Chapter 12
Alex landed heavily, scraping across rough stone as he skidded to a stop and scrambled to his hands and knees. He was back in the cavern.
A subtle scrape of movement came from behind. Alex caught his breath and whipped his head toward the sound, but he wasn’t fast enough.
Without warning, rough hands grabbed hold and hauled him to his feet. He struggled at first, flailing his arms and legs against the unseen assailant, but he was no match for the hold on him.
“If you struggle again,” a soft voice spoke near his ear, the tone oddly apologetic and polite, “We shall be forced to render you unconscious.”
They spoke with the same European accent, the same strange courteous manner as last time. It was Jonathan’s people, it had to be.
Alex wanted to lash out and fight but even if he broke free, then what? Where would he go? He forced himself to calm down. He didn’t how they would go about “rendering him unconscious,” but he was sure he didn’t want to find out.
Satisfied that Alex wasn’t going to put up a fight, his captors pulled his arms behind his back and bound his wrists with something wet and pliant. He tested the restraints. There was a small amount of give, but not enough for him to move his right wrist and use the suit.
A hood was pulled over his head, but not roughly. In fact, his captors were surprisingly gentle in the way they handled him. He prayed it boded well for their intentions.
Both the hood and the bindings had a strange, unfamiliar feel to them. The wrist bindings weren’t cloth or rope. They felt wet, but not dripping. They flexed a little when he pulled on them, like dozens of rubber bands were wrapped around his wrists.
A hand was placed on his right shoulder and, carefully, someone turned him around.
“If you would be kind enough to walk forward,” Alex was instructed. “You may do so without fear for your safety. We will guide your steps and keep you unhampered by obstacles.”
Certainly not the kind of courtesy he would have expected. It gave him courage to stand his ground.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Alex blustered, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. “Not until you tell me where I am.”
There was a prolonged silence during which Alex heard and saw nothing. He felt his captors shift behind him, but since he couldn’t see them he wasn’t really sure they’d moved at all. He turned his head slightly, trying to listen.
Finally he was nudged in the back with something hard.
“You will walk forward,” a new voice told him, this one deeper and much less friendly than the first. “You will do so now.”
“I told you—” Alex tried to object, but he was nudged in the back again, this time hard enough for him to lose his balance and pitch forward. The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip, barely keeping him on his feet.
“You will walk forward!” the second voice repeated, louder. “Now!”
Alex did as he was told. He could continue to stand his ground, but he had seen the way these people dealt with their enemies. He took a first, hesitant step, no choice but to trust that they would keep him from running into a wall or tripping on the uneven stone floor.
After shuffling forward only a few paces, the sound closed in around him. They must have entered one of the tunnels he’d seen when he was in the cavern the first time. His footsteps echoed back. He tried to zero in on the sound, to hear the footfalls of those surrounding him and gauge how many there were, but the only sound he heard was his own. How was that possible? There were at least two people with him, he’d distinctly heard two voices. One of them had a hand on his shoulder. Alex angled his head in every direction, but he couldn’t hear anything else. Who were these people?
They walked in silence for what seemed like hours. Generally, the floor sloped downward. At times the angle was extreme. Sometimes Alex could both hear and feel the tingle of air as they passed other tunnels leading away in other directions. The immensity of the cavern system wasn’t lost on him. If they could walk this long without stopping it meant the tunnels must go on for miles. The possibility of escape became less and less likely with each passing minute.
His escorts never hurried. In fact, if anything, they purposely moved slowly. More than once, a halt was quietly called. It was the only time they spoke. During those brief stops, Alex could feel tension in the air. He wanted to speak out, to ask what was happening, but he stayed silent for fear of being the cause of an attack.
Were they afraid there might be more of those strange, demon-men nearby? Alex shivered in fear.
The first time they stopped to rest, Alex sank gratefully to the floor. By then, he had absolutely no idea how long they’d been on the move. With the hood on there was no concept of time. His legs were rubbery and his hands were practically numb from the pulling of his bindings caused by the natural rhythm of his walking.
“Please,” a new voice said, a female voice, “drink.” Her voice was close. She must have been leaning or squatting down in front of him.
He felt something pressed to his lips and water splash out across them. He drank greedily, his body starved for hydration. Maybe it was just because he was so thirsty, but it was easily the best water he’d ever had. It tasted clean, and was so pure that his thirst was almost immediately quenched.
When he was done, he was pulled to his feet once more.
“We stand at the entrance to Domus,” the leader told him, a note of warning in his voice. “It is our home. Understand that we take great risk bringing you here. It is our fervent hope that you do not abuse our hospitality.”
Hospitality? Alex thought. Seriously? He stayed silent, knowing that any outburst might only make his circumstances worse. Once again, he was ushered forward.
As soon as Alex took the first step he was overwhelmed by sound. The hair on his arms stood on end as the air changed and he recognized the sensation of being in an immense, open space. In front of and below him, he could hear the echo of distant voices and movement. He craned his neck upward. Even with the hood still on, he knew there was open space for hundreds of feet above his head.
Whatever Domus was, it was huge.
He could also hear and smell water. The entire place carried a scent of dampness, but it wasn’t unpleasant or foul-smelling. It smelled pure and fresh, like the water his captors had given him to drink.
They urged him forward on tired legs, feet aching and sore. He navigated a long set of steps, ever sloping downward, his unseen guide keeping a tight grip on his shoulder to keep him from any misstep. Twice, he brushed his right shoulder against a wall of rock. From the breeze of air blowing up from the opposite side, Alex could only imagine what would happen if he stepped too far left.
Eventually the path leveled off and he was led straight forward. Here, the sound was different, the feeling of empty space now only above him. The voices he’d previously heard were all around him, some passing by as he trudged onward. He must have reached the ground level.
Finally, his guide squeezed his shoulder and murmured, “Please stop here.” Alex was surprised to realize it was a female who’d been showing him the way. The firm grip on his shoulder had made him assume it was a man.
“Please duck low,” she said.
She put a hand on the top of his head, pushing downward as he was guided down a short set of steps. The sound of Domus was swallowed as he entered into some sort of enclosure. Behind him, someone worked at his bindings with deft fingers, freeing him in moments.
Alex began to rub his palms and wrists to work the circulation back into them, but his right hand was grabbed and held tightly. The searing pain of a blade slashed through his palm.
He jerked his hand back angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?”
His only answer was the sound of stone scraping against stone.
When he finally got the courage to remove the hood on his own, he was alone in a small stone room.