Unlit (Kingdoms of Earth & Air #1)

The downward incline continued, gradually getting steeper. I had no sense of time or distance in this place. There was nothing to judge such things by—no sound, no light, no life.

Then the wind slapped against me, forcing me to stop. My breath caught in my throat as I listened for whatever danger might lay ahead. After a moment, I heard it—a footstep. One that was little more than a whisper, and spoke of bare feet against rock.

My fingers tensed against the gut buster, even though I knew firing it was the last thing I needed to do in this place.

Another footstep echoed, one that was oddly different to the first—it was heavier, and accompanied by an odd, scraping sound. Tension ran through me, but I resisted the urge to move, to retreat back up the tunnel. If I could hear them, they’d undoubtedly hear me.

A soft glow began to infuse the darkness, one that reminded me of the light generated by the glimmer stone in the main cave. As it got stronger, the veins in my tunnel began to glow, providing a halo of cool brightness that thankfully didn’t reach up to where I stood.

But it gave me some sense of where I now was. This tunnel ended at a T-intersection roughly fifty feet away. The intersecting tunnel was double the width of this one and, if the pathway worn into the floor’s rock surface was anything to go by, saw a whole lot more traffic.

The glow of light coming from the glimmer stone seams got stronger, the footsteps closer. While the wind gave no hint as to what might be coming, she shifted direction, drawing fresh air around me and then sweeping it back up the tunnel. Taking my scent away from whatever approached rather than toward it, I realized.

Shadows appeared and began to solidify. One small, one large.

One human in form, the other the stuff of nightmares.

My gut churned with renewed vigor.

Because the figure holding the tiny light that was causing the glimmer stone to glow so brightly was a small, stained child. One with short-cropped brown hair, a face that was thin, hollow, and grubby, and a body that only held small patches of brown skin in amongst the staining. Small rivulets of moisture ran down his emaciated torso, but did little to erase the dirt caking his flesh, and he was all but dragging his feet.

The other was an Irkallan.

Though the child continued, the Irkallan paused in the middle of the T-intersection; its antennae moved back and forth as its dark, oval-shaped eyes stared right at me. After a moment, it made an odd clicking noise, its mandibles opening and shutting as if in vexation.

I didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe.

With another click, it moved on, and as the light began to fade, I slumped against the tunnel wall and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm my racing pulse.

Damn, that was close.

I grabbed the flask from the pack and took a long drink to ease the burning in my throat. Once it was stoppered and placed back, I cautiously moved forward. At the intersection I stopped again, looking carefully to the right to ensure there were no other Irkallan or children approaching, and then glanced left.

The soft light was slowly fading as the Irkallan and the child moved around the tunnel’s gentle curve to the right.

Follow the child, the wind said. He will lead you to the rest.

Which was precisely what I’d intended, and what I’d hoped.

I stepped out into the larger tunnel and padded after the two of them as quietly as I could. But my footsteps were far louder than either the Irkallan’s or the child’s, and would eventually reveal my presence. Though this tunnel didn’t appear to be guarded, it was certainly well used given the worn pathway. Just because there wasn’t much in the way of traffic right now didn’t mean there soon wouldn’t be.

I stopped again to take off my boots and socks, tucking the latter inside the former before tying them onto my pack. The smooth stone was surprisingly cool under my feet given the heat in the air, but at least without footwear any Irkallan who were near might initially think my footfalls were nothing more than another child being escorted somewhere. At least until they actually saw me.

I continued to chase the soft glow that was the only indicator of the child and the Irkallan. Their footsteps were no longer audible, suggesting it was the wind that’d driven the sound to me in the first place.

The tunnel continued to curve around, and then began to descend deeper into the mountain. Though the wind still provided me with fresh air, I was nevertheless aware that the urine and blue-cheese stench was growing stronger, suggesting I was drawing closer to the main part of the apiary. Luck had been with me so far, but how much longer would that last?

As if in answer to that question, the pale glow ahead went out. As I stopped, my gaze searching the darkness, I became aware of the footsteps. They weren’t just coming from up ahead, but also from behind.

I swore and looked around, but the tunnel’s sheer walls offered nothing in the way of cover.

Run, the wind suggested.

Unhelpful, I replied, but nevertheless did just that, switching out my gun for my knife as I pelted around the corner—only to spot an Irkallan standing twenty feet away. He rose up to his full height, his mandibles clashing as he began to emit a shrill sound. I threw the knife and, as the glittering blade spun through the air, reached back for the sword.

The Irkallan sidestepped the knife, as I knew it would, but by then I was close enough to swing the sword. There was no finesse or skill behind the blow; there couldn’t be, given I wasn’t sword trained and had no time for anything approaching finesse anyway. All I wanted to do was stop him from alerting any of his hive mates to my presence. The glowing blade hit his left side, right at the point where his thorax joined his abdomen, and sliced the pieces of his body apart. His exoskeleton might have been no harder than butter for the ease with which the sword went through it.

As the two pieces of his body fell in different directions and his shrieking stopped, I heard the scrape of nails against stone and swung around. Another Irkallan was in the air, its razor-sharp fingernails lengthening as it arrowed toward me. I threw myself sideways and down, grunting as I hit the stone hard, but twisted around and thrust the sword upward. The Irkallan curled its body around itself, protecting its head and limbs, and presenting only its hard outer shell to the blade. It made no difference—the sword cut his spine open and the Irkallan’s innards rained down upon me. I cursed softly, swiping at the gore covering my face as I thrust to my feet. The Irkallan might be cut open from neck to tailbone, but it wasn’t finished yet. It was using its claws to drag itself up the wall, attempting to rise, even as its broken body continued to ooze black fluids and freedom only knew what else.

I strode toward it, blade held out in front of me like a lance. The Irkallan gave up its attempts to rise, and ran—not toward me but away, using its claws to drag itself along the smooth stone with surprising speed, and emitting a high-pitched sound as it did so.

I charged after him. The Irkallan twisted around as I neared and somehow jacked upright. I raised the sword and brought it down hard, but he twisted away from the blow. The blade’s sharp tip embedded itself into the floor with enough force to send a shockwave up my arms; sparks skittered through the darkness.

Keri Arthur's books