I continue to follow Layla through the tunnels. We enter a large cavern with cobblestone floors. There are smashed boxes all over the ground. Scattered clothes. Even a couple pairs of shoes.

“What happened here?” I ask Layla.

“There are several other gangs down here, groups that have formed in the Graveyard for various reasons. Most for protection. The Kai doesn’t like that we live here. It’s a stain on the beautiful capital. He sends the guards down here every so often. They raid the tunnels, arresting people and trying to fish out any hangs. If you ever see kids hollering about a raid, run in the other direction.”

I try not to step on anyone’s belongings as we pass through the cavern. I wonder where these people are now. Perhaps they’re with my brother. Knowing that Layla lives down here makes me understand her a bit more. No wonder she’s so tough. You can’t survive in a place like this without bite. “How long have you lived here?” I ask as we climb up a stone staircase. A pair of marble lions, turned black from age and filth, watches over us from the top of the stairs.

“Since I moved here,” Layla says, rubbing the head of a lion when we walk by it.

I sigh. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of defensive?”

“Anyone tell you you’re kinda cute?”

I stop short. “What do…I’m not…Did you…”

She laughs and holds up her hands to stop my stuttering. “Just wanted to shut you up.”

Apparently she already knows me well, because it works like a charm. I stay awkwardly silent the rest of the way.

“We’re here,” Layla says a half an hour later. This tunnel looks no different than any other to me. Perhaps a little bit bigger.

“Before we go in there are a couple things you need to know,” Layla says. “One, don’t stare. Two, don’t ask questions or-”

“I already knew that one.”

“Or interrupt,” Layla scolds. “Three, know your place. It’s not in there,” she jabs a finger down the tunnel, “not yet. Like I said aboveground, you’ve got to earn your right to belong, to get information. For now, just learn the ropes. Keep your eyes open. Sound good?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Layla rolls her eyes. “Not even a little bit,” she says and walks down the tunnel.

“Stop right there,” a small voice says a moment later. A girl steps out of the shadows, a knife brandished in her hand. When she sees Layla, she visibly relaxes.

“Oh, it’s you.” The girl tosses her knife in the air and catches the handle. She does it again. “Shouldn’t sneak up on people, Layla, even if it is your mu-”

“April,” Layla interrupts. “I’ve got a newbie. April, Javin. Javin, April”

I reach out and grasp her arm. She looks me up and down before her hand wraps around my forearm. It’s hard to look away from her eyes. I’ve never seen anything like them. Her irises are a bright violet. Almost glowing. I know that women in the Delphast wear makeup. This must be something like that.

“April’s on guard duty,” Layla tells me. “Keeping an eye on our tunnel and making sure we’re safe.”

Aprils giggles. It’s a very childish sound. I wonder how old she is. Twelve? Thirteen? The knife makes her look older. So do her clothes. Like Layla she seems to be wearing versions of above grounders clothing, just in an unusual way. Her black pants have more tears than material. Her shirt looks like one of the veils the women wore, wrapped over and over again. It’s colder down here than above ground. She wears a coat similar to the one my dad wears.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Most gangs keep to their own,” Layla says. “and you saw how spread out the place is. Even if you knew where we were, you might never find us. Just in case though we always keep a guard on the two entrances. April, you mind running ahead and letting everyone know we have a newbie? They should all be on their best behavior, eh?”

“Sure,” she says, sticking the knife into waistband of her pants. I can see the blade though one of the tears. “Nice to meet you, Javin.” She takes off down the tunnel.

“Hey treeboy,” Layla says, slapping me lightly on the arm. “Remember rule number one? No staring.” She waves her hand in front of her eyes. “A lot of the kids you’re about to meet have a unique look, okay? Purple eyes are the least of it. Just try to ignore it.”

“Sure. No problem.” If ignoring colorful eyes is what it takes to get my brother back, I’m sure I can manage. We head down the tunnel.

“Home sweet home,” Layla announces when we enter a large cavern with sloping sides. Rocks have fallen off the walls in large chunks and there are several small shallows in the wall. The crumbled remains of an aqueduct system divides the cavern in half. Only five arches remain. It’s not the look of the cavern that shocks me. It’s the kids. There are people perched all over the shallows in the walls. Learning against rocks. Cooking something in a large iron pot. Lying on mats. There are at least thirty of them crammed into this cavern. And every pair of eyes is on me.

“Listen up!” Layla calls from beside me. She walks into the center of the cave. “I’ve got someone new for you all to torture.” There are several chuckles and even a few whistles. “He’s from the Forsyth where all he had was trees for company. I’m sure you’ll show him the ropes.” There are more laughs. “Why don’t you all say hello?”

What have I gotten myself into? A mob of kids forms around me. It seems that everyone wants to say hello. These aren’t the kids I grew up with. They are dirty, skinny and tough. They are dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, black leather pants that look like they belonged to guards, jackets with high buttons that we wore in the Forsyth, brightly colored scarves I saw the aboveground ladies wearing. As I take in the crowd, I realize why Layla told me not to stare and it has nothing to do with how they’re dressed. There is something odd about almost every kid.

One guy introduces himself as Kyle. He is blind with a layer of thin skin where his eyes should be. Another girl, named Lana, has a shaved head, darting eyes and can’t seem to stay still for more than a second. The more kids I meet the more I notice the pattern. Everyone is a little off. One of the tallest kids is completely devoid of color. His white skin and hair are almost translucent.

There are so many kids that say hello to me, I quickly lose track of the names. Only a few stand out. One burly boy, about my age, introduces himself as Noah. Half of his face is dead, one eye closed and part of his mouth droops down in a frown. He sticks out his hand and claps my forearm. When I touch his skin, I get a shock and let go. I even see a tiny, blue bolt jump from his arm to mine.

“Oh, sorry friend,” Noah says, half his mouth smiling. “That always happens with me.”

After Noah the blonde boy that talked to Layla above ground comes forward. “We weren’t properly introduced,” he says, giving me a funny little salute. “I’m Zeak.” He’s one of the most normal looking ones or, I guess, odd in his perfect features and golden hair. Sarsa comes forward next. When she grasps my forearm, I know it will bruise. I can barely stop myself from grimacing as I return the shake, gripping her muscular arm. She towers above me.

“Alright kids,” Layla says while I rub the spot Sarsa held my arm. Layla flaps her arms to shoo the crowd away. “Let’s give Javin some space, eh?” Everyone returns to what they were doing. I stare blankly at Layla. “I know, it’s a lot,” she says. “You’ll get used to the Haunt.”

“The what?”

“The Haunt, it’s what we call ourselves. What we call this place too. Pretty soon you’ll be one of the family, eh?”

I’m not sure I want to be a part of a family like this, but I don’t tell Layla that. “I know I’m not supposed to ask questions and you told me not to stare, but…” I’m not sure how to phrase it, “some of the kids look a bit…well a bit odd.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Layla says. “A lot of them have lived underground their whole lives. Not enough food. Little sunlight. They're good kids though.”

“Of course.” I drop the topic because I can tell it’s making Layla nervous. I’ve practically just met her, but already I can tell she’s not easily rattled. I look around the cavern at the dozens of kids sitting against the walls or standing and talking. I know Layla told me I had to wait, that I had to earn my place here, earn the information. Still, as I look around the cavern at the pale faces, the strange oddities of each kid, I can’t help but wonder what it is that Layla is keeping from me and what in the gods it has to do with Evan.