Obsidian: Retribution (Book 2)

Fifty Three: The Fists of Gods

'Three left turns, then the second right,' Akshay recited the directions he'd been given as he ran through the maze of tunnels. One wrong turn meant he could be lost in here for life, and it was likely no one would find his corpse until it rots. Niroza could also have given him the wrong directions to make that happen on purpose, although he couldn't see the point of killing him now, or in this way.

'You can't go back through the main gate,' was Niroza Naeem's reason for giving him the directions through these passages. 'If someone wants Ranveer dead, he will first need to get rid of you. You'd be killed or captured by the time you arrive.'

It made sense, and he had agreed. Luring him out of the Barai had been necessary, and he'd fallen for it. He was willing to bet they were planning to use him as their scapegoat too, and it didn't take much to guess who exactly had ordered the assassination.

It was a brilliant plan, he had to admit, but one he should have seen coming from the moment the Salar reappeared. Now, he was racing with time. The healer could be there with the poison any minute. He might already be too late. This was stupid, careless, and––

A sound. A vibration from somewhere below. Akshay halted his steps to listen, to feel it again under the soles of his feet. He knew this feeling. Had experienced it as a child.

Fuck.

***

It began with a hum, a rumble so small you could only hear it if you were paying attention. Rhykal seemed to be the first one who felt it, judging from the way he froze dead on the spot, eyes wide like an injured animal picking up a predator's first scent in the air. Lasura felt his hair stand on end as he realized what was happening, what his premonition was trying to tell him, what Djari's was, and, most importantly, where they were.

No. Not this. Not now. Not while they're in here.

The tremor came half a breath later, rising from the ground underneath their feet, branching out toward the walls on either side, rattling the sconces in their holders as it crawled toward the ceiling. The quake grew louder, heavier, faster in speed as the tunnel shook and creaked from all directions.

In the back of his mind, the image of the god Yahwah, smiling, teeth slippery and wet with blood. With Djari's blood.

"Run," said Rhykal, just before everything turned to hell.

***

The tremor jolted him awake, or maybe it was the sound of his bed shaking, he wasn't sure. No, Ranveer corrected himself as he tried and failed to pry his eyes open the second time. The bed wasn't shaking, the ground was, the entire building was. He could feel it in his bones, could hear the repetitive sound of furniture lifting clear off the floor, and the impact that followed as they dropped. Around him, a chaos of noises erupted. The sound of glass breaking, coming from the windows. Some things fell off from somewhere high, knocked over by a force that grew in strength, in power every time it shook the building.

It was no dream. He'd never had that sound a sleep in his life. Could always tell between a nightmare and what was happening around him at anytime. Get up, he yelled at himself in his mind, trying to snap out of that half-conscious state. Get up or you will die here!

Someone was in the room with him. He could hear the heavy yet frail footsteps as they approached. It wasn't Akshay. Akshay's footwork was decisive, precise. Akshay would have rushed over and gotten him out a long time ago. This man was coming with another intent, something that made him reluctant, something he'd been forced to do.

Get up!

Nothing moved. He was still swimming in that half-world between dreams and reality, trying to pull his limbs out from under an invisible weight that held them in place, pressing them down into the sheets. He opened his mouth to scream, or he thought he did, but no sound came, not even a whimper. Where are the guards? Where is Akshay? There should have been guards outside his door.