Page 24 of The Delver (The Vrix #2)

Time always lost meaning understone. Living in Takarahl, Urkot had rarely seen the sky, and he’d never really known whether it was day or night in the world above when he’d slept in his den. When he’d worked in the tunnels, there’d been no sunlight to mark time’s passage.

They’d simply worked until the next group of delvers arrived to take over.

Taking up a den in Kaldarak had changed all that. He was aware of every suncrest, every sunfall, knew when it was cloudy, when it was raining. He could tell what time of day it was by the shadows. He’d come to relish the feel of warm sunshine on his hide and fresh air in his lungs.

He could not blame Ketahn for having left Takarahl to dwell in the Tangle all those years ago.

Being in these tunnels now, he’d lost all sense of time again.

The darkness, the stale air, the damp stone, it was all as disorienting as it was familiar.

They’d walked for what felt like a very long while, following the subtle airflow.

At times, he had to stop where the tunnel split, extend his forelegs to either side, and stand motionless until he sensed the faintest current through his fine hairs to guide him.

These tunnels seemed endless, and there was no indication that he and Callie were any closer to a way out. Instead, they seemed to be striding deeper understone.

Urkot turned his head to look at Callie, who walked beside him with a crystal in hand.

His mandibles rose, his chest warmed, and his heartsthread thrummed. No matter how dark these passages were, she shone bright. A flame in the shadows, intense and pure, instilling him with strength and hope. She was beautiful and radiant.

She was his suncrest.

Callie tipped her face up and met his gaze. Her soft smile made his hearts thunder.

He rubbed at his chest and faced forward.

He didn’t know how long they’d rested before the spiritstrider had found them.

Callie had slept in his arms, he knew that, but what sleep he’d claimed had been broken and brief.

He could not completely lower his guard while they were down here.

Could not risk being asleep when the next danger arose, not while they had neither shelter nor protection.

Weariness had carved itself into his bones. His body pulsed with deep, throbbing aches, and his hide was tender in many places where it had been bruised while also feeling tight and itchy in others, where his cuts and scrapes were healing.

They would need to find shelter soon, would need real rest, because the longer they went without it, the duller his senses would grow and the slower his reactions would get. He would become too weak to protect her.

“Is it just me, or is it colder?” Callie asked, breaking the silence.

“It is colder.”

His gaze flicked toward something far ahead in the tunnel, well beyond the glow of their crystals. He halted, putting out his lower hand to stop Callie beside him, and tilted his head.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Urkot tucked his crystal in his palm and curled his fingers around it, snuffing out its light, before covering Callie’s crystal with his lower hand. As the darkness swallowed them, what he was staring at became clearer—it was another source of that soft blue light.

“You see?” he asked softly.

She stepped forward and squinted. “Is there light ahead?”

“Yes. We stride with care. Stay close.”

Uncovering the crystals, he proceeded forward, positioning himself slightly in front of Callie. The light ahead was likely the result of a natural occurrence, but who was to say whether the spiritstriders also gathered crystals to use as light sources?

I could be leading Callie right to their den.

But as they neared the light, it wasn’t the unsettling clicking of spiritstriders he heard—it was the gentle sound of flowing water, accompanied by a hint of its fresh, crisp scent.

Finally, they reached the source of the light.

Crystals grew from veins in the walls and ceiling, in tiny clusters that became larger as Urkot and Callie drew closer to the opening at the end of the tunnel.

These were soon joined by another source of light—glowworms. The small creatures wriggled on the ceiling and hung from glowing strands of silk, forcing Urkot to duck to avoid them.

Their glow was the same blue as that of the crystals.

“Oh gross,” Callie said. “Are those worms ?”

Urkot glanced back to find her hunched down as she walked, with her hands over her head and her nose scrunched. He couldn’t help but recall how she’d reacted when a bug had landed on her hair in the swamp several moon cycles ago.

That had been the first time he’d stroked her hair. That had been when he’d forced her to say his name, to acknowledge him. To see him.

Something warmed inside him at the memory.

He chittered, as much in amusement as to push aside the stirrings deep within himself. “They cannot hurt you, Callie. But they are…sticky.”

“Blech. I’ll take your sticky, but I’m not touching those things. They’re all squirmy and…ugh!” She shuddered.

“They taste good.”

She gagged.

Urkot chittered again; he’d known what her reaction would be. The humans had been offered grubs to eat before they’d left their crashed ship behind, and only three had been brave enough to try them—Will, Lacey, and Cole. None had seemed to enjoy the experience.

Apparently, that satisfying pop of biting down on a grub was not quite so satisfying to humans, and neither was the flavor. Or the texture. Or the wriggling.

Not any part of it, really.

He extended an arm, holding his hand over her head to shelter her. “Do not worry, female. I will shield you. If any touch you, they will become a snack.”

Callie gagged again.

Urkot’s mandibles rose as he looked upon the female beside him. She was such an endearing creature.

Mine. She will be mine.

Finally, they reached the opening, and all other thoughts fell away from Urkot’s mind. He and Callie abruptly stopped, their attention seized by the sight in front of them.

The tunnel opened on a huge cavern. The light of the countless glowstones and glowworms on the walls and ceilings reflected off the water of a clear lake, filling the space with shimmering luminescence.

Plants and mushrooms, many of which gave off their own light in pinks, purples, and reds, grew near the water.

Faintly glowing fish swam in the lake, their forms obscured by the rippling surface.

But it was the objects rising from the water that drew Urkot’s gaze. He tilted his head as he studied them. They were made of stone, covered in algae and moss and worn by untold age, but he knew their shapes—four male vrix, four females.

They were statues of the Eight, partially submerged in this lake deep, deep below ground.

“Wow,” Callie softly exclaimed.

Urkot stepped closer to the edge of the rocky drop-off that led down to the water. He crossed his arms in the symbol of the Eight, reminded again of his missing arm.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“A temple. Once.”

“How can you tell?”

“That one”—he gestured to the closest statue, a male—“holds a spear. He is the Hunter. The Protector holds her shield, the Broodmother an egg. And that one, the Weaver…”

Callie cocked her head. “That one’s not holding anything.”

Lifting his upper hands, Urkot spread his fingers in an imitation of the statue. “He held thread between his fingers, but the thread is gone.”

“And that one?” She pointed to a male statue at the far end of the pool, which bore a crude pick in one hand and a large, glowing crystal in the other. “Is that the Delver?”

He smiled at her. “Yes.”

She hummed, glancing between Urkot and the statue before her eyes settled upon him. She grinned and slowly trailed a finger down his chest and abdomen.

Urkot’s mouth parted with a soft, shaky exhalation.

“They should have shaped him like you,” she said.

With a trill, he curled his lower hand around her hip and drew her closer. She gasped, hands flying up to settle on his chest, and peered up at him with wide eyes. He wrapped his upper arms around her.

“No,” he said, voice falling low. “I was shaped only for you…and you for me, female.”

She made a small whimpering noise, keeping her eyes locked with his.

Heat suffused her body, burning into him, and her cheeks darkened with it.

Her fingers curled against his chest, and he felt the scratch of her blunt claws against his hide.

He wanted to feel them dig deeper. Wanted them to mark him, to make her claim on him a true, physical thing.

Callie cleared her throat and patted his chest. “So, uh, where do we go from here?”

The press of his stem against his slit was a clear answer, but not one he could give to her. They needed shelter, needed rest, and he needed to put her safety before his cravings.

Reluctantly, he withdrew from her and faced the lake, searching its edges.

There were a few small ledges down at the water’s level, but those were too exposed and would leave them vulnerable to any creatures dwelling in the water.

They needed height and seclusion. Something that would not only provide protection from unknown beasts, but keep them out of sight from spiritstriders.

Then he spotted it—a higher ledge, which led to a grotto with glowing vegetation hanging on either side of the opening. Reaching it would require a climb, but that made it safer; once Urkot and Callie were up there, they would be out of easy reach.

“There,” he said, gesturing toward it. “We will rest there.”

Callie followed his gesture with her eyes, which rounded. She looked at him and blinked. “Up there? All the way up there? Meaning, swimming all the way across the water, which has who-knows-what lurking inside, and climbing up?”

Urkot dipped his chin. “Yes.”

He collected her glowstone and placed it, along with his own, in his pouch. There was more than enough light here to safely leave their hands free.