Page 71 of Swords of Soul and Shadow (Gate Chronicles #3)
“Did you know he stumbled into our tent the other night drunk, hand nearly broken, because he’d been fighting?” Zelda said it with such a superior tone that drove Hallie nuts. But before she could respond, her mother left with a parting, “You’re coming home with us soon as we’re clear to do so.”
And then she closed the flap behind her and didn’t look back.
Drunk? A fight? What in the blazes was her mother talking about? Kase had been under house arrest since he got to Kyvena. How could he have…wait. How had he gotten to the hover then?
Once out in the tunnel, Hallie pressed the heel of her palms to her eyes. Fighting with her mother was stupid, considering where they were and what was happening around them. But Hallie hadn’t picked the fight. Zelda had.
It wasn’t Hallie’s fault her parents pushed her out the door three years ago because they couldn’t deal with their own grief.
Her hand shook as she popped off the cork and downed the headache remedy.
The moldy mint flavor didn’t help her control her temper, and it would probably only dull her headache later.
She needed to calm down before she headed to the hospital ward.
Petra would want to know why she was out of sorts, and Hallie would only bite her head off.
Her friend didn’t deserve that—even if she was being hostile about Kase.
She needed to talk to him and get his side of the story. He would have an explanation, she was certain. Then she would find somewhere else to stay. Maybe Fely had room. Petra’s tent was too crowded.
It’d only been a week, and her entire world had been rocked to the core and turned inside out all over again.
Well, maybe two weeks. Because Hallie had somehow lost control of the time or something.
No one could explain that.
If they didn’t figure whatever puzzle or prophecy or legend out before the floating Yalvar fuel drowned them, there would be no more Yalvara. Even saying that in the privacy of her own thoughts sounded absolutely blasting ridiculous.
She needed to research, but Myrrai was out of the question, as was the University library. Petra had said it’d been pretty much burned to the ground.
She elbowed and shouldered her way through the crowds.
There were so many who had to suffer along the edges of the tunnels, and now with the threat of the cave-ins and the possible end of the world, Hallie didn’t know what their fate would be.
With each day that passed, it became clearer than ever that they couldn’t stay forever. They needed to go back above. Soon.
The ones who’d been lucky enough to secure better lodgings probably would refuse until all threats were neutralized, but without the full might of the Crews, Jayde didn’t stand a chance.
It could be weeks or months before the Cerls gave up.
Jayde couldn’t last that long. The flyovers were an effective siege.
According to gossip, there’d been another one yesterday, but no bombs had been dropped. Probably just surveillance. Still made the more unsavory characters start taking bets on which tunnels would be hit next.
The closer she got to the central cavern, the further down into the planet she went. More and more people seemed to be milling about, which gave Hallie hope that the casualties weren’t so terrible as first believed, that Kase had in fact made a difference.
Most of the cavern had been cleaned up, but the Stradat Lord Kapitan had been forced to move to another part of it, though he hadn’t left the central cavern.
The site of the latest cave-in had been roped off.
Soldiers warned people away from the rift.
Anyone with sense stayed far away from the bulbous black entity floating up like a specter from the hole.
It didn’t look like it had grown any in the days Hallie had been away, but it still lorded itself over the cavern… and smelled horrible.
The oddest part of it all was that Hallie seemed to be the only one who cared about the stench.
Other people eyed it warily, but it looked as if most people hadn’t bothered to move their temporary lodgings.
The wealthier class of Kyvena stayed inside their carved-out homes lining the walls.
Too proud to move to the sides of corridors or the lesser caverns it seemed, even if it smelled like burning flesh.
Hallie didn’t know whether to give them credit for sticking it out or not.
More concerning were the new patients in the hospital ward Petra had attended to yesterday that claimed some of the Yalvar fuel had come up through another crack nearby.
They said they hadn’t touched it, and as their skin was still intact, the medics and Petra believed they’d just breathed in too many fumes. Why else would it make them feel sick?
A mystery to be solved soon, Hallie thought.
The only positive about the cave-in was that a portion of the ceiling had indeed collapsed on the Stradat Lord Kapitan’s tent, which allowed the morning sun to shine through. Wasn’t good for security’s sake, but seeing the sun for the first time in three days did wonders for her spirit.
Maybe if Kase was released from house arrest, they could sneak out for an hour. She could smell the fresh air, hear the birds, and watch the wind blow the leaves in the trees. Hallie could also show him Navara’s journal and see what he made of it.
Stars, she would be happy with five minutes.
Kase’s note had said his tent was in a smaller cavern just off the larger one.
Just which cavern was a mystery. Instead of giving more detailed directions, he’d drawn her a picture of what she assumed was both of them in a hover.
She could only guess that because one of the rudimentary stick people in the oval shaped thing with wings had curly hair.
She’d thought the other stick person had a braid, maybe. It hadn’t been too clear.
He asked if she could give him sketching lessons and said he would keep sending her abysmal, rather frightful doodles until she did.
It’d made her smile at the very least, but he hadn’t made good on that threat yet.
She passed by what appeared to be the Stradat Lord Kapitan’s new tent.
Soldiers armed with swords and flashpistols stood at the ready—all five of them.
They were not taking any chances, it seemed.
Besides a few City Council members, Harlan was the sole Jaydian leader who’d survived the attack on Kyvena, and if the rumors she’d heard passing amongst the populace was to be believed, he survived because he’d been in the dungeons awaiting his execution.
Hallie wasn’t sure if that was good or bad fortune.
How ironic one was to be killed in the morning only to wake as the sole leader of a country under fire.
No wonder he had five guards. From what she’d gathered since her arrival, Harlan had admitted to covering up Kase’s role in the Kyvena fire.
She’d heard a few nastier rumors about abuse that she knew weren’t hearsay.
None of it sat well with Hallie, and a small, vengeful part of her wished he hadn’t survived the attack like the rest of the High Council.
Technically, they were at war with Cerulene at last, but if her memory served, she’d thought there was a system in place and votes from the City Council and City Governors.
Maybe the Stradat Lord Kapitan had gotten the votes this time.
She’d heard from Petra that they’d tried to declare it after the deaths of the Richter family, but the majority of the City Governors opposed the move.
Maybe with the destruction of the capital, Harlan Shackley had taken it into his own hands.
He had no fear anymore. What could they do to him?
He was the only one left who had an inkling of how to run an entire country.
As much as Hallie despised him for his role as a father, she couldn’t help but wonder if more guards might be necessary.
Hallie ducked into one of the side passages nearest the tent and was about to enter the first smaller cavern when someone called out from behind her.
“Hallie Walker! I haven’t seen you in ages.”
She paused just outside, allowing a small family with a screaming toddler to move past her.
She turned to find three young men watching her—refugees as well, by the state of their dusty and torn dinner attire.
The Catacombs had large bathing chambers making use of underground springs, but those had long lines and weren’t to be used for clothing.
That one was an even longer line, and honestly, some of the stains would never be washed out no matter how hard anyone tried.
Hallie gave the men a cursory nod, unsure of what else to say because she only vaguely recognized the one who’d spoken.
He had warm brown skin and darker hair that had a slight curl to it.
The others were a mystery. The tallest of them looked rather like he’d always lived in the Catacombs with his sallow skin and sunken eyes.
Something about him felt off, but she couldn’t necessarily pinpoint why.
She had half a mind to ignore them, but the first one spoke again. “Ancient Technologies of the First Settlers. Sheffield’s course. The name’s Waylan Peters.”
She narrowed her eyes. She did remember that course, but per usual, she’d always sat in the very front of the auditorium and hardly paid attention to the other students.
Why would she? Most of them were insufferable uppities who spent more time at the taverns than on coursework.
And besides, the professor had been the premier researcher in all Yalvara on the subject of First Earth tech.
She hadn’t had time to play nice with the others.
Both Petra and Ellis had taken it the semester before and had sung its praises.
“A pleasure.” Hallie gave him a small smile. “I apologize, but I don’t really have the time to chat at the moment.”