Chapter 43 INTO THE MINES
CHAPTER 43: INTO THE MINES
Reyna shifts back to wolf form, her eyes glowing faintly as she sniffs the air. Luna stays human, one hand trailing along the rough stone wall.
Kieran pulls out a small flashlight. The beam cuts through the black but barely reaches ten feet ahead.
"Stay close," he says. "These tunnels branch everywhere."
We move single file. Reyna leads, then Luna, then me, with Kieran bringing up the rear. The temperature drops the deeper we go. My breath comes out in visible puffs.
The mine shaft splits into three directions.
Reyna pauses at the junction, nose working overtime. She shifts back, her expression grim.
"Blood trail goes left. But there's something else." She points right. "Old death. Weeks old maybe."
"We follow the fresh blood," Luna says.
"Wait." I step forward, closing my eyes. My time magic hums under my skin, reacting to something. "There's residual magic down the middle tunnel. Dark magic. Recent."
"So we have three options and no way to know which is right," Kieran mutters.
"The blood is freshest," Reyna insists. "That's our best bet."
We take the left tunnel.
The walls here are different. Carved with symbols that make my skin crawl. They're not random, they form patterns. Stories maybe.
"What are these?" I ask, running my fingers over one.
"Old pack markings," Luna says quietly. "From before the wars. These mines used to be sacred ground."
"Not anymore," Kieran says.
We keep walking. The tunnel narrows until we're moving sideways, shoulders scraping stone. My heart pounds in the confined space.
Then it opens up again into a wider chamber.
And I immediately wish it hadn't.
There are things here. Remnants of someone living in the dark.
A sleeping bag stained with god knows what. Cans of food scattered around a dead fire. And on the wall, scratched into the stone with something sharp, are words.
"Day forty seven. The voices are quieter now. Or maybe I'm just getting used to them."
"Day sixty three. Found another one today. She screamed for six hours before I made it stop."
"Day ninety. I can feel them coming. The twins. The ones mother told me about. Soon we'll be together. Soon we'll be whole."
My stomach turns.
"He's been here for months," Luna whispers, her voice shaking.
Reyna moves deeper into the chamber. She stops at something hanging from the ceiling.
Clothes. Small clothes. A child's jacket covered in dried blood.
"How many?" I ask even though I don't want to know.
"Based on the scent?" Reyna's voice is hollow. "At least twelve different people have died in this chamber alone."
Kieran's hand finds my shoulder. "We keep moving."
But I can't stop staring at the jacket. It's pink with a unicorn patch sewn on badly like someone's mother did it by hand.
"Thalira," Kieran says more firmly. "We have to go."
I force my feet to move.
The next tunnel slopes downward. My boots slip on loose rock. Kieran catches my elbow before I fall.
"Thanks," I mutter.
"Always."
Luna stops suddenly. Her head tilts like she's listening to something I can't hear.
"What is it?" Reyna asks.
"I don't know. Something feels wrong."
The words barely leave her mouth before the ground shakes.
Dust rains from the ceiling. Small rocks become bigger rocks. Then boulders.
"Run!" Kieran shouts.
We sprint forward as the tunnel behind us collapses. The sound is deafening. Stone crashes into stone, the impact vibrating through my bones.
We make it maybe fifty feet before the shaking stops.
I turn back. Where the tunnel used to be is now solid rock.
"No no no," Luna breathes, running to the collapse. She claws at the stones uselessly. "We're trapped."
"There has to be another way out," I say.
Reyna shifts back to human, her face pale. "There is. Forward. Toward wherever he wants us to go."
The silence that follows is suffocating.
"Then we go forward," Kieran says. "And we're ready for whatever he throws at us."
We continue deeper.
The twin bond that's been dormant most of my life suddenly flares to life. I can feel Luna beside me, not just physically but emotionally. Her fear crashes into mine, doubling the weight.
"Do you feel that?" I gasp.
"Your terror or mine?" Luna's laugh is shaky. "I can't tell the difference anymore."
"Is this what it's like with the boys?"
"Similar but different." I search for the right words. "They're pieces of my soul so feeling them is like feeling parts of myself. But you, you're separate. You're your own person and I can still feel everything."
"I hate it," she whispers. "How do you stand it?"
"You get used to it. Or you learn to build walls."
"Teach me."
"Later. When we're not about to die."
"If we're not about to die."
The tunnel widens again into another chamber. This one makes the last look tame.
Chains hang from the ceiling, some still stained with blood. A table in the center holds instruments I don't have names for, all of them designed to cause pain. The walls are covered in more carvings but these aren't words.
They're tally marks.
Hundreds of them.
Thousands maybe.
"Each mark is a cut," Reyna says, her voice dead. "This is where he worked on them before the final kill."
Luna makes a choking sound and runs to the corner to vomit.
I want to join her but I'm frozen, staring at something on the table.
A journal.
My hands shake as I open it.
The handwriting is neat, almost beautiful.
"Subject Seven. Female. Age sixteen. Took three days to break. Disappointing. I expected more fight from pack blood."
"Subject Eleven. Female. Age nineteen. Lasted six days. Better. The weapon is responding well to her essence."
"Subject Fifteen. Female. Age fourteen."
I slam the book shut.
But Kieran has already picked up something else. A stack of papers bound with twine.
He goes completely still as he looks through them.
"What is it?" I ask.
He doesn't answer. Just hands them to me.
They're drawings. Sketches done in charcoal or maybe dried blood.
The first is Luna as a child, maybe six years old, playing in a forest clearing.
The second is me at the academy, sitting in class, completely unaware I'm being watched.
The third is both of us sleeping.
There are dozens more. Our entire lives documented in horrifying detail.
"He's been watching us since we were kids," Luna whispers, looking over my shoulder.
"Not just watching," Reyna says, examining the dates written in corners. "Studying. Learning your patterns. Your habits. Your weaknesses."
The twin bond flares again and this time I feel Luna's rage mixing with her fear.
"I'm going to kill him," she says quietly. "I'm going to rip his throat out."
"Get in line," I mutter.
A sound echoes through the chamber. Distant but clear.
Screaming.
A girl screaming in absolute terror.
"That's her," Luna gasps. "That's Kira's daughter."
We run.
The tunnels blur together. Left, right, straight, down. We follow the sound until my lungs burn and my legs threaten to give out.
The screaming gets louder.
We burst into a massive chamber lit by torches mounted in the walls.
And there, in the center, strapped to a stone altar is—
Nothing.
The altar is empty.
The screaming continues.
Kieran spots it first. A small device tucked in a crevice in the wall. He smashes it and the screaming cuts off.
"Recording," he says flatly. "It's a damn recording."
"He knew we'd come," Reyna snarls. "He led us here on purpose."
The floor shifts under my feet.
Not shifts.
Drops.
The stone gives way and suddenly there's nothing but air.
I'm falling.
Luna's scream mixes with mine. I see Kieran reaching for me but his fingers brush mine without catching.
The darkness swallows me whole.
I hit something hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Not the ground but water. Freezing cold water that fills my nose and mouth.
I surface gasping.
Lights flicker on around me. Not torches this time but something electrical. Harsh and white and blinding.
When my eyes adjust I see where I am.
A massive underground lake. The water is black and smells like copper. And surrounding the lake are cages.
Dozens of cages.
And in every single one is a girl.
Some are conscious, staring at me with hollow eyes. Others are slumped over, I can't tell if they're breathing.
And standing on a platform above the water, watching me with a smile, is a man.
He's tall and lean with dark hair and those same red eyes from the vision. He's younger than I expected, maybe mid twenties, and heartbreakingly beautiful in a way that makes him more terrifying.
"Hello sister," Marvin says, his voice gentle. "I've Been waiting for you."
Behind him, strapped to a chair with her mouth gagged, is Kira's daughter.
She's alive.
But the knife Marvin presses against her throat says she won't be for long.
"Now," he continues, still smiling. "Let's play a game.”