by Rob J. Hayes
Hardt nodded, keeping his eyes on the imp in front. "It's all in the way he prepares it. Grinds it into a paste and mixes it with something. But if you eat them, it just gives the night sight and makes eyes glow yellow a bit. Looks like these things have been living off them for years."
"I think it wants me to take it," I said. I stepped forward and reached out, plucking the shroom from the imp's hands. No sooner had I taken it, the little creature scurried away, still keeping its head down. A moment later another one moved forward to take its place, another shiner held up to me like some sort of offering.
I think each and every imp came forward to give me a shroom and before long we had a pile of hundreds of the little fungi. It probably shouldn't have surprised me. Just like our life in the Pit, food was the most valuable thing to the imps of the ruined Djinn city.
"At least we're not running out of food anymore," Yorin said, already chewing on a shroom. "Tastes like arse though."
After the tributes stopped, the imps backed away, waiting out in the gloom. I could see them still, hundreds of them just watching us. I thought them mindless back then. They were a poorly studied inhabitant of the Other World. Most Impomancers ignored them, preferring monsters, beasts, or horrors; things that could be used to fight. At least, most terran Impomancers did. The pahht have done extensive studies into the more docile inhabitants of the Other World, but that information was not given to the Orran Academy. I knew little about imps at the time, though. I now wish I had known more. Perhaps I might have noticed the warning signs. Perhaps I could have communicated with them, asked them to show us a safer way out.
We gathered up the shrooms, filling two bags and our stomachs with the things. I have rarely tasted anything worse, but Hardt assured us they were edible. He has always been very good at knowing which things we can eat, and which will likely kill us. Though he has gotten it wrong a couple of times and we have all paid the price.
The imps continued to watch us from a distance. They didn't seem the least bit concerned by naked steel, yet my movements were marked no matter how small they might be. More than once the whole chittering crowd shifted just because I turned my head. Eventually, one of them dared to come close again. It plodded forwards with its eyes down and both hands held above its head, palms up towards me. That imp looked different than the rest; older somehow, though I couldn't say how I knew it.
"What does the little monster want now?" Isen asked. I ignored him. I think I was already getting quite good at that. It was easier to ignore Isen, than confront him and the mistake I had made.
The imp was still there, silent and patient while the others behind it chattered to each other despite having no ears. To this day I'm still not sure why I did it, but I reached out and touched the upturned palms of the imp. Just one finger and so light a brush I was almost surprised the creature had felt it over its callouses.
The older imp immediately pulled its hands away and began nodding its big head, stepping backwards and keeping its eyes on the ground.
"What did you do?" Yorin asked.
Before I could answer another imp approached. This one was smaller than the last. It too kept its eyes on the ground and held its hands up above its head. I could see a large fleshy sac dangling underneath each of its armpits and both appeared to be wriggling slightly. I admit, at the time I felt disgusted by the sight, thinking the sacs to be some sort of growth or tumour. In truth that was simply how imp's nurture their young until they are large enough to walk and eat for themselves. I knew very little of the creatures at the time. These days I have three full tomes on my bookshelves dedicated to the various species of imp.
Again, I reached out and touched the upturned palms and again the imp backed away into the anonymity of its brethren. And another stepped forwards. This went on for some time. I lost track of the number of imp palms I graced with a touch, but I'd wager it was most of those gathered around us. Isen obviously balked at the delay and also because while the little ritual was taking place the imps remained nearby. They scared him, I think. But that was likely because he was a coward. The others were more patient, even Yorin, though I think he soon bored of it all.
It was some years before I learned the true significance of what I had done there. All I really knew at the time was that the imps had given me some shrooms and I had touched a few palms. I think Ssserakis found my ignorance amusing. The horror knew exactly what had just happened. I had given them a blessing of sorts. The blessing of an overlord, one made to rule them. In touching their palms I had granted them leave to continue living their lives, accepting that the tribute they had paid was sufficient. Imps are used as slaves in the Other World just as they are in Ovaeris, but these creatures were free. And I had just given them my blessing to remain so.
Eventually we made the decision to leave. Isen refused to put his sword away even as we struck out from the great hall. The imps cleared away from us, shielding their eyes from the lantern light, and followed in our wake, keeping a good distance. It put us all a little on edge, but I think we were safe enough from them. Even if they were violent, they would never have tried to harm me. Not while I was carrying Ssserakis inside.
Tamura led the way, ever our guide. His sense of direction is almost as good as my own. I have always been able to feel which way I am facing. It was important back then, to know where we were in relation to the Pit. The last thing we needed, once we were finally above ground and free, was to walk straight back to the prison from which we had just escaped. The Terrelan garrison stationed there would either kill us on sight or throw us right back, at which point, Deko would have certainly killed us on sight.
I found myself stroking the pouch at my belt. Even with a stomach full of shrooms I still felt hungry. It wasn't food I was craving. I wanted power. Unfortunately, Spiceweed needs plenty of sunlight to grow and there was no chance of me finding any deep underground. The Source was simply too dangerous for me to swallow.
Tamura led us up a stairwell and the imps followed behind. It was strange hearing the soft slap of so many feet echo around us. Yorin took the rear on the stairs. He was steadier than Isen and more willing to violence than Hardt. The best rear guard we had. Isen grumbled all the way, mostly under his breath but with the odd outburst to his brother. I ground my teeth and closed my eyes to it. To say my feelings had soured would have been an understatement. Lust is a flame that burns everything it comes in contact with. It consumes until there is nothing left to feed it, and then all that's left behind is ashes and scars on all those it touched.
Just before we arrived at the collapsed corridor Tamura had selected, I noticed the imps becoming agitated. They were still following behind us, far enough back to stay out of the lantern light, but they started making a loud noise for the first time. It's strange to think of creatures with mouths but no ears speaking. They can form words but not hear them, like a terran born deaf. I wondered if they knew what sort of noise they were making. They seethed as well. A tide of pallid flesh surging forwards and retreating over and over again as they made clicking noises with whatever passed for a tongue in their mouths.
"The path to freedom," Tamura announced, pitching his voice to be heard over the noise of the imps.
The corridor ended in a mountain of rocks and stones. It was quite clear that no cave-in had caused the blockade. The ceiling was intact. No one wanted to mention it though. We were too focused on getting free to care about what we might be unearthing.
"Do you get the feeling they don't want us here?" Yorin asked me as he passed by. He put his knives away and set to helping Tamura and Hardt shift the rocks, clearing enough space for us to squeeze through.
I stood next to Isen, watching the imps chatter and move behind us. He held his sword in hand. I left my own sheathed at my side. None of the little creatures dared come within the lantern light or meet my eyes. I knew they wouldn't attack. Or maybe I just hoped.
"Get away, you little beasts!" Isen shouted, waving his sword and stepp
ing forwards, holding up the lantern he carried. The imps retreated but only for a moment. Only while the light was close.
"Shut the fuck up! They can't hear you." My voice was perhaps a bit more severe than I intended. I wanted Isen to shut up and leave the poor creatures alone. "Help dig. I'll watch them."
Isen snorted. "If they attack, you'll need someone who knows how to fight by your side."
I sighed and relented, ignoring his repeated attempts to make the imps flee by waving things at them and shouting. I think Isen did it more to reassure himself that they were scared of him than anything else.
Hardt cursed, something about improper use of a goat's mother, and then the grating of rock against rock. The imps turned as one and fled into the darkness.
"I knew it would work," Isen said triumphantly, as though it were his shouting that had scared the imps away. I sent a glare his way then turned to the others. They were still pulling rocks out of the way, but I could see an opening at the top of the rubble large enough that I could crawl through.
"Stop! Stop." I rushed forwards, touching each of the diggers on the shoulder. They all paused and waited. I turned my head to the side, straining my hearing.
"What..." Yorin started, but I hissed at him and he fell silent.
"I hear… something," I said.
Tamura nodded. "The wind."
It was true I could hear the howl of wind echoing from a distance, but I was certain there was something else. A noise carried on the wind. A different howl. For once I was glad of the cold I felt inside, it stopped that noise from chilling my blood.
"It's just the wind, Eska," Hardt said. I realised he was holding a rock as large as my head and could see his arms straining with the effort. I stepped back and let them continue digging.
There're worse things than imps down here. The thought sent tingles up and down my spine. It's a strange thing feeling yourself grow stronger as though feeding on your own fear. That should have given me pause, an indication that the ancient horror I thought I had pacified was inside. It should have told me just how closely we were now linked.
Once the gap at the top was large enough Hardt scrambled up and through the blockade. Tamura passed a lantern through and followed. I made Isen go through and then Yorin. Yorin stopped next to me before climbing through. He gave me an odd look for a moment.
"Those things," he pointed back down the corridor where the imps had fled, "were scared of something through here. I'm willing to bet they blocked it off, and for good reason."
I shrugged at him. "You want to find that way out or not?"
Yorin just smiled and scrambled up and through the opening. I followed, but not before a final glance backwards. I wondered whether the imps were waiting back there in the darkness, or if they had fled, leaving us to whatever fate we encountered.
Once we were all through the barricade, we started forward, following the feel and sound of the wind. Tamura and Hardt led, holding a lantern each, and Isen and Yorin followed behind, weapons drawn. I was no longer angry at Isen for his bared steel. It was strange, but the corridor seemed darker there, as though the gloom was even more oppressive. It took a while to realise there were no light gems embedded in the walls. They had all been gouged out.
We were only a few dozen steps in when we heard sounds behind us. Isen snatched a lantern from his brother and ran back to the barricade. Already some of the rocks we had moved were back in place. I heard imps scatter the other side.
"Little slug kissing fuckers are sealing us in!" Isen shouted.
I took the lantern from him and handed it back to Hardt, fixing the younger brother with a stare. "If they do, they do. No way we can stop them, and no bloody reason to try."
"We could kill them," Isen said, indignant.
I ignored that. We all did.
We continued on, and again heard the sounds of the imps sealing us in behind.
Chapter 30
We crept along, lanterns held high in front of us and behind. The wind howled from somewhere far ahead, yet all we felt was a breeze. There was something wrong about the situation, like an itch I just couldn't scratch. I had never seen a wind trap before, nor even heard of one at that time of my life. And as far as magic went, Aeromancy was as alien to me as Empamancy, though I had seen the things a Sourcerer could do with nothing but thin air. I just couldn't understand how the wind could be so loud and yet we barely felt it.
The others were scared, of the noise and of the oppressive darkness that seemed to close in around the lanterns unnaturally. I suppose I couldn't blame them, the howling had me on edge. Isen fished our third lantern out of the bag and lit it before anyone could stop him. Hardt hissed at his brother, but Isen backed away, clutching at the lantern as though the light were the only thing keeping him alive. He really was a coward.
"We don't have any more fuel." Hardt's voice came out as a harsh whisper. It's an oddity, but people tend to lower their voices in the dark. A natural instinct to be as discreet as possible, maybe.
"Then we should get out of here quickly." There was real panic in Isen's voice. It can happen to people who live too long in fear. Their mind loses the ability to reason. Isen was acting out of irrationality and terror. Part of me wanted to knock him senseless and leave him there in the dark. I think the only thing that stopped me from telling Yorin to do just that was that I knew Hardt would never leave his brother.
Tamura stopped and cocked his head to the side, holding up his own lantern.
"Do you see something?" I asked, pushing past Isen and letting the older brother deal with the younger.
Tamura cocked an eyebrow at me. "The walls have eyes," he said.
Yorin let out a grunt. "He's not wrong."
That was when I realised he meant it literally. With lantern light spilling out around us, I could see dozens of crude faces carved into the walls. Each was different, but the same, and each had piercing eyes staring straight ahead.
"Balls of a crag cat," Isen cursed and drew in a ragged breath.
I stepped close to one of the walls and inspected the faces watching us. Whatever had carved them had no real artistic skill and the faces were misshapen and ugly. But the eyes... The eyes were piercing, watchful. I would be lying if I said I wasn't unnerved by it all. They were bloody creepy.
We continued down the corridor. It was hard to ignore the faces carved into the walls once I knew they were there. Every step we took revealed more and more of them watching us. They weren't part of the architecture. It was obvious something, or someone, had added them long after the city had fallen. Back then, I wondered at what might have carved them and whether they marred every wall in every corridor. These days I wonder more at their significance. Why so many faces and why such a focus on the eyes?
We followed the breeze, ignoring the doorways and stairwells to either side, eager to escape. It felt as though we were close to an exit. I could feel it in every part of me. Freedom was calling to me. The sky was calling to me, and I was so close I could taste it on the wind. Perhaps we should have checked some of the rooms. Perhaps if we had, we might have had a better idea of what was coming for us.
It seemed to take forever creeping through the gloom until the corridor ended. The wind was stronger there, louder. We could feel it gusting through the open doorway in front of us. I was the first to step through and found another great hall on the other side of that doorway. Unlike the last hall this one had steps leading both up and down, with doorways above and below us. Eleven great pillars, each with the glowing blue mineral snaking through it, stretched all the way from the floor to the ceiling. The twelfth pillar had collapsed and the rubble of it littered the ground. Strangely, the blue mineral seemed to have stopped glowing in that pillar. Wind whipped and howled around the hall like a wild animal snarling at everything. I could feel the bite of it on my skin.
"The wind must be coming from somewhere." I had to raise my voice, almost shout to be heard over the noise. Tamura was next through, standing
behind me, and he nodded, pointing upwards.
"It's about time we started going up." Yorin was already starting up the steps to our left. He stopped and shrugged. "Steps just end on this side. Nothing but rubble a couple of flights up." He trudged back down towards us. "I hate this place." I didn't hear hate in his voice though. He said it as a fact and nothing more.
We started down, Yorin in the lead with a lantern. I followed close behind. I could just about make out the staircase leading upwards on the other side of the hall, but even with my vision, I couldn't see if it was intact or not.
Yorin paused at the bottom of the steps, a knife in his hand and the lantern held out in front of him. I froze when I saw it too. I think we all did. All except Tamura, maybe, but then he has never been good at staying still. The great hall was strewn with rubble, some from the collapsed pillar, some from elsewhere. Only it wasn't all rubble. There were bodies. Dozens of bodies with skin the same dark grey as the rock around us. Each one was huddled into a small ball and lying alone on the ground.
"Well, now we know why those little monsters didn't want us coming this way," Isen said. "It's a fucking burial chamber."
I ground my teeth at Isen's stupidity. He really was an idiot. I don't know how I hadn't seen it earlier. Well, that's not strictly true. I know exactly how. Lust made me blind, made me stupid. But like any emotion so intense it couldn't last, it had burned itself out and faded away to leave a cold clarity in its place. Now I saw Isen for exactly what he was; a coward and a fool. And a Terrelan. There are three classes of Other World inhabitant. Imps are classed as creatures, mostly harmless and suited to labour and little else. Monsters would truly scare him. I wondered what he would do if he ever encountered a hellion or a khark hound, let alone a yurthammer. Yurthammers are on the banned list of summons for a good reason. I eventually used them to great effect in my crusade against the Terrelan Empire. Isen claimed that anything he didn't understand was a monster. It was that fucking ignorance that lay at the very heart of Terrelan xenophobia.
