38 | UNDERGROUND

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The tunnel stretched out—dark, monotonous and claustrophobic.

Binara had lost track of time since they entered it. The nagas held torches that illuminated the way, and the firelight reflected off their scales. Their lower bodies slithered on the ground, powerful muscles contracting and relaxing. Dusky plates covered their limbs and overlapped like pangolin armor. Tribal art and body piercings stood out in striking colors, primarily yellow, which Binara thought might serve to intimidate enemies as well as convey their rank.

If she harbored any thoughts of escaping, they were put to rest the further they went. The nagas never let their guard down, and their faces were set in a grim mask, eyes alert and unblinking. It was as if they were transporting dangerous prisoners, which was probably the case when it came to Diyan.

She glanced at him. He walked ahead of her, manacles clanking with each step. The metal looked large and heavy, though he gave no indication that it bothered him. She had no idea what he was thinking, but as for her, hopelessness weighed her down. The nagas might kill them eventually. Given that she was human, she could even become an exotic pet to their chieftain. She wondered how long she would last in Holmanloke, since just one week in Diyan's palace had its toll on her.

The fate that might await them was bad enough, but on top of that, images of horror flashed in her mind—demons overrunning Hevana, people dying and the city plunging into a dark age. Their quest had failed even before they reached Mount Meru. A headache pulsed into existence, and she sucked in rapid breaths, struggling to rein in the panic.

The tunnel forked now and then, which hinted at a vast network. On occasion, percussive noises echoed down, which Binara thought could be tunneling work in progress. Eventually, they arrived at an underground settlement that appeared to be a military outpost.

Crude structures of stone and clay occupied the space, with totems and flags that displayed snake heads. Doorways led to several chambers, their interiors hidden in the gloom. Binara spied steps and arches as well as a hole in the roof, which might have been a ventilation shaft. The whole place reminded her of a termite mound.

As they ventured further in, a dozen nagas slithered into view, and the air almost sizzled with anticipation. Their language hissed in Binara's ears as rapid commands fired back and forth. Torch light flashed on slit pupils, scaly bodies and endless walls of hewn rock—until her head started to spin.

She had a moment to register Diyan being led through a doorway, and in that moment, he turned and caught her eye. He mouthed a word, which she couldn't make out. Before she could ponder it more, three warriors whisked her away to a holding cell. One of them took her backpack and Diyan's weapons through a door along the way.

There was nothing inside the cell but for a stone bench. When she refused to move, a nagini punched her in the ribs. Binara gritted her teeth against the pain, and the instant she staggered in, the barred door slammed shut behind her. A key turned in the lock. The nagini took position outside, cold eyes drilling into her.

Binara slumped down in a daze. The headache intensified, and she curled into a ball. Imprisoned under tons of earth, the maddening quiet ate away at her—except for the low booming sounds that reverberated through the place at infrequent intervals.


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