CHAPTER 7

That’s my cue. First, my knapsack goes flying and crashes into the dry shrubs behind Kalos and the third Godtouched. Every last twig cracks like a log on fire. The second part of my plan is less finely tuned, but it involves something I have some experience in. Darting like a snake, my staff reaches through the bushes and smacks against the side of Rao’s knee, which, mercifully, buckles.

He falls to the ground with cries of ‘Ambush!’

I only wait for Rev to jump in, snapping branches on her way, before running off. The path here is no path at all, but a rabbit trail. Every shrub and thorn in the Barrows snags my bootlaces, tears at my clothes, and slices my skin open. But the din of the Godtouched continues only a moment, and then is swallowed by the woods. In a while, panting, spitting thick globs of saliva, incredulous that we made it, we stop. For a full minute, all we do is breathe.

“Creep worms?” I ask between gulps of air.

“Shuddup,” Rev coughs. “You lost our supplies.”

“Sure,” I said. “But creep worms?”

“Best I could come up with on short notice. Next time I’ll say spooky foundlings will make their milk sour overnight.”

I frown at the allusion and Rev punches my shoulder.

“Oh, don’t be so touchy. It’s a joke. Come on. We have to move.”

We keep our ears perked up for signs of the Godtouched, but none come. The rabbit trail ends shortly after on a low ridge, which we climb down to find ourselves on a rocky area where boulders, rolled down from the top of the hill eons ago, cluster against each other like balls in a children’s game. We pick our way carefully among the rough granite, choosing a path at mostly random. We remain alert for any sounds that might signify danger, but the hills sound only deep and empty. Still, we proceed cautiously. It won’t do to be spotted by the Godtouched or a roaming monster now.

In the lead, Rev stops me with a raised hand. I freeze, listening intently, but can detect nothing rushing through the undergrowth, no cries of alarm. I stand still, a statue until she signals, and then move up to see what she sees.

It’s another hole leading into the darkness of the deep earth. But where most hill doors are little more than grottoes where a grown man would have trouble standing up straight, this one looks like a doorway built for giants. Two boulders lean on each other, ominous and uninviting, blocking all light from travelling inside. In front of the doorway, in a little clearing, are the trappings of a shoddy encampment. A circle of stones issues a little wisp of smoke. Two tents, hastily erected, flap in the wind, with another collapsed on the ground. There is an empty tankard next to the remains of last night’s fire from which leaks a trickle of liquid. Everything else is as still as the grave.

“You think it’s the Godtouched’s encampment?” I whisper.

“Has to be,” Rev says.

We stand on the edge of the path, not daring to step forward into the clearing, afraid to walk away and abandon a bounty of food and supplies. There has to be a trap, because nothing is ever this easy. We search for clues of foul play and listen to hints of what might be in wait.

“Well…” Rev says, breaking the silence. “We do need supplies. Water, at least. We’re a day away from leaving the hills. You all right with this?”

I nod. Stealing from Godtouched would have been unthinkable only a few days ago. But when Rev suggests it, I find it comes to me quite naturally.

“All right. Be quick about it, though.”

We emerge on tiptoe and dedicate the first few moments to a more thorough search for alarms and traps, but again turn up nothing. The camp displays the lack of care only the very unprepared can muster. It looks abandoned. It isn’t long before we shrug to each other and dig into the tents, tossing out anything of value we can find.

There isn’t a lot. Rev uncovers a half-filled waterskin and hard rations, and I find a coil of rope under the collapsed tent. As I drag a blanket from inside another one, something tumbles off it and clinks into the light of day. Both Rev and I snap to attention, turning to the object, ready to run at the slightest provocation.

But it’s only a small glass vial, corked and filled with a ruby liquid. We peer at it for a moment, hesitant, then Rev nods and I reach down and pocket it. You never know.

I take a final walk around the perimeter of the camp. There is a narrow trail that hugs the side of the boulder and continues in a vaguely northern direction. I’m looking down it, trying to determine whether it will lead us where we want to go, when I catch a quick flash of light coming from a tree. I hesitate, and then the flash repeats, blue against brown and green. Something has been carved into the tree’s mossy bark. It looks like writing, but none I’ve ever seen before, too elaborate, depicting a single mysterious letter, intricate and complex. As I watch, it blinks again, a quick violet flash.

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“Uh…” I begin. “Rev?”

As soon as she turns to me, I see her eyes go wide and fixed, staring over my shoulder into the path behind.

There is a man standing in the mouth of the clearing. He has sharp, angular features and his hair is pure white, though his face is young. Leather armor hugs his strong body. He stands nonchalantly, arms crossed, tutting slightly.

“A reminder for the future,” he says. “When you’re planning on robbing your betters, make sure they don’t have alarms in place. It will go much better for you.”

I don’t need to hear his voice to know it’s Rao.

Before we can answer, there is a series of clinks and clanks and another Godtouched, a man in disproportionate armor, appears behind him, huffing heavily. Rao spares him a single look of disdain before he turns back to me and his hand descends to wrap around the hilt of a knife strapped to his belt.

“Malco, run!” Rev yells.

I don’t need to be told twice. My sister dashes to the trail that took us here, and I jump after her, pumping my legs as fast as I can manage.

We can lose them in the bushes. We can—

Rev stops right on the edge of the clearing, so suddenly that I slam into her. A moment later, the third Godtouched emerges from the opening, blocking us off and advancing with long, eager strides. We back up into the middle of the camp.

“Let us go,” Rev says, her voice firm. With subtle twists of her hips, she keeps herself between me and the Godtouched, trying to keep all three in her field of vision. “We give you your stuff back, you let us be. No harm no foul.”

Rao’s mouth curls into a sneer.

“I have a better proposition,” he says. “You stick around to keep us company. We put the kid’s head on a stick to ward off other little thieves. We take our things back anyway. How does that sound?”

“Rao…” the Godtouched in armor starts.

“Kalos, you shut the hell up right now. I’m not the mood.”

Kalos does. It’s clear who’s in charge here.

They box us in from three sides, not letting up an inch, forcing us to retreat into the yawning mouth of the granite hill door, which starts to envelop us. I stop like I backed up against a physical wall. A life in the Barrows will teach you, if nothing else, one simple maxim: Don’t Go Into the Hill Doors. It could mean your life.

Right now, the odds feel even either way.

Rao darts forward. It’s only a quick burst, but we both jump back. He laughs.

“One thing you should consider,” he says, speaking exclusively to Rev. “It will be quicker and less painful if you just give in. Don’t make me work for it.”

I feel Rev’s hand tapping against the pack in her bag and grabbing for the long, mysterious object wrapped in leather. The cover falls away, and, with a slither, Rev releases Medrein’s sword from its scabbard and points it straight at Rao’s nose. She plants her feet in a warrior’s pose, one I’ve seen her strike up a thousand times in practice. The threat only makes Rao snicker.

“You’re making me work for it,” he warns with a smile.

Rev is a very good fighter. She’ll be a great one in a few more years. But great is great, and Godtouched are Godtouched.

“Say, that is a nice sword,” says Kalos. He seems to have lost his earlier scruples. His eyes are fixed on the blade, showing a mix of curiosity and greed. He presses forward and Rev retreats again, pushing us deeper into the shadow of the hill door.

“Go,” Rev hisses. “Up the path. I’ll hold them off.”

“No way,” I answer.

“Do it!”

It’s cool in the tunnel, and humid, but just being inside the opening fills me with dread. Do Not Go Inside The Hill Doors flashes in my mind repeated by a hundred different voices, Dala’s foremost among them. A cold breeze makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. It comes from inside the cave.

I can’t leave Rev. I can’t. But if I die here, Katha will be forced into the Challenge and die there. I wrack my brain and come up empty. My hand dives into my pocket, brushes against the hilt of my knife, which seems much more ridiculous a weapon now than when I pocketed it a few days ago. My fingers itch, search, and close around a cold surface.

“Come on, honey,” says Rao. “If you come with us, we’ll even let the little runt go.”

“Screw you,” Rev spits. “Come nearer and I’ll cut your—”

A sound. A tinkle. So small, but unusual enough to make everyone stop and wonder what it is, where it comes from. Rao’s eyes fixate on me and his expression stills before becoming a mask of fury.

I’m holfin the ruby potion against the rock. A desperate bid. Hopefully the correct one.

“You left it in camp?” Kalos says. I can’t see his face, but he sounds incredulous.

“Kid,” Rao says through gritted teeth. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Give me that.”

“I don’t think so,” I answer.

Rao takes a step forward, and I tap the vial against the rock again. The ruby liquid sloshes against the glass wall and Rao stops in his tracks.

“One more step,” I say, very slowly. “And I smash this thing.”

“Don’t smash it!” Kalos yells. “We quested for that!”

Rev walks back until she’s pressing against her shoulder against my hand. She’s trembling slightly, but Medrein’s sword stands resolutely pointed, unwavering.

“Tell you what,” I say. “We’re going inside—”

“We’re not going inside!” Rev hisses.

“We’re going inside,” I repeat. “And you’re going to stay right there. When we’re far enough, I’ll throw this at you. You make one move before that and you’ll be lapping whatever this is off the ground. Understood?”

“We can’t see you,” Rao snarls. “How will we know when you throw?”

“You won’t. You’ll just have to be quick.” I take another step back.

“What are you doing?” Rev asks as we back up. “We’ll die here!”

“We’ll die anyway!” I say. “At least this way we have a shot.”

We keep going. I look back, but there is nothing to see except darkness. I keep my hand closed around the vial, dragging my knuckles on the granite to orient myself. The ground slopes down slightly, and my back hits against hard rock. It’s a split-off point, standing between two passages, two spans of void. The breeze issues from the one to my right.

“One more thing,” I say, taking Rev by the arm. “Something you should be aware of.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not tossing them anything. Come on.”

I tug, pulling Rev into the breezy tunnel, hoping I’m making the right decision. We hurry as fast as we dare down it, thrown in complete darkness. The tunnel splits again and again, and each time we follow the cold air, hoping it will lead us back to the surface. We ignore the fact that we keep going down, plunging deeper and deeper into the earth.

It’s quite a while before we hear Rao’s cry of rage and know for certain that the hunt is on.