Page 28 of Swords of Soul and Shadow (Gate Chronicles #3)

Other than to describe her husband, she hadn’t spoken to anyone since the attack had begun; whatever words she might’ve had turned to smoke as soon as she tried to speak them. Instead, her emotions poured out in her tears, an unceasing flood.

Had he found that note? The one that she’d left on the side table?

Was that why he hadn’t come to find them?

No. He wouldn’t abandon them to this, no matter what she’d said.

She pressed her hand to the wall behind her and eased herself to her feet, one inch at a time so as not to disturb her baby or her aching body.

Maybe if she kept moving, she’d find him.

Or Les. Her father-in-law probably hadn’t made it out of the cells.

She didn’t know how she felt about that.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She was okay. She was alive.

Don’t wake the baby.

She cuddled Samuel closer, hoping her swaying gait would keep him unaware of the chaos his new world had devolved into.

When her husband hadn’t returned with Les after the sentencing, she’d made her decision. She knew he’d gone out drinking. He’d promised to stop, but he’d given her enough broken promises to fill the near-empty Davey Estate.

She closed her eyes against the ache in her chest. She prayed hard, but heavy tears were her only answer.

Between One World, the Cerls, and the dragon, an inebriated Jove wouldn’t make it far—especially if they discovered who he was.

She would never get to say goodbye or tell him just how much she loved him. She’d feigned sleep when he’d kissed her temple before he’d left for the courts, and now…

It might be the last kiss he ever gave her.

Her heart throbbed again.

Pain threaded through her ankle as she twisted it on a loose rock.

She bit her lip to keep from losing what weak grip she had on her emotions.

Thankfully, she hadn’t dropped her son, though the jostling had woken him.

Limping to the next clear space of wall beside an offshoot tunnel, she slid to the ground, her pack grinding and scratching against the brick.

She laid her head back and pushed down her pain, trying to focus on what to do next now that the world had shattered into a thousand glass shards.

Samuel’s cries pierced the roaring tide of sound.

No amount of shushing did anything. She didn’t remember when she’d last fed him.

It could’ve been an hour or seven, but she just couldn’t think straight. His cries rose in pitch.

She needed to feed him. She needed to find Jove. She needed—she needed—

“Here, let me help you, hon. I’ve got a spot away from the ruckus where you can feed your babe,” a soft, aged feminine voice said from above.

Clara opened her eyes to see a white woman, probably in her forties, with dark but mostly gray hair pulled back into a smooth bun. Her eyes were peridot green and full of concern. Clara opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, tears slid down her face.

I am a Davey. I am strong.

But the old mantra didn’t work. So she tried a new one.

I am stone. Not glass. Not wind. Stone.

She simply nodded at the woman, who helped her to her feet and whispered a gentle “Right this way,” before leading her a short way down the offshoot where a few families sat huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around each other.

They looked cold, and scared—but then, who didn’t down in the Catacombs?

Their darting eyes looked up fearfully as the two women approached, but once they recognized the older woman and saw Clara holding a baby, they settled back down.

The woman helped Clara to a small alcove, the flickering torch above casting a slight shadow into the space. She undid the leather ties on Clara’s rucksack and pulled out a dove-gray knitted blanket, handing it over.

Careful of her sore ankle and the knot in her throat, Clara settled herself on the rough ground.

Samuel squirmed in her arms. She set the blanket on her shoulders and worked to calm and feed Samuel.

Once his cries quieted, the woman sat beside her, pulling out a few hard crackers, one of which she handed to Clara.

Trying not to disturb Samuel, Clara took the cracker with a shaking hand and nibbled a bit of the edge.

It reminded her of the fare soldiers took on their missions, something that didn’t spoil easily and tasted mostly of salt.

Clara broke off another chunk with her teeth and chewed.

Not her favorite, but the saltiness reminded her of the seaside she’d grown up beside.

“Sorry I don’t have much else to offer, but that’ll keep you satiated for an hour or two.” The woman finished off her own fare before dusting her fingers on her worn brown trousers.

Clara cleared her throat, and finally, her words began working again, though her voice still came out thick and muddled. “Thank you.”

She didn’t know what else to say. What else was there?

The woman fished out knitting needles and golden yarn and gave a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “After birthing two of my own children, I cannot imagine trying to navigate postpartum while hiding in an underground bunker.”

Clara gave her a watery smile. “It’s not been a month.”

She didn’t mention the fact that not only had the time since been full of raging hormones and lost hours of sleep, her father-in-law had gone on trial and been sentenced to death. Clara nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all.

The woman smiled encouragingly. “I’m Zelda, and I’ll be glad to help you out until we find your family. Didn’t expect to arrive at the capital for the first time in the middle of an attack.”

“You just got here?”

“This morning.”

Clara nodded, glad to feel sorry for someone else for once. “I’m Clara. This is Samuel.”

She couldn’t say anything more, for anything else would make her crumble. Instead, she and Zelda sat there in companionable silence. Samuel finished and fell back asleep. Zelda knitted. Before long, Clara found herself drifting away against the wall.

She jerked awake, but Zelda readjusted the coverlet. “Hold your baby tight, and I’ll keep an eye out. We’ll figure this all out soon.”

She wanted to argue, to say that she didn’t need sleep. She needed Jove. But her eyelids drooped, the adrenaline from everything fading at last, and she found she didn’t have any fight left to give.