ChaoticArmcandy

  “Finding the...bodies?” I ventured, my eyes widening.

  Monarda nodded but didn’t eborate further, just set her jaw grimly and kept going. I hurried to keep up with the length of her stride as she led the winding, twisting way down the tunnel, deeper into the limestone bedrock beneath Harmine.

  All around us, the mind-numbingly complex patterns of strange eddies and ripples carved into the rock made the pale limestone seem to swell and pulse. I blinked at the walls. How old was this pce, really? Were these tunnels natural, or were they the product of some kind of sorcery? Now that I considered it, I couldn’t see any chisel-marks. And if I stared at them for too long in the dim glow of the alchemical mps, my eyes started pying tricks. I could swear that the walls seemed to be…flowing.

  I shivered and tore my gaze away. “So, what happened to them?”

  Monarda frowned over at me. “To who?”

  “The, uh, bodies.” I said, wincing at the quaver in my voice.

  Her look darkened. “Nothing like I’ve ever seen. Some of us pulled another one out of a blue hole only a few days ago. It looked to have just bobbed to the surface, the skin so thick with shiny silver scarring that it was past identifying. Mark me,” she muttered. “There’s some fell thing at work down here in the gloom where nobody goes. Something with an appetite.”

  I shuddered and edged a little closer to her. We passed an opening, a round hole in the slick, pale stone like an empty eye socket or a gaping mouth, leading away down another, identical tunnel. Then we passed another opening just like it, and another. I began to get the distinct impression that we were in a tangled warren of passageways, and that if I had been so foolish as to come down here alone, I would be quite lost by now. My guide however, showed no hesitation in sticking to the course we were on.

  I looked pensively over at the engineer girl loping next to me, a spontaneous pang of warmth rising in my breast. Whoever this girl was, she had chosen to have my back without hesitation in the face of danger. She looked back at me, her mouth twisting wryly and I blinked at the frank curiosity in her eyes. The grateful feeling in my ribcage stuttered.

  “Which,” Monarda added. “Makes it even more odd to find a maid down here, all alone and lost.” She threw me a measuring look. “Though how someone like you would be mixed up in all this, I haven’t a clue.”

  I stiffened. “What does that mean, someone like me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Had she clocked me?

  “Come on, look at you.” She gave a careless wave. “A slip of a girl. A blushing daisy. Let’s just say I can tell you’ve never been to prison, darlin’.”

  “I’m no blushing daisy,” I frowned at her. “And I told you, I’m not lost.”

  “Pouty and pretty and a little dumb,” Monarda smirked. “Well at least you’re no coward, Kisma, I’ll give you that.”

  I opened my mouth, gring, and then hesitated and closed it with a snap, my cheeks fring hotly. She chuckled and I bit my lip and looked away.

  Staring at the tunnel floor, fighting to control my blush, I realized with sudden relief that the floor of the tunnel had begun climbing upwards. Ahead, I saw the smooth, living rock walls turning to close-fitted stone.

  “Are we getting close?”

  “Should be.” Monarda raised an eyebrow. “Where in the Tower do you need to go, anyway? It’s not a small pce, you understand.”

  I hesitated. How much harm would it do to let slip one more piece of information? The worst of the damage was done—she’d seen me down here. If she sold that whisper to the wrong person, Aralia might catch wind of it, and put two and two together, but it was hard to see how telling her a little more would hurt. She’d been a reliable guide so far, and I didn’t have a clue where I was.

  Perhaps the risk was worth the reward.

  “The Arcane bs,” I muttered.

  “What?” Monarda stopped in her tracks and I almost ran into her. She whirled on me, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

  I pressed my mouth into a thin line, cursing inwardly. Had I just betrayed myself? Monarda’s dark eyes bored into me and I met them unflinchingly. For some reason, in that moment, I thought of Mi.

  “Kisma,” Mona said slowly. “Are you—”

  The sp of running boots, echoing from around the bend in the passage ahead of us. We both heard it at the same time and met each others eyes in arm.

  I gnced around wildly, then back at her. Whoever it was, they would be upon us in moments. She met my wide eyes with clear dark ones, and I was again fleetingly reminded of Mi before—

  She reached for my hand and I gave it to her.

  Monarda turned and yanked me along with her as began hurrying forward, towards the sound of approaching boots. Fates, she was strong. I tried not to tangle my feet.

  “Stay close,” she muttered under her breath, and I saw her other forearm drop and her wrist cock and the glint of the hilt as the knife slipped down her sleeve.

  I held my breath. The boots were almost upon us. It sounded like just one person.

  He came around the corner and for a split second I met his flinty eyes and saw them harden and narrow at me. I shrank further behind Monarda, trying to look anywhere else, and then we were past him, walking fast in the other direction.

  My heart was in my throat, pounding with arm. All my focus was bent on the sound of his retreating boots, listening for the moment when he turned and began to follow us, but it never came. With a start, I realized that my hand was clenched around Monarda’s in a vise-like grip and she was looking at me curiously, but neither of us slowed.

  Then we were spilling out of the tunnel, into a massive, low-ceilinged room of featureless fgstones and brick, rounded like the bottom of a shaft or an enormous well. It was bare except for the first dozen steps of a massive spiral staircase, climbing into and past the ceiling.

  The air on my face was dryer and warmer. Floating down from above, I could hear the dull shuffle of many footsteps, a distant, murmuring crowd. Behind us, the tunnel mouth loomed hungrily.

  I made for the staircase without hesitation, and lunged up it, Monarda keeping pace with me. Her hand squeezed mine, hard.

  “Kisma. Kisma!”

  I startled, and looked at her, panting.

  She slowed, gently pulling me to a stop. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  I gnced behind us, my heart still racing. “He recognized me,” I muttered.

  “That boy?” Her other hand moved slowly to rest on my back, as if she were soothing a frightened horse. “Breathe, girl.” Her dark eyes held me fast.

  I sucked a deeper lungful of air and slumped a little with relief as my shoulder untensed.

  “You knew him?”

  I nodded minutely. “Creswell. His name is Creswell.”

  Monarda was studying me, searching my face.

  “And how does he know you?” she asked quietly.

  My lips pressed tight, and I avoided her gaze. I wasn’t about to out myself by expining that we’d met in a boys dormitory, before I even looked like a girl. I held my tongue, hoping she would draw the most basic conclusion from my silence. It wouldn’t even be that far from the truth.

  After a moment I heard her sigh. “Right. Of course.”

  She spat a sudden curse in a nguage I didn’t recognize, and I flinched away.

  “Sorry.” She considered me, chewing her lip. “I can tell you’re freaked out. I’m not going to push you if you don’t want to tell me about it.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. I drew a shaky breath and looked pleadingly up the stairs. “Um, can we…keep going? I’m worried he’ll come back.”

  “He’d better not, if he wants to keep his damn eyes,” she muttered.

  “Monarda, please?”

  “Have it your way,” she shrugged. “Come on. I’ll take you a little further.”

  I swallowed hard. “Thank you,” I breathed as she turned away.

  She must have heard me, because she shot a wry gnce over her shoulder. My cheeks brightened.

  ~ ~ ~

  I tailed Monarda closely, throwing nervous looks back over my shoulder as she led the way, higher and higher. The broad staircase ascended past another nding and then another, each rounded stone room bnkly identical to the first, except that these boasted doors instead of a single gaping tunnel mouth. Above us, the dull roar of many footsteps and voices was getting louder.

  “Mostly storage down here,” expined my guide, gesturing around. “We’re still underground. Now keep a few steps back from me and walk with purpose, try to look like you’re on your own errand. Ground floor is next.”

  I obeyed, heart racing.

  She gnced back, and gave me a slight nod. “Good enough. I’ll take you as far as the seventh level—that’s where the Arcane bs begin, and then I’ve got to be getting back.”

  We climbed around the curve and into the overwhelming bustle and noise of the Arcane Tower.

  I stared around in awe at the massive circur forum. Students streamed in and out through four main archways, converging into a yammering crowd around the staircase. Ahead, the steps broadened to accommodate the flow, but it was still nearly jam-packed. I noticed a few staff, including one or two maids, but most of the press was composed of loud, hard-eyed boys.

  Monarda dove forward and I struggled to keep up with her in the jostling sea of people, my eyes stubbornly set on the greasy canvas of her engineer coveralls. The crowd started to thin after a few ndings, and by the time we passed the sixth level, it was only a trickle. I breathed a sigh of relief when she stopped and turned to wait before the next nding.

  I slowed as I reached her and Monarda gave me a discrete nod. “Good luck,” she murmured as I passed.

  “Thanks,” I muttered back, feeling a pang of regret at this coarse, quick parting.

  Now that she was leaving me, I kind of wished she wouldn’t. Still, I resisted the urge to linger or look over my shoulder, instead stepping off at the next nding and gncing quickly around at the various doors. First things first: I needed to find a cleaning staff supply closet.

  Shortly thereafter, I was cruising around the Tower’s seventh level, pushing a wheeled mop bucket and gncing into each window. Passersby paid me little attention and I felt a small, short-lived burst of confidence in the success of my camoufge. Unfortunately, this was where my pn sort of…ended. I began to hurry a little faster, looking around, hoping some clue would jump out at me.

  I glimpsed a few csses in session, but most of the rooms seemed to be empty except for a plethora of chalkboards and cubicles. The yout was mazelike, but eventually I found myself following a long, curving corridor that seemed to go all the way around the rim of the Tower, lined with offices. I kept peeking into windows, feeling myself beginning to fret.

  There was still no sign of Aralia. I chewed my lip worriedly. How was I actually supposed to find her, in all this? Should I just give up and go back to wait for her? As the question hung heavy in my mind, I saw a door open ahead of me, almost out of sight around the arc of the corridor. A figure strode out, and I froze as arm ripped through me.