Daughters of Blood

Chapter 10

The tunnels in the walls of the castle ran right through the heart of the building, underneath stairs, ladders stretching into the rafters, and deep, deep underground. Jaia had gotten lost once, and wandered the dusty labyrinth for an entire day before she found a grate that led into the kitchens. She had emerged, coughing and sneezing, cobwebs in her hair, starving and in tears. Her sister had teased her mercilessly for it.

She remembered parts of that unfortunate journey. It had taken her past openings in the brickwork that she had heard running water behind. Later she had found out just how close the sewers ran to the castle. Now she headed straight for it, passing through rooms and listening to the distant shouts, conversations, lives of servants in the castle who had no idea that she was hiding from her own guards. How many of them would help her if she asked? She feared that number would dwindle before long. Who knew how many people Lysander had gotten his claws into, even from across the country?

She pushed her way through a hole in the wall, following the sound of water, and found herself in the sewers that ran all the way through the city. Well, an escape was an escape. She couldn't afford to be precious now. Pulling up her skirts, she tiptoed carefully along ledges, past rats that watched her with a mixture of indifference and surprise, breathing shallowly as the smell became overwhelming. The walls were slimy with moss and things she didn't even want to guess at. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, but she did know where the sewers eventually led. Into the ocean, the rough waters around the coast, where she would be able to find her way into the city via the beach.

So she kept going. Kept walking through the dark, smelly tunnels, following the flow of the water, sometimes gingerly stepping through the murk when the ledges ended. The light gradually grew brighter as she approached the end of the tunnel, and she crawled through the pipe that let the waste trickle into the water, finding the tide low enough to wade through the cave she had ended up in. She clung to the side of the cliff, making her way around to the course, sandy beach at the edge of the world that she had ruled for ten years. The northern North, the jagged coastline that protected them from an invasion by sea, stretching high into the sky underneath the outer walls of the castle.

How far she had fallen in a day... only that morning she had been on top of the world, wrapped up in cozy, blissful pleasure. A proposal, a betrayal and an abduction later, she was soaked to the bone, sneaking around her own country, without a plan, without protection.

All she could do was push on. Wading through the rough surf and up the beach, she passed old fishermen and children digging holes in the sand, pulling her cloak around herself and trying not to think about the sight that she must be. Up the dunes, into the city, trying to get as far from the castle as she could. Hopefully her guards were still searching the grounds for her and hadn't realised she'd left the castle entirely.

She needed a plan. She knew she couldn't make it across the country, past the wall, into the South by herself. There was that underground tunnel in the mines that Zephyr had come through... but it was so far away. She didn't know how to get there undetected. She was going to need help.

Jaia kept walking until her feet were sore and she felt like she was wandering in circles. The streets all looked the same and she was getting tired and hungry, and she was starting to shiver, the crisp Northern air doing her no favors, soaked from the sewers and the ocean as she was.

Alright, she told herself, stopping on the street and gazing up at the signs that hung in the air, advertising small bars and taverns along the street. Just pick one. Find food. Find help.

She entered the first tavern she came across, stepping into the dimly lit space that smelled of beer and burnt food, her cloak pulled tightly around her head so that only her eyes were showing. It was quiet, most of its usual clientele still hard at work in the mines at this time of day, just a few men sitting at the bar or at tables, minding their own business. She approached the bar, leaning in and beckoning the server over.