Mads felt like she'd entered some mythical underworld as they picked their way through the sulfurous smoke and spontaneous bursts of flames. She had completely lost her sense of time since she and Graynard had left the ship. It could have been just a few hours; it felt more like years.
Once, the dangling tail of Luc's rope belt went up in flame, and he casually tossed it into a nearby pit. Mads watched the spiraling, curling, burning, twisting thing, and then was yanked out of the way of a fire gust that would have melted her face. At one point, Luc's right foot plunged into a small sinkhole, and a tense few seconds elapsed before he managed to pull it back out again.
But regardless of how much time had actually passed, Mads finally looked up and found herself scrambling onto sturdy black rock, catching the hand that Luc offered her and letting him pull her up beside him. Ahead of them, the sand and dirt had widened into a trail, and it twisted beyond her sight, curving into what she dared hope was a normal tunnel.
Luc sagged against the tunnel wall, winded and wide-eyed.
So he is human, after all, she thought, grateful for the chance to catch her breath.
"I never want to do that again." Luc's eyes were red-rimmed from the smoke, and they probably smarted as much as Mads' did. "It looked a lot easier on paper."
Mads gaped at him, processing what he'd just said. "Wait, you've never actually been through there?"
He shook his head. "But I've looked at the map hundreds of times. We were perfectly safe."
Mads pictured the leaping flames, the slipping sand that gave way as they passed it, the winding trail that she hadn't been able to determine, and then she hit him.
He wasn't as quick as normal, but she still missed his pretty face. Instead, her fist glanced off his shoulder as he dodged, sending him lurching into the wall, and making her hand sting with a sudden pain.
"Ouch!" Mads cradled her fist to her chest, glowering at him. The heat had split the just-healing skin across her knuckles.
Luc winced, with a backwards glance at the jutting rock behind him. He rolled his shoulder, prodding the place she'd hit with two filthy fingers. "I deserved that," he observed. "But we can have a proper match later, if you want. You know, your stance is kind of sloppy."
"What?" Mads was embarrassed at how shrieky her voice came out, but she was angry. "It's technically perfect, it's just this sand."
Luc took her arm. "Sand we need to get off of. I'm sure they'll be here any minute." His eyes strayed down her arm to her left hand, which had fresh blood dripping down from the splits. "Hellscapes," he muttered. "You're bleeding."
Still fuming, Mads shook off his hand and cradled her own hands to her chest. "My cut never had the chance to stop." She held up her right hand, the long, shallow slash across her palm red and irritated from sand, dirt, and stars knew what else. It was still dribbling blood every time she flexed or strained it, and it was probably going to get infected.
Luc rolled his shoulder again and glanced around. "No water or springs in this part, unfortunately. The path we're on leads to one, if I recall correctly. We should be there in around twenty minutes, if they don't find us."
Mads continued to glower at him. "Have you seen it before, or did you just see it one time on a map?"
He flashed her a quick (blinding) grin. "More than once. I memorized it, of course." Then he reached out and took her hand again, frowning at the fresh blood. "I could bind this up. But I'd need to tear up my shirt, or part of your robes. So which one of us is going to walk around half naked?" His expression went from gleeful to sly, his lips curling suggestively as he gestured from her torn and filthy robe to his stained (and even more filthy) tunic.
Mads felt herself blush and she wanted to strangle him, tear that expression off of his face with her ragged nails, shove him back into the pits of fire and lava, or, or, just . . . She couldn't finish the thought and she was too angry for caution, so she ripped her hand away and plunged into the passage beyond them.
And then the ground disappeared from under her feet. Mads couldn't even scream, her robe was in her mouth. Sand hit her face, scraped her raw, and Mads closed her eyes and tried not to panic.
She couldn't breathe.
And then she was being hauled back up, which hurt even worse. Her arms seemed to be wrenching out of their sockets, again, and the pain was making her woozy. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen.
She heard a faraway voice, shouting at her. And then she gagged, heaved, spewing sand and saliva out onto the rock that was also tearing into her shoulder. She felt her chest collapse (or fill up?), as rough hands hit her square in the back. Hands, or ropes, seemed to be shifting and pulling and rearranging her limbs, like she was a broken doll.
"Hey! Angry, can you hear me?"
Breathing made it easier to think, and Mads slowly recalled where she was. But why was everything still dark? She tried to open her eyes and felt them twitch. They were sore and grainy, as if she had a bad case of pink eye. But they finally opened, and she could see a dim shade of gray, but nothing else.
Mads was yanked into a sitting position, and she yelped in pain, scrubbing at her eyes with her sore arm. There was grit in her mouth, cutting her tongue and lips, and she spit it out. But there was still more.
"That's right." Luc patted her back, not hard, but firmly. "Get it all out."
Mads spat out more sand and gagged, inhaling razor-edged lungfuls of air in between. She rubbed her gritty eyes again, and this time she could see, though her eyes were bleary with tears from the irritation.
Luc crouched beside her in a small alcove, green eyes very close and bright, despite the dimness. "Here, drink this." He pressed a small bottle to her mouth, and cool water dripped onto her grimy lips.
Mads' fingers were trembling, her injured hands clawed into protective fists, but she still managed to take the bottle herself. After some more spitting and gagging, most of the sand seemed to be out of her mouth.
"I hope you've learned your lesson about just charging off," said Luc, but his tone was light, gentle even.
Mads kept her eyes on the cave wall, so she wouldn't have to look at him. He saved your life, again. Mads glowered, clenching the bottle until her knuckles were white. It was his fault she'd been in danger in the first place. But you chose to come down here.
"You okay?" asked Luc, unaware of her internal debate. He placed a tentative hand on her (sore) right shoulder. "Nothing felt broken, when I checked."
Mads yelped in horror. "What?" She whipped her head around, smacking his face with her sand-crusted dreads.
Luc winced. Up close, she could see that his pupils weren't that strange after all. They were almost circular, like hers and those of every other human she'd met. Must have imagined that.
"Well, your angriness, I could have left you in that sinkhole." He wrinkled his nose. "I know I'm a bad person, but I'm not that kind of bad person. I needed to make sure nothing was broken. And just so you know, I excel at setting bones. Lots of practice. Not only humans."
Mads glared at him, even if she knew she was being unreasonable. "I bet. And don't call me that."
"What? Your name is too long, and your nickname too apt. Mads. Is there ever a time when you're not angry?" His frown slid into a smile faster than she could blink, revealing pointy teeth and those cursed dimples.
Up close, the full force of it hit Mads like a fist, and all the fight went out of her. "I'm not," she managed weakly. "I'm not always angry. Just at you."
Luc tilted her chin up with a finger. "You're always angry about something. When we met, you were angry at your town, at the cards life dealt you. How can someone who can see so much about everyone else be so blind to themselves? That's what I really want to know."
"Not you," she blurted out, because she had to say something and she couldn't think clearly. Everything hurt and his hands were too hot. She needed space, fresh air. To put five thousand galaxies between them.
He blinked. "What?"
"You're empty." The words kept spilling out on their own. "Empty space. Less than a robotic-- more like a corpse. Like a . . . ghost." Only now that she said it out loud, she realized it wasn't exactly true. Not anymore.
Maybe it was proximity, but she was getting, something, from him. Tangled and incoherent intentions, the traces of feeling and thought that she had always recognized in others. But she didn't understand them and she couldn't think clearly enough to analyze them. She felt frozen, like a cornered animal facing a predator. Her heart was certainly racing.
Luc cocked his head. "And I think you swallowed too much sand. But we're wasting time. We're almost out. And when we get out alive, then you can try to land a punch on me. Try." His thumb brushed across her lip, taking a trace of sand with it. "Come on."
Mads' ire flooded back as she registered what he'd said. She swatted his hand away. "I'm going to hit you so hard, you'll feel it for a year." Cocky piece of space debris. Maybe she could even knock out a tooth or two.
Luc grinned again and rose to his feet. "I look forward to watching you fail." He reached out a hand to help her up, and she let him.
Mads' limbs were quivering like a newborn's, on the verge of a collapse, but she wasn't about to let on. Still, she was thankful for his hand, and the way he naturally steadied her. And how he'd saved her life, but she was still annoyed. Although, the image of knocking Luc's teeth out had taken the edge off her anger.
A slow clapping echoed behind them, further up the passage, and Luc whirled, bringing Mads with him.
"Inspiring." A woman's voice, her form obscured in the dimness. "Moving performance, for a snake-eyed liar."
Luc stepped in front of Mads, shielding her with his body, but giving her a full view of the figure in the hallway.
The woman had the same sword she'd wielded in the throne room. Her face was still slightly indistinct, but her height and the towering antlered headdress marked her as the High Priestess of Andhera.
Luc cleared his throat. "Hey, how've you been? Still beautiful, I see. I doubt you've forgotten, but the last time we dueled, I left you tied to your idol. I'm surprised they let you keep your job after that."
The priestess' voice was tight with anger, and she stepped closer, raising the sword. "I'm not the mewling girl I was then. I brought friends. Unfortunately for you, I'm not the only one." Her gaze flicked to Mads for a moment, and then back to Luc.
Mads jabbed Luc in the arm. "What's she talking about?" she hissed.
"Shh, tell you later," his reply was barely audible.
To their left, a door seemed to appear in the stone, sliding back to reveal muscular soldiers in the horrible bone armor. Silently, they stepped in to fill the tunnel space around the High Priestess. Each soldier held wicked-looking short knives, and their eyes were dark with hatred.
Mads scowled at Luc's shoulder/back. "I don't think there's going to be a later."
"Don't try to run," intoned the Priestess, sliding her sword back into its sheath with an unnecessary flourish. "Put down your weapons. Or die in the pits." She waved behind them, back the way they'd come. "I've got people at every entrance, including the sacred entrances heathens like you weren't supposed to know about." Her voice shook a little, revealing just how much she was fighting to keep control.
Luc sighed. "Fine. Have it your way. But I'd have preferred it if you said please."
The woman raised a brow. "Weapons!" she repeated, and her tone was deadly.
Luc nudged Mads' foot with his, and dropped his voice very low. "She's crazy. I'll tell you later. Open your hand"
"The truth," said Mads, but she pressed her palm to his, and felt a slim scroll pass into her grasp.
Luc dropped a couple knives simultaneously, where they would thud noisily on the rock. He made a show of patting up his arms and legs, then taking out another couple knives. Finally he spread his arms wide and flashed his dazzling grin. "Search me again if you want. Or . . ." his tone turned suggestive as he untied the neck of his loose shirt and started to lift the hem, revealing a strip of pale skin and some scattered scarring. "I can keep going . . ."
Mads felt her face heat up, even though he wasn't talking to her or even looking at her. Neither was anyone else, she realized with a jolt. No one seemed to realize that Luc had passed her anything. No one was looking at her at all.
Mads slipped the scroll down the front of her dress, hoping they wouldn't look there if they did decide to search her. She could feel the paper rustling against her sternum, and she wondered how the scroll's contents could be more important than weapons.
"Enough!" snapped the priestess. By then, the guards had reached them and patted Luc down. They produced lock picks (from his shoe), but nothing more. They did not seem to feel the need to finish removing his shirt.
Once the guards were satisfied, they finally approached Mads. She held out her blood and dirt streaked bare arms. "If I had a knife, it would have been in someone's throat by now," she muttered.
Instead of searching her, a man just tied her hands behind her back, ignoring her completely. He wasn't looking at her as he tied the ropes, his eyes on Luc as the others tied the bounty hunter's arms several times. Thanks to her captors' negligence, Mads managed to use Graynard's rope loosening trick.
Thanks a lot, Mads scowled at the soldier, boldly looking him in the eye as his gaze reverted back to her. She couldn't have worse luck, and she didn't believe in curses.
He blinked, and then averted his eyes. "Come on," he said, shoving Mads into Luc, who barely twitched at the contact, easily keeping them both upright despite his bound arms.
The High Priestess nodded at her soldiers. "Take them to the holding room. Guard every crack. And don't go in their room, no matter what he says. I'll deal with them once I've finished restoring order." She glanced at Luc, her eyes glittering. "Andhera is not amused by your antics. It will take rivers of blood to calm her rage."
"I'm amused," said Luc, as they shoved him forward, a guard on each arm. "This many soldiers for the two of us? Outrageous. There should be at least two more full companies! I'm insulted."
"Silence!" The Priestess slapped Luc across the mouth. "Show some respect, even if it's forced."
Undeterred, Luc gave her a sly grin. "You'll have to cut out my tongue."
The woman's eyes flashed. "I'll take that into consideration."
Mads wondered if she was the only person who noticed the way the High Priestess' voice was shaking, or how the woman hovered in Luc's space. Regardless, Mads was really starting to wonder about the first time these two had met. And she was a little irked that no one seemed to remember her or find her the slightest bit threatening. They just shoved her along in the line like walking baggage.
The soldiers led them through several narrow rock tunnels, most of which involved cleverly hidden doors and stuffy passages. At some point, the High Priestess broke off from them, but by that time, Luc was also sporting a gag.
When they stopped, Mads just wanted to curl up and sleep. Her whole body ached from the inside to the outside, and her feet were starting to bleed from the chafing sandals. She almost didn't care what happened. Almost.
Therefore, Mads was honestly relieved to be shoved back into a dark, stuffy little room without so much as a bench. There wasn't a light, either. Again. The door slammed shut, and Mads felt like she was in a tomb. Her cheek had scuffed the dirt when they pitched her onto the floor, and her shoulder was whining at her.
Still, she closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. Now, if only the soldiers could leave them alone long enough for her to take a nap. Would that really be too much to ask?
Mads wriggled a bit, trying to get in the most comfortable position one could attain with a battered body and raw-scraped hands. She didn't have the energy to try to get out of the ropes yet. She'd do that later. She also didn't have the energy to check and see if Luc was still conscious, or even in here with her.
It was still dark when she awakened, and Mads was completely disoriented. Where am I? Wait, hadn't her hands been bound? Mads lifted her right hand, and her shoulder twinged in pain. She waved her hand in front of her face, ignoring her shoulder and the stinging burn of her torn, sliced palm. She couldn't see her hand, but she wasn't dreaming, and she definitely wasn't tied up anymore. This room was just as stuffy and close as her previous one had been, but this one smelled like a garbage pit. Disgusting.
Mads rolled onto her back and hit something solid. She stretched out one of her free hands, finding rough fabric and warm skin. Luc. So they were both in the room, and still alive. Mads wondered what time it was.
Luc sighed, his clothes rustling beside her. "I haven't heard a thing," he said, proving that his gag was also gone. "But it gave me enough time to deal with the ropes."
Mads glanced in his direction. She could have found him with her nose, even if he hadn't been speaking: his borrowed robes still reeked of rotten vegetables and wet fur. "How can you stand wearing those clothes?" she asked, trying to breathe with the shallowest inhales possible. It didn't help.
"Hey," he said, his tone playful. "You're not going to ask how I got out of the ropes and gags, or even thank me?"
Mads yawned and stretched her arms over her head, popping her sore shoulders. "Mine shouldn't have been hard – Graynard showed me how to hold my hands."
"It's still dark," protested Luc. "I'm dying from lack of appreciation."
Oh stars, Mads massaged her temples. "You have enhanced eyes, remember? I'll leave 'appreciation' to the High Priestess. So what happened between you two? You promised to tell me the truth."
"I did?"
Mads struck out in his general direction, and was rewarded by a grunt when her left hand smacked his chest.
"Fine," he said. "I was hunting a mark, remember, I mentioned that before. I ended up in the wrong place, in Andhera's temple. In a part where men weren't allowed. It was completely by mistake."
"Mmhmm?" Mads didn't bother to hide her skepticism.
"But that's where I found the map," he continued. "And then, she found me. I didn't know what to do." He actually sounded a little sheepish. "I tried to talk my way out of it. I think she got the wrong idea, or something."
Mads snorted. "I can't imagine how that happened."
"Shut up." Luc hit her arm, but gently, more like a tap. "I thought you wanted to know the story. Stop interrupting."
"I'm not interrupting, I'm just making helpful observations."
"If helpful means annoying."
Mads rolled her eyes. "Whatever, so go on."
"Next thing I know, I was taken to this, uh, room. Nothing happened. I got out of there, but, ah." Luc groaned. "I didn't make any friends here. It was a little traumatizing, to be honest. I'm used to doing a job, getting in and out, leaving no trace. So her goons ended up cornering me in the sacrificial room, and I had to fight them. Don't be fooled, the priestess is good with a sword. But she's too stiff. And I'm not ashamed to cheat. Needless to say, by the end of it, I walked out with my mark, several guards' uniforms, and zero desire to ever set foot in Ga'naa again."
"That worked out well," muttered Mads. "Is Jupiter Jive worth this?"
"Not if we die," said Luc. "Which is why we can't die."
Mads blinked. "Wait--you do know we're stuck in a tomb with a bunch of guards outside, we ruined a sacrifice and probably committed outrageous blasphemy, and also the priestess wants to make you pay for messing with her heart."
She could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "I took that all under consideration. The most important thing now is survival. That's why I gave you the map. Whatever happens, don't lose it. I don't care what you have to do. Oh, and please don't draw too much attention. If they don't think you're a threat, they'll ignore you. But you can't be too unimportant, or they'll just kill you right off--"
"That's reassuring. I'm so glad you have it all under control." Mads winced as she flexed her cut hand. "What a hero. I can see why she likes you."
Luc continued, ignoring her sarcasm. "We've got to play her right. She can't get too jealous. You'll have to win her over. Flatter her."
Mads scratched her head. "Did I miss something?"
Luc sighed heavily. "Brave and mighty coffee psychic. There are three words I never wanted to say to you."
Mads glared at him in the dark. "Get on with it."
Luc sighed again, as if defeated. "I. Need. Help."
Mads sat up, ignoring the pain shooting down her spine. "Obviously! You're like a netdrama mother(43), for stars sakes! Of course you need help, we both do!"
He laughed. "Those women are icons. And my mother was like that, but sheer evil. She had a lot more blood on her hands. She despised me."
Mads blinked, processing this. Why was he laughing? "Nothing about this is funny, okay?" She massaged her aching arms, wincing at the pain and the layer of sand and grit that seemed to be coating her body. "Maybe you can schmooze the priestess into at least letting us bathe before we die."
"You're so utterly pragmatic." Luc stopped laughing, but she could still hear the ghost of humor in his voice. "And I think we can do one better than a bath."
Mads wrinkled her nose at another whiff of dead dog. "I doubt it."
"But we'll need to go carefully," he continued. "So once more, I need you to trust me."
Mads stiffened. "Why? Because that has worked out so well for me?"
"Well, if we're being technical, I don't think you've ever tried."
Mads blinked twice, startled because it was true. "Okay. Fine. But trust isn't something you 'try out,' like new shoes or changing your hair. It's something you earn. And you've never given me a good enough reason to start."
He sighed. "I hate to bring up the past, I do, but I did save your life recently. More than once. Maybe I've lied-- a lot-- and maybe it's my fault you're here, but if you want to stay alive, I'm your best shot. And you're mine. If we get out of this, you might be the only thing that stops some people from killing me, but right now, I'm the only person who can help you. Do you believe me?"
Mads sank back down and closed her eyes. She tried to hate him, to summon her rage and fury at how he'd waltzed into her life and destroyed it. He was a liar, a cheat, and a killer, but also much more complicated than that. "Why should I?"
"A valid question. But do you really have a better option? I did give you my map of the escape routes, that scroll I passed you. A gesture of good faith."
Mads sighed. "Okay. Fine. Whatever." Stars knew she had zero ideas about how to get out of this room.
Luc laughed again, turning to face her in the dark. "Perfect. So, I know you're probably not very good at acting, but I'm going to need you to try. When they drag you out there, tell them we're lovers. Tell them I carried you away, and you didn't know who I was. Tell them that you don't care what happens to you, only to spare me."
Mads recoiled. "What the hell? How is that supposed to help? Tell them I don't care what happens to me? That's all I care about here." She glowered into the darkness. "You're crazy. And stupid. And you smell like a dead dog!"
Luc reached over and tapped her forehead, somehow finding it in the absolute dark. "I said to trust me. You don't want to get roughed up even worse, do you? I know how she thinks. I know how to manipulate her, at least a little. I'm trying to help."
Mads felt herself blushing, regardless. "But how will that help? It doesn't make any sense."
"Well, I can't make promises, but I have some ideas. One, they might keep us together if they think it'll hurt us worse. Two, they'll think more carefully about how they treat you if you can be used to hurt me. Three, if they think you'll suffer if they hurt me, but they don't think I care what happens to you, then I'm the only one who gets beaten to a pulp. The priestess already thinks badly of me. If she thinks you're a victim of misguided trust and emotional manipulation, she might identify with or sympathize with you. There's no time to give you every reason it could or couldn't work. But you just said you would trust me, so trust me."
Mads considered this in silence, trying not to dwell on how clearly he laid out a case for manipulating people into doing what he wanted. And how it all centered on making their captors torture him, blame him, and make her just an accessory. There were a million ways it could backfire, but Mads ached from her head to her singed and stubbed toes. It was all ludicrous. But she didn't have a better idea. She didn't have any ideas at all.
Finally, she turned back to face his general direction. "You really want to try this?"
His voice was soft. "I've survived worse. Just keep yourself safe. Consider it an investment in my future."
Mads didn't know what to think. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. She wanted a bath and then to sleep for a year. No books or dramas had prepared her for this situation, and she didn't want to think about what might happen to them before they were inevitably killed.
"Okay." She felt like the words were stealing all her energy. "You win. But I absolutely hate you, you know?"
She could tell from his voice that he was grinning. "I know. Believe me. I know."