Page 45 of Katya and the Young God
Katya steps further into the room, and the glow stick casts long shadows, dreamlike in a way she has seldom experienced. Dreamlike in a way one sees in movies, in books, not in real life.
The air of the room whispers around her, soft as a caress.
“How many people died so this room could have decorations?” Rory asks, voice matter-of-fact, a hard question that Katya doesn’t want to know the answer to. “There must be the bones of hundreds, if not thousands.”
“We can hope they were already dead,” Pieter says, final. “We can hope they didn’t have to die to get here.”
Charlotte looks like she’s going to snap at him, but instead turns away, and Katya catches the small twist of sadness on Pieter’s face when she does.
Unless she’s projecting, but there seems to be real sadness on his face, real distress at this. Real regret.
She remembers his words, that they have much bigger things to worry about if the seal requires death, but with an absence of more information she doesn’t quite know how to interpret it. How it figures into the overall magic of the place, into whatever power they’re about to find, or in whatever is sapping his power dry. Whatever has the ability to sap the power from a Demigod, arguably one of the strongest classes of being still in existence, is nothing she wants to tangle with.
Miri had once made an offhand comment that her Archdemon boyfriend might be more powerful than a Demigod, but that’s all unproven theory, theory that Katya had hoped to never put to use.
So she studies Pieter, in the odd glow surrounding them. He’s no longer keeping her studiously in front of him, like he trusts her a hair more, like their three-day journey has shaken something a little bit loose, but he moves through the cave with a hunch to his shoulder, the bearing of a man who is much weaker than he has any right to pretend to be.
* * *
Past the grand cavern,the trail twists and leads itself to a point that they have to walk one by one, and it’s hard, sweaty work. The tips of her broad shoulders graze the bones imbedded into the stone on either side of the path, and if she believed in any religion, she would send up a prayer for all the bones they’re casually brushing up against.
The air grows damper, but the bones are still pristine and white, no sign of mold. But they crumple like old bone when she brushes up against them, and by the time they’re halfway through the tunnel everyone’s covered with a thin layer of dust, white and haunting.
* * *
After a good fourhours of walking, the room opens up, and glittering crystals extend down from the ceiling like deadly spikes, and Katya draws up short of entering.
“Let's stop for food,” she says, and her voice echoes weirdly, like it hits every stone and bounces off like the lights on their helmets.
No one protests, and her shoulder gives a sharp pang the moment she swings her bag off, like it was waiting until it wasn’t actively in use before hurting.
Feketer finds her immediately, and Pieter drifts close soon after. “So this is the spike room,” Feketer says, only a small bit of irony in his voice. “Any idea what this haze is?”
Pieter gives him just the most haughty, offended look, which tells Katya that he has no clue. “I’m just surprised that a Pixie isn’t strong enough to sense it.”
“I haven’t felt anything distinct since we came across the seal,” Feketer says, and it’s just vague enough that she has to assume he’s felt something, just not anything he wants them to know about. “And I think it’s intentional by whoever built this place.”
Katya sits back, leaning against her pack, content to let them argue and learn.
Pieter grins, but it’s not a nice smile, and she has to look away. “And you haven’t felt the river of blood that once ran through here?” He asks, sharp.
Feketer hesitates, visibly unnerved. “Pixies don’t deal with blood, usually.”
“Gods do,” Pieter says, fast.
“Humans do,” Katya chimes in, and they both look at her with raised eyebrows. “Who do you think wages most wars on this planet?”
Feketer leans back against his pack. “Have your human senses picked anything up?” He asks, heavily skeptical.
She feels like she’s being tested, and she probably is. “I can tell you that the hallway was created with unnatural means, while most of the cave before it was with stone tools,” she starts. “That the giant mural on the floor of the large cave shows an understanding of the human body that was not prevalent until well after when this cave should have been sealed. That there are runes stopping sound and stopping light in nearly every room. That it causes pretty severe unease in all non-humans,” she gestures at them, “since we passed the seal, without any obvious changes to humans.”
Feketer looks away midway through her small speech. “You really are more perceptive than you let on, aren’t you.”
“Yes,” she answers simply, and sees Pieter hide a smile.
“I thought you were sent to die, not sent to actually get information,” Feketer says, like that’s the ridiculous part of all of this.
“You might be right,” she says, digging in her pack for her Advil. “But I’m going to see what’s at the end of this cave and report back, regardless of what they actually expect me to do.”