of the underborns who had perished in the fiery stream. When she cleared the window’s glow, she jerked off her coif, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her pocket.
As she continued, the tunnel darkened again, and her lantern’s flame burned green. The familiar sounds of this darkest portion crept into her ears a chorus of squeaks from bats hiding somewhere in the recesses of the tunnel; cascading water from the stream falling into Lucifer’s Pool; the tiny splashes of minnows in their never-ending pursuit of larvae; the incessant pounding of a chisel in the hands of a faraway laborer, probably one of the girls desperately trying to get her magnetite quota from the trenches; and finally . . . yes, there it was, the pleasant warble of Naamah’s song.
Mara peeked into the seedling room. A trio of lanterns hung from the high reaches of the cavern, casting a blend of yellow light and crisscrossing shadows. Mara hid her own lantern behind her back. Naamah’s singing meant she was probably in a good mood, but Mara didn’t want to take any chances. Better to wait a few minutes and watch for signs of bad temper.
Her mistress raised a watering can over a tiny potted plant. As always, she crooned in a haunting contralto.
To grow and live, escape the flames
Of darkest nights and endless toil,
O stretch and thrive my precious flower
And drink the rain from fertile soil.
As she sprinkled the plant, it stretched out two stalks at its sides, like a man waking after a long nap. A thumb-sized pod between the two stalks turned its face toward her, two eyelets blinking as drops streamed down its green skin.
Naamah smiled and continued her song, cooing at the pod as a mother would to a baby.
A day will come, my little child,
When roots transform to warrior’s feet
And stalks become tight fists of steel
To grind all men like sifted wheat.
Mara walked in, but a new shadow from the far side of the cavern glided into view. Morgan! Mara stopped and clenched her teeth. What now? She couldn’t run back to the passageway. Morgan would notice for sure. She froze in place and listened.
Morgan stepped into the light and applauded. “The echo compliments your voice, Naamah. It’s more beautiful than ever.”
Naamah spread out her black dress and curtsied. “The male plants seem especially fond of my singing.” She chucked the pod under its tiny chin. “This one is my favorite.”
“Actually, the females are more important right now.” Morgan waved her arm toward Mara. “The most impetuous of the girls seems smarter and more talented than any males in the land above, though she can be treacherous enough to betray even a twin sister.”
Mara balled her hands into fists. She wanted to stomp her foot and shout a defense, but that would just prove Morgan’s “impetuous” comment. She breathed deeply and buried the insult in the pit of her stomach along with all the others. Still, heat rose past her cheeks and inflamed her ears. She hoped Morgan wouldn’t notice.
Morgan glared at Mara. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I . . .” Mara swallowed and took a tentative step forward. “I’ve come for a new spawn. My growth chamber is ready.”
Morgan raised her eyebrows. “Has Mardon checked the magnets?”
“He taught me how.” Mara withdrew her vial and held it up. “The magnets are perfect.”
Morgan’s frown slackened, but her brow stayed taut. “Very well.” She turned to Naamah. “Is number four of suitable size?”
“Yes.” Naamah pointed at a plant near the passageway, close to where Mara stood. “It’s almost too big for the pot already.”
Morgan nodded at the plant. “Get it and be on your way. I’ll be by to check its growth soon enough. Your chamber had better be perfectly balanced, or you’ll take the next step past banishment.”
Mara tried not to flinch, but she couldn’t help it. She knew what that meant. As she thought of the terror in Acacia’s face, her lantern flickered weakly, as if sympathizing with her pain. She gathered the pot in one arm and hustled back into the passage, but her lantern winked out, leaving her in darkness except for the light from the seedling room behind her. Mara halted. Could she go all the way through the dark part of the tunnel without a light? Would the bats notice her? She turned back and leaned against the wall, peering at Morgan and Naamah. She didn’t want to ask for light, not while Morgan was still around. Maybe she