radiating from her skin was palpable.
She said nothing.
Nukha’il opened the gate for the elevator, and they all piled in. It creaked to life as soon as he shut the door.
Anthony tilted back his face to watch the shaft stretching overhead. The music echoing from the club faded rapidly. The bass died first, and then the treble, until all he could hear was the occasional faint hiss of snare.
Then that, too, was gone, and all he heard was the occasional creak of the elevator’s chain.
It was discomfortingly similar to Anthony’s descent into the cave-in. Had the path to the Warrens always been so dark?
“What’s the plan?” he asked Elise, trying to distract himself from the claustrophobic walls of the elevator cage.
She cracked her knuckles. “We find out who’s gotten into the gate.”
“And?”
“And we make sure that they don’t come out again.”
“You mean, we’re going to kill them.” Anthony choked on the sentence. “But Nukha’il left alive. Doesn’t that mean that this man is harmless?”
Elise remained silent, but he could feel her judging him. Her stare all but screamed, You stupid boy . Of course someone who had navigated the Warrens to reach the gate wouldn’t be harmless, and they certainly wouldn’t be innocent. And of course she wouldn’t think twice about killing them. She wasn’t Anthony.
He shut his mouth and didn’t bother trying to talk again.
They descended in silence for a few more seconds. He tapped his toes, trying to focus on the bars of the elevator instead of what was waiting for them below.
The light dimmed and buzzed. Elise shot a look at Nukha’il. He had woven his own feathers through his hair, and they shimmered with internal light.
“It’s not me,” he said.
Anthony spun slowly, gazing at the rising walls beyond the cage of the elevator. Or at least, he tried to see the walls—it was suddenly dark beyond the bars, very dark, and he couldn’t see the smoothly hewn stone at all.
The bulb popped. Sparks rained down on them, washing over Elise’s hair with a shock of yellow.
And then there was no light at all.
Anthony reached out, searching for his girlfriend’s hand, and found her elbow. She shook him off. Metal rasped on leather as she drew her sword. “I thought you said the shadow hadn’t reached the gate,” Elise said.
“It hadn’t.” Nukha’il sounded worried, and that only made Anthony more worried.
The elevator grated to a stop, and Anthony held his breath. Had they reached the bottom level, or had the motor failed?
“Flashlights,” she said.
He fumbled in his pockets and almost dropped it. His fingers searched over the smooth plastic case for the button. His thumb met rubber. He pressed it.
Blue light spilled into the elevator, and that tightness in his chest eased a fraction—just a fraction. Anthony shone his flashlight upon the faces of his companions. Nukha’il’s eyes reflected silvery white. Elise’s jaw and shoulders were tight, and all the color was sucked out of her shirt and hair, making her look ghost-like.
She shoved the door open. The elevator had jammed a few feet short of the bottom, and they had to jump to reach the ground. The metal rattled and squealed when Anthony dropped.
He had been in the upper level of the Warrens so often that it had become a familiar sight. The long, narrow shaft extended in either direction, suspended by ancient boards that creaked with the weight of the rock. It was silent aside from the occasional whir of the ventilation system that cooled the air and pumped out water.
If he went left, he knew he would eventually find himself in a structure like a honeycomb, which housed some of the territory’s uglier demons; if he went right, it would go down, down, down into the depths of what used to be the Night Hag’s domain.
Beyond that, deeper in the earth, awaited the gate. He had been having nightmares about it for months.
Elise headed right.
“Stay close.”
He followed her,
She said nothing.
Nukha’il opened the gate for the elevator, and they all piled in. It creaked to life as soon as he shut the door.
Anthony tilted back his face to watch the shaft stretching overhead. The music echoing from the club faded rapidly. The bass died first, and then the treble, until all he could hear was the occasional faint hiss of snare.
Then that, too, was gone, and all he heard was the occasional creak of the elevator’s chain.
It was discomfortingly similar to Anthony’s descent into the cave-in. Had the path to the Warrens always been so dark?
“What’s the plan?” he asked Elise, trying to distract himself from the claustrophobic walls of the elevator cage.
She cracked her knuckles. “We find out who’s gotten into the gate.”
“And?”
“And we make sure that they don’t come out again.”
“You mean, we’re going to kill them.” Anthony choked on the sentence. “But Nukha’il left alive. Doesn’t that mean that this man is harmless?”
Elise remained silent, but he could feel her judging him. Her stare all but screamed, You stupid boy . Of course someone who had navigated the Warrens to reach the gate wouldn’t be harmless, and they certainly wouldn’t be innocent. And of course she wouldn’t think twice about killing them. She wasn’t Anthony.
He shut his mouth and didn’t bother trying to talk again.
They descended in silence for a few more seconds. He tapped his toes, trying to focus on the bars of the elevator instead of what was waiting for them below.
The light dimmed and buzzed. Elise shot a look at Nukha’il. He had woven his own feathers through his hair, and they shimmered with internal light.
“It’s not me,” he said.
Anthony spun slowly, gazing at the rising walls beyond the cage of the elevator. Or at least, he tried to see the walls—it was suddenly dark beyond the bars, very dark, and he couldn’t see the smoothly hewn stone at all.
The bulb popped. Sparks rained down on them, washing over Elise’s hair with a shock of yellow.
And then there was no light at all.
Anthony reached out, searching for his girlfriend’s hand, and found her elbow. She shook him off. Metal rasped on leather as she drew her sword. “I thought you said the shadow hadn’t reached the gate,” Elise said.
“It hadn’t.” Nukha’il sounded worried, and that only made Anthony more worried.
The elevator grated to a stop, and Anthony held his breath. Had they reached the bottom level, or had the motor failed?
“Flashlights,” she said.
He fumbled in his pockets and almost dropped it. His fingers searched over the smooth plastic case for the button. His thumb met rubber. He pressed it.
Blue light spilled into the elevator, and that tightness in his chest eased a fraction—just a fraction. Anthony shone his flashlight upon the faces of his companions. Nukha’il’s eyes reflected silvery white. Elise’s jaw and shoulders were tight, and all the color was sucked out of her shirt and hair, making her look ghost-like.
She shoved the door open. The elevator had jammed a few feet short of the bottom, and they had to jump to reach the ground. The metal rattled and squealed when Anthony dropped.
He had been in the upper level of the Warrens so often that it had become a familiar sight. The long, narrow shaft extended in either direction, suspended by ancient boards that creaked with the weight of the rock. It was silent aside from the occasional whir of the ventilation system that cooled the air and pumped out water.
If he went left, he knew he would eventually find himself in a structure like a honeycomb, which housed some of the territory’s uglier demons; if he went right, it would go down, down, down into the depths of what used to be the Night Hag’s domain.
Beyond that, deeper in the earth, awaited the gate. He had been having nightmares about it for months.
Elise headed right.
“Stay close.”
He followed her,
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