Hours were lost to the darkness of the Underground. She’d originally tried to keep up with her timepiece, but quickly abandoned the idea. They pushed every hour they were awake at her behest, moving as fast and as far as they could beneath Ter.4 before exhaustion took over.
Cvareh and she alternated watches. They needed less sleep. Having magic in the blood that constantly healed their bodies and kept them in shape increased their ease of survival tenfold. It also made the fading conditions of the Fenthri in their party all the more obvious. Living creatures weren’t meant to make these halls home for extended periods of time. The strange sleeping schedule and hours upon hours of darkness took a toll on the body as much as the mind. Laughter faded from the group first, talking second, and soon the only sound that filled the air was the screeching of brakes and the clacking of metal wheels on veca after veca of track.
They were four days into their journey and somewhere around Holx, according to Helen, when the last of their rations ran out. The empty bag stared back at Arianna, more vacant than every tunnel she had faced during the hours of their travel. They weren’t going to make it to Ter.4.3 without additional supplies.
“What are you going to do?” Cvareh watched her thoughtfully as she retreated away from the last of the diminished supply bags. The other two mostly empty sacks were in the cart with the sleeping trio.
“I don’t know yet.” Her mind had yet to work out the best solution. It was strange to admit it, however.
She never confessed to Florence when she needed time to work through a plan, or operated with less than one hundred percent certainty. The girl was someone Arianna wanted to look after, care for—someone whose well being Arianna wanted to ensure into eternity. And, while Arianna could see the woman she had become in the past two years, part of her still clung to the idea of protecting the shaking, scared little crow who had run lost through the streets of Ter.4.2.
“They’re not going to last long.”
“No, they won’t, not at this pace anyway.”
“Is there something down here you could hunt?” He was making an effort, she’d grant him that much. But the effort was ill placed; he just didn’t know enough about Loom.
“Not down here.” Rather than taking the easy insult, Ari explained: “The softest things are glovis grubs. But they feed off rocks, so they’re filled with corrosive acids. The people who do eat them… don’t last long.”
But those people didn’t die. The chemicals in the glovis ate away at their bodies and corroded their minds until what was once Fenthri became something between man and monster. The Wretched were worse than forsaken Chimera. At least the forsaken had a timer on their lives. If the Fenthri body managed to adapt to consuming the glovis’ flesh, they could survive indefinitely, haunting the tunnels.
“Up then?” he reasoned.
“I seem to have no other choice.” She adjusted the strapping on her harness. As much as she didn’t mind wearing it, she was ready for a reprieve that would let her take it off.
“When are we going?”
She laughed with a shake of her head. “There is no we on this trip. Alone I can navigate whatever streets or plains wait above us effortlessly. If I’m looking out for everyone, it’ll slow me down.”
“I can look out for myself, and you know I’ll help look after them,” he insisted defensively.
“I know,” she confessed. A similar sensation to the one she’d felt a few days ago washed over her, and Arianna assessed the Dragon in the darkness. Without light, he looked the same as any Fenthri would—save for the black slits of his eyes and his physical size. Perhaps that was why she was beginning to feel easier around the man. But that didn’t quite make sense, as Arianna didn’t find relief, but rather a small disappointment, in not being able to see the colors she knew him to be. “And I will trust you to do it.”
“What?”
“I’m going alone. I’ll only be gone an hour, and I’m certain they’ll sleep the entire time and then some … But I’m trusting you to look after them.” The words still made her uneasy because it meant that she really was daring to put her faith in another Dragon. But they came more smoothly than she expected.
“Be careful, Ari. First you trust me, then you may actually like me.” He leaned against the wall with a smug grin.
Her emotions ran wild. Arianna tried to get them back under control but didn’t know where to begin. Correcting him on his use of Flor’s shortened name? The ease by which he assumed her trust? The implication that she might actually enjoy him and his company?
Or perhaps it was the fact that, yet again, he reminded her of a woman who was long dead.