Page 39

39

R eturning to the Skyli with Filak was delightful.

They travelled there in the cart again, and now that Daisy knew what to expect, it was far easier to just relax and enjoy it. To revel in the air in her face, the stone walls sweeping by in the lamplight, the charge and the thrill of hurtling around sharp corners in the dark.

And once they stopped, in a place that felt deeper than last time, Filak led her to the Skyli in a different way. Through tunnels that were even rockier and rougher than before, but they also held even more new and fascinating sights — beautiful stalactites, jagged rock formations, stunning patterns in the walls. And though Daisy must have stopped a half-dozen times to draw, Filak again showed no signs of impatience, and even occasionally came over to hold the lamp close for her, or sharpen her pencil with his claws. And when he grinned and broke apart a wall, showing Daisy the wonderful little waterfall bubbling behind, it occurred to her that he’d brought her this way on purpose. He’d wanted to give her something new to draw, wanted to see it through her eyes.

And maybe he’d meant to do the same with the Skyli itself, because this time, once he’d cut through several more thick stone walls, he led Daisy to a new tunnel. One made of smooth grey stone, with multiple rounded doors lining its walls — almost reminiscent of the corridors back in Orc Mountain .

“ Hellir ,” Filak said, his eyes dancing, as he clasped Daisy’s hand, and pulled her down the corridor. “ Skyli … rooms, ach?”

Rooms . His excitement felt contagious, and Daisy eagerly accompanied him down the long corridor, exploring the rooms together as they went. Many of them were in a significant state of decay, with crooked floors and crumbling walls, but some were still intact, enough to suggest that this part of the Skyli had been focused on work, or perhaps schooling. There were multiple rooms with stone desks and tables, and one room had clearly been a workshop, still with a few rusty tools hanging on the walls. And next was a huge, empty forge, with a tall, beautifully preserved furnace rising up in the middle of it.

As they went, Daisy again captured as much of it as she could in her sketchbook, filling up page after page. Surely taking far too much time, but Filak still didn’t complain, or betray the slightest hint of impatience. And instead, he only took his time exploring the rooms, too, spreading and scraping his hands against the walls, sniffing at rocks and holes and debris.

“You’re sure you’re not bored?” Daisy asked, once she’d finished a detailed rendering of what might have once been a set of baths. “ Filak … leieist ? Gods , I’ve been drawing enough to fill an entire book.”

But Filak only gave a dismissive flourish of his hand, and then came over and stood behind her, studying her drawing of the baths with unmistakable awe in his eyes. “ Gott ,” he murmured, as he reached and carefully turned back a page with his claw, and then another. “ Art . Book . Daisy draw. Daisy make book.”

Daisy make book ? Daisy blinked, and then huffed a bitter little laugh, shaking her head. It was foolish to think she would ever write another book again, especially now that she’d gone and made Lew a genuine enemy — but damn it, she was supposed to be forgetting Lew , right? And behind her, Filak’s hand gave her arse a light little slap, followed by a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “ Make book,” he said again, firmer this time. “ Draw .”

Draw . Daisy couldn’t recall him even learning that word, and again it was far too easy to just agree, and obey. Accompanying him further down the corridors, drawing anything and everything that caught her eye, taking as much time as she pleased. And when Filak hesitated by one particular crumbling wall, spreading his hands against it, she took her time drawing him, too, doing her best to capture the focused awareness in his lean body, the concentration in his eyes.

“Come see,” he told her, with a swift grin over his shoulder, as he leapt up onto a tiny, almost imperceptible ledge in the wall, and peered up toward the ceiling. And when Daisy lurched over to look, holding up the lamp, she found a huge, gaping chasm up above, extending tall and narrow up into the blackness.

It was impossible to tell where it went, but Filak reached for his belt, where he’d again hung that rope they’d bought at the shop. And though Daisy hadn’t seen him use it before, he handled it with surprising ease, whirling it out around him, and then tossing it up the wall. To where there appeared to be some kind of ledge, jutting out from above, and Filak crowed aloud as the rope caught on the ledge, dangling down toward them.

“You’re not… climbing up there?” Daisy asked, while Filak hooked their lamp onto his satchel, still slung over his shoulder. And then, with a surprisingly graceful movement, he leapt onto the rope, and climbed up it with astonishing speed. His body growing smaller and smaller, the lamp’s light dimmer and dimmer, until he swung off the rope and… disappeared.

“Filak!” Daisy gasped, nearly dropping her sketchbook, but then his familiar face peered down over the top, his grin bright and eager. And with a purposeful movement, he tugged at the rope, making it sway and bounce before Daisy’s blinking eyes.

“Come,” he told her, and then he gestured at his foot, and waved toward the bottom of the rope. Suggesting that — oh. He wanted her to put her foot in the loop, hanging there at the end of the rope. He wanted to drag her up through a mysterious rocky hole, and if she fell, or he dropped her, surely it would be her doom.

“ Komdu , sólin mín ,” he said, softer. “ Safe . Ach ?”

Well. And maybe it was foolish, dangerous, but Daisy squared her shoulders, and stuffed her sketchbook in her satchel. And then, on a deep breath, she tentatively slipped her boot into the rope’s loop, and eased her weight onto it. Blinking up to where Filak grinned again, and then began hauling her up.

Daisy gasped at the feel of it — swaying on the rope, rising smooth and silent through the rocky dangerous chasm, while above her, Filak’s straining body leaned heavily backwards, one hand’s claws digging deep into the rope, winding it around his forearm again and again. And as Daisy rose nearer to the top, she could see that he was bracing himself against a ledge of stone, using his impossible magic to help. And for a breath, as she kept floating up through this stunning lost ruin in the darkness, this felt like magic, too. Like … art.

“ Gott, sólin mín ,” Filak said with a grunt and another grin, as he hauled Daisy up over the top, and into his safe sweaty arms. “ You like, ach?”

There was no denying it, suddenly, and Daisy grinned back toward him, and fought to catch her breath. And then, finally, she glanced around toward the tunnel he’d brought her to — or rather, the room. The large, ruined room, with a domed ceiling, and a familiar-looking tiled floor…

“The cave!” she exclaimed, as her eyes met Filak’s sparkling gaze. “ Filak , you found the first cave again!”

He beamed and nodded, and then waved her further into it, raising the lamp high so she could see. And yes, this was it, the exact same room he’d trapped her in, that first night they’d met — but the awareness of that felt distant, somehow, blunted beneath Daisy’s rising, clamouring curiosity. Despite the ruins, it still was a beautiful cave, with its rounded shape, its tiled patterned floor, its smooth, high stone ceiling. And those random rocks and boulders scattered about now looked more like benches, or maybe even beds…

And the longer Daisy blinked around at it, especially at the floor and the ceiling, the more it reminded her of that huge white room far below, with its beautiful domed ceiling, its eye in the floor. Except that this cave was noticeably smaller, and more damaged, and obviously much higher up, closer to the surface.

“What is it?” Daisy asked, hushed. “ Do you know?”

Filak had already begun roaming around the room, trailing his hands at the boulders, and his smile over his shoulder toward Daisy looked wry, or maybe even sad. “ ég held … it is… for humans,” he said slowly. “ Skyli Ka -esh — meet humans here. Court mates. Speak , and fuck.”

Oh. Ohhhh . Of course that made sense, so much sense. A place near the surface where orcs and humans could meet, a place that would offer a vivid example of the orcs’ home deep below. Proving to their potential mates that they didn’t live in tiny dank tunnels, but instead in large, dry, well-appointed rooms, where humans could still be happy and safe.

And Filak had… met Daisy here. Found her here. Found the entire Skyli , because of this. And gods, no wonder he’d taken it as a sign from his gods, and Daisy swallowed as her eyes settled on the largest flat boulder, in the middle of the room. The place, surely, where she’d spent the night with Filak . The place where he’d drawn that sun on her heart.

“It would have been a beautiful room,” Daisy finally said, her voice thick — and then she fumbled to pull out her sketchbook again. Flipping it to a new page, and then glancing around the room again, fighting to imagine it how it must have once been. An open, airy space, with plenty of room for moving or eating or dancing, talking or playing or making love. A room meant as a promise, a pledge to their human mates, that even underground, they wouldn’t be trapped alone in the dark…

Daisy’s hand was rapidly moving over the page, envisioning it as clearly as she could, and Filak had come over to watch, his eyes intent on the sight. Watching as her hand hesitated, hovering at the top of the domed ceiling she’d drawn, where it reached its full height. Where — her head tilted as she glanced up again — it almost looked like another one of those eyes. But an eye that was closed, as if…

“Did it… open?” Daisy asked, high-pitched. “ The eye? Sól ?”

Filak blinked at her, once, and frowned up at the ceiling. And then, with jerky steps, he strode over to look straight up at it, while Daisy’s hand sketched out what the room might look like, if that eye was open. If it allowed sun into this beautiful ancient room, maybe just enough to help and reassure humans, and to grow some plants and mushrooms — but not enough light to hurt the Ka -esh orcs, either. And what would it look like, that seemingly small stream of light reflecting off those black-and-white tiles in the floor, and maybe these walls had once been white, too. Just like… just like…

Daisy gasped just as Filak did, their eyes meeting, speaking, shouting — and when Filak rushed toward her, Daisy clasped his hand, and stumbled with him back toward the chasm they’d come up through. And with his help, she half-climbed, half-slid down the rope — far easier than she’d expected, thanks to her leather trousers — and then gripped his hand again before racing together through the corridors, taking a different turn than how they’d come in. Until Filak slammed his palm against another eye in the wall, and they burst out into…

The white room. The huge, domed temple, deep beneath the earth. A room that now looked so familiar, so similar to the room up above, especially with that closed eye embedded in the ceiling — and Filak set aside the lamp with a clatter, and sprinted over to the nearest wall. To one of the tall black metal contraptions that lined it, arching all the way up to circle around that eye. And those hadn’t made sense, or had they, because Filak was now picking at something new in it, something like a lever. And when he drew the lever down, there was a harsh, echoing creak, and then…

Light. Light . From above.

Daisy gasped and squinted up toward it, shielding her eyes with her hand — but yes, oh gods, the eye was open. Just a tiny sliver, but still enough to illuminate the entire room, far brighter than the lamp. Reflecting beautifully off all the white stone, but also lighting strongest in the very middle of the room. So someone who wanted the light could go stand directly beneath it, while someone who didn’t want it could stay against the walls, or even — more recognition flashed through Daisy’s thoughts — stay safely tucked into one of the many darkened alcoves lining the walls.

It was a room for orcs, and for humans. A room where Daisy and Filak could be together, and share the light and the darkness.

And even now, this very moment, Filak was standing in the dark against the wall, while Daisy had already drifted toward the light in the middle of the room. And she exhaled as she stepped into the full force of it, and then gave Filak a silly little wave, while something oddly pricked behind her eyes.

“How… how is this even possible?” she asked, her voice echoing across the room. “ Hvernig ? We’re so far underground, there’s no way…”

She attempted to gesture along as she spoke, and Filak’s shoulders rose and fell before he answered in swift, jerky Aelakesh . But he gestured as he spoke, too, and it was enough to suggest that the sun was coming in through some kind of very long, very elaborate tunnel, likely built with more reflective stone, or maybe even mirrors. A tunnel that reached all the way to the surface, but had somehow remained hidden, for all these centuries.

“Must be… in hard place,” he said, as his hands mimicked a tall mountain, a deep hole, a sharp dropping angle — a cliff, maybe. “ No safe.”

Of course that made sense, and Daisy nodded, blinking up toward the eye again, while a sparkling shiver rippled over her skin. It was a marvel, a stunning beautiful wonder, and suddenly she needed to see it opened all the way, needed to see this room bathed in light —

And surely Filak felt it, too, spinning back toward the lever in the wall, yanking harder against it — but then, something caught. Scraped , with a painful grating sound. And up near the light, the black metal quivered — and around it, Daisy could see the white ceiling… cracking. The jagged lines crawling out from the black metal, a spiderweb that kept growing, darkening…

Filak cursed and whirled back to the wall, gripping at the lever with one hand, and furiously waving Daisy toward him with the other. But she was already sprinting over to join him, slipping her arm tight around his waist. Feeling the effort in his lean body, the way every muscle was straining, his skin beading with sweat. Trying to stabilize this, surely, to save his newfound home.

But then he flinched, hissed, yanked backwards. And with another low curse, he swiped up the lamp, grabbed Daisy’s arm, and — ran. Sprinting at full speed out of the room and down the corridor, while the tunnel ominously heaved and shuddered around them.

It speared pure sharp terror through Daisy’s chest, and she stumbled to keep up, to stay upright on the shifting roiling earth. But her breath was already panting, her feet staggering, Filak was too fast, the rumbling too close, the panic screaming screeching blazing behind her eyes —

And then — Filak wrenched sideways. Dragging her through another door, into another darkened room, as his hand slammed into the wall, his claws digging deep…

And as Daisy stared, the terror flashing wild and white, the door behind him… Fell . Crashed . Collapsed , into pure, utter blackness, beneath a thundering crush of stone.