Of Silver and Beasts (21 page)

“Hurry and finish,” I say, nodding to his meager wedge of cheddar cheese. “We need to get you wielding swords and slinging axes.”
And I need to explore and find a way to contact Lilly
.

As Caben picks bite-size pieces of hard cheese, eating with a scowl on his face, I recall the outside of the cell. I made sure to study the building before the incident with Lilly happened. It’s much larger than the space we’re given to roam, and I’m sure that means the ring leaders have their own section in this massive place. I just need to find a way to her side.

After Caben and I enter the training area and take up swords and two tattered mats for sparring, I glance around at the large, rock-enclosed room. The Otherworlders build their homes and buildings out of the earth itself. And the earth has caves and crevices and chambers.

Lifting my sword languidly over my head and stretching out my muscles, I continue to search. Then I catch the low trickle coming from the tiny waterfall in the back of the chamber.

There.

The water flows from an underground stream somewhere. I’m sure it supplies the other ring leaders’ contenders with water, too. In order to chamber the water and guide it toward each ring leaders’ section, at some time, someone had to crawl in there. Is there an access point from inside here?

“Kal,” Caben says, snapping my attention back to the now.

I give my head a shake. “Yes?”

“You’re staring off into space,” he says. “And space doesn’t exist down here. What are you thinking about?”

“I’ll tell you later.” I raise my sword. “Remember, don’t get cocky and start taking sloppy swings when you think you’ve beaten your opponent.” I widen my eyes. “Like yesterday.”

His face flushes; the scarlet hue is barely visible in the dim lighting, but it’s enough to bring a healthy glow to his stubbled cheeks. My stomach tumbles.

“Don’t worry,” he says, meeting my blade with his. “I’m a quick study, remember? You’ll not best me again today.” He thrusts his sword forward, trying to catch me off-guard.

Simple man
. I shake my head.

I wonder if the goddesses denied males estrogen in order to balance the sexes. They are stronger physically, but clearly lacking in common sense most of the time. He tried this same tactic the day before and it didn’t—

Caben moves to his left and lunges, snapping his blade taut against my hip.

“Point, me,” he proclaims.

Goddess
.

“Nice way to change it up,” I say.

His dark eyebrows shoot up. “A compliment?” He chuckles. “They need to feed us better. You’re starting to lose your edge.”

It’s impossible to measure the passing of time down here. There’s no sky, no sun, no devices in the cell to determine it. So I keep track of when Bax comes and goes, sends food, makes announcements. He must be going by some sort of schedule. I just need to learn it, and discover when Caben and I can find privacy to inspect the waterfall.

It’s now after our second meal—we only get two—and the contenders are mingling in the master cell and their private chambers. Yesterday, Bax came to pronounce that we performed well for the gamblers and he was pleased with his league. So I sit patiently in the corner, waiting for him to make an appearance.

Caben and Crew are talking a few feet away, and I hope the prince isn’t giving away any information. He truly does confound me. One moment he’s clueless, seeking guidance like a man-child, and the next he’s cunning and grappling like a war lord.

Astonishing.

No, still confounding. I shake my head. When we escape and the Otherworlders’ reign of horror ends, I wonder what the future holds for us. Will he speak to me as familiar as he does down here? When he makes his visits to Cavan, maybe? Will we share knowing glances, but pretend we were never cellmates?

Or maybe he’ll simply never travel to Cavan, as he never did before.

I trace my wounded finger across the stone floor, making swirls in the dirt. It’s not important, and doesn’t matter what the rulers of the Three Realms do. Why should that matter to me? I need to be focused on getting us out of here. That’s all.

Maybe Caben is right. Poor diet is weakening my mind and body. I groan. You’d think the ring leaders would want their contenders in the best shape possible. But maybe not. Maybe they only want them strong enough to fight for their lives, but not outwit or outmuscle them.

Somewhere on the other side of these walls, Lilly, Willa, and the other Nactue are thinking and plotting, too. Lilly may even have figured out the mystery boggling my thoughts. I’ll get to her, I assure myself. Then I close my eyes for a moment.

Far away, Empress Iana is resting in a sick bed, praying for her people as her life force fades dimmer. The very thing to restore her health is just streets away. I wish I could feel my mother as I do the empress—to at least know that she’s alive. Safe.

My eyes snap open and I look down at my cuff. Crew said it was a monitor, but I wonder if it actually monitors our whereabouts or simply our wins and identity. And if so, whether there’s a way to disarm the locator.

The loud
clank
of the cell door opening interrupts my contemplation. Bax enters the room with a small smile curling his thin lips, his armored chest puffed out.

“Contenders,” he says, his deep voice rumbles. “The Reckoning begins in eight hours. You’re competing for the freedom ring. I suggest you rest up.” He lifts his chin. “May the finest contender win.”

Competing
, I scoff inwardly, my muscles tensing.

Crew jumps to his feet and turns toward Bax. “Who fights first?” he asks. “And where’s my cuff—the one with my wins?”

Bax rolls his shoulders back, his face hardens. “I did not give you permission to ask questions. But since you bring up some good points, I’ll answer.” His eyes roam over the contenders, and I grip the hem of my tunic between clenched fingers. I plead to Farrah that Caben won’t be chosen to fight one of my sisters.

I’m only slightly relieved when Bax’s gaze lands on Tobias. “The Dark Horse, Tobias, will face-off with Collar’s equally matched Metal Mouth.”

My chest loosens and I breathe. Though the fact that I’m thankful someone other than my charge or sisters may die first fills me with guilt. Before my thoughts dive any darker, Bax clears his throat, calling our full attention.

“And,” he continues. “Since this is a new season, you’re cuffs have been replaced—to ready you for your wins for the Reckoning.”

Everyone glances at their cuffs. My three stones shimmer, but no lights. I look up to see the rest of the contenders’ cuffs dull and unlit. Cleared—the deaths wiped out. Crew shouts out and barrels toward Bax. A guard captures his arms, pulling him back. Tobias starts, only getting a foot ahead before he’s taken down by Bax’s other guard. The chains on the guards’ chests rattle against their dark armor as they wrestle the furious contenders.

Outside the cell, five more guards fill the entrance, ready to dampen any attempts at a riot.

Crew’s chest heaves and his face pinches in anger. “You can’t do this,” he snarls.

For a moment—almost too quickly—Bax’s mouth turns down, his expression remorseful. But then it’s gone, his features snapping back into their usual hard mask. “Rest up,” he says, then exits the cell.

The guards drop Crew and Tobias to the ground, clamp their pale hands on their weapons, and wait to see if the other contenders will retaliate. As Crew picks himself up, the guards eye him. He turns and heads toward his personal chamber.

After Tobias does the same, the guards leave, slamming the cell door behind them.

The air in the master cell is thick with resentment and tension, and maybe guilt. I can’t imagine how it feels to have killed in a blood sport—to know you may only need to end a few more lives—only to be told you have to take even more.

Then again, these people might simply be angered that their wins have been removed, that they’ve been set back. Some of them have been chosen because of their fierce reputations in their realms. They may have more blood on their hands then the Otherworlders.

Lena retires to her chamber soon after Kaide and Orion leave, and Caben and I are alone in the master cell, the training room open to us.

Caben walks over to me and lowers himself into a squat. “I know you’re out here for a reason,” he whispers. His eyes flick over my face, and I study the scar slashing the side of his temple and cheek, my eyes tired and slowly closing.

I give my head a shake, waking myself out of the sleepy daze. “Do you know much about tracking devices?”

His lips quirk into a side-grin. “Yes,” he answers simply. “Technology is just one of the things Perinyians are very good at.”

I allow him to bask in this victory, as I’m not technologically inclined, but wonder about the rest of his unspoken claim. What other skills does the prince harbor that I’m unaware of?

As if he knows my plan, Caben flips his cuff and inspects the backing. He reveals a thin metal pin from his waist band, then works the hinge of the cuff. I raise an eyebrow. “It doesn’t have a tracking chip,” he says, turning the cuff around and showing me the back. “It only ticks down an algorithm. I assume, for number of kills.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “We have to be certain.”

He nods. “Yes. A monitoring chip needs a special processor with a cooling device.” He takes my hand and presses my fingers to the back plate of his cuff. “It’s cold. The outside would be warm as it heats up to cool the inside of the chip. Bax lied. There’s no biometrics.”

Confused, but willing to trust his knowledge, I nod once. Then I study the stones set on the front of the cuff. Their milky consistency is familiar, and the blue sheen reminds me of the surface of the—“Moonstone,” I say, as it comes to me.

Caben’s head snaps back. But my mind is slowing putting together the Otherworld.

I look up at him, and ask again, “Are you sure we can’t be tracked?”

He nods. “I promise.”

“Then we have seven and a half hours to find our secret passage.”

“Here,” he says. The spray splashes my arm as I reach behind me to grasp the light that he pried from the training room floor. I glance over my shoulder. His face is cast in a dim blue-gray hue, his eyes illuminated under the dark glow. “I should be the one climbing while you keep a lookout.”

Tucking the lighted stick into the front of my tunic, I remind him, “We’ve already discussed this.”

“Yes, but you’d be better at coming up with an excuse,” he says, a crooked smile curving his lips.

For a moment, I’m worried he’s right. Then I recall his elaborate plan, the one that led me all over downtown Cavan as I unknowingly helped him plan an escape. “I doubt that.”

His smile widens and he winks. Ignoring his smug expression, I reach up and grab ahold of jagged rock, then hoist myself up. I’ve nursed my injuries, and kept from moving and tearing at my healing wounds too much, but there’s no doing that now. Every aching muscle, every bruised rib feels the burn as I climb.