Chapter 35

Ch. 35: Julian

"Are you insane?" Dane asks.

He's staring at me as if I've grown a second head, and I suppose I can't blame him; the idea sounds crazy to me, too.

"Maybe. But I've been thinking, and the more I think, the more it seems like the answers are in the Shadowlands."

"Why?" Freya asks. Her eyes are still red and watering, but her vision is clearing up a little. "What's the connection?"

"The skin-changers," I say. "There've been three separate incidents we know of: the first when my ancestor sealed off the caves, the second with Rhiannon and my grandfather. What's happening now is the third. Skin-changers are the common thread. They come from the Shadowlands, and if they hold the answers, that's where we'll find them."

"What about Darragh and these other Fae?" Dane asks. "I thought you said they were bringing you back to Faerie."

"They were. But thanks to Halloran, I escaped, and that changed their plans. Based on Darragh's demands that we meet him at the reservoir, I think the rogue Fae came from the Shadowlands, too," I say. "At the very least, I think they're using it as a base."

"How 'bout it, Red?" Freya asks, kicking the side of Erickson's leg where he sits. "What you know?"

Erickson scowls. "I only know what Halloran told me, which is what I told you. After Lagrange, I told him I didn't want no part of this insanity. Told him he could out me if he wanted, but I was done. Shit—I even went to church last Sunday, and I ain't a church-going man."

"What changed?" Dane asks. "Obviously you're here now, and you seemed pretty committed to the job a minute ago."

Erickson spits. "Money. And family.

"In that order, huh?" Dane raises a brow.

Erickson glares at him.

"I got a call this morning. Halloran's number, but it was this Darragh guy I talked to. He told me to get you guys the message about the trade. Said there was a reward in it for me if I did. I told him to fuck off."

"And then?" Freya prompts.

"Then he put my niece on the line."

"Savannah?" Dane's tone sharpens.

Looking ill, Erickson nods. "Yeah. Pretty sure it was her. She didn't sound scared. Just sleepy and confused. But I know her voice. Then Darragh got back on and said if I helped him get you guys, he'd make sure she got home safe."

"Fuck. Does her mom know?" Freya asks.

Erickson shakes his head. "That's the thing. I called Pauline right away, asked if everything was okay. She sounded normal. Said Savvy was eating breakfast at the kitchen table right in front of her. But with these goddamn doppelgangers running around, I don't know what to trust anymore."

"Savannah's family—they own any pets?" Dane asks.

Erickson glowers at him sullenly. "A cat. Why?"

"When you called, did your sister mention it?"

Slowly, brow furrowed with an almost comical mix of animosity and confusion, Erickson nods. "Yeah. She was miffed she had to miss yoga to take the damn thing to the vet. Said it won't stop hissing."

Dane and I share a look.

"Sorry, Erickson," I say. "But that's not a good sign. Seems like animals can spot the fakes."

"Fuck." Erickson wipes a trembling hand across his mouth, the light of desperation making his bloodshot eyes shine as his gaze darts from me to Dane and back.

Recognizing the look of a cornered animal, Dane's shoulders tense.

"We're on the same side here, Erickson," he says, a warning in his tone. "Help us, and we'll help you."

He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and for a moment I'm not sure what he'll do. Then he sags, defeated. "How?"

Dane glances at me, a question in his eyes, and I nod. He turns back to Erickson and extends his hand.

"Erickson, you got issues, and I don't like you. But you're still a cop. If Julian's right, then your niece isn't the only kid that the skin-changers have taken. Help us rescue them, and my sister, and Danni, and we'll help you."

"You want me to go with you?" He looks past Dane to the opening in the wall, his eyes widening with fright and the color draining from his face. "No way am I going in there."

"The alternative is I zip-tie you, duct-tape your mouth shut, and leave you here for the night watchman to find," Freya says. "Your choice."

Erickson's eyes flick from Dane's extended hand to Freya's wolfish grin, and back again. With a nauseated look, he accepts the hand and lets Dane help him to his feet.

Turning to examine the gaping hole, Dane bunches his hands in his hair and sighs.

"It's still insane," he says. "Even if we find the way in, there's no guarantee we could get back. Look at what happened to Stephanie."

"Stephanie panicked," I say. "She lost a lot of time and air, just figuring out which way was up. We'll know what to expect. I have some of her memories from the vision, remember?"

He nods, his features settling into a more decisive expression. "Alright, Julian. My dad used to say a good alpha knows when to lead and when to follow. You got the lead on this. The Shadowlands it is."

***

With Dane and Freya at my back, the tunnels are far less daunting than they were when I entered alone. Diving into unknown waters in a cave, however, remains a terrifying prospect. Like skydiving without a parachute, it's the sort of thing only highly trained experts with a death wish should even think about, and yet my fear is like a kind of background noise: persistent, but ignorable.

By some unspoken agreement, we traverse the passageways in silence, only speaking in a whisper when absolutely necessary. Even Erickson, whom I'd expected to be the kind of brash guy who laughs in the face of basic precautions, stays quiet as he walks between Freya and Dane.

Despite having been down here twice—and once quite recently—I still take two wrong turns before finding the entrance to the cave once more.

The cool, damp breath of the earth wafts over my face, and I shiver. We're in for a cold swim.

I duck low and step through the opening, my pitiful light doing little to illuminate the vast space beyond the lip of the chasm's edge.

Erickson's tactical flashlight, which Dane had confiscated, does a much better job and reveals the dark stone walls and the drop to the black waters below. Though I'd seen Danni's double dive from the top, I'm not willing to risk jumping into unknown waters and lead the way down the narrow path that spirals around the edge. Stopping at the small ledge where Halloran and I had first crossed paths with Rhiannon.

"Julian, you're a strong swimmer," Dane says, handing me the flashlight. "And you know what to look for. You go first."

With a hand held steady with an effort, I take the proffered light, and see Dane in a new light at the same time.

I'm terrified, and I wouldn't complain right now if he went 'alpha' on me and demanded to take all the risks, but I realize that he's scared, too.

I sense it as my skin brushes his, and as I absorb the lingering heat of his hand through the flashlight's grip.

That's what it means to be a leader, or an alpha: to be scared shitless and not let it show—or let it stop you from doing the hard, scary things you have to do.

That's his burden, and with the simple gesture of handing me a flashlight and placing his trust in me, he's offering to share it.

As equals.

It's a gesture of trust I want to deserve, and so (despite the fact I'm ready to piss myself) I accept.

And return it.

"Got any experience with this sort of thing?" I ask.

He nods, understanding my question. Addressing everyone, he says, "Take a few deep breaths before you dive, get your blood oxygenated. Any electronics you value stay here. They probably won't work in the Shadowlands, anyway, and you can retrieve them later. Excess clothing, too. Reduce the risk you might get hung up on something." Turning to me, he speaks more quietly. "You sure about this?"

"Nope. Just enough to think it's worth a try. Is this thing waterproof?" I ask, angling the flashlight at the black, mirrorlike surface of the water a few feet below.

"Should be."

"Shit."

I take a deep breath. My heart races as adrenaline spikes my blood and my muscles go weak and shivery. I feel like anything but an action hero. Dane rests a hand on my arm, but says nothing.

He doesn't have to. Through that gentle touch, I hear everything he wants to convey: that he won't think less of me if I back out, that he trusts and loves me, and that he'll literally follow me to hell if need be.

"Okay. Everybody wait here while I check it out."

I give him a smile and take another deep breath, and then a leap of faith.

I dive head first, as I'd seen 'Danni' do, and force myself to keep my eyes open. The water is freezing cold, and I clamp my lips shut against an involuntary gasp at the shock of it. I'm not a bad swimmer, but even the best swimmers don't swim fully clothed, and the heavy garments make my movements slow and laborious.

Fortunately, the water is crystal clear, and the flashlight is, as promised, waterproof. I swim downward in a spiral, keeping the beam angled at the almost sheer stone walls as I search for something like an opening.

About halfway down, and just as my ears begin to hurt from the pressure and I'm about to run out of breath, I find it: a circular opening about the size of a large sewage drain. Quickly orienting myself by a few surrounding features of stone, I shoot for the surface as fast as I can.

Breaking through, I fill my lungs with a gasp of air, then cough and flounder my way back to where Dane and the others wait.

"Found it!" I wheeze.

"We saw," Dane says, crouching to grab my hand and give me something to hold on to as I catch my breath. "This water's incredibly clear. One thing on our side, at least."

"It's also f-fucking f-freezing," I say, teeth chattering as the muscles in my clenched jaw spasm with cold. "Let's g-get this over with b-before I get h-hypothermia."

Dane nods and addresses the others over his shoulder. "Alright. Deep breaths, stay close." Turning back to me, he reaches down and touches the side of my face, his amber eyes faintly gleaming in the dark. "Be careful, but move fast. We'll be right behind you."

Nodding, I take a few quick, deep gulps of air, then fill my lungs one last time and dive beneath the surface again. Pushing off the wall with my feet, I shoot straight for the tunnel with the flashlight held in front of me as a guiding beam.

As the dark opening looms before me, panic rears its head. I don't know how long or wide the tunnel is, how long I'll have to hold my breath, or how far I'll have to swim, but I know one thing: if I lose it in there, we could all die.

No turning back.

Without losing momentum, I shoot into the tunnel. The light reveals smooth black walls that seem too perfect to be natural, and then something clicks: it's an ancient lava tube. The region around Spring Lakes is well-known for its semi-dormant volcanism, and these tunnels must have formed during the last period of major activity.

The thought brings a new fear. No sooner has it arrived when it's confirmed, as my watery vision reveals a divergence up ahead.

The tunnel splits in two—one larger, and one smaller branch. The smaller one leads off at a slightly downward slant, while the larger leads straight on. I head for the obvious choice of the larger tunnel when a thought gives me pause.

The choice before me is life or death, and I have a fifty-fifty chance either way. With three other lives in the gamble, I don't like those odds.

In desperation, I let my senses expand as much as I can in my half-panicked state. With water in my ears and my breath suspended, I'm left with vision and touch.

Reaching out with my free hand, I brush it over the smooth tunnel walls, but pick up nothing. Maybe Fae abilities don't work underwater.

By this point, my lungs burn with the need for air and claustrophobia closes in. I'm trapped in a tunnel too narrow to turn around in, with the way out blocked by three bodies and a deadly choice before me. I've just decided on the larger tunnel after all, when my hand brushes the wall and I pick up a very faint impression—a streak of energy, the trail of a creature in flight, shooting off into the smaller tunnel.

Still, I hesitate, immobilized by fear. Then, like a whisper, I hear my father's voice in my head, speaking the words from my dream.

Have faith, Julian. You will know when you see.

Gritting my teeth, I pray to any and every god that might be listening, and follow the shimmering trail of trace energy into the smaller tunnel.

A few feet in, the passageway narrows further and slopes downward at a steeper angle, and panic bursts into full bloom in my chest. Suddenly certain I've killed us all, I taste pure fear like hot iron at the back of my tongue and my heart goes into overdrive, burning through the last of my oxygen.

I'm gonna die, and so is Dane, and Freya, and—

The tunnel bottoms out and slants upwards again, and with a desperate burst of energy, I push myself forward and through. A sparkle of light glimmers above me—not trace energy seen with Fae sight, but actual light from above. With a fresh injection of hope and my whole body burning with the need to breathe, I shoot towards it and, with a relief so intense it hurts, break the surface and gulp down huge lungfuls of life-giving air.

A second later, Freya bursts from the water, inhaling smoothly, and hauls a choking, spluttering Erickson up after her.

As we struggle to shore, shivering with cold and relief, I see that we've emerged into a circular pool. It's roughly five meters across, and its black waters surge with sluggish waves as we disrupt its usually still surface. Dark ferns choke the stony shores, and the trunks of gigantic trees stand sentinel all around. Even if I hadn't recognized it from Stephanie's memory, the pervasive twilight gloom and strange, grayish light are enough to tell me where we are.

"Welcome to the Shadowlands," I gasp; and then, realizing he hasn't yet appeared, "Where is Dane?"