Page 70 of Between Soul and Vessel
As we walked, I took in the world around us, marveling at the mountains. They stood like royalty—towering and majestic, wearing crowns of sparkling, craggy stone andcloaks made of rich, lush forests.
“It’s strange,” I started, thinking out loud. “The tents are familiar to me, but this place isn’t. It’s so beautiful, you’d think it would have ingrained itself in my memory.”
“That’s because you’ve probably never been here before,” she answered. “The clan was originally from the Centeria region, but we had to relocate here.”
“Why?” I asked curiously.
Artemesia took a breath before she replied. “The empress held up her end of the bargain. She left the clan untouched as her war raged around us. However, after it was finished, the realm became unsafe. The empress didn’t harm our clan, but she didn’t protect it either.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Mobs beget mobs, and when they learned the men and boys of our clan lived freely, well, you can imagine how well that went over.”
I could see the flames of history burning in my sister’s eyes, telling me where this part of the story was headed next.
She continued, “Two other clans, who were previously allied with ours, joined together and attacked us in the middle of the day. They burned our homes, slaughtered the women, and tried to take the men and boys. Those of us who survived were forced to run into the forest.” She paused for a moment, her eyebrows weaving together. “There, I saw a deer with a strange white marking on its neck, and it led us all the way here.” She gestured to the mountains. “That was many centuries ago. For all I know, the empress probably thinks our clan was wiped out during that time. I’ve done all I can to keep a low profile, hoping she’d think I returned to the soil longago.”
“If that’s the case, it’s probably a good thing she doesn’t know you are still alive,” I answered, thankful they had been able to escape.
“Agreed.” Her eyes flicked from side to side, scanning our surroundings before she whispered, “I need to show you something.”
We stepped inside a tent where the air smelled of tobacco.
Chests lined the perimeter of the tent, piled on top of one another, some of which were open, showing off the rich pelts inside. In the middle sat a table with large maps strewn about, their curling ends held down with weights. Sitting on the thick papers were small, carved animals that looked to be strategically placed—rabbits, deer, elk, and so on. Standing around the table were a few women and a couple men. An elderly woman rested her weary bones in a chair, a pipe in one weathered hand and a carved deer in the other. Their gazes swung up to meet ours.
“Chieftain,” the elderly woman said, and they all bowed their heads.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to pass through,” Artemesia replied.
“Of course,” said the woman standing near the end of the table, and they all began to move.
One of the men helped the elderly woman stand up. He handed her her cane, which she took as she sucked on her pipe.Smoke curled from her mouth as she relied on her cane to carry her over to a chest. She plopped down on it, an audible sigh leaving her lips.
The men picked up the table and moved it, careful not to knock too many of the pieces over. Next, the women crouched by the edge of the rug and began to roll it up. Underneath was a wood floor. The one waved her hand over top of it, and then—
Part of itopenedlike a trap door.
I peered into the vast hole in the ground, but I couldn’t see anything.
One of the women moved to stand in front of it, turning her palm face up, and a small ball of fire grew in it. She raised it to her mouth and blew. The fireball burst forth, shooting into the hole. It bounced from side to side, lighting sconce after sconce, until a path of never-ending stairs appeared.
“Come,” Artemesia directed before she began to walk down them. I followed after her.
I did not know how long we descended into the belly of the mountain, but when we reached the bottom, Artemesia looked to me and said, “Welcome to Veshameer, the Hidden City.”
Stretching before me was a vast network of streets, shops, and homes, all carved from stone. I eyed the shop sign closest to me, noting that it did not contain words, but rather a picture—a loaf of bread, a few swirls placed over top.
“There are many languages spoken here,” Artemesia stated, her attention fixed on the sign, “so shops usepictures instead.”
“That makes sense,” I replied. “How many people live here?”
“Thousands.”
“Is that why you need so much meat?” I inquired, although I was fairly confident I already knew the answer.
“It is. Unfortunately, animals do not fare well down here, and so the clan hunts all winter long to supply the city with meat. But we only supply a third of it. The rest is purchased with gemstones and diamonds mined from down here,” she answered.
Underneath the bakery sign, the wood-slat door opened, and a man and a little girl walked out. The smells of rising sourdough and cinnamon wafted toward me. I breathed them in. With his little one in tow, the man rushed over to Artemesia. “I do not have much, but it would be a great honor if you would accept this bread, savior.” He held up what I imagined was the bread wrapped in a creamy beige linen, offering it to my sister.
Artemesia placed her hand on the linen, gently pushing it back to him. “I am so honored that you would gift it to me, but you and your daughter need it more than I do. So please, keep it.”
“But you do so much for us,” the man replied, his voice wobbling with emotion. There was something about the way he looked at Artemesia that was familiar. It was the same way the people in the Cursed Lands had looked at me—with admiration so deep you could feel it in your bones.
