Caranotta Book I Chapter 1

Caranotta Book I
Chapter 1

Just a few steps beyond that corner and she would slip from the corridor's sight. Talia's breath came sharp and ragged as she ran barefoot over the stone, fleet as a shadow, her heart beating outside her chest, shielded only by a torn shirt. Behind her voices rose. Shouts, snarls, growls, and splintered screams hurled through the hallways like blades. Sound skittered along the stone walls as though the entire mountain knew where she was, as though it breathed with those hunting her. They knew she was gone. And this time, she was the prey

Talia ran with her pulse lodged in her throat and the taste of blood in her mouth. Sweat mingled with dust and burned her eyes. There was the fissure in the mountainside she had marked. Narrow, but deep enough. She lunged toward it, thrust her left leg inside first, and twisted her body down into the stone's cold embrace. Rock tore the shirt from her shoulder. Don't think. Don't feel. The jagged edge gashed her thigh, ripping yet another wound through the worn fabric. The mountain showed no mercy. It carved a glistening slice across her skin. She clenched her teeth. Oh no, she thought. Too tame. Fuck. She bit her lip hard. The blood would betray her. Here, here is a living heart. Come and tear it apart. But not yet. Please, not yet. She needed time. Time for the blood to dry, for the scent to fade and blend with the copper ghosts already staining the stone, silent witnesses to other open wounds.

She forced herself deeper into the crevice, pushing through like water threading its way into stone. Her bones ached in protest. Pain bloomed in every limb, yet still she pressed on. Thoughts came like storm gusts. What the hell had she done? How could she ever have believed she was different? That she could succeed where no one else had? No one had ever escaped. So why her? Because Tenko still breathed. And that was all that mattered. Because no one else could do it. He had been the only one to truly see her that first day. The only one who soothed her battered soul when bruises and lash marks reached too deep. The only one who could comfort her without words, just warmth, a glance, a hand on her shoulder. She wouldn't fail him. And because the Voice had told her. The one always with her. It had never lied. It saw her, every fracture, every hopeless humiliation, and the wildfire burning beneath. She pushed deeper, until darkness swallowed her whole. Another shout. Closer now. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back to the morning she made her decision.

"Tenko. Come here."

Grasgo's voice was iron wrapped in silk, though the room no longer flinched at it. It had heard such commands too many times before. His words dropped through the air like molten lead, and Talia understood exactly what they meant. She had felt it coming. The faint tremble in the floor, the crackling breath behind the door before it yawned open like a hungry mouth. There was no time to act. The command fell, and something inside her shattered, quiet as glass breaking in the dark. Tenko had been sleeping. Not peacefully, but heavily, worn down to the bone. He was a human made of wounds. Grasgo seized him by the hair and tore him upright. Tenko didn't cry out. Not this time. Only a muted grunt as his body dragged across the floor. Talia screamed.

"No! Not Tenko!"

She hurled herself forward, without plan, without weight, as though she could throw her whole soul at Grasgo and hold him back. Her fingers closed around Tenko's ankle. Even knowing it was useless, she refused to let go. He looked at her with a sorrow so vast it seemed to hold stars. He shook his head, barely making a movement. A silent no. Not for himself. For her. Don't, his eyes pleaded. She heard it as clearly as breath.

Still, she wouldn't let go. Not until Grasgo struck. She slipped, her knees scraping stone, and her grip tore free. She was left behind on the cold floor with a hollow ache where her heart had been. The last thing she saw of Tenko was the soles of his feet vanishing through the doorway. Silence settled like velvet lined with thorns.

The children lay still, radiating fear that laced the air like threads of ice. Talia crumpled, knees to stone, forehead in her hands. She didn't sob. She couldn't. She mustn't. If anyone heard, they would take her too. Perhaps they would now anyway. She trembled from the truth. She was no longer safe. She was next. Tenko had shielded her when she arrived. And now, she couldn't protect him. He was gone, like the others. The children who had dared to resist. The ones who vanished. Erased, one by one, as though they had never been. The thought struck like fire in her chest, like a blade sliding beneath her ribs. I can't live with this. It stabbed, coiled, burned. I can't live… can't live… can't live… Despair swallowed her whole. And then another thought arose like a voice behind a sealed door. Not like the others. This one came wrapped in fire, not fear. I must save him. The words rang through her, undeniable and absolute. A quiet, searing resolution burned itself into her bones. Her eyes glowed, even in the dark. No one saw it, but that didn't matter. Something had awakened. A new purpose, fragile and ferocious, like a rose born of flame. It wasn't only Tenko. It was all of them. All the children wiped away like dust in the dark. All who vanished one by one, leaving only silence and hollow stares. She was done with fear. She would find them. She would find him.

They had discovered her absence far too soon. The Grimes thundered through the tunnels, breath heaving, boots striking sparks from the stone. First the main passage, then the side shafts. They hunted her like ravenous beasts. The silence that followed wasn't calm, but stretched taut as a drawn bowstring, trembling with danger. Talia pressed herself against the cold mountain wall. A metallic tang filled her mouth, as if the rock itself were trying to seep into her bones. The Lady's voice split the dark like a blade, cold, venomous, and so sharp it could flay skin from flesh.

"Find her, you fools!"

The Grimes surged through the tunnels again, their footsteps multiplying, echoing wildly, as though the darkness itself had joined the hunt. Talia didn't move. They reeked of sweat and earth. Their eyes gleamed like charred glass beads. Their nostrils flared, always sniffing for fear, or blood. She made herself smaller, imagining their whiskers twitching like those of rats.

And they had a rat. The enormous one they kept leashed so it wouldn't tear the children apart with its grotesque fangs. Dangerous beyond words if ever unleashed. She knew, deep in her marrow, that it was part of the hunt.

She felt him before she heard him. Grasgo. The stench of rotting fish struck her like a blow to the gut, slithering down her throat, twisting her stomach. His footsteps drew closer. He stopped. Just centimeters away.

"I smell her here," he snarled.

"No one could hide in that crack," Seilos said, but his voice wavered. She heard him sniffing, a wet, guttural sound. He leaned closer to the crevice. Talia clenched her eyes shut. Held her breath. Each heartbeat slammed in her chest like a smith's hammer.

"Grasgo!"

The Lady's voice again, jagged and rusted, slicing through the gloom. He cursed, growled deep in his throat, and pulled away. Their footsteps drifted back into the shadows.

Talia didn't move. She lay like stone against stone, time suspended, until at last her eyes opened. The silence had returned, but it wasn't safety. Dare she crawl out now? What if the Rat caught her scent? 'Soon,' said the Voice. Her heart still beat, but faintly now, like the echo of a sound lost deep within her chest. She reached inward, groping for her foresight. You can't count on me to always be there, the Voice had once told her, gentle, but unwavering. You must find the power within yourself. Your own foresight. It had always been there, long before the Voice. A force humming beneath her skin, an unsleeping sense. At first, it had come in flashes. Later, she had learned to wield it. And now she needed it more than ever.

She closed her eyes and turned inward, letting her focus rest on the space between her brows. From there, she slipped outward, like silver smoke, drifting into the main passage, which stretched before her like a dark artery, pulsing and waiting. Empty. No Grimes. No Rat. She had a chance. She snapped back into herself and twisted her way upward. The stone pressed hard against her back and got her breath caught tight in her throat. What if she got stuck? No. She couldn't think like that. She found a hold with her toes and pushed upward. It was like swimming through rock. Inch by inch she climbed, until her arms tore free of the crevice's grip and her fingers hooked the edge. She dragged herself onto the cold stone floor and lay there with chest heaving. Eyes closed, foresight open. Still no Grimes, but their voices echoed in the distance, sharp and low, carried by the darkness. She rolled to her side and rose slowly. The dark pressed close against her skin. And something had changed.

A memory stirred, of the group that once mined here, seeking grupsis, that strange metal carved from the mountain with dull knives, hammers, and files. She had never learned what the Lady and Lord used it for. Perhaps the Grimes didn't know either. But one did. The Commander. He had visited the mine only a handful of times. Each visit, the children stood stiff as iron while he inspected them. One moment, above all, had seared itself into her mind.

She had been twelve. He stood before her. Tall, cloaked in shadow, unmoving. His eyes, hidden beneath his hood, were not human. Vertical slits, yellow as tarnished gold. His gaze slid down her body, measuring her. Not a child, but something else. Then his hand rose. Blades glinted between his fingers, as though they grew from his flesh. Pain struck. Blood spilled down her neck. Her ear tip fell to the stone. He said nothing. Just walked on. She had stood frozen. No tears. No scream. Only the tremor of shock shaking her body. When the delegation left, she collapsed.

And Tenko was there. He picked up the bloody fragment without a word. But she saw it in his eyes. He remembered. She had hidden what she was for so long. Covering her ears with hair, skin dirty and chilled until its color dulled. But he remembered her skin was as green as her eyes. Talia had held her breath as he lifted the severed ear tip. Prayed he didn't recall what she truly was. That she wasn't human. He said nothing. Only guided her to the dormitory, found a ragged blanket, tore a strip, and pressed it to the wound. She let him. Nothing had changed outwardly. But how had the Commander known? She swallowed hard. She couldn't linger here. She had to move. She had to save Tenko.

Foresight breathed to her. The main passage is still empty. She saw what couldn't yet be seen. Talia gathered herself, braced her hands against the stone, and pushed upward until she stood on her feet, trembling in the opening. She cast one last glance behind her, down into the narrow dark that had cradled her in silence. The side tunnel. Damp, close, shadows clinging to the walls, air heavy with the red smell of old blood. Down there, she had felt the pressure of the earth behind the stone. The mountain curling around her hiding place like a womb. Like a tomb. The sweet, metallic tang of grupsis clung to her tongue and nose, that strange ore woven through the rock. But the time for hiding was over. She had to emerge. She had to move. 'Clear!' The Voice this time was sharp and urgent. She ran.

The stone floor caught her weight but betrayed her too, slick and treacherous. Her feet slipped once, twice, but she didn't fall. There was no room for mistakes now. Her heart pounded like a war drum, its rhythm echoing up through her skull. She sprinted toward the next patch of shadow and dove behind a mound of dark grupsis, landing hard. She stayed there, panting. Her foresight reached outward, groping for the next move. She listened to the rhythm in the dark. Silence. She bolted again. And again. And again. Faster, faster. Each step a prayer. The Rat was behind her. She could feel it, its hunger, its breath, its scent trailing her like a curse. There. A flicker of light. The main entrance. Daylight carved silver lines across the stone floor. So close now. But this final stretch would demand more than speed. It would require cunning. And luck. Foresight wavered within her. Restless and warning. The Rat was moving. It wasn't too close, but not nearly far enough behind her. She pressed back to the rock with her lungs burning. Now she had to see without being seen.