Change, page 10
Set on a small hill, the building was on a plain in the largest cave she’d ever seen. It was miles across in width, so large she could only see the cave walls closest to where she stood. A narrow lake or wide river surrounded it on all but one side, where lava poured out of two gaps in a wall, disappearing from view. Lights glowed on a dramatic castle in the opposite direction of the lava.
Based on how far away it seemed and how small the tents surrounding it appeared, the palace had to be huge.
Outside of the white poplars circling it, very little interrupted the pastel monotony of tall, pale flowers and grasses filling every direction, other than a few dark, misshapen trees, a square patch of bare earth with a few abandoned shovels, and a mini ground-mounted set of solar panels near the lava. Wide dirt paths lead toward the palace and toward one side of the island.
Two men lifted the cage with the prisoner and started carrying it toward the truck.
She grimaced and checked above her, hoping she’d be able to hide herself there.
Overhead, a silvery globe hung like a moon, with multiple smaller, similar ones scattered around it. Their combined light showed the stalactites they were affixed to and the roof of the vast cavern. They had the same unreal, watery quality that she’d seen in the artificial illumination of the undersea kingdom.
This isn’t Atlantis, but I wonder if that’s what the sky there was supposed to be like at night if Hephaestus had finished his work? It’s too bright up top to hide well if they know I’m up there, so I need to stay closer to the ground or they’ll spot me. Pues, guess I got to slow them down so I can trail them to wherever they’re taking cage guy. She ran and got the grenade launcher.
Someone’s head popped up over the edge of the building, and then dropped back down, yelling, when she turned the grenade launcher toward them.
Propping it on one of the fancy edges of the building, she aimed it at the windshield of the still-empty truck.
Shouting came from below.
No more time. She fired three times in rapid succession, fighting to control the oversized weapon even in her heavier gargoyle form.
The first grenade hit the glass and then exploded in a gray, opaque mess over it, obscuring it. Her next two shots had been placed well over the heads of the closest big clusters of men, one of which had a ladder, and were less successful in covering the targets.
While the glue stopped only one or two of them, the rest scattered and lost their formation. Unfortunately, they retained enough mobility and sense to send a barrage of darts and rubber bullets at her.
Hurling the now-empty glue gun at a climber who had almost reached the roof—he ducked back down, but one hand still gripped the edge—she rolled away. Regaining her feet, she ran to another side.
Some of the men there had run to the truck side, but not all of them.
Taking what she could get, she launched herself off the roof, gliding over the poplars and into the fields of tall grass and flowers beyond.
Her back prickled, and she shifted to a Patagonian mara when she was close to the ground so she’d be less visible.
Another storm of bullets and darts shot by overhead.
She landed and spent a precious few seconds making certain her body still contacted the straps of her blanket and water bottles.
The flowers whispered a couple of feet above her head.
Concentrating, she focused on teleporting to the most memorable tree, a yew with twisted arms that had reminded her of the cephalopod chandelier at her friend Dmitri’s night club. It had the added benefit of being far enough away that anyone searching where she’d landed would not find her.
Once she was there, she left her blanket and water in the flowers at the base of the tree and scampered to the side opposite where she’d come. After shifting to a barred owl, Zita peeked out past the trunk to see if anyone had followed her.
In the distance, men swarmed around where she’d landed, spreading out and searching that area. The long howl of a wolf answered the distant cry of dogs.
I haven’t seen any other living creatures, even bugs. Either they’ve got shifters I’ll have to be wary of, or this place isn’t as barren elsewhere as it seems here. They were waiting for people to come through. Wonder what else they have planned? So far, though, I’m winning.
A soft hoot of satisfaction escaped. She flew up to a branch of the tree and leaned against the trunk so her outline wouldn’t be obvious as she waited. Another of the black boxes with an antenna and solar array was bolted to the tree.
She amused herself by ruining the panel and whatever the electronics box was while she attempted to be patient. When she finished that, she fluffed her feathers and drifted into an avian nap out of boredom, mentally dozing while she watched.
About a half hour later, all but one quartet of searchers had given up. A group of men moved out from the building. In their center, the cage rolled along, pulled by ropes and bedecked with lanterns that made it effortless to track as they walked across the plains toward the lava side of the island.
Finally! The goop must not be coming off the truck windshield. They’re splitting their forces to guard the portal building, to haul that cage somewhere, and to keep searching for me. Fat chance on that last one, guys. Now, show me where you’re keeping the prisoners while I figure out the right fur and feather patterns to keep unseen. Zita had to stop herself from dancing on her perch.
She stalked them for an hour, teleporting from the cephalopod yew to another that resembled a derby hat. Bringing the blanket and water had required caution, but she’d had the time to do that as well as pick apart the black box in the hat-tree as well. Near her new hiding place, asphodel surrounded solar panels and a cubic object with wheels, but she waited to examine those until after she’d seen where they were taking the prisoner.
The men stopped near her tree in a cleared area at the edge of the island.
Rather than the river that surrounded the other sides, this one had a deep chasm separating the island from the wall of the cave. Two narrow streams of lava trickled down the wall and disappeared. A wide rope suspension bridge crossed the gap, leading up to a flat ledge with a cave mouth on the other side.
One irritated guard, based on the stomping, kept banging his handheld radio on his leg and shaking it at the others. After a few minutes, with the biggest man pushing the cage, all but two crossed the swaying bridge and disappeared into the cave. With obvious annoyance, the men left outside jogged toward the distant palace.
None of them spared more than a glance for her tree.
She squinted, but didn’t see any cameras or guards on the outside.
After waiting for the runners to get far enough away, she left her things at the base of the tree and changed back into a Patagonian mara. With the tall grasses and flowers hiding her, she scurried over to the solar panels. She examined this set of electronics, chewing on a sprig of mint that had somehow found its way into her mouth.
The panels were small, the width of a student desk, and had attachments that made her suspect they were meant to be folded and carried. They were hooked up to a chunky battery the size of a big cooler on its own wheeled cart.
I don’t have to do much to sabotage this one. Zita grinned and shifted to a howler monkey again. Keeping low and working fast in the hopes of avoiding notice, she disconnected everything she could, looped the cables around the handle of the wheeled battery, and draped the solar panel over the top.
After becoming a pit bull, she grabbed the cables in her jaws and took a moment to perfect her grip. With the cart bumping along behind her, she scurried to the edge of the chasm.
The smoky scent of sulfur buried the aroma of the flowers and the sweat of the men she’d been tracking. Lava glowed below.
Gleefully, she released the cables and nudged the cart over the edge. Even before it hit the lava, she had darted back into the grass and over to the tree, hoping her brown, brindled coat would help hide her.
After no one came out to investigate, she picked up the sling with her things and hurried back to the bridge. While she hated to be so exposed, it would at least offer her partial cover from anyone. Flying in would be visible for quite a distance.
With a tail wag, she loped across the swinging bridge.
***
The lone guard inside the entrance was more scared of her than she was of him.
At least, until he realized she was alone.
Still, she’d brought him down, tied him up with his own belongings, and stashed him in a fern-laden lava pillar with his socks muffling any cries and a dart stuck in him to put him to sleep.
So far, so good. If he’d bothered to stand during his watch instead of lounging in that folding chair, he might’ve spotted me coming. His laziness was my gain. I won’t count on more luck like that. As soon as someone notices he’s missing, they’ll start searching for me. In gargoyle form again, Zita began picking her cautious way down the wide tunnel that was the only way deeper into the cavern.
On the bright side, the cave system showed no sign of electricity, cameras, or any other modern security features that she would have to avoid.
However, it was pitch-black. Empty sconces lined the walls at regular intervals, but whatever once filled them was gone, crumbled to dust or removed. While subtler than the clearly artificial plains outside, someone had also modified the cave system based on the ways it differed from all the ones she’d explored back home, such as the sconces, suspiciously even main passage, and the occasional human-sized, symmetrical archways.
Most animals can’t navigate in total darkness, and I don’t want to give myself away by lighting up the area as a pixie. Bat would work, but I’d have to give up the water and blanket. Guess I’m staying as is for now with a few switches over to dog to verify I haven’t lost the trail of those dudes.
The main tunnel appeared to be a roughly circular lava tube, wide enough for three or four tall, broad men to walk side-by-side and high enough to allow another man to stand on their shoulders at the same time. Frequent smaller side tunnels and caverns linked to it. Unfortunately, the main passageway also had long, straight stretches and blind corners, with signs of frequent use and no hiding places for anything bigger than a cat.
The men I’m tracking went down the main track, of course. I might be able to hide on the ceiling for short periods of time as a gargoyle if patrols don’t have great lighting and my luck holds, but I wouldn’t bet on that. Zita switched her attention to the smaller side tunnels and caverns.
The first few side caves and smaller tunnels she peeked into were better for hiding, with lots of rock formations, such as lavacicles and lava pillars. They also showed little to no obvious signs of regular travel.
Given that and the appealing thought of being able to navigate the cave system without taking the main tunnel, Zita started with the side caves and passages, making a few subtle chalk marks here and there to keep herself oriented.
Her mind whirled as she explored. It’s been hours since Freelance disappeared and probably was captured. He might already have escaped if he’s not hurt too bad, and these side routes would be the most logical place for him to hide. If he’s dead... he better not be dead. I have things to say to him, even if I have no clue what.
Some caves showed no signs of recent use, though dusty jars and moldering equipment implied they’d had purposes in the past. A few had very dim light from crystals set into lamps on the walls, with algae, fungi, and the occasional moss staining the surrounding rock. The ones with the crystals had the sweetest air, though the overall air quality was better than she expected so far underground. In one such chamber, she’d clambered up a pillar to find a hidden alcove above it that even had a tiny hot spring and a wide ledge, albeit one covered in mosses.
Between the bubbling water and the way the sheltered spot connected to the cave below, the sound of a passing patrol was muted but still audible.
After switching back to her Arca form, she took a long drink from a water bottle and ate a protein bar. Reluctantly, she stashed the blanket and water on the ledge.
This will do as a home base. Travel will be much easier if I can switch back and forth to a small form, and the side tunnels around here don’t appear to lead where I need to go. I’m going to have to go back to the main passageway if I don’t run into wherever the prisoners are soon. Zita returned to her gargoyle form and peeked below, listening until the patrol grew faint enough to seem safe.
She exited the little cave, retracing her way through the short passageway to the main tunnel.
A quick sniff as a dog before returning to gargoyle form confirmed that the men she’d been tracking had all continued down the main tunnel. She updated her discreet marks with chalk so she could find her refuge again later, and continued on.
While sneaking past the roaming patrols took time, being able to hide in a variety of small forms while they passed made it a lot faster than her early slow explorations. It helped that the patrols announced themselves with their flashlights and noise. The caves in current use tended to have bits of trash in the corners and bright, battery-powered camp lanterns that only illuminated their immediate area.
She kept scouting, flying as much as possible to avoid leaving a trail other than her chalk marks. Her brain kept ticking over scenarios, returning to her unsettled feelings about her relationship with Freelance more often than she liked. Something’s got to change. We’re not together but we are, and we trust each other in combat or doing extreme sports, but we can’t even manage a simple text exchange. We can’t—I won’t—continue in this weird in-between state.
Deeper into the cave system, useful but rustic implements stocked the smallest and meanest caverns. In one, an enormous cauldron sat on glowing red rocks in front of a table filled with stacks of pottery bowls and eating implements. Several of the dim crystals lit the kitchen, and had for a long time, based on the amount of lampenflora growing on the walls, the same fungi, algae, and mosses she had noted elsewhere. The fastidious part of herself was pleased to see that the food preparation table appeared clean, despite the flower stalks littering the floor. Although a spoon stirred something bubbling in the massive pot, no one was there to guide it.
The scent was one she recognized and enough to lure her over. A glance inside and a deep inhale as a cat confirmed her guess. She’d had enough of the sweetened barley water poured down her throat on Olympus. Kykeon, like the nymphs made, down to the spell that keeps it from burning when they wander off to do other things. So, whoever’s cooking might not be a slave, but a nymph or something instead. I’ll need to confirm, but if so, that cuts down the number of people I have to rescue.
Pieces came together. Kykeon, the three-headed dog statue—that’s Garm’s canine buddy, Curbasaurus or something—plus all the Greek stuff in a huge cave... I know where we are! It’s that Underworld place that we were warned not to enter. That means that somewhere there’s an exit to Olympus that I can take people through if I can’t rescue everyone on the first pass. Wyn’s been talking to Chiron about taking care of her aunt, so eventually she’ll contact him and he can get her to bring everyone home. The most awkward thing will be explaining Olympus to anyone I have to take there, assuming I can sneak them out of this place.
Zita exhaled and resumed her stealthy explorations. Gracias a Dios. That makes the rescue simpler. Now I just have to find the prisoners and Freelance.
Chapter Eight
A couple of hours later, Zita was in prison.
After creeping down yet another unlit tunnel that saw a lot of use, based on the number of patrols she had to dodge and the discarded scraps of trash, she pressed herself against the wall. She sent up a brief prayer that she’d finally reached the jail area, and wouldn’t have to go through the noisy, crowded barracks she’d skipped exploring earlier to reach the prisoner cells. She peeked through the perfectly symmetrical archway into the cave.
It was the size of an American football field and had a twenty- or thirty-foot-wide chasm splitting it in the middle. A stone bridge connected the two halves of the room. Her side held the cages and the archway to the rest of the cave system. The other side had a metal cage hooked up to a complicated pulley system that ran along the ceiling powered by a hand crank. Everything reeked like sweat and sulfur, despite the opportunistic lampenflora growing near the wall-mounted camp lanterns that provided illumination. The room was still shadowy even with the lights, and tinted a hellish red from the light of the pit. The occasional murmur of voices drifted up from somewhere.
Weirdly, they had a wheeled battery connected to a power brick. A cord linked to it and then dangled down the wall of the cliff, wrapped around a steel spike.
In the now-familiar dark fatigues and armor vests, two young guards dozed on stools. While one was on the other side of the bridge, the closest man leaned against a large barrel near her and a cage on wheels right by the archway. Although her angle prevented her from seeing into it, she could see a prisoner’s shoulder and part of their arm in the cage. Another cage, this one empty, sat on the opposite of the entry.
The archway she was hiding behind was the only obvious way in or out of the room.
Where are the cells? Two crappy guards in a giant room, but only one prisoner? She stared at the cage-elevator contraption. Wait... did they stick the others in cells down below the floor level? It’s going to take a while to get them all out if I can’t figure out how to operate that cage thingy. Maybe Freelance can intimidate a guard into telling us how it works if we can’t figure it out.
Zita glanced at the ground. It appeared to be solid rock. At least the floor doesn’t look like it turns into a revolving death arena this time, and what I can see of the pit walls seems climbable. The lavacicles on the roof will provide some cover, but I’ll also have to be careful flying to avoid hitting them. Well, if this is another trap, let’s see if I can get around it. One guard at a time, I guess.
