Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(53)

“Don’t you want to”—I dropped my voice—“escape?”

“I want to live.”

“This isn’t living.”

She glared, and I almost backed down, but warriors admired strength. She hadn’t said anything about the way I mimicked her exercises, but there was a sense of approval sometimes. She didn’t talk with me the way Aaru did, but she liked me better than the previous occupant of my cell and she was glad I wasn’t dead. That was something.

“Fine. I’m not really hungry, but toss it over.”

I did. First the bundle of food, the ends of the silk tucked into a fold so it wouldn’t come undone, and then the small water pouch Tirta had given me.

The food was gone before I realized she’d even opened the bundle.

“I have another,” I said. “For Chenda.”

In the cell next to Gerel’s, Chenda looked up at the sound of her name. But she didn’t move or reach out for her food.

“Pass it to her.” I tossed Gerel the third package, and though she tried to hand it around the bars, she was resolutely ignored.

“I don’t think she wants it.” Gerel eyed the bundle like she’d gladly dispose of its contents.

“We should share it,” I said at last. I wouldn’t accept defeat, though. This would not be my last overture of friendship. “If Chenda won’t eat it, then we should share it with the others.”

“You have food?” asked the singing girl down the line. Kumas. “I love food.”

Gerel frowned, but she said, “Yes, Mira brought food for you all. Make sure you share it evenly.”

There wasn’t much food to split between four people, and it would be a challenge to toss the parcel from cell to cell without spilling, especially since most of the cells weren’t currently occupied.

Gerel barked dire warnings about what would happen if they dropped food, or if the guards caught them, or if they even whispered about what I’d done. Miraculously, everyone swore to keep silent as they took some of the food and passed the rest on.

After several minutes went by, filled only with quiet moans of food-induced pleasure, the silk square came back to me. I pulled out a knot, and a smooth brown pebble fell to the floor: a weight, so the cloth could be tossed.

“Good job,” Gerel said. “They’re yours now.”

That hadn’t been the point of bringing food, but I hoped she was right.

AARU AND I made a short list of ways to prepare for our escape:

1. Help allies by feeding them.

2. Get stronger by exercising with Gerel.

3. Learn about the layout of the Pit, and especially its exits.

4. Behave for the guards so they wouldn’t suspect anything.

5. Look for opportunities to escape.

It wasn’t much, but given our limited movement within the Pit, the sharp knife of constant hunger, and our general lack of experience in great escapes, it was what we had. As if it were a dream that might slip away if we didn’t discuss it, we spent the next decan polishing our plan until it felt real.

And in the pure blackness after the noorestones went dark, I found Aaru’s hand, and we talked until we fell asleep.

“I ACCEPTED THE job.” Aaru’s whisper slithered through the dim space as I passed him a bundle of food through our hole. “Start tomorrow.”

A bright spark of hope shot through me. “Good. That gets us one step closer.”

He made a faint noise of affirmation.

“We’ve been here a month and a day now.”

Again, another noise—a barely audible hmph.

“Three decans and a day,” I said. “Thirty-one days.” Thirty-two for him, if we wanted to be accurate. Which my brain did.

Another hmph. Now he sounded a little annoyed. Of course he knew. Idris had the same calendar as the rest of the Fallen Isles.

I pulled back to the actual conversation, forcing my numbers to the background. “This is going to make a difference.”

“We will escape.”

Progress was slow, but we’d agreed from the start that we needed to be careful. Deliberate. We’d get only one chance, and we needed to make it work.

Fortunately, we had Gerel. She didn’t really believe we’d accomplish anything, but she played along. She knew the Heart better—she said—than any other trainee in her group, so she was able to give us a full list.

There were three exits:

1. The one I’d been brought through (it opened into a small grove of trees outside the city).

2. The exit for dragons (which I’d suspected, but now I had confirmation).

3. An exit into Warrior’s Circle (very public, not ideal for escape).

I’d have preferred to map the routes in my head myself, counting steps and intersections, but my movements were carefully monitored. Gerel’s instructions would have to do.

And now Aaru was going to work, too.

That meant he would be allowed out of his cell every day. He’d get to move around. Exercise. Eat. It wasn’t cleaning, like me, though. He’d been selected to work in the forge, where prisoners helped build the great chain links of the God Shackle.

Neither Aaru nor I had even half a clue about what the God Shackle was, so Gerel had rolled her eyes and explained that it was part of the Khulani solution to the Great Abandonment. Decades ago, when it was first noticed that there were fewer dragons than ever, the Khulani people had begun work on the immense chain—to literally bind their god to the seabed.