Steamborn (15 page)

“Are we getting low?” Jacob asked, following Alice and pulling the jar out of his pack.

“No, but I’d rather have too much than be stuck down here without the lantern.”

Jacob wasn’t going to argue with that. It was a
lot
darker than he’d expected.

Alice twisted a brass dial on the side of her lantern. A snuffer, not unlike those on Bat’s chandelier, curled up and extinguished the flame. Alice twisted the dial again in the green glow of the worms and set the lantern on the floor. She wiped the table down with her backpack and unpacked two square parcels of butcher’s paper wrapped in twine.

“Sandwiches?” Jacob asked, unable to keep a hint of excitement about them out of his voice. Alice’s mom made the best sandwiches, not that he’d ever tell his own mom that.

“Chicken,” she said, handing one to Jacob, “and some of that stinky cheese you like.”

Jacob grinned and tore the twine off his sandwich before unwrapping it and immediately stuffing it in his face.

Alice smiled as he chewed a bit that had been far too large. “The bread’s from the inn’s baker.” Her eyes trailed across the nearest line of shops.

Jacob followed her gaze. “Looks like it used to be an eatery down here,” he said before he stuffed his mouth with the thick sandwich again. He looked back at Alice. “Wow.”

“What?” Alice said around a mouthful of food.

“You’re almost done!”

“It’s a good sandwich.”

Jacob brushed his hands off on his pants before he picked up his backpack again. He pulled one of Charles’s vacuum flasks out and unscrewed the cap. Jacob looked at the little pressure gauge on the side of the copper cylinder. It was getting a little low. He’d need to pump it up again soon with the bellows. Jacob frowned when he realized the bellows were back at the observatory.

He shrugged and took a deep drink before leaning back into the metal chair. It didn’t look like the chairs should be comfortable, as lumpy as they were, but Jacob was pleasantly surprised. “Well, you want to go a little farther before we go back?”

Alice nodded as she finished her sandwich. “Oh yes, you’re not getting me out of here yet.” She held her hand out and Jacob passed her the flask. “Does Charles know you’re using his equipment to carry water around?”

Jacob reached for the flask when Alice finished. “Yeah, Charles does it too. You have to be careful about what he puts in there though. I accidentally drank his firewater once.” Jacob shivered. “It certainly earned its name.”

Alice laughed as Jacob closed the flask and put it away, along with the butcher’s paper and twine. “I’ll fire up the lantern if you want to pack up the glowworms,” she said.

Jacob did, and they both hefted their backpacks and started toward the catacombs.

Jacob stopped in the archway and looked at the top frame of the doorway. The old iron gate had clearly been broken out of the wall. His eyes traced the jagged line of rock that had been chiseled out to install the lift mechanism.

“Something tore it out of the wall,” Jacob said. He pointed to the dangling chains and fractured stone. “That big chain would have run through the channel.” He followed the shaft that connected to two large gears.

“Here’s the lever,” Alice said. She grabbed on to an old handle in the wall. She gave it a little tug. The only sound was a short click of metal on metal. “It’s all rusted.”

“I wonder how they opened it from the outside. I don’t see another switch.”

Alice shrugged. “Let’s go deeper. I’m hoping we find something more interesting than a broken door.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound so exciting when you say it like that.”

“Really?” Alice asked as she raised an eyebrow.

Jacob laughed and followed her as she started down the hall. They barely had room to walk side by side when they first started out, but it wasn’t long before the hall widened and they slowed to a stop.

“What in the …” Alice stared at the archway that loomed above them in the darkness.

“How high is that?” Jacob asked. A pair of ornate pillars, carved deep into the stone, flanked the sides of a tall arch. “It looks old.” He walked closer to get a better view.

“Look at the pillars,” Alice said. “They all have the same patterns as the cross over the entryway.”

Jacob looked up, and he could see the cross at the top of each pillar, and another at the peak of the archway. Some of the stone had broken away from the arch’s curve. “How do you think it broke? It looks too thick to break for no reason.”

“You think?” Alice asked as she ran her fingers over the petal-like stone at the base of a pillar. Each pillar seemed to be growing from a stone flower. “It could have been too heavy. You remember when that stone tavern collapsed by the Square last year?”

Jacob nodded. “Charles said it was too heavy to support itself.”

Alice walked through the arch. “Maybe that happened here.”

“Yeah, or one of those giant bugs came through here too.”

“Not funny, Jacob. Not funny.”

Something loud and low bellowed in the distance. The sound came from all directions, bouncing off the walls of the catacombs. Jacob shivered in the edge of the lantern light. He jumped when something grabbed his arm. It was only Alice.

“Jacob,” she hissed. Her fingernails dug into his arm.

Jacob took a deep breath before he spoke. “Should we go?”

“No,” Alice said. “You said Samuel told you to avoid the second level. We’re still on the first level. We’re fine.”

Jacob nodded as she released his arm. “You’re right, but don’t you want to know what made that sound?”

“If it means getting
killed?”
she hissed. “Stop and think, Jacob.” Alice walked through the archway, and he stayed close behind her. They’d only taken a few more steps when Alice stopped dead. She swept the lantern from one side of the catacombs to the other.

“There’re so many.” Jacob stared while the light played over the coffins on their left. They’d been carved from stone, each with a name and date above intricate murals and portraits.

Alice raised the light a little higher and almost shouted. She wrapped her arm around Jacob’s and lowered the lantern. “It’s a person,” she said. “It’s a whole person.”

“Raise the light again.”

Alice did, but she didn’t look where she was pointing it. Jacob helped guide it so he could see the bodies set into the walls. “They’re mummies. Miss Penny taught us about that, remember?” Jacob struggled to keep his voice calm. The mummies’ faces were taut and dry. They made his skin crawl, but something urged him to get closer and study them.

“I remember,” Alice said. She gently pulled on the lantern to move the light down and away.

They walked farther into the room. “Look at these,” Alice said, crouching down. “The coffins are all getting smaller.” She turned the lantern onto the wall farthest to their right.

Jacob stared at what had to be a thirty-foot-high burial wall. Shelves carved into the stone held more coffins than he could count. He watched Alice’s light trace a path down the wall until it vanished around a corner.

Even the smaller coffins were carved with admirable skill, bearing family crests or flowers or dragons. Jacob trailed after Alice. She seemed to be less frightened by the wall of closed coffins than she was by the room with the mummies. Jacob could understand why.

The outer wall curved a bit, and narrowed, so the coffins grew ever closer. Something scampered through the shadows and Jacob shivered.

“What was that?” Alice whispered, pulling a cobweb off her shoulder. She started to rub it off on a nearby stone, but then stopped, probably remembering all the stones were coffins.

“I don’t know,” Jacob said. “How much farther in you want to go?”

“Let’s just see how deep it goes.”

They stayed on the path long enough that neither of them was sure how long, or how far, they’d walked, but the catacombs were clearly descending. The lower they got, the colder the air became, until the wall of stone coffins gave way to thick wooden coffins.

“Some of those look like they’re falling apart,” Alice said, leaning in close to one of the coffins. She read the name carved into the wood aloud. “Avery. You think it’s one of the city founders?”

“In a wooden coffin?” Jacob asked. “I’d guess if any founders are buried here, they’re by the mummies.”

Alice shivered at the mere mention of the corpses, and he wasn’t faring much better.

“You can’t read most of these.” Alice squinted at a few more of the coffins. “They’re too rotted.”

They continued down the path, following the slope until the coffins stopped. Another carved stone archway led them into a large circular chamber.

“What is this place?” Alice asked. The lantern revealed a glassy floor and a room filled with stalactites and stalagmites. The old stone had actually grown together in some areas, and it formed an eerie pattern, almost like the teeth of some ancient beast.

A drop of water fell and hit the floor. Ripples radiated out from the center of the drop.

“It’s a lake,” Jacob said.

“Kind of small to be a lake, but it’s definitely a lot of water. I guess we should head back.”

Jacob nodded in agreement. Something caught his eye in the darkness when Alice turned away. “Alice. Alice, wait. Look over there.”

She leaned back to see what he was pointing at. Off in the distance, around the right edge of the water, something glowed. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Let’s check it, and then we can go.”

“We’ve been down here a long time, Jacob.”

Jacob rubbed the straps of his backpack. “I know. We can make it quick.”

“Alright,” Alice said, stepping out in front of Jacob. She led the way around the water. A narrow stretch of rock created a walkway between the walls of the cave and the water. They squeezed past a wide pillar of stone and then they could see the hallway.

Something squealed and slammed like a heavy wooden door with rusted hinges. Jacob grabbed Alice’s arm and whispered as loud as he dared. “Turn off the lantern. Someone’s down here.”

“Who?” Alice asked as quietly as she could while she snuffed the light.

Jacob slid around Alice and shrugged as he headed toward the nearby square of light. The new hallway narrowed, and Jacob realized it wasn’t a hallway at all, but an old ventilation shaft. It was a rectangle, not unlike the shafts his dad had shown him in the mines, but this one was carved into the stone with more care than any he’d seen before.

Jacob walked as softly as he could. Voices grew louder as they approached the light. An old rusted grate separated the room and the shadowed shaft in which Jacob and Alice were hidden.

Snippets of the conversation became audible as they crept closer.

“… fool, they’ll never …”

“… wrong. I don’t think …”

Jacob and Alice inched their way forward until they could see the men inside and hear what they were saying.

The closest man faced away from them. Jacob guessed he was a blacksmith, with his wide shoulders, leather apron, and scorched pants. His voice was muffled, like he spoke through breathing mask. “It’s only been two weeks, and our food stores are depleted to the point we will no longer be able to support the people who matter.” When he stopped talking, a loud click sounded before the man took a deep breath.

“You’re
the fool, Newton,” said the other man, who stood whip thin in a pinstriped suit and a tall hat. He rubbed a broad mustache as he spoke. “The fact these families are poor does not mean they don’t
matter.”

“You know what does matter?” the first man asked. Jacob guessed he was the man named Newton. “Feeding our people matters, Benedict. Cutting down on the massive backflow of sewage matters. All of our systems are overtaxed. Soon the boilers that provide heat will fail, and we won’t be able to run so much as the city lights. Our walls will lock plagues and death inside with us.” Something hissed, and it seemed to come from one of the men. “You expect Highlanders to go into the mines?” He waited a beat, and there wasn’t a response. “No, of course not. We need to get these people out and back to work.”

“It’s not safe,” the second man said. “I won’t send these people out to their death. We’ll secure the Lowlands, at least build them safe passage, and then they can return to the mines.”

“They aren’t important. Send them out now to cull the herd and balance our food shortage. Finishing the railway and restoring the trusses are what’s important. We need to reopen trade with Dauschen. You think those bugs just
decided
to show up here?”

“What?” the thin man asked. “What do you mean?”

Silence seemed to close in all around them.

“If Dauschen allies itself with the Deadlands,” Newton said, “none of this will matter.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” The thin man made an exasperated noise. “Never mind. I won’t send these people to their deaths so you can have fuel for your lights.”

“You will, Benedict,” Newton said as he leaned in close to the other man, “or you’ll join them.”

The thin man, Benedict, grunted and doubled over. It took Jacob a moment to realize the man had been punched. Newton stomped away. The door squealed again when he threw it open. When Newton glanced back at the thin man, Jacob saw the mask over the lower half of his face—silver with four spikes along the jaw—a breathing apparatus he’d only heard tales about. Alice’s hand almost crushed his own. Newton was the city smith.

Jacob’s leg started to cramp. He shifted it slightly. Jacob overbalanced and threw his hand out to catch himself. He felt the loose brick move beneath his fingers. He lunged for it as it fell, but the brick bounced through the largest opening in the grate.

The crack as it hit the stone floor below was thunder in the quiet dark. Something metallic rattled and clanged nearby.

“Who’s there?”

Jacob froze when a shadow appeared at the grate.

Alice’s fingernails dug into Jacob’s shoulder. Neither of them breathed.

“Damn bugs get higher every day,” Benedict said. He slammed his palm against the grate a moment before Jacob heard retreating footsteps.