A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER SEVEN

The tunnels under Valinac seemed endless. They scattered in a myriad of directions, running on without any clear destination. If she had to make her own way, Jill knew she'd be hopelessly lost. Even now, all she could do was follow Gunnar and pray he didn't decide to abandon her to the darkness.

He kept a firm grip on her arm, pulling her unerringly forward despite the minimal amount of light. When Callista left, taking the only light source with her, she and Gunnar had been plunged into darkness. With a bit of fumbling and cursing, they eventually stumbled across a dimly burning torch wedged between some rocks. Apparently, Gunnar and Callista had left it earlier for use on the return trip. The find had come as a welcome relief, especially after Gunnar led her into two brick walls and tripped them over a pile of discarded refuse. Their bumbling became an all-out sprint then, with Jill doing her best to match his pace. The sounds of pursuit faded but Gunnar still pushed her mercilessly. Gritting her teeth, her hands on fire, she lifted the tattered remnant of her skirt over her right arm and ran. Mud and water splashed her calves and soaked her useless shoes.

"Not far to the stables," Gunnar panted over his shoulder. "Once there, you'll strip off those clothes. We won't get anywhere with you dressed like a spy in West Cendanese blue. You'll be disguised as a priestess. I'll be a palace guard, escorting you back to the temple. That should get us out of the palace. When we get to the temple, we hope like hell the priestesses let us in. Any questions?"

Any questions? Is he kidding me? "No," she panted back, fighting to keep up, refusing to complain.

Yet for all that, she tripped on the uneven ground and fell hard on her knees. Gunnar swore, dragged down part way with her before jerking her up roughly. Jill shrieked at the jolt of pain, staggered, and almost tumbled a second time. Again Gunnar swore, but now he stopped to look at her. Impatience rolled off him in waves. Paired with that came a seething resentment at Jill that he had left Callista behind to fend for herself. Jill wished, not for the first time, that she knew enough about wards to block out the assault of his emotions. Or better yet, radiate some of my pissed off frustrations back at him. Jill swiped her sleeve across her eyes, rubbing violently at the forming tears.

"Callista wanted to stay with Tamas!" she threw out angrily.

Gunnar stepped back, eyes wide. "What?"

"She wouldn't have come with you no matter how you feel about each other. You couldn't have convinced her."

"How can you—"

"I'm Arianie's Chosen and unfortunately, I seem to be catching every thought that goes through your head. As I said, I don't know how to ward myself because if I did, I would certainly shut out listening to how annoyed you are at being here right now!"

Gunnar blinked. "I... I'm sorry. You're right. Callista's doing what she believes is correct. I can't fault her or blame you for that. Are you all right? Can you make it?"

"I'll make it because I have to."

"Not far now," he said, swallowing the impatience. Jill could actually feel him beat the surge back and push Callista from his mind. "I've memorized our path to the stables. Just a little further and we'll be there."

As they moved, the tunnels began to change, looking in better repair. The dirt floor gave way to gravel, and finally cobblestones. Torches were mounted along the walls. These were spread thinly however, with heavy shadows falling between one torch and the next. The odor of straw and the distinctive smell of horses also wafted down to them. Jill breathed deeply, her unease fading against the comforting, familiar scents.