Queen Of The Great Underworld

28

::You’re welcome.::

Because I’d missed it before.

I could hardly believe I remembered the code. Granted, he’d used the basic abbreviations he’d taught me, and he used my same crawling pace so that I could keep up, but I remembered. I understood. That was incredible.

::Where?:: I asked. I hoped he could fill in the missing words I didn’t have the energy to spell out.

::They came while you were in the bath.::

Oh, the bath. I remembered that. Water. Feeling clean. Tirta inspecting my twists. That was a good memory: human touch.

At home, few people touched me. Not Mother and Father. Nor Zara. Why should they? Strangers certainly were not allowed. Jan, as my personal guard, felt it unprofessional unless he was saving my life. Ilydsey could, but rarely did, now that we were older. Krasimir did, because it was her job. She was always efficient and careful as she worked. And kind, too, of course.

But Tirta hadn’t checked my hair because it was her job. She’d done it because she wanted to help. Otherwise, in the Pit, there’d been Yarrow and Sarannai and other guards. I didn’t want to think about those.

And now there was Aaru. Efficient, like Krasimir. Thoughtful, like Tirta. It must have been horribly dull for him to tap the code so slowly, but I hadn’t been up to his speed even before the lights went out. Now, half-dead from dehydration . . . definitely not.

But then, I recalled my skin: paper dry and falling apart. I couldn’t be sure how much of that had been real, but days without water must have had some effect. And he was touching me. Feeling my awful skin. He must have been so disgusted. What I wouldn’t give for a handful of coconut oil or shea butter. My skin thirsted just as much as my throat.

At home, Mother had jars and jars of lotions of every scent. Jasmine, lavender, orange blossom, apple, rose, ginger . . . others, too. I wished I had them now. With a little more effort, I could imagine spreading the smooth cream on my arms and legs and face. Glorious, sweet-scented moisture.

Aaru gave no indication that he minded my rough skin, though. He continued with his tapped message like he didn’t notice. Still, this was the first time he’d ever touched me. I wished I could have been soft.

I hated Yarrow a little more for destroying the only things anyone liked about me.

::Some didn’t want to go,:: Aaru said, oblivious to my whirlpool of distress. ::They’ve been here so long. But no one had a choice. Those who resisted were dragged out in chains.::

Who had resisted? Aaru? Gerel? Hurrok or Kumas?

::We were taken to a different cellblock. Brighter. Better. Guards said it was to encourage us to behave and take jobs.::

Given the questions Yarrow had asked me before darkening the noorestones, I doubted simple encouragement was the real reason for their removal.

No, I was being punished, but I didn’t have the energy to explain. Already, my thoughts were sluggish. I wanted to sleep, but even more, I wanted to keep this connection as long as possible. Just because he hadn’t let go of me before didn’t mean he wouldn’t if I drifted off again. I’d been alone for days. I never wanted to repeat that.

::Did it work?:: I asked.

His forefinger was motionless on my knuckles for five heartbeats. Ten. Twelve.

Then he said, ::Two meals a day. More water. Bigger cells with real beds. It was better there. Three stayed.::

::But you did not.::

He closed his hand over mine and squeezed. “I did not,” he whispered.

Chills swept through my heart, carrying a fantasy that he’d returned to the first level because of me. Because he wouldn’t leave me behind. But that was foolish, of course. This strange and fluttery feeling was simply a result of his kindness and I was starving for human contact.

::They all lie.:: Aaru tapped my knuckles again. ::I will not give them what they want. I will not abandon my ally.::

When he pulled away, deeper into his cell, my hand was cold and empty. My fingertips fell still and silent on the floor, my code-voice removed as simply as his withdrawal. As for my throat-voice, it was useless right now, but I tried, anyway, to bring him back.

“Ah—” The pathetic sound ground upward from my throat, across my tongue, and died on the floor beside me.

Aaru reappeared at the hole. “Checked cup.”

Oh. Relief trickled through me.

He squeezed his hand through the hole and rested it over mine. His skin smelled sour, like the prison, but somewhere under the filth, I caught notes of open fields and rainstorms and lightning-shot skies. “Still empty,” he whispered.

Of course. Since I’d just drunk all the water. All of Aaru’s water. Again. Same as the day of my arrival.

He had so little. He gave so much.

Before I could respond, heavy footfalls slammed through the hall, and I recognized the cadence of Yarrow’s stride. Six, seven, eight . . . He was coming closer, from the direction of the mess hall, not the bath. And there was someone with him—someone larger, who took two steps for every three of Yarrow’s.

The panic spiked. My hand shook, knocking Aaru’s away. He released a sharp, quiet cry as his knuckles bashed against the edge of the wall hole.

Adrenaline flooded my whole body, making my face and throat and chest heat.

No, no, no. I couldn’t have an attack now. Not when I was already so weak. But I couldn’t stop it. All the breathing exercises and calming thoughts Doctor Chilikoba had ever taught me were burning up in the fire of terror. Useless.

Breath huffed out of me in jagged gasps and all my thoughts jumbled into a giant nothing. I was falling apart. Falling to pieces. Floating away.

My cell door screeched and Yarrow and his companion came inside. The panic overtook me, a storm I could not outrun.