CHAPTER 25
DAYLIGHT WAS FADING fast by the time Ninurta’s walls came into view. Mason stopped us behind an outcropping to wait until complete darkness before we approached. Seeing the wall twisted my insides into anxious knots. I had thought, maybe, coming back would feel like coming home, if for no other reason than because Reev was there. But instead, all that greeted me was a prison.
A few gargoyles had spotted us along the way, but they had merely glanced in our direction before carrying on. Was Ninu aware of how intelligent the creatures he’d released into the Outlands were? Even without hollows, Irra could build a formidable army out of the gargoyles. Maybe there weren’t enough of them to do that.
We shut off our Grays, and Mason dismounted. He consulted a map that he drew from beneath the knife sheath strapped around his thigh. Hina went about replacing the energy stones on both the Grays.
“Since you won’t need it once you get into the tunnels,” Hina said, peering into our Gray’s chest, “you’ll have to leave this one out here. Mason will ride it to Etu Gahl when he returns.”
“You’re not coming with us?” I asked her.
“I only came this far to make sure the gargoyles didn’t get bold. They leave hollows alone, but you two probably wouldn’t scare them. Mason will guide you the rest of the way.”
After she finished replacing our energy stone, she switched it back on so we’d have the light to see by. The Gray provided the only light source aside from the distant glow of torches along Ninurta’s walls.
Before leaving, she pulled me into a hug. I found myself hugging back. We hadn’t spent much time together outside of meals and sparring, but aside from Avan, she and Mason were the closest thing I’d had to friends in a long time.
“Thanks,” I said, “for your protection. And for making the Void feel . . . not so lonely.”
She playfully punched my shoulder. “Stop trying to tell me good-bye. I’ll see you when this is over.”
I smiled gratefully. “Yeah.”
With a final wave, she jumped onto the other Gray and rode off. Her red light faded into the darkness.
Mason, who hadn’t bothered saying good-bye to Hina, studied the map, turning his head left and right as he oriented himself.
Avan sat nearby, eating a handful of dried fruit, as I watched over Mason’s shoulder. Unlike the prostitute’s map, Mason’s was in good condition, but it didn’t show much beyond the familiar boundaries of Ninurta. Mason pointed to a spot on the map outside the walls, above a series of zigzagging lines. “This is where we’ll enter.”
“The sewers.” So that’s what Hina had meant by “tunnels.” Neither Mason nor Irra had given us details about how they planned to get us into the city. “But they’re patrolled. And there are locked gates,” I added.
“I’ve arranged for someone to meet us inside to unlock the gates,” Mason said. “And our source was able to supply the patrol route. I memorized it.”
“It still sounds risky.”
“I know.” He grinned. “Most excitement I’ve had in two months. Ninu’s reconnaissance teams have pulled back and left us with nothing to do.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
He looked at the map. “We’ll go the rest of the way by foot. It’s not far.”
We grabbed our bags and switched off the Gray, leaving it in the dark. I hoped Mason would be able to find his way back here.
Strong fingers grasped my hand. Warmth shot up my arm and through my chest. But instead of Avan’s voice, Mason’s said, “To keep you from wandering off.”
Flustered, I didn’t say anything as I reached out and felt for Avan’s hand as well. I touched his stomach first, then he took my hand in his, squeezing lightly.
“Can you see?” Avan asked Mason. The darkness felt less oppressive with the two of them on either side of me, but it was still pitch-black.
“Yes,” Mason said without further explanation. Maybe the collar improved his night vision.
We walked for about ten minutes. Even after my eyes adjusted to the dark, it was unnerving being able to see only a few feet of dirt and black shapes. It didn’t help that the only sound was our footsteps—mine and Avan’s, because Mason had the eerie ability to move without sound. Mason pressed my hand when we reached another outcropping, and we stopped.
Mason released me and knelt in the dry earth. I heard a click. He grabbed something and yanked roughly. Dirt cracked and skidded off the lid of a manhole cover as he raised it from the ground. It sounded like a rockslide in the silence. I looked around uneasily. What if the sound attracted gargoyles?
Avan and I knelt around the opening as Mason descended into the sewer. All I could see was the uppermost rung of a disintegrating metal ladder. A moment later, Mason called for us to follow him down.
With a glance at Avan, I went first.
Rust along the ladder’s rungs dug into my palms. I couldn’t see where to put my hands and feet. When my foot finally hit solid ground, I eased off the ladder, brushing my hands against my pants, and retreated a few steps to allow Avan room. Light burst through the darkness. I shielded my eyes. Had we been caught already?
But it was just Mason. The light was coming from his arm, bright enough to illuminate the tunnel. I shuffled forward, blinking.
“What is that?” I asked, looking at his arm brace. It was made of metal, darkened to a dull finish that wouldn’t reflect the light. A few buttons lined the seam alongside some roughly cut details.
“I’m not sure. It’s Irra’s creation.” Mason aimed the light into the space in front of us. “Better than a lantern.”
The light revealed a walkway that ran along the side of the tunnel. The sewage pit in the middle had long since dried up. Didn’t smell that way, though. I wrinkled my nose.
Two passages branched ahead; the left side had collapsed, blocked by crumbled stone and distorted metal.
Avan dropped down beside me, and Mason gestured for us to follow with a twitch of his head.
“We’re still a ways from the wall, but Ninu keeps the sewers patrolled for a couple of miles out,” Mason said. “They’ll have passed by this area already. We should be safe. I don’t think the gargoyles have found their way down here yet.”
“You don’t think?” I asked.
I could hear his grin as he said, “I’ve learned not to underestimate them.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered.
“There are a lot of unused sewer passages in Ninurta,” Mason continued. “Most of them are left from before Rebirth. They still patrol the unused ones as well, but most are caved in. That’s why we can’t use them to sneak an army inside. Too unstable.”
“This just gets better and better,” I said. How pathetic would it be if I died in the sewer before I ever got to Reev?
Mason chuckled. “Step lightly.”
I tried to do as he said.
We walked along, every sound making the fine hairs on the backs of my arms stand on end. At least in the Outlands, we were in the open. Here, aged stone surrounded us on all sides, reinforced only by metal liable to collapse at any time. After a while, Mason’s light fell on a gate and an ancient-looking padlock on the other side. Mason tapped the metal gate three times and then switched off his light.
We waited in the dark for several long minutes until clumsy footsteps approached on the other side. Someone responded with three knocks. Then I heard shuffling feet, a mumbled curse, and a screech of metal as the lock turned. Mason switched his light back on. DJ was peering at us through the open gate.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. DJ had said he was the Rider’s gatekeeper.
DJ looked us over. “You two still human?”
“Define ‘human,’” Avan said.
DJ rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t expecting to see you again. How the drek did you get to the Rider and back in one piece?”
He stepped aside so that we could pass through. Then he pulled the gate shut and locked it behind us.
“You were wrong,” Avan said as we followed DJ through more tunnels. The smell grew damper, moldier, and more bitter. “You said the Rider kidnapped people and turned them into hollows against their will.”
“Hey,” DJ said, his voice uncomfortably loud. “I tell you what I’m told to say, and it still got you there all right. Anyway, Mr. Hollow over there isn’t proving me wrong.”
Mason smiled—not his usual smile but a fake, vacant version. “Lead us forward,” he said in a monotone.
When DJ turned away with a shudder, Mason’s smile cracked into a real one, and he winked at me. I almost laughed.
According to Mason’s map, we stood directly under the Labyrinth—which explained the familiar smell—following an outside route to the White Court. The tunnels here were in worse shape than the Labyrinth above. We wedged through caved-in passages, making our way around the active sewage pipes, and had to travel in the dark for stretches when we drew too close to a patrolling Watchman. A few times, the entire passage quaked as a heavy Gray passed overhead, and we flattened ourselves against the wall to avoid any loose debris. I wasn’t claustrophobic, but I had begun to change my mind about this by the time we reached another locked gate.
“This one leads into the White Court. I don’t know what business you two got in there, but good luck. You’ll need it here even more than in the Outlands.” DJ jabbed his thumb in Mason’s direction as he turned away. “He’ll take you in.”
This would be the farthest I’d ever been inside the White Court. Somewhere up there is Reev.
The sewers here were noticeably different. The dampness and the odors remained, but the tunnels were sturdier. They must have been reinforced sometime in the last century.
We walked for another ten minutes before Mason abruptly killed the light. His hand gripped my shoulder and pushed me up against the wall. I heard Avan hit the stone beside me. Mason leaned in, pinning us both with a whispered “Quiet.”
I remained still, Mason’s body like a furnace compared to the damp sewage air. My ears strained for whatever he had heard. There was nothing but the sound of dripping water.
Then I heard it. Footsteps, along with the hum of voices echoing off the tunnel walls. The footsteps sounded hurried. The glow of a lantern wavered through the metal grate of another tunnel to the left of us.
“Keep looking,” a voice said.
Mason eased back, and I could practically feel the energy rising off him.
“Listen,” he whispered. “Your exit is down that tunnel and to the right. There will be a ladder like the one we came down and a symbol beneath the manhole cover that looks like one of the marks on my collar. That’ll open up to an alley behind Zora Hall, the Tournament dormitories. Go in through the back.” He sniffed at me. “And try to clean yourselves off.”
He began moving away. I grasped his wrist as more footsteps reverberated through the tunnel, closer now.
“What about you?” I asked, feeling Avan’s hand on my arm.
“We must have tripped an alarm somewhere,” Mason said. “I don’t know how I missed it, but it doesn’t matter now. I’ll lead them away. You two get to Zora Hall.”
“But, Mason—”
“Unless you hurry, I won’t have enough time to get them chasing each other in circles.” He sounded excited to have been caught. I wanted to smack him for enjoying the danger.
“Don’t do anything reckless,” I said, releasing his wrist.
I couldn’t make out his face in the dark, but I imagined he was smiling. “Remember what I told you. End your matches as quickly as possible. Try not to let your opponent knock you off your feet. And remember, when you find Reev—”
“Go back to the manhole at noon. Flip the cover. Meet there twenty-four hours later,” I finished for him. He grunted his approval.
I felt Avan brush past me as he reached over to Mason. “Be careful getting out.”
“Take care of each other,” Mason said quietly. Silence followed for a beat too long. Were he and Avan having a staring contest in the dark?
Finally, Mason’s fingers found my cheek, and he leaned in so that his words were only a breath against my ear.
“I’ll be waiting for you in Etu Gahl when this is over.”
I touched his shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”