Obsidian: Retribution (Book 2)

Fifty-Six: A Prayer for Tomorrow

"We'll have to wait here, for sunrise." Rhykal stared thoughtfully at the pile of rubble blocking the way they came, wiping off the thin trail of blood that was still trickling down his forehead with the back of his hand. They were still tied up, his hands.

The ceiling had collapsed between her and the prince. Rhykal had pulled her out of the way just in time, had shielded her during the quake and got them both to safety with a few minor injuries. He seemed to know what to do, what to expect, how to stay alive in this situation. She wondered if he'd been trained for that or if he'd survived a quake before. She also wondered who had saved her back there, Rhykal or Hasheem. Right now, it was Rhykal who was speaking to her.

Djari looked at the entrance to the old tunnel that was still standing. It led to the sea, Prince Lasura had said. They'd backtracked here, to find a way out.

"Because the tide is high?" That was what he'd said, though she still had no clear idea of what it was, tide.

Rhykal nodded. "It will go down in the morning. I imagine the exit is well underwater right now, and the sharks are out at night, to hunt around the coast."

Sharks. Another creature she had heard of but never seen. She would ask about that later. Right now, there were other things to worry about. "Can they get out? The prince and Saya?" They had no directions forward. All of them had been following Rhykal.

"If they're still alive, you mean?"

She pressed her lips together. 'If we die for this, it's your sin to carry,' Saya had said, and was right. "I know they are. I can feel it." She couldn't, not really. It was just a hunch, or wishful thinking on her part. But the prince was also the chosen one, just as she was. Until she saw his corpse, she would believe he was still alive. It benefited them nothing otherwise. Not in this situation. She was worried about something else. "Can they get out, without your directions?"

He looked at her quietly for a time, before deciding on a reply. "It will take a great deal of luck, if not a miracle. Too many turns, too many doors. Different things waiting, behind those doors."

She nodded. "Then I will pray for a miracle." What else was there to do, in any case, until sunrise?

Rhykal smiled, like an adult to a child. "You still believe in prayers? In miracles?"

She stared at him. He waited for her answer. He was listening to her. Which was new. Something had changed in Rhykal. He had also protected her, just now. "Come," she said, taking out the small knife she was carrying. "I'll cut you loose."

He blinked at that. "You will cut me loose?"

She walked over to him and began to cut the rope. "You could have killed me––killed us––anytime, even with your hands tied, if that's what you wanted to do."

"Maybe I'm waiting for the right time."

The rope came apart, fell down between their feet. She looked at him in the eyes, held them. She was certain now, of what she had suspected, after what had happened. Twice.

"You won't kill me," she said. "Because you can't. Because he won't let you. You know––you know––that whatever you are is what he is, and whatever you can do, he also can. Hasheem will kill you before you hurt me, and he will succeed because he has something important to lose and you don't. You know this, and you won't risk it." She stepped closer to him, to put her theory to the test. She was alive, wasn't she? He had saved her. One of them did. "He is there, isn't he? Watching you? Watching us?"

There was pain in those gray eyes. There seemed to be pain whenever he'd tried to hurt her, or when she confronted him like this. She had seen them before, but these signs of struggle had been occurring more and more often since he'd attacked her that night. She wondered...