Kimber jumped when she was less than halfway down, landing silently and gracefully beside me. Ethan moved away, grabbing the torch off the wall.
“This way,” he said, leading us into the tunnel.
It was chilly down here below ground, and I had to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering. The mouth of the tunnel was lined with cement, but after a few feet, the walls, floor, and ceiling were all solid rock. I realized with a start that we were actually inside the mountain.
Other tunnels branched off from the main one, disappearing into the darkness, but Ethan kept going straight. I could definitely work up a big bout of claustrophobia if I thought about how much weight was pressing down on the roof of this tunnel. I forced myself not to think about it, but it wasn’t easy.
Eventually, Ethan led us down one of the side tunnels, and we weren’t more than a few yards in when I heard the echo of distant voices. Neither Ethan nor Kimber seemed alarmed by the sound, and though it was hard to tell in the echoing tunnel, I was pretty sure we were moving toward the voices. When I saw the golden-orange glow of firelight in the distance, I knew I was right.
Finally, we reached an archway, braced with heavy wooden beams. I followed Ethan through that archway, and then came to a stop, gaping at the sight that met my eyes.
The tunnels we’d been traveling through were clearly manmade, but now we were in what had to be a natural cave. Stalactites jutted from the ceiling like dragon teeth, and the chairs and sofas that were scattered around the floor were surrounded by stalagmites. Along one wall of the cave, an underground stream, clear and surprisingly deep, flowed.
The only light came from torches that dotted the walls and the sides of the largest stalagmites, but it was enough to illuminate the whole cave. There were about a dozen people in the cave, sitting in little clusters of chairs and sofas. They all stopped talking when Ethan and Kimber and I walked in, and I felt every pair of eyes staring at me. I’d never much liked being the center of attention, and I liked it even less now, when I was all rumpled and wrinkled and standing next to someone as gorgeous as Ethan. I told myself I wasn’t intimidated and stared back.
I’d say about half of the people in that room were Fae, and half certainly looked like humans. A couple of them held some of those el-cheapo clear plastic cups I associated with keg parties. (Not that I’d ever been to a keg party. I didn’t run with the crowd that went to them. Actually, I didn’t run with a crowd at all, but that’s beside the point.)
Belatedly, I saw the big metal keg that sat in the center of the cave. Ethan had said the apartments we’d seen before we descended were student housing. Looking from face to curious face, I estimated there were maybe one or two who were legally old enough to drink. At least in the States. I had no idea what the drinking age was in Avalon.
I gave Ethan what I hoped was an imperious look. “You went to all this trouble just to bring me to a kegger?”
His lip twitched into yet another grin. “Not exactly. Welcome to the most literal Student Underground on the planet.” The people nearest to us laughed at his stupid pun. “I’ll introduce you around later, but first I owe you some explanations.”
Pretty soon, our grand entrance apparently lost its entertainment value, and everyone went back to talking amongst themselves—or drinking themselves stupid. Kimber brushed by me and joined a couple of obviously Fae guys on one of the couches. She looked completely different once she plopped down between them, her ice-queen face thawing into a friendly smile, the stiff posture relaxing into something that looked almost human. One of the guys slung his arm around her shoulders, and she seemed to have no objection.
“She’s really not so bad,” Ethan leaned over and whispered. “I just bring out the worst in her.”
I figured a diplomatic silence was my best option. Ethan’s eyes twinkled, like he knew he hadn’t come close to convincing me. There was enough light now for me to see those eyes were a striking shade of blue, almost teal. They were not the eyes of a human being, despite the fact that he acted nothing like the stereotypical Fae. (Kimber, on the other hand …)
The other humans in the cave had dressed for the chilly temperature below ground, but my short-sleeved T-shirt left me shivering. The cold appeared not to bother the Fae. Ethan guided me to an unoccupied love seat. There was a knitted afghan draped over the back. Ethan handed it to me, and I gratefully wrapped it around my shoulders. Then he gestured for me to sit beside him. It was closer than I was totally comfortable with, but I sat anyway, huddling into the warmth of the afghan.
Ethan propped his elbow on the back of the couch, turning to face me. For once, he wasn’t grinning or otherwise looking amused.
“How much do you know about Avalon politics?” he asked.
“Umm … pretty much nothing.” I winced, hating to show my ignorance. I’d been thinking of living here. Surely I should have read up on more than where the best restaurants and shopping were.
The grin was back. “Don’t feel bad about it. Very few people who don’t live in Avalon or at least spend a lot of time here know very much. And what they think they know is usually wrong.
“You do know that in the past, humans and Fae have fought quite bitterly over Avalon.”
I nodded. Avalon was the most coveted, most fought-over piece of land in the world, beating out even Jerusalem. But there’d been peace in Avalon for over a hundred years, ever since it declared its independence both from Great Britain and from Faerie. It was now its own sovereign state, even though it was surrounded by England. Kind of like Vatican City.
“Avalon is ruled by what we call the Council,” Ethan continued. “There are a dozen general members of the Council: six humans and six Fae. The humans are democratically elected, and the Fae are not so democratically elected.” He went on before I had a chance to ask him what that meant. “There is a thirteenth member of the Council, the member who has the power to break any ties when the Council votes. That member is the Consul, and he or she is appointed by the Council.
“Every ten years, the Consulship must change hands between Fae and human so that neither race can have the majority for too long. The current human Consul must be replaced by a Fae in a little more than a year.” His expression turned sardonic. “You chose perhaps the worst possible time to decide to pay your father a visit, as the candidates are now crawling out of the woodwork.”
“Okay, fascinating as this civics lesson is, what I really want to know is what I have to do with all of this,” I said.
“Maybe nothing,” he said, and I think I did the look-like-a-moron jaw drop again. “We’ll have to wait until the sun’s up to find out for sure. I can’t explain that part yet. There’s a, er, test we’re going to give you when it’s daylight. That will tell us if you will play a role in reality, or just in your family’s most ambitious dreams.”
I stuttered, trying to ask some kind of intelligent question while my mind reeled in confusion.
“I know I’m being vague,” Ethan said. “But I don’t want to influence you and invalidate tomorrow’s test.”
“What kind of test?” I finally managed to ask, my voice sounding strangled.
He touched my arm reassuringly. “Nothing to be frightened of, I assure you.”
I’d be the judge of that! “And after I take this test, will I be free to go?”
He frowned, the expression almost like a pout. “You’re free to go now, if that’s what you really want. Would you have somewhere safe to go?”
From the way he asked, I guessed he already knew I didn’t. “Do you know if my father’s really in jail?” I asked instead of answering.