“I do.”
I turn in his arms. Look up at him. In the dim crimson light, his features are harsh, alien—but his eyes hold something soft. Something that belongs only to me.
I rise on my toes and kiss him. Hard, fast, everything I have. Fear and fury and love in one sharp beat.
“We need to move,” I manage.
“We do,” he agrees.
We walk on. His hand stays locked in mine.
THIRTY-FIVE
IMARA
The junction is a circular chamber where multiple drainage channels converge.
Tomek is waiting.
He’s brought more supplies—fresh water, additional rations, and a stack of papers covered in cramped handwriting. Maps. Schedules. Intelligence gathered over years of careful observation.
“You made it.” He doesn’t sound surprised. “Good time.”
“The tunnels are—” I search for words.
“I know.” He spreads the papers on a flat stone near the basin’s edge. “You get used to it. Or you don’t. Either way, you push forward.”
Kharvek positions himself at my shoulder, one hand resting on my lower back. The touch is casual. Possessive. A reminder that I’m not alone down here.
“What do you have for us?”
Tomek walks us through the intelligence. Patrol schedules for the last week—the Matron has doubled security on the upper levels but left the underlevels almost unguarded. Ward configurations—stronger near the Womb Chamber, weaker inthe service corridors. Attendant rotations—who’s loyal, who’s merely afraid, who might be persuaded to look the other way.
“The Chamber itself is the problem.” He taps a section of the map. “She’s been in there since the pit. Not coming out. Not even to feed.”
“Feed?”
“The Matron doesn’t eat anymore. Hasn’t for decades. She sustains herself on harvested life-force.” Tomek’s expression darkens. “Usually she takes it from the stock in controlled amounts. But lately she’s been… consuming. Whole people at once. Burning through her reserves to fuel something big.”
I exchange a glance with Kharvek. His jaw is tight.
“She’s preparing for us.”
“She’s preparing for something.” Tomek pulls out a small iron key. “Whatever it is, you’ll need to get past her defenses to stop it. This opens the service corridors that connect to the Chamber’s maintenance passages. It won’t get you all the way in, but it’ll get you close.”
I reach for the key.
Tomek’s hand closes over mine before I can take it. His eyes are intense. Urgent.
“There’s something else you need to know.” He lowers his voice. “About the weapon. About where he came from.”
Kharvek goes still at my back.
“What are you talking about?”
“The genealogy records. I’ve had access to them for years—part of maintaining the infrastructure, keeping the breeding charts updated.” Tomek’s gaze flicks to Kharvek. “His lineage isn’t what the Matron claims. He’s not bred from selected stock. He’s?—”
A sound cuts him off. Distant. Echoing.
