After Tobias does the same, the guards leave, slamming the cell door behind them.
The air in the master cell is thick with resentment and tension, and maybe guilt. I can’t imagine how it feels to have killed in a blood sport—to know you may only need to end a few more lives—only to be told you have to take even more.
Then again, these people might simply be angered that their wins have been removed, that they’ve been set back. Some of them have been chosen because of their fierce reputations in their realms. They may have more blood on their hands then the Otherworlders.
Lena retires to her chamber soon after Kaide and Orion leave, and Caben and I are alone in the master cell, the training room open to us.
Caben walks over to me and lowers himself into a squat. “I know you’re out here for a reason,” he whispers. His eyes flick over my face, and I study the scar slashing the side of his temple and cheek, my eyes tired and slowly closing.
I give my head a shake, waking myself out of the sleepy daze. “Do you know much about tracking devices?”
His lips quirk into a side-grin. “Yes,” he answers simply. “Technology is just one of the things Perinyians are very good at.”
I allow him to bask in this victory, as I’m not technologically inclined, but wonder about the rest of his unspoken claim. What other skills does the prince harbor that I’m unaware of?
As if he knows my plan, Caben flips his cuff and inspects the backing. He reveals a thin metal pin from his waist band, then works the hinge of the cuff. I raise an eyebrow. “It doesn’t have a tracking chip,” he says, turning the cuff around and showing me the back. “It only ticks down an algorithm. I assume, for number of kills.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “We have to be certain.”
He nods. “Yes. A monitoring chip needs a special processor with a cooling device.” He takes my hand and presses my fingers to the back plate of his cuff. “It’s cold. The outside would be warm as it heats up to cool the inside of the chip. Bax lied. There’s no biometrics.”
Confused, but willing to trust his knowledge, I nod once. Then I study the stones set on the front of the cuff. Their milky consistency is familiar, and the blue sheen reminds me of the surface of the—“Moonstone,” I say, as it comes to me.
Caben’s head snaps back. But my mind is slowing putting together the Otherworld.
I look up at him, and ask again, “Are you sure we can’t be tracked?”
He nods. “I promise.”
“Then we have seven and a half hours to find our secret passage.”
The waterfall trickles next to me, its narrow stream glinting off glassy, smooth rocks worn down by the water over time. I wedge my boot into a crevice along the rock wall. “Hand me the light-stick,” I say to Caben.
“Here,” he says. The spray splashes my arm as I reach behind me to grasp the light that he pried from the training room floor. I glance over my shoulder. His face is cast in a dim blue-gray hue, his eyes illuminated under the dark glow. “I should be the one climbing while you keep a lookout.”
Tucking the lighted stick into the front of my tunic, I remind him, “We’ve already discussed this.”
“Yes, but you’d be better at coming up with an excuse,” he says, a crooked smile curving his lips.
For a moment, I’m worried he’s right. Then I recall his elaborate plan, the one that led me all over downtown Cavan as I unknowingly helped him plan an escape. “I doubt that.”
His smile widens and he winks. Ignoring his smug expression, I reach up and grab ahold of jagged rock, then hoist myself up. I’ve nursed my injuries, and kept from moving and tearing at my healing wounds too much, but there’s no doing that now. Every aching muscle, every bruised rib feels the burn as I climb.
The rock wall reaches as high as one of Cavan’s smaller buildings, but I don’t intend to climb to the top. I just need to find an opening, a cavern or tunnel, something that might be hidden it in the dark.
Following the waterfall, I continue upward, slowly finding new handholds and footing. I’m tempted to glance down, make sure that Caben isn’t in trouble, but I don’t want to know how high I am.
When I try to grasp the rock above my head, my hand slips through air. Grabbing a jutting stone to my left, I maneuver sideways and up, then lean against a large rock. Taking the light-stick from my tunic, I hold it over the opening. It’s just large enough to crawl into.
I suck in a deep breath and look down. Caben is maybe about twenty feet below. I can barely make out his form. I wave the light, signaling him, then toss it into the cavern. From inside here, there’s no way for him to warn me if the guards or Bax return.
Alyah, keep him safe.
The chilled cave narrows, the water flowing in a shallow stream beneath me as I crawl. There must be two waterway mouths that connect, intersecting to create the waterfall that we fill their canteens from.
After a couple of minutes, the tunnel widens and I stand, squinting against the darkness. I dig the light-stick from my tunic and hold it up.
My breath hitches.