Chapter Ten

 

Malcolm drifted in and out of consciousness. Each time that his mind started to clear, and he felt himself starting to come back to awareness, he clawed for it, trying to grasp reality and bring himself fully into it. There was pain there, sharp, intense pain, and he concentrated on it, letting the force of it stop him from slipping deeper into the unconsciousness. It began to work. He could feel himself becoming more aware and started trying to evaluate his surroundings. As the moments of wakefulness became longer and the periods of unconsciousness changed from blackness to shady, tremulous grey, the last several hours began to piece themselves back together.

He could feel the cold metal of the shackles around his wrists, the cuffs tight enough that they were cutting into his skin where they hung over his head. His shirt had been removed and his back and chest stung viciously from the lingering effects of the lashes administered by the charcoal-masked member of the Order. His shoulders ached from the weight of his body dangling from the ceiling of the dungeon, his feet on the ground just enough that he could push down into the tips of his toes to relieve some of the pressure, but not enough that he was actually able to stand. He didn’t have any real perception of how long he had been hanging there. Falling unconscious had taken the time away from him, making it so that he didn’t know if he had been there only a matter of the hours that he thought, or if it could have been days that had stretched on in the time that he had been there. He knew that the longer that he had been there, the more danger that he was facing. Every minute that passed while he was in the dungeon was another minute closer to death. If Athan hadn’t figured out where he was and come for him, it was possible that he wouldn’t be able to find him before the Panel decided that they had tired of torturing him and brought him for execution.

Malcolm struggled against the shackles and grimaced as he felt the metal cuff cut further into his wrist, pushing on the skin as if it was going to shear it from the bones of his hands. He felt exhausted and as hard as he fought, he still felt himself slipping back into unconsciousness. The tingling started in his legs, his feet growing heavy and cold, and moved up his body as if creeping toward his head, ready to take him. He couldn’t let it happen. If he allowed himself to be taken by the darkness again, that would be it. There would be no hope for him then. He had to fight. He had to stay awake. As long as he was conscious, he had at least a chance. As long as he was aware, he could resist. He was fully aware that it might not keep him alive, but the harder that he resisted, the harder that he fought, the more time that it gave the rebellion a chance to find him. At least then he wouldn’t have just disappeared. His death could be a sign of what the corruption had done to the Order, a demonstration of what they were willing to do to those who opposed them.

The thought moved through his mind and he immediately forced it away. Even that thought was surrendering, giving in to what they were doing to him. It was no better than the way that they had perceived him before he had chosen to defect. The Panel believed that his body and blood belonged to the Order, that his birth had offered him as a tribute not in spirit but in existence, to whatever they thought was their role in the Universe and his duty within it. He had defected to stop that, to prevent them from having total control over him and forcing him into actions that he didn’t believe in. He had to continue that. He refused to give them himself in life, and now he wouldn’t permit them to have him in death.

Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment and stretched up, moving his hands so that he could grasp onto the chains that hung from the ceiling. Though this caused his wrists to throb, it took some of the pressure off of his shoulders. This took away some of the tearing, pulling pain, clearing his mind slightly so that he could turn his thoughts to Icelyn. He had been imagining her face and the sound of her voice as much as he could since he had been captured, but now he had something different on his mind. He thought not just of how much he loved her and how he needed to pull through this to be with her, but rather what she had told him and what needed to be overcome in order for him to have the privilege of being with her.

Being with Icelyn was not just that they happened to find each other or even that Athan put them together out of necessity and they were fortunate enough to find love. Their bond, their marriage, was made possible by the sacrifice and courage of many people before them. They were a testament to the lives that her parents had lived and the deaths that they had suffered, to the bravery that her grandfather showed when he offered himself into exile and chose to remain there rather than emerging when the original plans that they had didn’t work out the way that they intended. Malcolm knew that he and Icelyn coming together was far more than just an abounding, passionate love. It was resistance and refusal to submit, and he couldn’t give up on that. He had to keep going. He had to stay strong.

 

****

“How long has he been gone?” Mhavrych asked, stalking toward Ellora’s house.

He was moving so quickly that Icelyn and Athan were falling behind him, but he couldn’t slow down. There wasn’t a single second to waste and they would simply have to catch up.

“We’re not sure,” Athan said.

“Since after training,” Icelyn added. “I went to look for him and Brayden told me that Malcolm mentioned that he was going to Athan’s house to talk to him. He said that somebody told him that Athan wanted to talk to him and that he was supposed to meet him there.”

“Who told him that?”

“He didn’t know.”

Mhavrych ran up the steps of the house and opened the door without knocking. He moved through the house as quickly as he could, heading directly for the war room.

“You said that you saw members of the Order in the orchard when you went there to pick fruit.”

“Yes,” Icelyn said. “Ellora sent me to the orchard and when I was picking fruit and nuts I felt like someone was watching me. When I looked up, I saw an Order member staring at me from behind a tree.”

“Was he the only one?”

“No. There were at least three others. I didn’t know how many there were before I ran.”

“What exactly did he say to you?”

“That he needed to be sure to congratulate Malcolm on our marriage.”

Mhavrych’s blood felt like it had run cold. He knew that those words could mean only one thing. They had been extremely careful not to be seen by anyone when they were heading to the creek for the ceremony, and had told no one but Theia and Ellora about the marriage either before or after. If the member of the Order had mentioned the wedding when he was in the orchard, that meant that they had somehow found out that Malcolm was with them and that something was happening. They might not fully know what, but that was an even more frightening prospect than them completely understanding the plan that they had put in place. If the Order suspected that they had something planned but they didn’t know what, they would go to great lengths to find out, putting all of them in danger.

“We need to find him and get off of Uoria as fast as possible. We have to get away from here.”

Mhavrych went into the war room and grabbed three of the few remaining weapons.

“What are you doing?” Athan asked. “Why didn’t we go to the weapons arsenal in the meeting hall? There are far larger and more effective weapons than these there.”

“I know,” Mhavrych said, handing off weapons to Athan and to Icelyn, “but there is someone who gave information to the Order about Malcolm and who knew that Icelyn was going to be in the orchard. I don’t know who it could be, but the last thing that we need is for anyone to know what we are doing. We need to get Malcolm away from the Order and out of their reach without anyone being able to follow us or know what we are doing. Hopefully we won’t encounter any members while we are down there, but if we do, these weapons will have to be sufficient.”

Without any further explanation, Mhavrych moved past Athan and Icelyn and rushed up the stairs back into the house. He could hear them chasing after him and continued, knowing that Athan would know the way that he was going and would ensure Icelyn would get there along with him. Mhavrych couldn’t be responsible for watching over her. His responsibility in this moment was toward Malcolm. Though it sounded harsh, it was only Malcolm’s safety that he needed right then. Though he didn’t want to see Icelyn get hurt, what mattered was that they get Malcolm off of Uoria and to Casimir. Now that they were married, Malcolm was officially a male member of his descent, enabling him to release Casimir from his exile. Mhavrych’s sworn duty meant that he needed to do everything that he needed to do to protect those who were on the side of the truth, and that meant Casimir and Aegeus above all others. He would have to trust that Athan would be there to take care of Icelyn and guard her until she could be safe after all of this had come to an end.

Mhavrych paused for only a moment to listen down the hatch into the tunnels before dropping down into the darkness of the Order lair. The lights embedded in the ceiling turned on, filling the space with light, and he pushed himself against the wall, moving down it with his back pressed against the stone as fast as he could. He was several feet down the tunnel when Athan and Icelyn dropped down with him and started down after him. Mhavrych’s ears strained through the tunnels for any sound that might indicate that one of the Order members was coming. This was a section that was not as frequently used, but it was not entirely abandoned, and there was always a chance that someone would come this way or that the Panel would have assigned guards to all sections of the tunnels to watch for them to come for Mhavrych.

He knew that he couldn’t let himself hesitate. He had to move as fast as he could. He winced each time that the lights overhead changed colors, but soon he convinced himself to think of it in another way. Each time that the lights changed, it was a countdown, an indication that he was really moving, that he was getting closer to the dark tunnels. Finally, he saw the bend in the tunnels ahead and he knew that he was nearly there. Mhavrych glanced back over his shoulder to check the progress of Athan and Icelyn. Both were close behind, holding the weapons that he had handed him tightly. Mhavrych expected Icelyn to look terrified, but she didn’t. Instead, she stared ahead of her with an intense concentration on her face, her eyes unblinking and unmoving as she made her way toward him. Mhavrych could see the love she had for Malcolm there, the loyalty that she felt for her grandfather, and the determination that she held to not let the death of her parents be in vain.

Ahead of him Mhavrych heard a sudden sound. It was indistinct, not a footstep. Not a voice. He paused, holding up his hand to stop Athan and Icelyn, then bringing his finger to his lips to ensure that they didn’t speak. He strained his ears and a few seconds later heard the sound again. Mhavrych started toward it, following the low scraping until it guided him around the bend in the tunnel and into the darkened portion. There were no lights in the ceiling in this section of the tunnels. Here there was no indication that someone was moving through them or how far that they had traveled. The only illumination that anyone would have when going through this section of the lair would be a torch or lightstick that they carried with them. Mhavrych realized that he had brought neither, concentrating so completely on bringing weapons and getting down into the lair as fast as he could that he didn’t even think about the need that they would have to illuminate the space around them. He would have to travel by memory and his senses, trusting that he would be able to remember how to move into the depths of the lair without being able to see around him.

He paused long enough to allow Athan and Icelyn to catch up.

“Stay close,” he whispered. “It’s incredibly dark in there and there are twists and chambers that you won’t be able to get yourself out of if you get in before the others notice.”

They drew closer to him and he started moving down the tunnel again, his hands pressed back against the wall to feel his way. Icelyn stood between the two men and he could feel her close enough to him that she would be able to detect all of his movements. This was reassuring, helping him to feel more confident that she wouldn’t slip into one of the hidden chambers or traps that were scattered throughout the dark areas of the lair. Mhavrych led them down the tunnel, following the curves carefully for a few moments before he paused and listened for the strange sound again. It remained silent long enough that he nearly continued on before he heard it again. It still sounded like a low scraping, uneven, unmeasured. He listened for the direction of the sound and then continued toward it.

His feet were carrying him faster now, bringing him deeper into the dark section. This was an area that most members of the Order never saw. Many didn’t even know that it existed. The temperature was colder here, the air damp and filled with the smell of the earth that made up the walls and floor. To those who had never been in this section of the lair, it would seem untouched, as if there was nothing here. Many would turn around and try to make their way back to the brightly lit section rather than trying to move further. This was the intention of the Order. The hope was that there would be enough dread and hesitation that it would prevent those who might wander into this area unauthorized from getting deep enough that it might compromise the intended use of this section. The hidden chambers and traps, including sheer drops that occurred just inches beyond the threshold of doors that seemed exactly the same as any of the other doors, were meant to handle those who didn’t turn back.

They made it through the damp earthen section of the tunnels and Mhavrych turned into a section that was still dark but was back to being floored and walled with stone. They were close to the place where he had found Ellora and the sound of the scraping was starting to materialize in his mind, familiar enough now that he thought he might know what it was. He sped up, knowing that it was safe now to pull out in front of Athan and Icelyn. There were no more traps or twisting, puzzle-like chambers that might put them in danger. All they needed to do was continue to follow the sound of his steps on the stone floor and they would be able to stay in his path.

The scraping sound grew louder and Mhavrych listened for any other indication that there might be someone else in this area. The risk was highest here. If there was going to be someone who had been assigned to guarding Malcolm, this was the section where they were most likely to be. The section seemed quiet and he chose to take a further risk.

“Malcolm?” he called out in a low hiss, loud enough that anyone in any of the chambers on either side of him for the next several feet might hear, but not so loud that his voice would reverberate through the entire section of the tunnels. “Malcolm?”

There was no response and he continued further down the tunnels, his fingers trailing the walls on either side so that their tips felt the cold metal as he progressed.

 

****

Malcolm thought that he heard his name coming through the cold darkness, but he didn’t know if it was truly a voice or if it was his own mind creating the sound out of desperation. He listened harder, not wanting to make any sound for fear that one of the members of the Order was close and his sounds would indicate that he was not only alive, but conscious, enticing them to come in again.

“Malcolm?”

He was sure that he had heard his name that time and the voice sounded like Mhavrych. Cautious relief filled him, and he tilted his head back to send his voice through the darkness in the direction of his name.

“I’m here,” he called.

It was more difficult to force the words out than he expected it to be, and Malcolm worried that it wasn’t loud enough to be heard. He drew in a breath, knowing he needed to get past the pain, beyond the exhaustion. He needed to take everything that was within him and be heard.

“I’m here,” he called again, knowing his voice sounded stronger and louder now. “I’m here. Mhavrych, I’m here.”

“Malcolm!”

The voice was different. That wasn’t Mhavrych calling out to him. The sweet, tenderness of that voice belonged to Icelyn. Knowing that she was close gave Malcolm enough of a boost that allowed him to grasp the chains that held him harder, pulling himself up so that he could call out more loudly.

“Here!” he said. “I’m here!”

Seconds later he heard the sound of footsteps coming toward him. The rhythm of the footfalls told him that there were three people and he could only hope that it was Athan. Though Malcolm had come to understand that Mhavrych knew things about the Order that others didn’t know, Malcolm knew that Athan was far higher in the hierarchy than he himself was and found comfort in the familiar knowledge of Athan. Unlike his thoughts on the training, preferring the leadership of Theia and Creia to Athan, when it came to being in the Order lair, he felt reassured that Athan was near.

“Malcolm, are you in here?”

Mhavrych’s voice sounded only feet away and Malcolm knew that they had finally found him. He had survived. At least for now, he had more of a chance.

“Yes,” he said, his voice powdery with relief. “I’m here.”

“Is there a torch here?”

“I don’t know. They brought the light out with them.”

“Who?” Athan asked.

“I don’t know. They were masked.”

“I found one!”

Icelyn’s voice from further in the room was another wash of soothing, cooling relief and he leaned his head toward it was if that would draw him closer to her. Malcolm heard Athan and Mhavrych walk toward her voice and a few moments later he heard the sound of a flint on the stone wall and then saw a spark of flame. The light seemed to sizzle in the blackness, burning away the edges of the darkness until he could see Mhavrych’s face in the space that it created. Mhavrych held the torch up above his head, allowing the light to spread further, and Malcolm felt it touch his face. He lifted his head higher and saw Mhavrych’s jaw tighten. Icelyn gasped and for the first time Malcolm wished that she wasn’t there. As much as he wanted to be near her and as much as her presence comforted him, he didn’t want her to have to see him like this.

In an instant, Athan rushed across the room and Malcolm felt the older man’s arm around his waist, supporting him so that the chains went slack and the shackles stopped cutting into his wrists. Mhavrych handed the torch over to Icelyn and stepped up to Malcolm, reaching above his head to where the shackle cuffs were latched closed. He released the latches, each step of the complex process feeling as though it took far longer than it should have. The fact that the latches had no keys was meant as an additional layer of torment for whatever prisoner found himself trapped in them. Knowing that the cuffs weren’t locked was torturous. There was nothing keeping him in the shackles but his inability to turn his hands enough to access the series of curved clasps that made up the latch. Finally, the latches released, and Malcolm felt his hands fall out of the shackles. The pain in his shoulders intensified sharply as his arms dropped forward and the muscles of his shoulders were finally allowed to relax.

Malcolm’s feet touched the floor fully and he tried to support his weight, but his legs seemed to give out on him. Athan caught him as his body fell forward and he felt the man sweep him up, sharing the weight of his body with Mhavrych as they turned and started out of the chamber. Icelyn followed with the torch and Malcolm felt that he had never been so thankful for something so simple as light. They made their way down the tunnel at a fast pace, but suddenly he felt Mhavrych stop. His hand grasped onto Athan’s arm for a moment to indicate that they were changing direction and they turned into one of the other chambers on the tunnel. When they were inside, Mhavrych reached for the torch. From his position over Athan’s shoulder, Malcolm could see Mhavrych take the torch from Icelyn’s hand and press it to the wall. The fire briefly flashed and then extinguished, sending them back into darkness. For a moment Malcolm felt a surge of panic, but then his ears pricked at the sound of muffled voices somewhere in the distance. They grew louder rapidly, and he could hear each word accented by heavy footsteps.

“Be quiet,” Mhavrych said in a whisper that was nearly inaudible.

Malcolm’s heart pounded in his chest and he felt sick to his stomach as he listened to the Order members drawing closer. This wasn’t just about him. If they found him, it would no longer just be him that was at their mercy. He couldn’t bear the thought of Icelyn experiencing anything like what he had. The footsteps were loud enough now that he knew the Order members were only feet away. He listened as they passed by the door, holding his breath so that they wouldn’t hear each shuddering exhalation. He wished that he could reach for Icelyn, just so that he could feel her skin. The seconds that it took for the footsteps to make their way past the door and fade as they got further down the tunnel seemed to stretch and drag, but at least they were over, and Malcolm knew that this was their only chance.

They rushed forward, and he heard Icelyn fall into step behind the men who carried him. He wanted to run. He wanted to support his own weight and not force the other men to carry him to his escape, but he knew that this was the fastest way that they were going to be able to get out. They had only been out of the chamber for a few moments when Malcolm heard the disheartening sound of voices coming back up the tunnel toward them. They were louder now, angry and frantic. It was obvious that they had discovered that he was no longer shackled in the dungeon. Mhavrych muttered something fierce and he felt the support that he had been offering him disappear as if the other man had stepped away from the rest of their group. A moment later Malcolm saw the light of the torch return. He felt Mhavrych return to help Athan carry him and soon their pace had increased again.

The footsteps behind them were growing louder, but Malcolm felt more nervous when they left the stone section of the tunnels and entered the damp, earthen section. This was a more dangerous section and he worried that Mhavrych would become distracted and they would become lost while trying to escape.

“This way,” Mhavrych suddenly said.

“No,” Athan said. “We’re not there yet. We have to go further.”

“This way,” Mhavrych insisted again, seeming to confirm Malcolm’s fears as the man tried to guide them away from the tunnel that Malcolm knew would lead them out of the lair. “You need to trust me.”

Athan relented and they turned sharply, going into one of the chambers. Immediately Malcolm could feel that this was not a place where they were supposed to be. Rather than feeling like they were making any sort of progress through the tunnels, he felt like they were starting to spiral, curving in on themselves and heading upwards. He didn’t want to know what was waiting when they reached the pinnacle of the curve. Despite them dipping into this hidden section of the tunnels, Malcolm could still hear the voices and the footsteps. He felt as though they knew where they were. They were chasing them, pursuing them rather than looking for them.

“Up ahead of us there’s another door,” Mhavrych said. “We need to go through it.”

“That’s a trap,” Athan said.

“We have to go through it,” Mhavrych insisted. “They will be on top of us in a matter of seconds. We either go through the door, or we might as well turn around and hand ourselves over to them. What do you want to do?”

There was only a moment of pause.

“Icelyn, when I tell you to, extinguish the torch.”

“Won’t we need the light?” she asked.

“We might need the light,” Mhavrych told her, “but we won’t need the flame.”

They went ahead a few more moments and Malcolm heard Athan tell Icelyn to extinguish the flame. In the dark Malcolm was forced to focus in on the sound of the members of the Order closing in on them. They were close now, moving through the spiraling tunnel.

“Athan, I’m going to go first. I’ll be ready for Malcolm, then you come with Icelyn.”

“No,” Malcolm managed to say. “Icelyn doesn’t go last.”

“She has to,” Mhavrych said. “It’s the only way. You have to be safe.”

“I’ll be fine, my love,” Icelyn reassured him. “They don’t want me. They want you.”

Even through the bravery in her voice, Malcolm could hear the tilt that told him that she questioned what she had just said.

“Icelyn, hand me the torch.”

They ran only seconds longer before Malcolm hear Mhavrych announce that they had gotten to the door.

“Wait until you hear me,” Mhavrych said.

An instant later, Malcolm heard a distant low grunt and then Mhavrych’s voice.

“Alright, Athan. Send him down.”

“Malcolm,” Athan said into Malcolm’s ear. “I need you to relax. Whatever happens, just relax. Don’t struggle.”

The words weren’t reassuring, but Malcolm didn’t have a chance to think through them or react at all before he felt his body leave Athan’s arms and start to drop quickly through darkness. He wanted to scream, but he bit it back. Instead, he forced himself to look down and noticed the glow of the torch several feet away from where he was falling. He braced himself to hit the ground, but instead, he felt Mhavrych reach out and grasp him. Though he wasn’t able to truly catch him, the gesture was enough to absorb some of the shock of Malcolm’s fall as both men hit the ground together. Nearly as soon as he landed, he felt Mhavrych’s hands under his arms dragging him away from the spot. Mhavrych grabbed the torch out of the holder on the wall and rushed back to where Malcolm had landed.

“Athan, come down with Icelyn. I’m right here.”

Malcolm looked up through the glow of the torch and saw that they had fallen over a steep ledge, one of the traps integrated into this section of the tunnels. Though he knew that he had just weathered the fall, his stomach sank at the idea of Icelyn plummeting toward the ground. He saw her step up to the edge and look down at him. Her eyes were wide and the blade in her hand was shaking.

“You have to come down,” Mhavrych called up to her. “We have to get out.”

Icelyn was trembling and Malcolm pulled himself up. His legs still shook as he sat on his knees looking up at her.

“You can do it,” he called up. “I’m right here. I’m waiting for you right here.”

He flicked his gaze over to Athan, hoping to communicate what the older man needed to do. Malcolm could hear the voices over his head and knew that they had a matter of seconds. He looked at Athan more insistently and Athan gave a single nod. Understanding the intention of Malcolm’s look, he wrapped his arms around Icelyn and tipped them both off of the ledge. The blades that both held fell from their hands and Malcolm dove forward to push them out of the way, turning over onto his back just in time to catch Icelyn in his arms. The weight of her body hitting his took the breath from his lungs and pushed his raw wounds down into the ground, but he knew that he would endure that pain many times over to ensure that she was protected.

“Is everyone alright?” Athan asked.

“Where did they go?”

The voice directly overhead galvanized them and Icelyn scrambled off of Malcolm. He forced energy into his muscles, dragging himself up to his feet.

“Can you make it?” Mhavrych asked. “The passages from here are too small for us to carry you through.”

Malcolm nodded.

“Go,” he said. “I can make it. Just go.”

“I have to make sure that you make it through,” Mhavrych said. “It is my duty to make sure that you get out of here safely.”

“But the three of you need to get out,” Malcolm said. “This is all because of my decision. This isn’t about you. If anyone is going to get out, it should be you.”

“This is about us,” Mhavrych said. “This is not just about your decision. There is more happening than you know, but what really matters now is getting you safe.”

The thought of getting himself out of the tunnels without any consideration for the others and their safety made Malcolm feel sick, but there was something in the tone of Mhavrych’s voice that told him that he had no choice. He left the Order to protect what was right and prevent more of the destruction that the corruption had caused. That meant trusting that Mhavrych understood what was happening more than he did and being willing to do what was asked of him. He pulled himself up to a full standing position and nodded.

“I can do it,” he said.

Mhavrych nodded in response and started toward the other side of the chamber. Malcolm followed as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the intense pain of his injuries as he went. Mhavrych guided them around a curve in the room then crouched down. He plunged the blade that he had been carrying into the wall and started to dig, pushing away damp earth as he went. It was only a few moments when he had revealed a door embedded in the wall. It was crafted out of what looked like a thin sliver of stone with a metal ring on one side. Mhavrych pulled on the ring, opening the door. Malcolm could see a narrow tunnel beyond the door and knew that Mhavrych had been right when he said that they would not be able to carry him through.

“We have to extinguish the torch,” Mhavrych said. “It’s too close in there to carry the flame. Stay close and move as quickly as you can. I’ll try to give instructions as we go, but you have to be able to follow.”

There was a loud thud behind them and Malcolm knew that the members of the Order had dropped into the chamber. Mhavrych extinguished the flame on the torch and Malcolm felt him grasp his wrist long enough to pull him forward into the tunnel. The space inside was too small to stand fully and he had to crouch slightly in order to move. They ran as fast as they could in the position and soon he felt his muscles tightening and his back aching. Malcolm focused on Mhavrych’s voice ahead of him to take his mind off of the pain. He listened to the man’s instructions, following them as they wove through further tunnels. Some were tighter than the first one and others required them to drop down several feet or climb up a steep incline. It felt like they had been traveling through the darkness for hours, but the fact that Malcolm couldn’t hear the voices of the Order members behind him any longer made him feel less afraid. Even though they had gotten into the compound, they might not have been able to find their way to the small hidden door, or through the twisted tunnels they were traveling through now.

“How much further?” Malcolm asked.

His head was starting to spin, and his body was feeling drained and exhausted. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had eaten or had anything to drink, and though he had spent long stretches unconscious, Malcolm knew that those hadn’t revived or refreshed him in any real way. Rather than being his body getting a chance to rest, this was his body shutting down, closing off in order to protect itself from any further damage.

“Keep going,” Mhavrych said. “We just have to keep going.”

Malcolm tucked his head down and kept moving, trying to force every bit of energy and strength that he could into his movements. He couldn’t put them at risk by collapsing or not being able to keep going on his own. It didn’t matter what he was feeling or experiencing. He had to push himself on. Behind him he felt a hand brush down his back. Though it stung as the fingers touched his still-open wounds, he knew the touch and was immediately grateful for it.

“I love you,” Icelyn said softly.

“I love you, too,” he said back.

Hearing the words strengthened him and Malcolm continued on, pushing himself, forcing himself to continue. Beneath his feet he could feel that the ground was becoming harder. While it wasn’t the solid stone of the other sections of the tunnels, it also wasn’t as soft and wet as the earth that they had been walking on. The air around him had been getting warmer and now it almost felt oppressive, starting to press in around him. The sweat that started to bead on his skin burned in Malcolm’s wounds, but the pain helped him to focus and pushed him to keep going. Soon Mhavrych spoke again.

“It’s just ahead,” he said. “When I stop, I need you to get as close together as possible. We have to go through another door, but we have to all go through together.”

He didn’t give them a chance to ask any questions or to protest in any way. His pace increased and soon Malcolm was nearly running to keep up with him. It took a few moments for him to recognize that the darkness had started to dissipate, and he was able to see around him again. It was still dim and he was only seeing the dark shape of Mhavrych ahead of him, but it was still a relief to not feel as though he was completely blind.

Malcolm watched as Mhavrych turned into another section of the tunnel and he followed him, stopping abruptly when he realized they had turned not down another corridor, but into what looked like a small round room. There was a slice of brighter light across one side of the room, indicating that there was a passage leading outside just ahead. Malcolm hoped that that was where they were going to go, but instead of starting toward the light when Athan and Icelyn got into the room with them, Mhavrych turned to face the curved wall just behind them. Malcolm looked in the same direction and he saw a vague outline of a rectangle in the stone. It didn’t look as though it were deep enough to show that there was a door there, but Mhavrych didn’t react as though he were surprised or frustrated by what he was seeing. Instead, he reached out and touched the top edge of the rectangle before glancing back over his shoulder.

“Get close,” he said. “Make sure that we are touching.”

It was a strange request, but one that Malcolm obliged, stepping up closer to Mhavrych and reaching beside himself to hold Icelyn’s hand. Hers curled willingly into his palm, fitting perfectly and lifting his heart. In the brighter light he could see Athan step up behind Icelyn and reach around her side to place his hand on Mhavrych’s back, then her other side to touch Malcolm. Placing his hand on Mhavrych’s back, Malcolm completed a ring of contact among them.

“Are you ready?” Mhavrych asked.

“What do you mean?” Malcolm asked.

“Try not to let go of each other. Don’t move immediately. When we arrive, we’ll be safe.”

“Arrive?”

Before he was able to hear any response that Mhavrych might have offered, Malcolm felt a deep, painful pulling in his belly that felt as though his spine was curving toward the front of his body and trying to push through his skin. He felt blackness coming in around him like he had when he was falling unconscious, but it was beyond his control. Just before he felt that he was going to explode, his feet could no longer feel the ground beneath them and he felt his body crash down as if he had been picked up and thrown. His first compulsion was to get up and try to figure out what had happened, but he remembered what Mhavrych had said and remained still for a few seconds until his breath normalized.

As he felt as though his control was returning to his body, Malcolm became aware of the chill in the air around him. It was sharp and thin rather than damp and cloying like the earthen tunnels. Something stingingly cold touched his face and he opened his eyes. Above him was the sky, grey and blank almost as though a cloud had been stretched across its entire expanse. Sparkling snowflakes were drifting down from it, occasionally landing on his face and melting into his skin. Malcolm turned his head and saw that he was lying on the ground, his body cradled in thick snow. His bare chest and back were already nearly numb from their exposure to the temperature, but the chill had seemed to clear his mind and he was thinking sharper and more quickly than he had been when he was in the tunnels.

Though he had tried to stay in contact with the whole group, Mhavrych and Athan had fallen away from him. Malcolm’s hand still grasped Icelyn’s beside him. She was lying on her side, her head rested on her arm as her fingers linked with Malcolm’s. Her eyes were closed, but he could see them twitching slightly beneath her eyelids, telling him that she was alright despite the hard landing in the snow. He leaned forward and touched a kiss to her cheek, feeling the chill of snowflakes on his lips. She gave a soft moan and her eyes fluttered open. When she saw him, Icelyn’s eyes brightened and she smiled.

“Malcolm,” she murmured. “I was so scared.”

“I know,” he said. “So was I.”

Both sat up carefully, Malcolm gauging the swimming feeling in his head as he straightened and feeling relieved and thankful when he realized that much of the feeling had passed. Icelyn looked at him and her expression melted from happiness to horror.

“What did they do to you?” she asked, reaching out to touch her fingertips to the wounds on his chest. He hissed at the sting of the content and she pulled her hand back sharply. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I want you to touch me. I would never want to not feel you.”

“How is everyone?” Mhavrych asked from several feet away.

Malcolm turned to look over his shoulder and saw that both of the other men were standing in the snow, looking far less affected by whatever had brought them to this place than he and Icelyn were.

“Fine,” Icelyn said, starting to her feet.

Malcolm got to his knees and then started to stand, both helping Icelyn to her feet and pushing against her for leverage to stand.

“What happened?” he asked. “Where are we?”

“How did we get here?” Icelyn asked.

“We need to get Malcolm out of the snow,” Athan said. “He doesn’t have the protection that he needs and after what he’s been through, he has been weakened.”

“Can you keep walking?” Mhavrych asked.

“I’m fine,” Malcolm said.

He didn’t want them to see him as weak or worry that they needed to give him more attention now. He wanted to be a contributor to their efforts, not a project. Mhavrych looked at him for a few moments as if he wasn’t entirely sure that he believed what he was saying, but then he nodded.

“Alright. Let’s go. Don’t try to push through the snow when you walk. Kick it out of the way as you go. It will keep you warmer, but won’t tire you out as much. We don’t have far to walk, but don’t stop. Stopping in the snow can be deadly, especially when you aren’t prepared. If the wind kicks up the snow, tuck your head and keep following a straight path. Look for the footprints ahead of you and don’t turn. It will end soon enough.”

His instructions done, Mhavrych turned and started away from where they had landed. Malcolm noticed that he hadn’t answered Icelyn’s question about how they had gotten there from the tunnels, but he felt as though they would find out soon enough. Once they were out of the snow and secure, they would know more.

Malcolm took hold of Icelyn’s hand again and they started after Mhavrych. He wrapped his free arm around himself and curled forward to generate as much body heat as he possibly could and Icelyn stepped up closer to him, pressing her shoulder against him as much as she could as they made their way through the deep snow. Walking through the cold and fighting against the several inches of frozen water was far more difficult than he would have imagined, and Malcolm was relieved when he glanced up and saw the outline of a rocky ledge ahead of them. It was low and small, not a mountain, but rather a hill that rose only high enough out of the snow that it looked like the men would be able to pass through the gap at the front with only a small margin above their heads.

Malcolm braced himself as they approached the cave. It looked foreboding and he didn’t know what he should expect when they stepped inside. Rather than walking directly in, however, Mhavrych paused several feet from the entrance and kicked at the snow, revealing a row of rocks positioned across the entrance almost like a fence. He tapped his foot against each as if counting them and then stomped on one. There was a pause and then Malcolm heard a sound from inside the cave. A few moments later he saw a glimmer of light.

“Hello?” a suspicious-sounding voice called out.

“It’s Mhavrych.”

“Come in.”

They stepped into the cave and Malcolm immediately felt a rush of warmer air coming toward him as if there were a fire burning somewhere out of sight.

“Where are we?” Icelyn asked.

Her voice sounded more tremulous now, as if each step made her more and more unsure of what was happening. Mhavrych turned to her and let out a sigh. He gestured out of the opening of the cave back toward the snowy world that they had found themselves in. Outside the wind had suddenly picked up, creating a wall of swirling white just beyond the entrance to the cave.

“This is the place that gave you your name,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Icelyn asked.

“When you were born, your parents wanted to give you a name that would carry meaning, not just for them and for you, but for everyone who understood its significance into the future. They chose a name that would act as a secret message, a subversive act that would allow them to speak out and stand up for what they believed in, what they knew was right, every day, in all company, without ever giving up information that might hurt their cause. Your name was chosen as a symbol of the place where your grandfather was sent into exile to honor him and the suffering that he endured for the sake of the Order’s true purpose and for the good of all existence. Now it is a constant reminder of what he continues to endure, what he continues to put himself through in order to protect what he started.”

Malcolm could feel Icelyn’s hand trembling in his and when he looked at her, she appeared pale and shocked. He turned toward the sound of footsteps hurrying toward them and saw a tall, thin man step into the chamber and pause, his eyes locked on Icelyn. Mhavrych offered the traditional Mikana greeting and then turned to her.

“Icelyn, this is Casimir, your grandfather.”