Page 55 of The Eyes of Tamburah
She changed quickly. The pant legs were too long so she rolled them up at her waist. And the tunic hung down to her knees and past her hands. She pushed the sleeves up.
“Done,” she said.
When Jayden turned around a brief smile flashed.
“What?” she asked.
“You look more like a vagrant now.”
“Oh.” Was that a compliment? She smoothed out her wrap. Sludge stained the ends. Ugh.
“No, wait.” He searched another pile and tossed her a clean shawl. “Now you’re ready.” He strode from the room.
It didn’t take long to reach the stairwell on level seventy-eight. Although she had to admit, she’d probably wouldn’t have found it on her own.
“I’m sorry about your people.”
“Me, too.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“Stay safe, Sun-kissed.”
She opened her mouth, but he was gone.
* * *
The stairwell twisted around and around and around in tight circles. Just like Shyla’s thoughts. Why did Jayden call her sun-kissed after using her name all those times? He’d used it the first time they’d met, maybe he wanted to end with it as well. She doubted she’d see him again.
She passed a couple doors and wondered where they led to—she’d lost track of the levels. A number of times Shyla needed to stop her descent and press her hands to the cool moist walls to control the dizziness that threatened to topple her. Only a meter and a half wide, the stairwell’s narrow steps were far apart as they corkscrewed into the blackness below the druk’s indigo light.
But after one turn, the blackness didn’t recede. Shyla caught her balance just before she stepped into the gap. When her breath steadied, she crouched and shone the light down. It appeared that an entire level’s worth of steps were missing. Much more than she’d envisioned when Jayden had mentioned it.
Now what? The stone center post remained intact. Perhaps she could slide down it. Or dangle by her hands and drop down. Would the sound of her hitting the next step alert the guards? Maybe. She inspected the post. Notches and grooves from where the steps had been remained. Enough for her to use to climb down. Yes, something going right for a change. Shyla tied the lantern to her pack’s straps and wrapped her shawl around it to protect the druk. Then she lowered it as far as she could before letting go. It hit with a muffled thud.
Her turn. She faced toward the steps then slid the toe of her left boot along the post until it snagged on a groove. Leaning her weight on her leg, she moved her hands from the step to the post, hugging it before finding a hold for her right foot. Then she slowly moved each foot lower while sliding her arms until she reached the bottom. Where she promptly sat down and sucked in the damp air. Her legs shook from the effort and sweat slicked her skin.
When she recovered, she shouldered her pack and continued the journey. There were a few more gaps in the stairwell, but all could be bridged easily. She avoided thinking about the return trip. Best to focus on the present.
At the bottom of the stairwell, the lantern shone with a violet hue. She followed Jayden’s instructions. The walls dripped with water and a heavy mineral scent flowed on a strong wind that pushed against her back. This had to be a part of the ventilation system. Puddles of water pooled on the ground. She shone the light closer and scooped up a handful, but the liquid wasn’t black. Trying not to make any noise, she slowed, careful to avoid splashing or scuffing her boots on the stone. The air would carry the sound rather far.
After a few angles the darkness ahead lightened. When she reached the next intersection, she glanced to the right. In the distance, bright shafts of yellow trol-lantern light streamed down. Her heart jumped in response. Jayden claimed the black river flowed under those beams. Finally!
As she neared the light, harsh voices echoed. Remembering Jayden’s warning, she closed the druk and crept onward. Then a sharp crack and a scream cut right through her. She froze. Was she under the prison level? No, that level was dark and stunk of offal and urine. This must be something else.
It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the black water. She kept moving until she reached the end of the tunnel, which stopped at a T-intersection. The air flowed in the opposite direction in the new tunnel and it now carried a rancid metallic odor as if raw meat had spoiled. A couple of beams of trol light sliced the blackness from above, then there was darkness followed by another cluster of beams. This pattern extended along the new tunnel both to the left and right.
But what caught her complete attention was the light reflecting off a black river. Well, at a dozen centimeters wide, it was more of a rivulet. The liquid flowed through the tunnel just like Jayden had said.
With her heart jumping in her chest, she fumbled for the vial. It had fallen to the very bottom of her pack. She twisted the cap off. Her fingers shook as she dipped the glass into the slow current. The thick water oozed into the container. Once filled, she sealed it tight. The black water stuck to her hand. She sniffed it and jerked her fingers away at the repulsive smell. It was the source of that rancid scent. Much stronger because the wind hadn’t diluted it. And she’d just shoved it right under her nose. Not the smartest move. She wiped her hand on her pants.
Curious about what was above the tunnel, she crept over to the edge of one of the beams of light. She peered up through a metal grate and wished she hadn’t.
A dead woman hung upside down. She was naked and every centimeter of her skin was covered with cuts. Shyla pressed her hand against her mouth. Throwing up would be too noisy. Swallowing the bile, Shyla retreated. But she stopped when voices echoed.
Unable to resist, she continued, tracking the sounds. She passed underneath room after room—all quiet so she didn’t dare look up. The tunnel seemed to go on forever. The voices grew louder.
“…I don’t…please…I…don’t…know…”
