Grit dug into her palms, the only thing that kept her from whimpering. The enclosed space, the dark, the musty smell . . .
The crawl extended longer than she wanted, and the growing suspicion that Jhor sent them to their doom rattled about her head before a light blinded her and a burst of fresh air caressed her cheek. Cursing to herself, she squinted through pained tears and would have fallen from the step-high exit, if the khentauree had not grabbed her. She helped the other two and closed the round portal.
The cave was open to the night sky, the stars a sprinkle of brilliance against the soft glow of purple space clouds. Jiy never had such a view, and Lapis appreciated this one.
The moon and a single, bright lantern hanging by the tunnel exit illuminated sagging wattle fences surrounding loose soil and a scattering of dry grass and leafless brush. Soft trills of insects interrupted the silence. It resembled the garden at the Hallows, though she doubted a lizard had touched the place in many, many years. The ragged plants had no care, though the pristine stone tiles that created pathways between must have someone to sweep them.
“This is the Meditation,” Sanna said as she straightened. “It is silence without silence.” She daintily trod in the center of the squares, heading to the left.
“Why do you want silence so badly?” Linz asked, eyes wide as they took in the sight.
“In silence, there are no broken khentauree. In silence, there is nothing. It is . . . comforting.”
“You were silent?” Lapis asked.
“No, not like the others. Jhor calls it drifting. I drifted. I did not know, how many years it was from the mine owners leaving to him finding the pool. It is a hum, a blur, blackish about the edges. Ghost calls it meditation. But meditation is circling in a pattern, precise movements, light steps.”
“And you like Jhor.”
“Yes. He is not like the mine owners and more like the man who coded us.” Her head swiveled about, and she stared back at them as she proceeded forward. “Jhor finds the long tunnel disturbing. You will find it disturbing, too.”
“What’s disturbing about it?”
She did not reply, and Lapis’s tummy churned, picturing the remains of another Dentherion invasion slaughter.
A glow erupted from Sanna’s sphere, and Linz held her light high as they approached a tall, wide tunnel entrance. Silver glints caught the beams, reflecting softly. Khentauree lined the way, lying on their sides on the ground between thin, raised wrinkles in the stone, hands folded over their chests, legs tucked up into their bodies. Holes and dents covered the metallic flesh, collapsed skin exposing wiring and mechanical innards. Dust and rust coated much of the exteriors, with the ones nearest the Meditation possessing heavier damage than those further from open exposure. A couple of niches held bones, and by the look of the skull, terrons bodies had rotted there. All had the remains of petals strewn about them.
They walked through a graveyard.
“What do you call this tunnel?” Linz asked softly.
“Nothing,” Sanna replied. “Those who went to silence here wanted to be near the Meditation, but we did not name it.”
“And the terrons?”
“They suffered, and they wanted to find silence away from their masters. Their masters never found the Meditation. They never found this tunnel. We leave them where they fell. The terrons said, they returned to nature. So the khentauree wanted to help them return to nature. Nature is not silence, but it is not a bad thing, to return to nature.”
“Did all the khentauree go to silence while the mines were active?”
“Most, yes. Some went later. Some wanted to break above ground. They broke faster than those below. That is better; they could not be brought back from silence.”
Piles of debris were not viable machines.
“How many khentauree were here?” Brander asked, disquiet tinging his tone. The three of them had instinctively formed a tight group, stepping carefully to avoid touching the long-gone mechanical beings and their terron compatriots.
“Thousands. They brought more and more, when we broke and they could not fix us. Those they brought had broken, too, but not as badly, and they broke further. Ghost and I and Chiddle made certain they went to silence, rather than remain active but motionless.”
“Were there any left besides the khentauree Gedaavik coded?” Lapis asked.
“Yes. Amu and Reeds take care of them.” She swiveled her head to them. “Anquerette did not find them. That is good. Anquerette should not research on not-broken khentauree.”
She agreed completely.
“How did Anquerette capture you?”
“They told me they would hurt Jhor. I did not want them to hurt Jhor.”
The soft pain tugged at Lapis. She knew, if given the same choice, she would do the same for Patch and Rin. “So Anquerette put the sphere in you.”
“Yes. But this is for subterfuge.” She tapped at the cyan object. “Jhor deleted their code, and he deleted the fake sponoil and the inner additions. He promised, once Anquerette is gone, he will remove the sphere. That is fine. Or I may change torsos. That is fine, too. Chiddle wants to keep his. He uses it, but not as they wish.
“Jhor is good. He wants to use khentauree examples to help people. Khentauree do not mind, helping people. We helped the miners. They were not the owners, and when they broke as we did, they needed much help.”
Lapis did not want to know, how terribly the mine owners treated their human employees. She had read about the awful things done to the average worker by corporations before Dentheria invaded. Then the empire took over the cruelty, dishing it out indiscriminately. So many in the Grey and Stone Streets despised purchasing Dentherion anything because of the way their empire-backed employers treated them.
The tunnel curved back and forth, and continued for far longer than Lapis anticipated. The khentauree must had dug it that way, avoiding intersecting other spaces and lengthening it when necessary. It ended in a thick metal door with a screen to the side. Sanna swiveled to them.
“This leads to other tunnels. Anquerette and the black-clad people and the Jiy people use them. They go to a spring and they get water. We will not go to the spring, but we may see people who are.”
The door slid silently open, and they exited into a tunnel containing the same light-emitting tiles the Kells underground passages had, illuminating the half-buried remains of train tracks. Large square openings in the wall allowed them to see into the parallel, and luckily vacant, tunnels. Random cars sat on some of the rails, their sides torn open or crushed; a few had tipped over and their wheels removed, and all had rusted. Unlike other areas, trash rested everywhere, crumpled papers and bits of plastic that held their color, cloth, wire, broken sides of unknown objects. Some had dirt coating them, others only a smattering of soil. Lapis wrinkled her nose at the faint whiff of underlying rot.
Sanna swiveled her head to them. “There are others,” she said. “They carry the weapons that the black-clad ones have.” She turned and rushed to the left; Lapis hastily followed, Linz and Brander a step behind.
Keeping up with a khentauree proved as difficult as sustaining pace with an agitated terron.
She halted and pointed to a door half-ajar. A space rested to the right and a cave-in blocked the rest. Glancing at the others, Lapis hustled in, Brander and Linz squeezing behind. Sanna stood in front, and the silver of her skin darkened, mottled, until it became difficult to distinguish her from the dirt and rock around them.
Camouflage? Curiosity welled; what else could the mechanical beings do? Dread followed; finding out might not prove healthy.
“What in the Fourth God is he thinkin’?”
The man spoke Jilvaynan, with the same northern accent as those who had wanted shelter in the Hollows. How many disgruntled country boys had Gredy conscripted?
“He doesn’t,” another said. “We should have left when he first started threatenin’ the markweza. You don’t yell at a foreign royal.”
“He ain’t foreign to him,” a third said.
“Sanna, how many are there?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“Ten,” she replied.
“What do you want to do now, Liwren? We can’t go back.”
Liwren?
Rage shot through her. The ass who led the kidnappers. Had their nastiness caught them? Good.
She ducked down and looked through Sanna’s legs.
“Lanth—” Brander began.
“Liwren’s the man who kidnapped Rin and Tovi,” she muttered.
“Yeah, well, they don’t have them anymore.”
She snarled. So?
“We need t’ get up top,” Liwren said heavily.
“We should have gone with Deswrik. The workstation took them in, no problem,” the first said.
“You only have Gredy’s word for that, because that’s what he used t’ justify attackin’ them.”
“Why is he even down here?”
“How should I know? I can’t contact Lieutenant Cile, and I don’t want t’ talk t’ any more of the Meergevens. They’ll just call us traitors and try t’ kill us.”
How horrible. Maybe they should have thought about repercussions before they signed on to a bloodthirsty madman’s mercenary troop.
“It’s probably too late for that. Do you think, he’ll hunt down our families, like he said? How’s my mom goin’ t’ protect herself and gran-na?”
That . . . that . . . she would see Gredy dead, for threatening kin.
Lapis patted Sanna before slipping under her belly and peering around the corner.
“Lanth!” Brander hissed. She waved at him, intent on the backs of the men who just passed them. They walked, shoulders slumped, somewhat dragging, defeated. Their weapons rested across their packs, so they did not expect an attack.
She stepped forth. “You fucks,” she snarled.
They whipped around and she pointed at them as they reached for their tech. “Don’t even think it.”
“Who are you?” Liwren asked, outraged and bewildered, as the men parted to give him a better view of her. He looked the typical northern Jilvaynan farmer; dull brown hair, deeply tanned, sad eyes. A weariness infused his visage, one too many shanks in the Stone Streets wore, when life had beat them severely enough they gave up, however momentarily.
“Lady Lanth.”
“The kid’s mentor?” one asked, slack-jawed, incredulous, as another smacked his arm in warning.
“What, you didn’t think I’d rescue him?” she asked. “I’m a chaser. I’m accustomed to the danger in retrieving kidnap victims.” True, while many chasers rescued kidnapped people, she never dared take one. Too dangerous—but they hardly knew that. “Where’s Rin and Tovi?”
They glanced at one another, as if they understood telling her bad news was a bad idea. She mentally patted herself on the back for playing the part of concerned, furious mentor. She had the upper hand.
“They took off,” Liwren finally said, rubbing at the back of his head and staring at the floor.
“Took off?”
“When the khentauree attacked,” the first said, his voice wobbling. “I’d think, they were helpin’ them. But they’re just machines.”
“They aren’t just machines,” Lapis said coolly. “You haven’t been paying attention if you think that.” Every single one firmed their lips, guarded, even more so as she felt Brander and Linz join her.
Then panicked.
“Sanna’s kind enough to help us rescue Rin and Tovi,” she told them gruffly, deeply annoyed at their fright. “But she’s not the one you need to worry about, is she.”
“You killed—” the first speaker yelled.
“I killed no one,” she said. The fuzzy monotone voice nearly sent a shiver up Lapis’s spine. She had not truly realized how much emotion the khentauree put in her speech. The warmth pervading her banter with Jhor, and the matter-of-fact calmness she used with them, juxtaposed to the impassive words she now uttered, concerned her. Was it intentional? How good of an actor was the machine?
“You order them around!” he squeaked.
“Khentauree do not do what khentauree do not want to do,” she informed them.
“Who do you think she killed?” Lapis asked.
Silence.
She hated dealing with the superstitious, though, if they spoke about the mining khentauree with picks, she wondered how many wanted silence so badly, they saw a suicidal opportunity. Did any of them feel remorse in attacking their captors? Just the few words Sanna said about owners indicated the machines did not have favorable views on people with power, though they held sympathy for those in desperate situations like themselves. That might explain their help, above what Jhor asked Sanna to provide.
“So, I want to know—did Gredy threaten your families.”
More silence. She sighed.
“Tell you what. If you make it to Ambercaast, head to the workstation. Ask for Faelan’s rep. Tell them Lanth sent you, and that Gredy threatened your families. They may be able to help, if he gets out of this alive.”
Liwren narrowed his eyes. “Faelan. Hoyt’s people are talkin’ ‘bout him.”
“Hoyt.” The men shivered. How did she sound? Menacing? Pissed? If Hoyt targeted her brother, it provided another reason to send them to the workstation to report. “Where is he?”
Liwren swallowed, his eyebrows creasing in concern. He, like too many guttershanks she dealt with, had no idea how to handle anger in a woman. He finally jerked his thumb to the side. “Up the north tunnel, at a collapse. There’s aquatheerdaal there, but just small bits. They’re tryin’ t’ figure out how to get it out of the rock.” His gaze flicked to Sanna.
“They?”
“He’s got help. I don’t know who they are. Dentherion soldiers guardin’ them, though.”
“They’re not soldiers,” the first grumbled sourly. “They’re playin’. Said they ain’t enlisted, just here ‘cause some Second Council son hired ‘m.”
“Not Black Hats?”
“Black Hats? Who’s that?” The first asked.
“A criminal syndicate out of Ramira that’s on Requet’s pay,” she told them. They did not react to the leadcommander’s name, so they had no idea who Hoyt had ties through. Not that it mattered; they knew a Second Councilor’s son played a role. “Sanna, do you know a way above ground from here?”
“Yes. Why?”
She sounded dead. Lapis turned to her. “Whatever they’ve done, their families don’t deserve to pay for it. Faelan can help.”
The khentauree stared at her, then nodded slowly. “You care about their families? Why?”
“My own died, for the actions of one. Men like Gredy don’t care how old or young their victims are. My little brother was only six, so I know. It’s terrible for families to suffer for the sins of one.”
Sanna cocked her head. “You are kind, like Jhor,” she stated, the cool fuzz falling away into the warmer tone. “Too kind.”
“You’re helping us find Rin and Tovi, at risk to yourself and Jhor, so we can say the same of you.”
Sanna straightened, surprised, then relaxed. “You are odd, like Jhor,” she said. She looked at the ex-mercs and hummed. “Go north, towards this Jiy camp. There is a tunnel with red arrows. Follow the arrows to the cross. Take the right. It is long, and some collapse. It will lead you to mine buildings. You can see the city from there.”
“Thank you, Sanna,” Lapis said.
“You trust it?” Liwren asked, flabbergasted.
She could not keep the rageful dislike out of her response. “HER. And yes, I trust her.”
The happy, clicky sound that erupted from the khentauree startled her, and the men took a step back. How to respond to that? She played a part, and she felt terrible for Sanna reacting to it. She still felt wary herself around the mechanical being, and she could not quite trust Jhor. But . . .
Sanna rose up, and fell back down, like an agitated horse. “Others come,” she said. “They have weapons, too. Anquerette.”
“Let’s go,” Brander ordered. The ex-mercs looked lost as the khentauree surged around them and her group followed. They could take the advice or wander around, lost, until Anquerette happened upon them. She doubted they would look favorably on anyone associated with Gredy.
The khentauree raced past boxcars and multiple doorways before halting at one. She pressed her hand into the side panel, as Jhor had done at his lab, and the door silently whisked open. They followed her into a room so dark Lapis saw nothing, even her hand before her face. Sanna closed the door.
“They come,” she told them. “We must be still.”
Lapis held her breath; she thought she heard movement, an irritation of muffled sound, before silence again descended.
“We will go around. It is safer,” Sanna said.
Linz clicked on their light and turned from the door. The gleaming glitter of multiple eyes reflected the beam.
