Amaranthe could only stare. In the back of her mind, she calculated that, based on the height of that window-ceiling above the crater and the length of the vent they’d crawled down, there had to be thirty or forty feet of rock above them. She hadn’t been thinking of the roof when she’d blocked the tunnel-there hadn’t been time for that.
“Dear ancestors,” Books whispered. He’d noticed the drip and the crack too.
Everyone had noticed, and everyone was staring at the ceiling in as dumbfounded a manner as Amaranthe. More beads were forming and dripping now. No escape, her mind whispered. After all they’d survived, after all her crazy schemes, this was going to be the one that killed them all.
“Get in the vehicles,” Amaranthe said. It was stupid advice. As if the metal roof of some steam wagon could protect them from thousands of tons of rock caving in on their heads.
“In or under?” Maldynado asked.
“It’s not going to matter,” Books said, but, like everyone else, he ran to jump into one of the cabs.
Another crack sounded in the earth above them. The drips turned to a steady stream pouring onto the stone floor.
“Maybe the cave-in will take out our enemies too,” Yara said.
She, Amaranthe, Sespian, and Basilard had climbed into one lorry while the others had leaped into the second. Nobody responded to her comment. It wasn’t much of a consolation. Even if they buried Forge with them, they’d be taking out Sespian too. Who’d be left to spearhead the next iteration of the empire? Some backstabbing relative of Maldynado’s? Amaranthe shook her head. What had she done?
“My shoulder feels like it’s been dipped in acid,” Akstyr growled. At least he’d revived enough to stand. Not that it’d matter in a moment.
“We have another problem,” Yara said.
“Oh, good.” Amaranthe couldn’t hide the high-pitched squeak to her voice. “We didn’t have enough to worry about.”
Yara pointed at the tunnel entrance.
Beyond the water pouring from the ceiling crack, smoke was rising from somewhere. At first, Amaranthe thought it was from the buried vehicle, but it couldn’t be. It had to be those cubes, burning their way through that rubble. In a few seconds, they’d be inside.
A slab of rock snapped away from the ceiling crack and crashed to the floor. Water poured through the gap.
“Maybe those cubes aren’t waterproof,” Amaranthe said bleakly. She doubted it.
“Maybe the chamber will flood,” Books said from the other lorry, “and we’ll drown before they incinerate us.” Indeed, thanks to the increased flow, water smothered the floor and was creeping up the walls of the chamber. In another foot, it’d reach the bottom of the cabs.
“Better than being smashed by the roof collapsing,” Maldynado said.
Sespian cleared his throat. “Can’t we just swim out?”
Amaranthe blinked. He was right. Right now, there was no way anyone could fight the current of the descending water, but once the chamber filled, everything ought to equalize. Shouldn’t it? She looked at Books.
He lifted a shoulder. “If those cubes don’t break in first. And if the route isn’t too twisty and narrow for human bodies to pass through. And if the surface isn’t too far up.”
“Don’t overwhelm us with your optimism, Booksie,” Maldynado said.
Basilard tapped Amaranthe. If necessary, I will distract the cubes so the team can escape.
“Noble, Basilard,” Amaranthe said, “but I’d prefer it if we all lived.” She’d prefer it if Sicarius were there too. She wanted to kick him for abandoning them. Not that she wanted him to die with them, but he knew more about those cubes than anyone.
Water crept higher, flooding the cab. The cold currents tugged at Amaranthe’s legs.
Across the chamber, a fist-sized piece of rock tumbled down the cave-in hill and splashed into the water. More smoke wafted from the hole.
“That’s it,” Amaranthe said, certain the cubes were about to burst through. Running away from them would have been hard enough, but swimming?
Another thunderous crack came from above. This time, the boulder that dropped away was the size of a steam vehicle. The lake gushed in. Before Amaranthe could do more than suck in a gulp of air, tepid water engulfed her. It extinguished the lanterns, and blackness swallowed the cave.
Fear surged through her limbs. All she could think to do was push away from the lorry and swim in the direction she thought was the hole. She bumped someone’s leg, or arm, or who knew what? So long as it wasn’t one of those cubes.
Her fingers scraped against rock. The ceiling? The water seemed brighter ahead. All too aware of how deep they were and how little air she had, Amaranthe angled in that direction, hoping her eyes weren’t tricking her. As she swam, she kept one hand on the rocky surface, using it as a guide. It ended in at a jagged edge. The hole leading upward, she hoped. What else could it be?
With that optimistic thought, Amaranthe angled her body into the passage. All of the edges were jagged, and she had to twist and writhe to find a route upward. At least she hoped it was upward. Maybe she’d merely found the tunnel, and she was swimming deeper into the complex and farther from the surface. And air.
No. The tunnel wouldn’t have any light, and those sharp, jagged edges hadn’t been formed by erosion or machines. They were fresh.
Again, Amaranthe bumped against someone-this time her knuckles brushing a boot. Someone was above her. That gave her further hope. If others were going that direction, it had to be the way out. As she continued on, the brightness grew stronger. There was no current in the crevice, but she could feel her natural buoyancy helping her ascend as well.
Finally, the dark stone walls disappeared. The water made her sight blurry, but she could see reds and greens-seaweed. She’d reached the bottom of the lake. None too soon either. Her lungs were pleading for air.
Not sure how many feet down the bottom was, Amaranthe kicked for the surface. Her long dress tangled about her legs. Had she the breath, she would have snarled at the impractical garb. She kicked harder and stretched her arms toward the surface, longing to break through and gasp in fresh air.
A dark shadow blotted out the light coming from the sky. At first, Amaranthe thought she might be coming up under a log, so she veered to the side. Then the “log” dove down and slammed into her.
The force drove her several feet to the side. Her last vestiges of air escaped in an explosion of bubbles even as she tumbled through the water, head over feet.
Amaranthe clawed for the short sword that usually hung at her waist, but only found a knife. It’d have to do. She yanked the blade free. The dark shape had come around; it swam straight toward her. It looked like a giant eel. It had to be the creature from the underwater pool, the one that had feasted on the guard.
Her lungs ached to suck in a breath, and the surface waited, tantalizingly close, but she dared not turn her back on the eel. At this depth, plenty of light filtered down to reveal its maw as it neared, how it opened up, displaying two fences of fangs bigger than swords…
Amaranthe gripped her knife tighter, the short blade paltry in comparison.
The eel’s tail undulated, and the beast surged forward. She tried to fling herself to the side and lash out as it swam past, but it was too fast. This was the eel’s milieu, and that maw whipped about to follow her as quickly as one of Sicarius’s sword strikes. It would have- should have-chomped down on her, but the creature halted mid- attack. It reared back, and Amaranthe didn’t question her reprieve. With her lungs screaming for air, and blackness encroaching at the edges of her vision, she swam for the surface.
When she burst through, her desperate gasp drew in as much water as air. Coughs wracked her body. Dagger still in hand, Amaranthe spun in a circle, trying to spot the creature-or nearby land so she could sprint to a beach where it couldn’t reach her.
“You all right, boss?” came Maldynado’s voice from twenty meters away. He was treading water and supporting Yara. She’d succumbed to a bout of coughing as well. Closer to shore, Basilard lifted his arm. Thank his ancestors, Akstyr had revived enough to swim out; he treaded water with Basilard’s support.
“I think so,” Amaranthe answered.
Something churned beneath the surface, agitating the water.
