Page 18 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

“Are you well?” my father asks while lowering himself into a chair across from us.

“No, I’m not well. I am far from well, Father.”

“I know. I imagine this is a lot to take in, and a lot has happened. You’ve grown up after all.”

“A lot to take in.” A high-pitched laugh makes its way up my throat as I think about how casual he’s being and everything I’ve gone through.

Colton reaches over and places his hand on my knee, squeezing it slightly. “Do you want something to drink, Lyra?” he asks, giving me a look telling me I need to relax.

“Yes, I should have asked all of you that first. Let me grab us some drinks.” My father moves across the room to a cart filled with different decanters and glasses.

“Breathe,” Colton whispers in my ear. My father returns with three glasses, handing one to each of us and reserving one for himself.

“Please tell me about yourself. Tell me about your life,” he says, and I take a sip of the amber liquid he gave me, clearing my throat and letting the warm liquor settle my nerves.

“I’m not going to tell you about myself, not right now. I need answers, Father.”

“Then please ask me anything.” He moves his leg to rest his ankle over his knee.

“Well, for starters, what was that place, those tunnels we were in?” I ask.

“Those are the Tunnels of Mystweave, and they run beneath Zomea,” he says but doesn’t elaborate.

“And the wall of blood, the portal Lyra was about to step through before you encountered us?” Colton says, taking a drink from his glass but keeping his eyes on my father, Euric.

“That was simply a portal from the tunnels to Zomea. There are many of them found all throughout the tunnel system that bring you to the surface,” he explains.

“What about the beating, the consistent thud that echoed all around us?” Colton turns his head to me, and I remember now that he couldn’t hear it. My father’s eyes narrow for a brief moment. “I don’t know of any beating. Maybe you hit your head when you unlocked the bridge.”

I have to resist rolling my eyes, because now they are both looking at me like I’m crazy.

“What about the whispers and screams? It sounded like they were chasing us. You heard them too,” I say, turning to look at Colton, who nods in confirmation.

“The tunnel walls are lined with a unique mineral that enhances the voices of the deceased, producing a haunting symphony from time to time. The whispers you hear are the dead voicing their secrets, regrets, and hidden desires.”

“That’s creepy.” I pause, shaking my head. “I don’t understand. I thought Zomea is where everyone goes in the afterlife. Why would anyone down here be dead, and for that matter isn’t everyone down here technically dead?” I ask, rubbing at my forehead.

“Zomea is not the afterlife, not in the way you are made to believe it is back in the realms. When you die, your body drops into the most dangerous section of the tunnels. We call it the Abyssal Chasm. You have to fight your way into Zomea or choose to die the final death.”

I reposition in my chair, unsettled. “What happens if you die the final death, and why would anyone choose that?”

“One may choose to die because they want peace, or one may simply not pass the tests to get out of the Abyssal Chasm, losing the fight,” he says, his eyes drifting to the fireplace.

“What happens to those who die the final death, and what do you have to fight to make it to Zomea? Why didn’t we have to fight anything?” Colton asks.

My father seems to watch the flames lick the edges of the mantle, looking deep in thought. “Those who die the final death, only the gods decide what happens to their souls. All I know is they don’t make it to Zomea. As for your other question, what one may face in the chasm is unique to them. Everyone experiences something different, and everyone is tested in a way that uniquely caters to them. It’s decided by a higher power, one I do not fully understand myself, and before you think about asking what I faced, don’t. It is for me to know.” He takes a long drink from his glass before turning back to face us. “What do you think of the spirit?”

He holds up his glass, eyeing the liquid.

“It’s different. What is it exactly?” I ask, lifting my glass and taking another sip. It warms me from the inside out, and I hadn’t realized how badly I’ve needed to ease my nerves.

“It’s called Magma’s Kiss. Some fool named it. It’s aged in casks made from porous lava rock. The flavor grows on you.” He downs the rest of his spirit and places his glass on the table between us. “You didn’t have to face anything in the tunnels because neither of you died. You didn’t pass through the Abyssal Chasm. Instead you unlocked a bridge straight from the Lamia Realm into the Tunnels of Mystweave. You did the very thing I have been working most of my life to achieve, and you cannot possibly understand how extraordinary this is, Lyra.”

His lips curve up, and a softness settles into his features that would make anyone want to trust him, but I quickly remind myself my father is the most powerful king to have ever ruled over Cloudrum, one of the most powerful Fae and now quite possibly the ruler of Zomea. He clearly has an undeniable skill for getting people to trust him, believe in him, and follow him. I will not let myself fall for his cunning.

“Why did you kill Nyx’s parents, Callum and Scarlett, when they were your friends?” I ask, straightening my back in my chair.

“That is a very long story, Pixie, and there is a lot of history there that you don’t understand.”