Lies of Murk by Eva Chase
10
Talia
Iwait until the Murk around me have settled into their homes to sleep, during what I guess must be daytime in the world outside the Refuge. I hear a few still roaming past my little hovel, probably patrolling. When I poke my head out, the overhead lights have dimmed enough that I have to squint to make out any shape more than a few feet away.
Orion always appears to be up when the rest of his people are. I assume he has to sleep sometime. I gaze into the dark stillness for a while longer before gathering the boldness to slip over the edge of the platform and creep along the tracks.
The tunnel swallows me in an even deeper black, but only for a few breaths. As I feel my way along across the gravel between the rails, the glow of the Murk’s Heart comes into view up ahead, seeping out over the tunnel walls with its sporadic flickering. I fix my gaze on it to guide me, even though the sight of it makes my pulse skitter.
When I reach the entrance to the throne room, I peer inside carefully. The dais stands empty, no figures lounging on its well-worn surface or in the king’s chair. There’s no sign right now of the king himself. The entire room is empty other than the jittering glow and the erratic jolt of the Heart’s energy over my skin.
Setting my feet as silently as I can, I limp across the rough cement floor to the glowing orange mass. With so little other light, its erratic energy niggles at me even more than usual, sending a crawling sensation through my body in waves. I shudder, hugging myself, and force my feet to carry me all the way onto the low platform.
I skirt the throne and walk right up to the Murk’s Heart. Bracing myself against the spurts of energy that waft over me, I scan the ground beneath it and the wall around and behind it for any clues to its full nature.
Is it drawing on any kind of fuel here? Has Orion used some kind of magical artifact to help power it? Is there anything at all I could disrupt to damage the Murk’s source of magic—to weaken them enough that I could reach Corwin again, that the fae of the seasons could challenge the rat shifters on their own turf and win?
Or even just to prevent the war Orion’s planning. I’d settle for that, regardless of what happens to me.
But I can’t see anything except the immense patch of condensed energy, which stands a few feet taller than me and equally wide. Not as big as the Heart of the Mists, but still formidable. Still potent enough that the roots of my hair are starting to prickle the longer I’m standing so close.
I wave my hand into the midst of the glow, and a searing pain stabs through my fingers. I yank them away so quickly I almost stumble backward. My skin doesn’t look damaged as far as I can tell in the orange light, but it takes several seconds before the sharp ache starts to fade.
Okay, that definitely didn’t get me anywhere.
I shuffle to one side and the other to see if I can make out any other clues from a different angle, but nothing that looks at all useful presents itself. Sucking a frustrated breath through my teeth, I wander around the rest of the dais, prodding the surface with my toes, testing the assortment of concrete chunks that make up the throne, checking the walls on either side for supplies or other items that might be important to Orion.
I find a few newspapers from the past few weeks tucked away on one ledge, but they don’t give me any clue about my location. Either Orion has his people raiding newsstands with international subscriptions, or they leap through the portals to visit cities all over the world. The paper that’s in English is from Sydney, Australia. There’s another written in what I think is Spanish, and two others in letters I can’t even read to guess what countries they’re from.
Can Orion read all these languages, or did he want them for some other purpose?
I’d like to take them with me in case they’ll prove useful, but when they’re the only thing left around here other than a few scraps of food waste, it’ll be too obvious they’re missing. I worry my lip under my teeth and then set the newspapers back in their nook.
I slink back toward the entrance staying close to the wall, searching for other alcoves. There’s one narrow opening I hadn’t noticed before because of the angle of its entrance, which falls away into a passage of total darkness. I can’t tell how deep it is, and there’s nothing in view in the area the Heart’s glow touches.
When I lean close, a rasp that sounds like an exhaled breath reaches my ears. I stiffen and cautiously retreat.
I think someone’s sleeping down there. Orion or someone else?
Whoever it is, I doubt they’ll be all that friendly to someone sneaking into what’s essentially their bedroom.
Disheartened, I limp the rest of the way to the tunnel. I should probably get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll slip away to the maintenance room again and see if I can loosen up the bolts on that vent cover. If I can’t find anything here in the Refuge that’ll help me stop the war, then the best thing I can do is get the hell out of here to let the other fae know exactly what they’re up against.
I’ve only just stepped over the nearer rail when the rattle of gravel farther down the tunnel freezes me in place. My heart thumping, I glance over my shoulder. It takes a few moments for enough light to catch on the approaching figure for me to recognize him, and even then, I don’t totally relax.
Madoc comes to a stop a few feet from me and raises his eyebrows. “What were you doing in there at this hour?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“I thought of something I wanted to ask Orion,” I say, spitting out the first excuse that pops into my head. “I figured he might still be up.” I shrug as if to say, oh well.
Madoc gives me a penetrating look that sends a quiver of apprehension through me, but he doesn’t question my story. “I’d imagine he’ll hear your question tomorrow. Do you need help finding your way back to your house?”
“I made it here; I’m sure I can find my way back.”
He motions for me to walk alongside him. “I was heading this way anyway. Had a desire I couldn’t shake for a middle of the night snack. Not that it’s actually night in many places above us.”
“A noon snack?” I can’t help suggesting.
The corners of his lips twitch upward. “Something like that. You’re obviously feeling a bit restless yourself if you’re seeking out answers when everyone else is sleeping. Maybe you could do with a snack too.”
My first instinct is to refuse, to avoid his company—but I second-guess that impulse before the words work their way up my throat. Orion’s not worth trying to convince, but Madoc… Madoc didn’t seem exactly happy about what happened earlier with the two young Murk men, even if he saw their skirmish as unpreventable.
He’s close to Orion. He must know more about his king’s strategies and magic than just about anyone else here. I might as well take whatever opportunity presents itself to see what I can get out of him. At least he can talk, unlike their Heart.
“Thank you,” I say. “That would be nice. Is there much food around at this time?”
He chuckles lightly. “I keep my own stash.”
I remember the box of human snacks I noticed in his telescope room. Unsurprisingly, that’s where he leads me—past the station with my house and through another into a farther tunnel, then up the stairs. On the way up, he murmurs a string of syllables I immediately recognize as the true name for light—sole-un-straw—and a gleaming white sphere appears at the top of the stairs to guide our way.
In the small room, I settle onto one of the pillows. Madoc paws through his box of snacks, his tail curling around his feet, and asks, “Do you prefer sweet or salty?”
It’s been so long since I’ve had human-made junk food that I’m not sure how to answer. When it comes to August’s cooking, the answer would definitely be “Sweet,” so that’s what I say.
Madoc tosses me a crinkly package that holds what looks like a chunk of chocolate cake in the shape of a half moon. I manage to tear the plastic open and take a bite.
The pastry is weirdly fluffy and yet sticky in my mouth, the white icing adding an extra punch of sugar. A memory wavers up—Mom didn’t like us having junk food much, but I think I had one of these at a friend’s house way back when…
Madoc has taken a cake of his own. He watches me as he eats his in quick but neat bites. “Not to your liking?” he asks in a tone I can’t totally read.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I just—it’s making me think of a long time ago, when my life was normal.” It’s hard to say whether the nostalgic sensation is good or bad. Maybe a bittersweet mix of both.
“Your life was never normal,” Madoc says. “You were meant for this from before you were born. You just didn’t know it until recently.”
I grimace at him. “It’s pretty much the same thing.” I pause. “Am I the only human Orion used that way?”
Madoc eyes me again, and I suspect he’s deciding how much it’s safe to say to me. “You’re obviously the only one he’s sent into the Mists to win over the fae of the seasons,” he says. “Which is for your good too, even if you didn’t get asked permission first.”
“Because I’m going to be in such a great position after he finishes his plans and conquers the entire fae world?” I say, reining in the sarcasm that wants to seep into my voice.
“You will be,” Madoc says, ignoring whatever he picked up from my tone. “You’ll have more freedom than you ever did under those fae, whatever favors the few who catered to you might have promised, and you’ll be respected as an instrumental part in seeing through our plans. But you’ll still get to be a part of a magic most humans never get close to.”
Does he really believe all that? I tip my head to one side, studying him in turn. “I saw today just how well Orion treats his own people who’re only trying to help with his plans. If that’s the kind of respect I can expect, I’m not sure I’m better off with it.”
Madoc’s gaze flickers. “Anyone who wants to join the fight right at Orion’s side has to be tested to make sure they won’t crumble under the real pressure. You’ve already accomplished everything he’ll ask of you.”
I’m not so sure about that. “So why do you stand with him?” I ask, partly out of real curiosity and partly in the hopes of unraveling a little more of his king’s plans. “Are you expecting some kind of great reward once the fae world is his? Assuming you even survive the battle, of course.”
“We’ll survive,” Madoc says darkly. “The Seelie and Unseelie are hardly prepared for what they’re going to face when we’re ready to launch our full attack. And I don’t care about any reward.”
My eyebrows arch. “Nothing at all?”
He gazes evenly back at me. “Nothing other than seeing all the other Murk like me throw off the bullies who’ve been treating us like dirt for so long. Every fae in this place and all the other colonies deserves to regularly breathe air that isn’t filtered through miles of subways system, to stay out in the sun rather than having to cringe in the shadows. They deserve to live—the centuries upon centuries most of the other fae get but we rarely see.”
Passion rings through his voice. I think he really means everything he’s just said. I can’t quite wrap my head around those words in combination with his support for Orion, though.
My defiance tumbles out before I can catch it. “You want to save your people. As far as I can tell, Orion is more interested in hurting fae—and not just the fae of the seasons. I saw how excited he was watching the fight. He’s insane.”
Madoc’s expression shutters. His voice comes out stiff. “If he is, then it’s the kind of insanity that allowed him to do what no Murk before ever has—to create our Heart, to bring us all together ready to take what’s ours. We’d have no chance at all without him.” He stands up abruptly. “I think you’d better be getting to bed now.”
The last of the packaged cake turns chalky in my mouth. I get up and follow him down the stairs, still puzzling over how a man who could profess such honorable goals so genuinely could also accept so much sadistic cruelty from the king he serves.
Was I wrong, and Madoc didn’t really mean the rest after all? He could be just as bad as Orion underneath, only better at hiding it.
I can’t count on either of them shifting their views, that’s for sure.
