79. I keep bumping into monsters

“Did you hear that?” Aberyl cried out.

I heard clumsy footsteps in the rubble, and Korther croaked:

“Spirits and demons, that can’t be.”

“Do you perceive it too?” Aberyl asked.

“I’m not sure,” Korther replied.

Using my weakened energies, I cast a light spell. I botched it, I think, but Aberyl exclaimed:

“There!”

The rocks rolled away, something released my right arm, and I saw light through my eyelids. I opened them and saw the blurred faces of Korther and Aberyl.

“He’s alive,” Aberyl rejoiced. “Help me, Kor. Don’t be a dawdler.”

“Hold on a moment,” Korther stopped him. “I have just one question for him. Mor-eldal. Can you hear me? I hope so, because I need an answer. I heard that you ended up in Frashluc’s hands once again. Did you tell him about the tunnel? Just say yes or no.”

I did not hesitate: I spoke the truth. And I whispered a:

“Yes.”

“Devils,” Korther swore. “Give me one reason to get you out of here alive, lad.”

I was unable to give him any. I had a headache, I was thirsty, I was dying, blasthell. I was not able to think logically.

“Stop with your nonsense, Kor,” Aberyl hissed.

“No,” Korther replied. “This is serious. I’m not going to get him out of there if he doesn’t give me a reason to do it. Just one, lad. It can’t be that hard. Think about it.”

I loosened my lips, breathed in, and stammered at last:

“Live. Water.”

“Yeah,” Korther huffed in exasperation. “I meant a reason for me to forgive you for your total lack of loyalty.”

“Damn it, he gave you a reason: now lend me a hand,” Aberyl rapped out. “Surely you don’t want him to die because of you.”

They freed me, not without difficulty, and had to carry me, for I could not stand. They laid me against a rock, and Aberyl gave me water. He said:

“You’re luckier than a thousand demons, boy. And, damn it, it looks like the tunnel has opened all the way down. Now we’ll have to put up some black steel grates to keep the unwanted beasts at bay… Did you say something, kid?”

I nodded and stammered:

“Dragon.”

“Dragon?” Aberyl repeated, puzzled.

I blinked and said again:

“Dragon.”

Then Korther cursed.

“An earth dragon! But of course. Yabir says that many of the tunnels in the depths are dug by earth dragons. I never thought they could come this high… Now that I think about it, it could be a big problem,” he added meditatively.

“You mean the tunnel we’re making probably won’t last more than a couple of days,” Aberyl grumbled in disappointment.

“Well,” Korther sighed. “I’ll ask Yabir. Surely there are ways to scare the earth dragons away. For now, let’s go back up. You never know, it might come back.”

The mere prospect of facing the dragon again gave me strength to get up. I tried to ignore the pain and staggered forward to what seemed to be the way back. I heard a clearing of the throat behind me.

“I think I’d better carry you, boy,” Aberyl interjected. “At least a little way. On one condition,” he added, stopping beside me. “That you promise never to throw me a mortic shock ever again. If you do, goodbye friendship.”

I looked at him, staggering. Friendship? What friendship could there be between us when I had just said that I had betrayed them?

I nodded, however, and as Aberyl hoisted me onto his back and I clung to him, I suddenly felt the urgency to justify myself:

“He threatened to kill my family. The barber’s family.”

Korther passed by and seemed to ignore me. However, after a while, he said:

“It’s easy to threaten. But think about it, kid, Frashluc will never take that many risks. Killing some gwaks friends of yours would be a waste of time, and killing a barber and his family in Tarmil… an unnecessary risk. Most likely, it would be him killing you, and that’s it.”

I frowned. His words sounded false to me. I knew full well that Frashluc was capable of killing anyone he wanted. And just the doubt—which was almost a certainty for me then—that I could condemn my family if I didn’t do as he asked made me a puppet in his hands. It was shameful, but I could not avoid it. And it hurt me that Korther wanted to make the horrible mess I was in seem unimportant.

After a silence interrupted by the puffing and blowing of the two demons, I asked:

“What day is it?”

“Mmph. Fifth Youngday,” Aberyl panted. “You’ve been down here for a day and a half.”

I swallowed. So the three days had not yet passed. I could still go to Frashluc.

The climb was endless. After a while, Aberyl put me down, and I had to walk. The water had cleared my mind, but I was still sore. I could barely move my right arm and I was limping with one leg. All because of that damned earth dragon.

Korther and Aberyl had been talking about the dragons earlier, but they had been silent for a while now, huffing and puffing regularly because it was a thousand demons hot down there. Not as hot as in the Salbronix mine, but close.

We came to the crossroads, and instead of going in the direction of The Crazy Nut, we took the other one, the one from which I had failed to get out. As we moved away from the crossroads, I saw a figure sitting in the shadows, and I supposed it must be a Black Dagger standing guard.

At one point, Korther quickened his pace, and I tried not to fall behind, especially because I wanted to see how he opened the secret passage… I could not figure out the mechanism: as soon as Korther arrived, the rock turned, and the way opened. When I reached it, with Ab’s help, we emerged into a subterranean room full of… books.

“Good mother,” I blurted out, amazed.

The door closed, and where there had been a large hole, there was now a shelf with very old-looking volumes. If I had not been exhausted, I would have asked what this place was, but in my condition, I simply let myself be drawn in. We went up through a trap door, and they had to help me up. And bingo: another strange room. There, guarded by two Black Daggers sitting quietly at a table, were a bunch of locked cabinets. I almost asked what was inside, but I held back, thinking that the less I knew, the less I could tell Frashluc.

We were walking down a corridor when Korther suddenly opened a barred gate with a large key and said:

“Come on in, kid. I’ll call Rolg. He knows a little about medicine.”

When I glanced inside, I stiffened. It was a simple room with a straw mattress and a trunk. It reminded me of a prison cell. I shook my head.

“I’m all right, sir. As long as you let me come back with my friends…”

Korther clicked his tongue, and his devilish eyes flashed.

“Tell me, lad. What probability is there that on the way you will visit Frashluc?”

I froze in my tracks. My reaction spoke for me. Korther sighed loudly.

“That’s why, lad, you’re going to stay here for a few days, until I decide what to do with you. Get inside.”

My mind began to work frantically. A few days! I couldn’t stay a few days. I had to get out at once or Frashluc would carry out his threat. I shook my head vigorously.

“No, sir, please…”

Korther’s eyes flashed with disbelief.

“Yeah, sure, please let me betray you all,” he taunted. He gestured authoritatively toward the cell. “Get in.”

I looked him in the eye and, to show my disagreement, backed away. Aberyl was right behind me. I began to build up mortic energy in my hand and raised it… The problem was that my arm was half asleep, and Aberyl caught me by the elbow before I could reach him. I would have still be able to throw the shock without using my mortic hand, but through my skin the power was greatly reduced. Ab shook me, hissing:

“No, you won’t, you damn devil. Do it, and I’ll cut your hand off.”

I looked at him in despair, but his face did not soften. He pushed me in, and as soon as he had let go, he jumped back just in case, and the gate closed. I saw Korther turn the key quickly in the lock and then step back.

“Don’t try to get out of here, lad. You won’t make it. And, if you do make it and leave, I’ll kill your whole family.” He rolled his eyes. “You see, I, too, can make threats. Come on, cheer up. You’re alive. And we saved your life. Show some gratitude. I will send Rolg to you.”

They walked away down the hallway and I stood behind the bars with the urge to throw myself against them until they or I broke.

As soon as I heard the door to the corridor close, I went to the lock and examined it with a perceptive spell. It was not one of those locks that could be easily forced, let alone without a picklock. I took inventory of my possessions: torn and blood-stained pants, a tattered shirt, a nakrus amulet, a musical necklace… That’s right. I remembered putting a nail in one of the pipes of the little flute. Was it still there? I looked and pulled it out, triumphant. If the walls had been built of bricks, escape would have been easier, but they were hard rock. And since I was in an underground cell, there were no windows.

Okay. I opened the trunk. Inside was a blanket and a rough cloth shirt, in good condition, adult size, but who cared: I would nab that one as soon as I found a way out of there. I heard a door open and stiffened. Damn. Boots clacked and came closer, and in the light of the torch in the hallway, I saw a muffled Black Dagger pass. He glanced at me, but he did not stop, and I soon stopped hearing his footsteps.

I had been sitting quietly on the bench. I got up and was back by the bars when suddenly I saw a figure in the hallway. He was not much taller than I, and he wore a cloak which mimicked the surroundings strangely well. He was walking forward with hesitation, and when he saw movement from my cell, he stopped short. We stared at each other for several strange seconds in silence. Who was this child? What was he doing there? Spying, perhaps? Strangely enough, for some reason, it occurred to me that the figure I had seen at the underground crossing was, in fact… him.

We were startled by the sound of boots, and I felt the boy’s sudden fear. He stirred, and then he rushed to my gate and, as if by magic, opened it, slipped inside, and turned his back to me, maybe to lock the gate again. I stretched my neck in amazement.

“How did you do it? Do you have the key?” I whispered.

The boy did not answer, and merely moved to one side so that no one passing in the corridor could see him. He looked at me with such intensity that I thought it best to whisper to him:

“Don’t worry, I don’t snitch.”

He said nothing, so I walked over to the gate and made a face as I recognized Rolg. I stepped aside and opened the trunk.

“Get in there,” I hissed at the boy. “The one coming is here to fix me up. You hear me? He’s gonna see you if you stay there.”

The footsteps kept coming closer, and the boy still did not move. In the end, at the last moment, he decided to listen to me, and I closed the lid just in time. Rolg stopped for a moment at the gate.

The old elf wore the same dark green cloak as always, so similar to that of my nakrus master that I had trusted him from the first day I met him. I’d had a good scare last spring when I’d seen him transformed into a demon, but contrary to what I’d feared, our relationship hadn’t suffered any great change… except that I’d barely seen him since, between the mine, the prison, and the spirits knew how many other messes.

“Hello, boy,” he said to me after a silence.

I smiled nervously and tried not to look at the trunk.

“Ayo, Rolg.”

The old elf took out a key and opened the gate. So the boy in the trunk really had locked it. But how?

“I’m glad to see you again, boy,” Rolg said, closing behind him. “Sit down and take off those rags. Do you hurt anywhere?”

I huffed. Was he kidding? I was hurting all over! I pondered for a moment and finally nodded:

“The arm. It’s still bleeding a little.”

“Sit down,” Rolg repeated.

He came with a bag, and took out a small bowl, and filled it with water, and as I obeyed and took off my clothes, the old elf lit a lantern which he carried, and sat down on the bench to examine me. I knew that he did not know much about medicine, he had told me so himself. But he helped me to clean the wounds, and bandaged the dog bite on my right arm, for it still looked ugly, and when I told him of the blow on the head, he laughed incredulously.

“Next time it’ll be a devil that’s pushed you down a ravine,” he joked. “If I were superstitious, I’d believe an evil spirit had possessed you, son. Anyway. I brought you a little bottle of radrasia to make all your ills go away. I know Yal wouldn’t like it, so it’s just between the two of us, huh? I’ll get you something to eat.”

He patted me on the shoulder, smiling, and stood up; I did the same.

“Rolg,” I said.

If it hadn’t been for the boy in the trunk, I would have liked the old elf to stay a little longer… but now that I had some small hope of getting out of there, impatience was eating away at me, and instead of asking him, “Are you leaving already?”, I just said:

“Thank you.”

The old elf looked at me, his face serious.

“You know, kid? Just now, I was remembering the day I found you, at the fountain in Gray Square, with a bone between your teeth.” He smiled, “That day I thought, ‘there’s something special about this little one, he’ll make a great Black Dagger ’. On the first point, I was not mistaken. On the second… you still have a long way to go.”

Under his gaze that was waiting for an answer, I nodded nervously, and as he opened the gate and locked it, I breathed in and said with some fervor:

“We all have something special. My mates, anyway. They’re all great gwaks. And they’re not Black Daggers. And they’re doing fine. They don’t have to crawl into a tunnel and pop off under rocks. They don’t have to go into a palace to steal things. They don’t have to work for anyone. They’re free.”

I fell silent, and Rolg, perhaps surprised by my outburst, remained silent for a few moments before the bars. Then he sighed.

“Obviously I was wrong,” he said at last. “I’m sorry, kid. I shouldn’t have taken you in that day.”

And with these words he left, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I understood that I had hurt him, but I did not understand why. My words had been the pure truth.

But maybe his were true too.

No, I said to myself. I was wrong. Because if it hadn’t been for Rolg, I wouldn’t have known Yal, and the mere thought of this possibility made me shudder… I heard a little knock and jumped. The trunk! I went to open it, and the boy came out. I whispered to him hopefully:

“Can you open the gate again like you did before? Can you help me out?”

The boy was dark-haired, with very pale skin and blue eyes almost as light as Yerris’. The collar of his cloak was turned up, so I could not see the bottom of his face. He made a strange detour, as if to get away from me, and, fearing that he would leave without me, I blocked his way.

“Hey, you’re not leaving without me, friend. Say something to me. Are you dumb? My name is Draen. What’s yours?”

I could hear his sigh, and finally he croaked something through his teeth. I did not understand a word.

“Good mother, don’t you speak Drionsan? It can’t be. Where do you…?”

I fell silent. Yes, where did that boy come from? If he was fleeing from the Black Daggers, and could not speak Drionsan, and was covered with dirt… Stunned, I blurted out stammering:

“N-no way. You’re from below? From the Underground? But… was the dragon chasing you or what?” I paused and said in Caeldric, “Do you understand me now?”

The boy had his head down, looking thoughtful, but as I switched to Caeldric, he raised it suddenly and his eyes sparkled.

“You can speak the language of the land?” he said.

His voice was shrill and hoarse. It gave me the creeps.

“Yes, I can,” I confirmed, glad he understood me. “I was saying, are you from the Underground?”

I saw him nod cautiously, as if he was not quite sure he understood me. He asked:

“Do you know a way out of this territory?”

I frowned.

“A way out of…? Well, no. Actually, I came in here from the tunnel, too. But I can help you. If you can open that gate like you did before. You can do it, right?”

The boy gave a wheezy sigh and replied:

“I can. But I don’t need help.”

I flared my nostrils in annoyance.

“But I do,” I replied. “I’ve been locked in here, and I don’t have a damn tool. Help me out, and I’ll help you. Nobody speaks Caeldric out there. I speak it because I had a master who taught me. Besides, it’s not true that you don’t need me. Didn’t I just help you by putting you in the trunk, huh?”

Ha, I got him there. The boy from the Underground looked me in the eye with such a stare that I wondered: doesn’t he need to blink or what?

“All right,” he said at last. “My name is Arik.”

I smiled and replied pompously, clutching my cap:

“Draen the Sharpy Survivor, at your service. Shall we go?”

“Wait,” Arik said. “Before, we have to trade a very important item. That’s how we make real deals. I’ll lend you this. It belonged to my mother.”

He handed me a round black stone with white spots. Shocked and embarrassed, I asked:

“A very important item?”

Arik nodded with extreme seriousness. I swallowed. The only important item I had was Azlaria’s necklace. But I also had the music necklace, and Arik didn’t have to know that it wasn’t that important to me… Acting like the good, seasoned gwak that I was, I pressed my lips together, looked hesitant, and finally took off the music necklace, saying:

“My master gave it to me before he left. Don’t lose it, eh?”

Arik’s blue eyes smiled.

“By no means.”

By no means, I repeated to myself. He spoke like an adult. We exchanged objects, and Arik pulled something out of his cloak. A metal wand. He inserted it into the lock of the gate, and it opened. I gasped.

“How the hell…?”

Arik motioned for me to follow him, but before I went out, I muttered a:

“Wait.”

And I went to get the shirt from the trunk. I went out into the hallway as I put it on and followed my new companion. I still couldn’t believe that this boy was from the Underground. Unfortunately, this was not the best time to ask questions, and I focused on not getting caught by any Black Dagger. When we reached the end of the hallway, we climbed some long stairs and came upon a massive door. I pressed my ear against it and felt the energetic vibration of an alarm in the lock. I reached out with my right hand with effort, and in a few moments, I disabled the alarm. Then I whispered to Arik:

“Can you open it?”

The boy tried with his metal stick, and I saw him concentrate. A magara, I understood. He must activate the wand, which was somehow able to blow the bolt off… Any thief would dream of having such an item!

We pushed open the door and found a sort of large storeroom. There were people on the other side of the room. Surrounding myself with harmonic shadows, I entered, let Arik pass, and closed the door, stylishly reactivating the alarm. Ha, what did Rolg say again, about me not being able to become a great Black Dagger?

We squeezed through the crates and all sorts of paraphernalia and then stayed still until the two talking Black Daggers pushed something into the wall. To my amazement, the wall pivoted and a way out opened up. Another exit. Blasthell, there were secret passages everywhere…

The wall closed again, and we were left in darkness. I could make no harmonic light. We groped around, came to the magic wall, and I whispered:

“Do you have any idea how…?”

I fell silent when I heard a clatter and the wall turned. A hand grabbed me and pulled me into a well-lit hallway. Voices could be heard at one end of the corridor. We went to the other side. We entered a room, and I sighed with relief when I saw that it was empty. I limped over to a window and peeked in. Bingo! We were on the ground floor. I put my hand on the handle and went to look for some alarm when I heard the voices coming closer in the hallway. Blasthell. With frantic movements, I turned the window handle, opened it seemingly without activating anything deadly, and, already straddling the edge, turned to Arik… and frowned. The subterranean boy looked as if he were frozen to the spot.

“Arik!” I hissed.

I heard laughter in the hallway. They were coming! I bent down, grabbed Arik, and pulled him towards the window. At last, he reacted a little, and we got out. However, no sooner had we turned the corner than Arik let out a muffled croak, and I became worried.

“Arik? Are you okay?”

He did not answer, but as we were still very close to the Black Daggers’ nest, I decided that the most urgent thing was to get away.

It didn’t take me long to get my bearings: we were on the border between the Cats and Tarmil. Not far from the barber shop. I didn’t let go of Arik, and knowing that if the Black Daggers tried to pursue me, it would be in the direction of the Cats, I headed for Tarmil Avenue. From the position of the sun, the afternoon had just begun, and I still had hours to go to The Yellow Dragon. On the Avenue, with all the people there, I’d be quite inconspicuous in my adult shirt that reached to the knee: I was a gwak, period. The problem was that the Black Daggers would be precisely looking for a gwak.

After several glances at Arik’s cloak and boots, abruptly changing my mind, I led him into a dead end and said:

“Let’s change our clothes. For an hour. Just for an hour. I need it,” I insisted.

And as Arik said nothing and looked wide-eyed at the sky, I reached out a hand to borrow the cloak. I pulled down his muffler… and froze, flabbergasted. Under his muffler, I saw… My heart began to beat rapidly. As if I had given him a mortic shock, the boy snapped out of his daze and gave me a murderous look before closing his mouth and covering his face up quickly.

I gasped. I had seen two fangs. Humans did not have fangs. As far as I knew, no sajit had fangs. That could only mean that…

That Arik was a vampire.

Suddenly the boy threw himself upon me and pressed me against the wall with surprising force. In his shrill voice, he hissed:

“You can’t betray me: we made a deal.”

I looked at him, horrified, and stammered:

“I-I won’t betray you. Ever. I swear.”

Inwardly, I thought: I’ve just run away from the Black Daggers with a vampire from the Underground! No more, no less. Damn, I might as well have run off with the earth dragon, it would have been quicker. Why? I moaned. Why did all the weird things always have to happen to me? It must have been that evil spirit that Rolg didn’t believe in but I was beginning to believe in more and more firmly. In a drowned whisper, I repeated:

“I swear. I won’t tell.”