Just keep going forward.

Her stomach twisted with hunger, but it was the thirst that worried her. She’d gone days without food before, but water—that was a much bigger problem. Time to find a way out.

Except she hadn’t a clue where she was.

The stirrings of panic fluttered in her chest as she kept hitting dead ends.

Places where rubble filled the shaft or a seam had simply petered out.

The torch dwindled to a sickly yellow glow.

She decided to turn it off and use the walls as guides.

The thick, impenetrable darkness made her chest tighten, but it was better than knowing the battery was dead for good.

When Kal stumbled into a low cavern, she nearly toppled into the pool at its center. Only the splash at her feet warned her to stop. Her heart raced. If she’d submerged the torch . . . It didn’t bear thinking about.

She flicked it on long enough to see clear water.

The sight of it broke something inside her, and she fell to her knees.

Her hands trembled as she cupped them, bringing the tepid liquid to her lips.

It tasted of minerals, but she drank greedily.

Then she sat on her haunches, flicked the torch on again, and looked around.

The cavern stretched into darkness, the torchlight too frail to penetrate its depths. Water bubbled up from beneath, forming a lake wide enough that she couldn’t see the far side. The sides of the cavern were high and jagged. The only way forward was to wade through.

She held the torch in one hand and the bundle with the gun in the other, raising them over her head. The surface wasn’t bad, but the bottom water was bitingly cold, rising quickly to her waist. She gasped in shock and clenched her jaw.

Just keep going forward.

Halfway across, a vibration sent wavelets rippling across the pool. Kal flicked the torch off. She stilled in the blackness, water lapping at her ribs. Just the mines settling. The Zamir Hills straddled some of Sion’s biggest leylines. A jolt every now and then was normal.

When the rumbles ceased, she pushed forward, her breath echoing off the cavern walls. She tried not to think about what might live in the lake. An ancient, patient creature that had waited years for some idiot to stumble into its lair . . .

“Stop it,” she whispered. “Get a grip.”

The water rose to her chest. She hesitated somewhere in the middle. If it got any deeper, she’d have no choice but to go back. She couldn’t risk soaking the torch.

But luck turned her way. The next few steps brought her up a gradual incline.

When she reached the other side, Kal stood dripping, her sodden coat a heavy weight on her shoulders.

Then she flicked the torch on and almost cried.

The passage beyond twisted like a corkscrew, descending deeper. Definitely dug by the Sinn.

She glanced at the pool but couldn’t bring herself to retreat. She doubted that she could find her way through all the dead ends and cave-ins anyway.

Exhaustion made her sink to the ground. How deep had she gone? Were the White Foxes still searching or had they given up by now? She would rather face the witches again than be trapped wandering this stone maze. Alone in the black . . .

Splashes sounded behind her. Something was coming through the lake.

Not alone at all.

Kal unwrapped the pistol. She fired wildly into the dark.

The hammer clicked down on an empty chamber.

Shit! She’d forgotten to reload. Kal frantically thumbed the magazine release and crouched down.

She fumbled the box of bullets from the dry bundle that she’d so carefully carried across the water, but her hands were shaking and they spilled everywhere.

Panting with adrenaline, she grabbed a bullet as it rolled away, pushed it into the magazine, and slammed the mag back into the pistol. Then she flicked off the torch, backing into the tightly corkscrewed tunnel. If she couldn’t see it, maybe it couldn’t see her.

One bullet. She’d have to make it count.

The splashing grew closer. Her heart slammed against her chest as she counted down.

Three. Two. One.

She flicked the torch on, aiming it into the cavern.

“Bitch, do you have to point that directly in my eyes?”

Kal blinked hard. A boy stood at the edge of the water, one pale, skinny arm shielding his face. But she knew that voice. That sandy hair and left foot twisting inwards.

The pistol wavered. “Get away from me,” she whispered.

Durian lowered his arm, flashing the crooked, white-toothed smile that had charmed half of Pota Pras. Then he took a rapid step forward. “Boo!”

Kal recoiled and he burst into the braying donkey laugh that always made her laugh too, even when nothing was funny.

Like now. Not fucking funny at all.

Kal stared at him. Hallucination. Had to be. She’d lost her shit.

“You look awful,” Durian said, squinting. “Seriously, could you lower the torch?”

She did, and then promptly burst into tears.

“Come on, girl. Keep it together.” He limped over, wearing the same clothes he had on the day he died.

Durian’s city outfit. A long blue coat with diagonal brass buttons, which he claimed was the latest fashion, over baggy white pants.

He was ridiculous about those pants. They had to stay pristine .

“I can’t,” she sobbed. Not without you .

She slid down the wall and ugly-cried. Durian sat next to her. He looked frighteningly real, even close up.

“What are you?” she managed. “A ghost or something?”

The question seemed to bore him. “I don’t know. Just tell me what happened.”

Kal drew a shaky breath. Then she crawled to the lake and splashed water on her face. When she turned around, Durian was still there. Waiting for an answer.

She swallowed. “Do you remember . . .?”

“Dying? Yeah, you can skip that part.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay. Uh, well, I waited for you at the statue of the Trinity . . .”

She told him about reading the article in the gossip rag about a drowned boy, but that she refused to believe he was gone until she’d come back to Pota Pras.

“I stopped by your remembrance ceremony,” she said.

“Good turnout?” he asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah,” she lied. “There were about fifty people there. Your mom . . .” Kal grimaced.

“She blamed you, right?” He shook his head, the flop of hair bouncing. “Typical. What was I wearing?”

“Uh, like this brown suit . . .”

He swore. “Really?”

Kal nodded.

“Damn, I hated that old moth-eaten thing. Told her I’d never wear it again. I guess she got the last laugh.” He donkey-brayed. “At least I’ll be naked when they leave me for the scavengers.”

“Could we talk about something else?”

“Yeah, bitch.” He sobered. “How’d you end up down here?”

Kal told him how the witches caught her, and she shot one.

“You shot a witch?” Durian arched a skeptical brow.

Kal had given up trying to reject his presence. Maybe he was a spirit guide. Maybe he was a figment of her imagination. Either way, she felt glad he was with her.

“It’s true, asshole,” she said. “I swear it on the Trinity.”

Something sharp poked her hip and she shifted. The kaldurite. She took it out of her coat lining. The pouch was soaked, but the gems inside threw off sparkles of blue, red, and violet as she laid them out on the ground.

“I think it’s the stones,” she said slowly. “That’s what they do.” She turned to face him, the revelation leaving her breathless. “They block the ley. That’s why the witches want them.”

Durian’s green eyes gleamed in the fading light of the torch. “Go on.”

“It’s why I got away on the Corniche and you didn’t. I kept my bag of stones. You’d handed yours over. The spells didn’t miss . They just couldn’t touch me.”

“And it explains why they couldn’t yank the gun from your hand, or make it malfunction,” he added. Durian let out a whoop that echoed through the cavern. “We were right all along! These stones are worth a fortune.”

“More than a fortune,” she said, her mind racing. “Kaldurite evens the playing field. Takes away the witches’ power.”

“No wonder they’re hunting you,” he said. “If this gets out . . .”

“It would change the world,” Kal finished.

They stared at each other in excitement.

“You’re going to get filthy rich for the both of us, Kal,” Durian said with a crazy grin. “Swear it to me.”

She laughed. “I swear it on Travian’s honor and all hope of his return.”

That was the strongest oath she knew how to give him.

Even though Durian and his mom fought constantly and agreed on almost nothing, he remained a devoted follower of the Cult of the Bard.

He firmly believed that Travian was out there somewhere in disguise, watching over his children. Or having a good time at least.

“Better get moving,” Durian said, jerking his chin at the twisted, downward-sloping tunnel ahead.

Kal nodded briskly. She took a moment to add three more bullets to the magazine, then rewrapped the box and the pistol. Stashed the kaldurite back in its pouch. Then she entered the sinuous, off-kilter tunnel, bracing her hands on the walls for balance.

The torch died soon after that, but Durian stayed with her, whispering encouragement and chivvying her onward with descriptions of the ship she would buy—a small, fleet caravel that could navigate the shallows with a minimal crew.

Together, they would sail far away, somewhere the witches could never find them.

The tunnel gradually widened. After a while, she could see the walls again. Gray light filtered through an opening somewhere up ahead. She must have walked all night. Judging by the ravenous ache in her belly, maybe more than one night.

Kal staggered the last stretch, lightheaded with joyful relief at her escape from the mines. It wasn’t until she stood at the exit, staring down at a scrubby valley, that she realized her friend hadn’t spoken in many minutes.

When she turned back, Durian was gone.