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A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(115)

Author:A.K. Mulford

“Careful,” Grae said, skidding to a halt.

I peered around him to a crack in the tunnel floor. It led to a gaping precipice bisecting the path.

“Hold my hand.” Grae swapped his candle to his far hand and grabbed my sweaty palm.

Pressing his back to the wall, he shuffled out onto the narrow bit of path clinging to the wall. I twisted sideways, looking down to the black abyss. The tips of my boots hung over the ledge as I shuffled on my heels. There was nothing to grab on to. If this tiny strip of earth gave out under my heels, we’d plummet. And, judging by the distant echoes of rubble falling into the pit, it was a long fall.

Grae reached the far side of the chasm and I leapt the rest of the distance to him. His arm yanked me upright as my legs wobbled. There were hollow caverns all around us. At any moment, the ground could give out from under us.

A skittering sound made our heads snap to the right.

“Dear Moon, let it be a squirrel,” I muttered, raising my candle higher. I didn’t spot any movement, only inch-wide holes in the rock. “Or a mole.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Grae said. “The sooner we get out of this bloody place, the better.”

“Agreed.” I lowered my hand as candlelight glinted off the shimmering pieces of ore. “If the souls who dwell in this gilded tomb knew who I was . . .”

Grae stepped around an overturned cart. “This was not your wish, little fox. Or your doing.”

Bugs scuttled across rotten slabs of wood.

“But would I have even questioned it—this place—if I had grown up in a castle?” I clutched my candle tighter. “If I grew up in silks and tiaras, would I have ever wondered about the humans mining our gold?”

“Who knows who we could have been,” Grae whispered, the candlelight dancing in his eyes. “But I’m grateful for who you’ve become.” He whispered the words as if they were meant only for himself.

The path narrowed, sloping downward as the tunnel pressed to shoulder width. All at once, the ceiling disappeared, opening into a massive cavern. Darkness stretched out from all sides, the air cooler. I held my candle higher, but every direction ended in shadow.

“Gods,” Grae cursed.

Two lengths of waist-high rope stretched out toward the other side. The path below our feet became so narrow we had to step one foot in front of the other. My stomach lurched as Grae stepped out onto the thin land bridge, and I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat.

I gripped the rough rope with my free hand and stepped out after him, praying the other side wasn’t too far in the distance. The sound of our heavy breaths cut through the eerie quiet. Each step made my legs feel lighter until I was shaking so badly I thought I might fall.

“Nearly there,” Grae whispered as I inched forward.

Little clicks and chitters sounded along the stone. My hand gripped the rope tighter, splintering hessian into my palm. Something scuttled over the back of my hand and I yelped, waving my candle wildly in its direction.

“What was that?” I hissed as Grae turned toward me.

“Calla, don’t move,” he commanded.

“Oh Gods, what?” I didn’t obey, glancing down at my shoulder.

A centipede-like creature skittered over my shoulder and I screamed, dropping my candle to flick it to the ground. My candle disappeared into the abyss and I stomped on the creature. Losing my balance, I nearly toppled over the ledge. Arms wheeling, Grae grabbed me and pulled me against him.

“Curse the fucking Moon, I said don’t move,” he muttered, holding me tighter.

“That’s the worst thing you could say if you want someone to stay still,” I growled.

He huffed, lowering his candle to the squished insect.

“What is that thing?” It was longer than a centipede, with a scorpion-like tail and beetley eyes. I toed it and a long thin thread trailed out of its face. It curled out like a cracking whip.

I retched. “Is that a tongue?”

“It’s a juvleck,” Grae said.

My eyes widened. “Like the ones painted in your castle?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought they were bigger than Wolves,” I gasped.

More chittering sounds echoed up the walls.

Grae gripped my hand. “Keep moving.”

He picked up the pace, hastening to the hole in the rock that led to the other side. The ground below us trembled as the scratching sounds grew louder.

“Oh Gods, oh Gods,” I cursed, moving faster as gooseflesh rippled across my arms. I knew, though, the Gods had forgotten this place a long time ago.