Thorns by Kate Avery Ellison Page B

door slid sideways, revealing a cavernous hole. The scent of mud and dampness rushed up at me.
    I didn’t dare call out for Adam. I thrust my foot inside and found a ladder bolted against the wall of the shaft. Grabbing the lantern, I opened the shutters so it gave a little light, and then I began to descend.
    The lantern cast a pale yellow glow across the stone and dirt surrounding me. The hole was narrow, almost like a well and my sleeves brushed the sides as I climbed. Above me, the Frost was just an indigo circle against the blackness.
    The suffocating sensation of being trapped pressed against my throat like invisible fingers, but I fought the panic down and kept climbing. I was almost there.
    Finally, mercifully, my feet touched dirt. I stepped down from the ladder and turned toward the scent of musky air that wafted toward me, betraying some further hollowness ahead.
    “Hello?” My voice echoed faintly up the tunnel I’d just descended.
    The scuff of a footstep made my hair prickle. I lifted the lantern and fumbled for my knife.
    The shadows stirred and formed a human shape. “You made it,” a voice said quietly.
    My heartbeat slowed a little as I recognized him. “Adam.”
    I stepped away from the ladder, and the light from my lantern illuminated the space—walls of stone and earth, shelves stuffed with books, a rug thrown over a dirt floor. Several black boxes sat on a desk, and I wanted to ask what they were, but I didn’t dare.
    The light illuminated his face. “Any sign of Watchers on your way here? Any glimpse of tracks?”
    He must have heard about the missing men. Had he worried about me arriving unscathed? I couldn’t tell from his expression.
    “None,” I answered, trying to look as unaffected as possible. I allowed myself to glance around at the shadowed corners, the boxes, the dark earthen ceiling and walls. “What is this place?”
    “A Thorns meeting place much like the one beneath your barn,” he said, still watching me as if looking for signs of stress or fear.
    “It seems…old.”
    “They were built long ago. We’ve only adopted them for our use. It is secret, so do not reveal it to anyone else.”
    “I won’t.”
    The lantern light steeped his face in shadow, making inky pools of his eyes, and it was hard to read his gaze. The intensity in it made me shiver.
    “There isn’t much time,” he said, “and I want to keep this brief. Do you swear to follow the orders of your superiors, risk life and limb for the cause of the Thorns, and keep your mouth shut about your secret activities?”
    I choked on a laugh. “Is that really the official oath?”
    His mouth quirked in a faint smile. “No. But it’s very long, and out here in the Frost we skip most of the formalities.”
    “I swear it,” I said. “Wait. Who are my superiors?”
    “You should probably ask questions before swearing to things,” Adam said dryly, turning his head to hide another smile. “As to your question, your immediate superior is me.”
    “Were you my parents’ superior, too?”
    “I was.”
    A shiver went through me, a little skitter of feeling that left quiet assurance in its wake. I was literally taking my parents’ place.
    “Any more questions?”
    I had a thousand questions.
    “How many operatives are in the Frost? Is your entire family involved?” I remembered his brother, Abel, joining us the night we took Gabe to the gate.
    “That,” he said, “is not your concern. We are not aware of all the others who might be Thorns operatives for purposes of security. That way, if you are caught and tortured, you cannot give away a list of names even if you want to. You know your immediate superior and any operatives below you, should you ever be in that position.”
    Tortured . I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Does…does it happen a lot? Being caught and tortured, I mean.”
    Adam tipped his head to one side as if he were considering whether he wanted to reassure or frighten me with