and people sludge and dirt there’s a paved street.
God, Katharn is so damn gross. I am ready to leave this city as of yesterday.
Aron squeezes my hand. “Silent, if you can,” he murmurs. “We don’t know how much sound will carry down here.”
He’s right, but I can probably guess. Even those quiet words ring with a hollowness, echoing in the oversized tunnel. There are more distant rings of light up ahead, and I don’t know if I’m glad to see them or frustrated. Glad because there’s at least some light in this awful darkness, and frustrated because it means we’re so close to the street above that it feels like we could be caught at any moment. All they have to do is look down.
I cling to Aron’s hand as we walk. Eventually, the sewage gets deeper and we’re no longer splashing through the muck but wading in knee-deep water. The stone under my feet is cold, the water too, and before long, I’m shivering and my toes feel like ice. The noise from the streets above grows quieter, and we’re either moving away from the busiest parts of the city or it’s getting late and they’re heading off to bed. My teeth start to chatter and I bite down on the edge of my hood to quiet them, trying not to think about how much sewage I might be covered in. All the poop in the world doesn’t matter if my clacking teeth give us away. So I clamp down, keep quiet, and walk.
Aron doesn’t seem to get tired, so I try to do my best to keep up with him. When the tunnels fork, he picks path after path, as if he knows where he’s going. For the most part, the tunnels don’t seem to be a bad path to take, for all that they’re filled with sewage. It’s private, mostly level, and it seems to be going somewhere.
In a way, it’s also beautiful. Because as moonlight from the double moons pours in from the grates above, it illuminates just how precise and gorgeous the ancient stonework is. Every now and then I see something that looks like a sigil carved into the rock, and it makes me wonder about the civilization that vanished, leaving nothing but dirty, scrubby Katharn behind.
But damn, why did they need such a big freaking sewer system?
We walk until my feet start to slow, and Aron has to hook me by the elbow and pull me along beside him. I’m trying to keep up, but I’m not used to this sort of thing and my cloak and clothing are sodden with the wet sludge that seems to get higher with every step. Eventually, Aron pauses to let me catch my breath, his mouth a firm line of displeasure.
“I’m sorry,” I wheeze, adjusting the bag on my back that’s digging into my shoulders. “I’m trying.”
“I know. It isn’t enough, though.” He takes the pack from my shoulder and slings it over his. After another glance around, he points at a grate in the distance. “That looks like the last one for a bit. We’ll climb out there.”
“Is it safe?” I can’t help but ask.
“None of this is safe,” he tells me, voice cutting. “But we can’t stay here all night.”
“Why not? We’re already covered in poop.”
“Because this is a sewer and the water’s rising.” Aron looks at me like I’m stupid. “The tide’s coming in. Unless you want to drown in someone else’s shit, we have to get out of here.”
“It is?” I look down and sure enough, I guess the water (if you can call it that) is higher than it was before. I thought it was because the tunnel was just, getting deeper in this part, but it’s past my knees and soaking the hem of my tunic. “I didn’t realize.”
“How is it I’m the immortal and you’re the one that has no clue how a city works?”
I slap his arm, irritated. “Don’t you start that shit with me. You want to know how it works where I live? We go into a tiny little room, sit on a toilet, take a dump, and then jiggle a handle and the magic poo gods take it all away. Whoosh. That’s it. That’s the extent of my knowledge. Once a month I pay the water bill and that’s all I do. So if your stupid city doesn’t work the way my stupid city did, don’t blame me.”