Cloud Piercer

Seventeen

Killian barely looks at me as we move through the underground passageway.

His posture is relaxed, unthreatened, but I know from the positioning of his body towards me that if I tried to strike him, he'd have me on the ground before I could raise an arm. Not that I have anything to strike him with, anyway.

A dark, dingy passageway looms ahead. If it weren't for the oil lantern Killian carries, we'd be in complete darkness, the musty smell lingering in the air the only reminder that we're not outside. I examine the dirt compacted walls, the rusted metal secured in the entrance ways we pass, and wrinkle my nose, trying to imagine where in Veymaw we could be located. Nobody has ever known where the deserters reside, but we hadn't walked for that long. Have they been beneath our feet all along? I shudder as a thought occurs. Casimir is a deserter. They've been in my house the whole time.

I stare at the back of Killian's head as we round the corner, thinking of the interaction in the main hall. We took three lefts and a right, but for the past few minutes, the passage has merely gone straight.

"Is that woman, Casimir's mother, the leader?" I ask.

Killian turns to glance at me, tilting his head forward. "Only of the deserters in this region."

"That means Casimir is..." He's more than just another deserter. He's the leader's son. I think of the way Killian seemed to mock him. "And where do you stand?"

"That's complicated. I'm not from this region."

"You're not?"

"Not everything I told you was a lie, Freya."

"How big of you," I snort.

"I was honest where I could be. And the number of hints I tried to drop that you just didn't pick up on was truly quite admirable."

My cheeks warm at the insult. He's right, though. I always knew there was something suspicious about Killian, but I was so preoccupied with keeping my own secret from him I never considered the fact that his was worse.

"If you knew I was searching for the deserters, why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"If it were up to me, I would've, believe me." He comes to a stop as we reach an opening.

In hindsight, I'm not surprised by the revelation the Killian is a deserter, nor do I have any right to feel betrayed by his lies. He owed me nothing. Whatever honesty he offered me was completely voluntary. I try to remember that as he turns to look at me, those dark eyes sucking all the energy from the room.

"You can stay in here," he says, stepping to the side to let me past. I investigate the room. There's a small bed in the corner and a desk on the far wall. No windows, of course, the only light emanating from the oil lantern in Killian's hand. But no door, only a sheet to cover the entry way.

Good.

"Sure looks like a prison," I say.

I step past him, our arms brushing. I've worked for so long to be here, and yet, I don't want to be trapped.

"What did Trina mean when she said I'd have to prove myself before leaving?" I ask.

"Don't worry about that."

"But what did she mean?"

"Being a deserter is no glamorous lifestyle. It's dangerous, for all parties involved. Some leaders take certain measure to ensure loyalty from their members. Something they can... use to persuade you if you ever get cold feet."

"Persuasion. You mean like blackmail?" He shrugs in response. "So she wants something to threaten me with?"

"She wants something to ensure you won't run your mouth," he corrects.