Of Silver and Beasts (13 page)

“Move, above-grounder scum!” the Otherworlder who cuffed the woman orders. He pokes the tip of his sword into her side, and with trembling hands, she gathers up her tunic, pulling it onto her shoulders.

The chain pulls taut and I’m forced to walk, dragging my boots through the loose sand. I glance behind me, knowing it’s only a matter of seconds before Prince Caben gets a brutal awakening.

The line halts, and an Otherworlder with silver rings decorating his eyebrows snarls at the prince. “Wake up, you filthy leech.” He kicks the side of his rib cage. Shaking his head, the dust clouding around him, Prince Caben pushes himself up onto his knees. He searches his surroundings and his eyes meet mine. I lift my brows, hoping he catches my signal for him to hold his tongue and do as he’s commanded.

His features reflect all the anger and embarrassment I’m feeling in this moment, and I know he’s battling his princely pride. But if the Otherworlders discover he’s the last heir to the Perinyian kingdom . . . Well, I’m unsure if they’d strike him down immediately or cart him off to be tortured. But it’s not in his favor to throw a royal tantrum.

Getting my unspoken message, he slowly rises, brushing the dirt from his tunic and pants. Panicked, I look at his hand—and the silver ring that carries his royal crest is missing. He isn’t as dimwitted as I thought. Releasing a heavy breath, I thank the goddesses that at some point, the price disposed of it.

The line moves forward again, and I look ahead. The blond woman before me tugs on her tunic, trying to keep it up. I press my lips together and tear a pleat from the bottom of my uniform. I rest my hand on her shoulder gently so I don’t startle her, then proceed to tie the split ends of her tunic together.

When I’m done, she turns her head and gives me a broken smile before continuing to lead our chained convoy through the desolate desert plain.

One of the Otherworlders’ war machines idles ahead of us. It’s larger than the ones I watched decimate our city, and I assume is being used to transport their slaves. To where, I’m not sure. But if I’m to break away, now would be the time to attempt it.

Gripping the chain in one hand to keep it from pulling the other captives and alerting the Otherworlders, I twist my wrist back and forth. The rusted metal cuts into my skin, and I bite down on my bottom lip. Damn. No slipping free, and the cuff isn’t giving—not without calling the mercury to the surface.

And that won’t do anything but cause unwanted attention and get me killed.

No. I’ll have to wait for an opportune moment. I’ll also have to figure out a way to free the prince, too. I can’t leave him behind. I disobeyed orders and botched my mission when I went after my mother. Hell, I botched it when I chose to go back to the palace instead of getting Prince Caben out of the city. Now the last heir to one of the Three Realms is in the hands of the enemy.

If I ever needed the goddesses’ mercy, it’s now.

Glancing around, I decide that I can’t simply leave these people behind either. I’ll have to find a way to free us all. I nearly laugh out loud in a fit as the desperation of my situation sinks in.
I’m only one person
. Maybe if I’m regrouped with the other Nactue then there’s a chance. I can only pray that this machine takes me to Lilly and Willa.

My chest pangs with a hollow ache, and I wince. Empress Iana is suffering. I can feel her pain. I can feel her life force fading just as I can feel the mercury churning violently in my blood as the Otherworlders steal it from my home. It’s as if something is awakening inside of me. As if Alyah herself is speaking, but the message is garbled.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I try to listen, but am halted to an abrupt stop when the chain snaps tight. My eyes fly open.

The Otherworlder with silver rings above his eyes throws the door on the side of the machine open. It slides wide with a loud
whomp
. “Inside,” he growls.

The blonde in front of me ducks her head and climbs in. I imagine yanking the chain up and wrapping it around the Otherworlder’s neck as I step up to the open door. Instead, I cut my eyes at him, committing to memory his bony, ashen face. Then I seat myself next to the woman on a long metal bench.

Tinted windows run along the inside of the machine. You can’t see through them from the outside. They appear as if steel or a part of the vehicle, and they’re possibly shatterproof. I stare out them now as the machine rumbles to life, then I watch as Cavan slowly slides away, becoming a speck of light.

I rest my head in my palms and try to swallow. My mouth is so dry it feels as if I’ve been drinking sand. Which, I have, truly. I grind my jaw back and forth, gritting dirt between my teeth. From the front compartment I can hear the Otherworlders guzzling and slurping. If the sound wasn’t so nauseating it might make me ravenous with need for water.

Overhead, a dim, thin and winding ultraviolet light wraps the roof of the hull. It washes the faces around me in a pale, unearthly glow. Prince Caben sits across from me, and the whites of his eyes are illuminated unnaturally. Flecks of white cloth woven through his uniform and cloak stand out in the same strange glow against the dark.

His eyes stay locked on my face, unblinking. And I’m suddenly wary that the Otherworlders’ dark light reveals the mercury beneath my skin. I break his gaze and instead stare at the sooty floor.

Before I can check my hands, Long Dreads stomps to the middle of our compartment and flops on the empty seat. He dips his head forward and pries one eye open, then pinches the clear, gel-like substance between his fingers. He removes the second lens from his other eye and rubs the matter until it’s dissolved. When he looks up, his eyes are two blue-white beams with pinhole pupils. A shiver crawls down my back.

The machine hits a divot and we bounce. The hard metal bench jars my backbone and I wince.

Two women in the middle of the bench opposite me cry out as they cling to each other. Long Dreads snarls at them, but this only makes them hug each other tighter. They share similar features—maybe they’re mother and daughter. The younger one with matted brown hair down her back can’t be much older than me. And the older woman covers her with her arms, trying to shield her, trying to be strong as her daughter cries, tucked against her chest.

My heart aches, and I again pray that my mother made it out of Cavan safely.

“Don’t move, maggots,” Long Dreads orders.

The lights above flicker, and then a beep blares. Metal brackets reach around my feet and waist, locking me into place. Panic swirls in my chest, prickling my senses, but as soon as I attempt to move, the machine grinds to a stop and pitches forward.

A high squeal echoes through the hull and I glance out the darkened windows. Ahead of us, a plateau stretches across the horizon, and a void separates the top of the land from the bottom. As if Farrah herself carved out the center, reaching her hand down from the sky and smiting the very earth.

The squealing noise heightens into a shrill ring, then something on the machine clamps down with a thudding
boom
.

A track.

We’re hooking up to some kind of track these machines were designed for.

Silence pervades the stuffy compartment, and then we’re lifted up and back down again. The prince’s eyes widen, and I’m two seconds from tearing at my restraints when the war machine lurches into motion and we’re hanging sideways, limbs and hair dangling at an angle.

We’re going down.

Outside the window is pitch black, and faint light shining from inside the machine reveals the earth’s crust moving at sonic speed past us. My stomach roils from the free-fall. It feels like we’re descending into hell.

And maybe we are.

The metal brackets gouge into my stomach and ribs as my weight bears down on them. Pain splinters my insides, and I look at the Otherworlder. His gray armor protects him. This is his world.

After countless minutes that feels like an eternity of straight, downward descent, the machine slows. Then it bucks to a creaking halt. The hair that came loose from my bun long ago floats beside my forehead, then we’re moving again. With a
pop
, the vehicle unhitches from the track and then rights itself.

The windows of the machine shimmer—the black tint peeling away to reveal a new world. A dark world. Towering earth mounds—half mountains, half buildings—rise up from the ground. The same ultraviolet light that hovers above me now illuminates their panes of dirt-caked glass and stone. The dark lights swirl and branch out, covering walkways and wire fences, casting the underground world in hues of glowing blues and neon whites.

And in the center, where we’re rumbling toward, a giant domed cage crackles with violent currents.

Oh, Alyah.

Where am I?

“Still have some fight in you, protector?” he asks. “Best save it for later. One move that isn’t ordered and I’ll skewer you to my sword.”

Drawing my eyebrows together, I square my shoulders, but say nothing. He laughs a throaty, deep chuckle, then proceeds to uncuff my arms. I wrap my fingers around my wrist and massage the irritated skin. Then quickly inspect it. My skin, though dirty and bruised, bares no evidence that the blood beneath is anything other than blood. I thank the goddesses.

I need to check my emotions—make sure I stay calm. I’m not sure what the Otherworlders would do to me if they found out. Maybe drain me for the mercury. Maybe experiment on me. I don’t know.

“Move ‘em out,” Long Dreads shouts, and the two Otherworlders take up their swords and wave them through the air, motioning us forward like cattle.

A metal bridge stretches across a cavernous divide, connecting two of the mountainous structures. Atop their pointed, misshapen rooftops, dark lights swirl in glass orbs, casting the Otherworld in an unearthly blue-green hue.

My boots clank against the grating, and I look over the side. The thin lights running along the walkway block the depth below, but from the echo, I’m sure a fall would mean death. I wonder how deep it is, or if there’s even a bottom. Steam hisses from the void, shooting past me and into the wide open vast that is the Otherworld.

The tower before me rises up from the abyss as we approach. Its jagged exterior and dim lighting makes my skin crawl. I’m not sure how a building can appear evil. But it does. A dark essence seeps from the structure’s core, filling the air and dragging my soul into the murky deep below.

Long Dreads stops before a large, rusted metal door and bangs on it three times. A slat slides open and two glowing eyes peep out. They rake us over, then the door whines open. We’re ushered into the dark, and a light ahead reveals a large chamber with more Otherworlders hustling around.

There’s a long iron table in the center, and an Otherworlder with the palest skin I’ve seen yet is seated behind it. His eyes settle on us, then he looks to Silver Rings.

“Bax,” Pale Face says. “What have you brought me?” He palms the table and pushes himself up into a hunched standing position. His back is curved awkwardly, as if his spinal cord is damaged.

Silver Rings—Bax walks up to him and clasps his shoulder. “We have another protector. Another Nactue.” He lifts his chin on this last part and smiles, his pointed teeth illuminated wickedly in the eerie light.

My whole body stills.
Another Nactue
. By the way he said it, it sounds as if the others are still alive.
Alyah, lead me to them
.

Pale Face jeers, his skin stretching across his bony, misshapen face, and he laughs. “Krewl and Collar each have two.” He works his jaw. It jerks sideways and back with a revolting crunch. Then his luminous eyes sweep over me. “And she looks fresh. Probably hasn’t had proper training yet. Krewl’s one girl would eat her alive.”