“Go back to the vault?” Ara asked, raising her lantern to inspect Nona’s face. “That’s madness. Abbess Glass will throw us out. You know what she said about the undercaves!”
“I have to.” Nona had to see it for herself. She had to set her hands to the spot where Hessa had died. Perhaps some clue remained that would help her find Yisht. “I have to. For Hessa. I felt her die. The rocks. Yisht’s knife. I felt all of it. If there’s justice to be had, or revenge, it starts there, where it happened.”
“I don’t want to go near the convent. The sinkhole’s too close.” Ketti got to her feet behind them after finishing the climb. “There could be tunnel-floods.” She shuddered.
“I still say they’ll have the undercaves blocked off.” Darla followed Ketti into the chamber, brushing grit from her habit.
“Maybe. But it’s as good a direction to explore as any other,” Ara said. Nona thanked her silently.
“I don’t know . . .” Darla shook her head. “The abbess wasn’t joking when she put the undercaves off-limits. She wrote it in the book and everything . . .”
“That was over two years ago.” Ara came to Nona’s defence. “Plus, if they didn’t know Yisht was there for all those weeks and she was going to and fro from her room, they won’t know we’re there if we come from underneath for a quick look. Right, Nona?”
Nona nodded. She owed it to Hessa. She had let years slide by and done nothing to avenge her. Her friend had died and Nona had hidden in the convent, well fed, cared for, whilst Yisht walked the world with Hessa’s blood on her hands. But though the Corridor might be a narrow girdle to the globe it was still too wide for a lone child to find a woman like that who didn’t want to be found. And Yisht was an ice-triber. She might be anywhere in the vastness of the ice. “I can’t do this alone.” The gate to Shade class had a sigil-scribed lock now: the thing would have to be blown off its hinges to gain access without the key. Coming at the Dome of the Ancestor and the shipheart chamber from below was the best option.
“I’ll help.” Jula spoke up, her voice thin in the cavern’s void.
Nona offered her a smile. Jula put an arm around her shoulders for the briefest hug.
“So . . .” Nona, even less at ease with physical affection than Jula, waved a hand at the tunnel mouths.
“That one.” Jula pointed to the leftmost tunnel, boulder-choked and leading down. She had an instinct for direction below ground that had proved uncanny. “Though it doesn’t look very safe.”
Ara led on and they followed, stepping over fallen rock, some of it still jagged. After a hundred yards or so the passage broadened and became a cavern so wide it swallowed their light and gave nothing back. For a moment Ara halted and they all held quiet listening to the silence and to the drip . . . drip . . . drip of water that was somehow part of the vastness of the silence. Nona glanced about at the novices around her, all illuminated on one side and dark on the other, and for an instant found herself outside her body, suddenly aware of herself as a tiny mote of life, warmth, and light in the black and endless convolutions of the cave system. Now more than ever she felt the irony that the Rock of Faith, named for the foundations of their religion, lay rotten with voids and secret ways, permeable and ever-changing.
“We should go across,” Jula said, her voice small in all that empty space. She didn’t sound as if she wanted to.
Ketti marked the wall with her chalk and drew an arrow on the floor.
“We should follow the wall. We’re less likely to get lost,” Darla said.
Ara took them to the left, staying close to the wall. Stalagmites rose in small delicate forests, stalactites descended in curtains where the cave curved down, glistening with an iridescent sheen like the carapace of a beetle.
“Stop.” Ruli turned and stared into the darkness beyond the lanterns’ reach. Nona stopped, the others too.
“What?” Jula raised her light.
“Didn’t you hear it?”
“No.” Darla loomed beside her, her shadow swinging.
“Something’s out there, coming for us,” Ruli said, wide-eyed.
“There’s nothing living in these caves,” Darla said. “We would have seen bones or dung. What did it sound like?”
“Dry.” Ruli shivered.
“Dry?”
“I want to go back,” Ruli said.
Ara advanced a few yards, lantern high. “There’s something here.”
Nona crowded forward with the others, leaving Ruli in deepening shadow.
“What is it?” Ketti frowned.
To Nona’s eye it seemed that a shadowy forest of misshapen stalagmites covered the cavern floor, some curving over in ways that such growths are not supposed to.
“Bones.” Jula saw it first.
From one instant to the next the scene switched from one of confusion to one of horror. Skeletons, calcified like those back in the niche, but more thickly: dozens of them.
“Some of these have been here for an age.” Ara pointed to a stony ribcage from which straw-thin stalactites dripped, and to a skull distorted by the weight of stalagmite growing upon it, like a candle from which half the wax had run.
Jula bent over to inspect something by the wall.
“We really need to go!” Ruli called at them, not having moved from where she stood. “Can’t you feel it?”
“I don’t . . .” But then Nona felt it and held her tongue. Something scraping at the edges of her senses, a dry touch from which her mind recoiled.
Holothour.
What?
Nona felt Keot moving beneath the skin of her back. Normally he was silent in the caves.
You should run.
You always tell me to fight.
Now I’m telling you to run.
“We should go back. Now!” Nona turned to follow Ruli who had already started to run back the way they came, into the blind darkness.
“What’re you scared of?” Darla called after them. “There’s nothing here.” She laughed.
