There was a long pause from the voice below.
We all looked at each other. Nicholae shrugged.
“What were your crimes?” the voice finally asked.
“What constitutes a fifteen-year sentence?” Erik whispered.
“How should I know?” Nicholae whispered back.
“Murder,” Erik said.
Another pause.
“No,” the voice answered. “If you were found guilty of murder, you’d be sentenced to be turned.”
“Turned?” I asked Nicholae, not thinking I’d spoken loud enough for the man in the hole to hear.
“Into Scorched Ones, lad,” the man said. “Lying to me will not get you entrance.”
“It’s not something we’d like to discuss publicly,” Cassandra said.
“Well, that’s the only forum you have.”
“We’ve been out here for nine years, four months, and thirteen days,” Erik said. “Please show us some compassion.”
“Excuse me for not being the trustin’ type. After all, we’re all criminals here. I’ve made my decision. You may not enter.”
“But—” Cassandra began.
“No buts.” The man cut her off. “You come down the ladder, we will kill you. Simple as that. Don’t test me.”
Cassandra glanced over at Nicholae before continuing. “What about our boys? If you will not take us, please take our boys. All we desire is their safety. My husband and I can fend for ourselves on the surface. What say you?”
I could hear discussion in the hole. The man leading the conversation was considering Cassandra’s proposal.
“The two boys may enter on a trial basis,” the man said sternly. “If they get out of line, they’ll find themselves back on the surface lickety-split. Understood?”
“Thank you,” Cassandra said. “We’re in your debt.”
“Thank you,” Erik repeated.
Nicholae clapped Erik on the shoulder. “Don’t go far. Oliver’s keeping the medallion.”
“Of course,” Erik said. “We’ll be around.”
Nicholae climbed into the hole first; I followed. The orbs that had gone before us returned to illuminate our descent.
“Is it just the two of you?” the man asked.
“Just us,” Nicholae answered.
I continually glanced down to make sure I didn’t step on one of Nicholae’s hands. The orbs shone a white light, but there was orange flickering light far below us.
Great, more fire.
The ladder stopped four feet from the floor. I dropped down behind Nicholae. We seemed to land at the end of a tunnel. The walls and ceiling were comprised of the same petrified clay as the ground, reinforced with metal beams at regular intervals.
A group of at least ten men greeted us with swords and spears. A few of them also held torches. All of them wore medallions around their necks, identical to the one Nicholae had stolen for me. Two men sheathed their swords and scampered up the ladder.
“Where are they going?” Nicholae asked after removing his gas mask.
I did the same and held it dangling by the straps at my side.
“What’re your names, lads?” asked the man with the familiar voice. He was large all around, solidly built. A shaggy salt-and-pepper beard fell down to his chest. The same color hair covered his ears like oily weeds. He had a double-edged sword pointed toward the ground.
“I’m Nicholae, and this is my younger brother, Oliver.” Nicholae offered a hand to shake, but the man declined.
“The name’s Magnus. Hand over your weapons. We keep strict order here. You may have them back when you leave.”
Nicholae removed the sword from off his shoulder. Again, I followed his lead. Magnus took our swords and handed them to one of his comrades. Nicholae slid the pistol from his holster, butt first, and offered it to Magnus.
“What would I want with that? I want your weapons, not your kiddie toys.” He and a majority of the men in his group laughed.
Nicholae slipped the pistol back into its home on the side of his hip. He joined in on the laughter like it was all a big joke, which caused the chorus of laughter to fall short.
“Where did those other two guys go?” Nicholae asked again.
“To secure the hatch,” Magnus said. “Make sure there’s no funny business goin’ on up there. Don’t worry; they won’t hurt your parents as long as they’re not provoked.”
“I’m not worried,” Nicholae said.
I worked hard to suppress a smirk.
“You two look harmless enough.” Magnus gestured for the others in the welcoming party to return down the tunnel. “So I guess you’re the unlucky one without a talisman. It’s tough up there without one. But you’ll be in good company. We’ve got people like you down here.”
“How long have you been down here?” Nicholae asked.
“Me? I’ve been here nearly fourteen years. The camp’s been here a long time longer than me.” Magnus sheathed his sword, which hung on his left hip. “Does your brother talk?”
“He does,” Nicholae said, answering for me.
“What are you in for?” I asked.
“Just a little public disagreement in front of the guardians.”
“That’s it? You got how many years?”
“Twenty,” Magnus said. “I’m nearly there. They’ve gotta keep the peace, you know.”
“The guardians?” Nicholae asked.
“What, do your parents lock you in the basement or something? It’s like you’re from another planet.”
“It feels like that sometimes,” Nicholae said.
Our shadows loomed over us, stretched on the curves of the walls. I looked at mine and thought of Nero—that he was still with me somehow. It also could have been TJ, still looking over me from some other undiscovered plane.
The hum of rushing water could be heard in the distance, growing louder as we continued down the tunnel. A few torches ahead of us dropped out of sight. That’s when I noticed the tunnel was coming to an end.
The air was misty as we exited the tunnel and descended a stone trail that spiraled down the side of a small waterfall. The area we entered was cavernous. Campfires speckled the ground a hundred feet below. The rock walls glistened with millions of tiny crystals, which made it look like we were standing under open sky in Doria with countless stars shining down on us—the closest any of these people would get to seeing stars in Purgatorie. The refugees here seemed to live in stone huts that looked like they were chiseled out of the cavern walls. From the base of the waterfall, the water stretched into a river that cut through the grotto, growing lazier the farther it flowed from the falls.
“This is it,” Magnus said. “Our little slice of heaven.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“Compared to the shit outside, just about anything else looks beautiful.” Magnus laughed. “Not that I have to tell you two.”
When we reached the ground floor, the other men in the party dispersed to visit friends or return to their huts. Magnus led us through a condensed living space, exchanging pleasantries with a few people on the way before reaching a vacant spot.
“How handy are you two?” he asked. “Can you build your own home or would you like me to do it for you?”
“We could use some help,” Nicholae said.
“I figured as much.” Magnus tapped the cave wall and rock from where he’d touched crumbled and fell like a tiny avalanche. As the pieces spilled onto the ground, they flowed a few feet from the wall and began assembling into a structure similar to all the other stone huts. Pebbles and stones climbed over each other to form the framework for the quaint home, leaving gaps for two small windows and a doorway. The smallest pebbles, nearly sand, combined to form a thin door that fit snuggly in the frame, with two larger stones positioning themselves as primitive doorknobs.
“This should do for you,” Magnus said, opening the door and stepping into the newly manifested building. “Similar accommodations to the others.�
��
Two mattresses lying on the floor—luckily not also made of stone—were positioned on opposite sides of the hut, each with a folded blanket.
“Feels like home,” Nicholae said.
I nodded in approval.
“I don’t suppose you can do the light trick your father did,” Magnus said.
A tiny white orb lifted from Nicholae’s open palm and floated up to eye level.
“Then light won’t be a problem.” Magnus reached for the orb, but it retracted just beyond the swipe of his hand.
“Now, the only formal rules we got is to get along and share what you make. If you can’t follow those simple rules, you’ll find yourselves back on the surface. Pretty simple. We don’t have much tolerance for troublemakers. But you two don’t strike me as the troublemaking types. Think you can handle it?”
“Like you said,” Nicholae said. “Pretty simple.”
“Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in or relax or whatever it is you feel like doing.” Magnus gave a limp wave and turned to leave.
“Thanks,” I said.
Nicholae closed the door once Magnus was gone. I tossed the blanket and gas mask on the floor and lay down on the bed.
“We’re in,” I said. “I like how they took our swords but left us with our guns.”
“They obviously have never seen guns before, and don’t think we can manifest our own weapons.” Nicholae shrugged. “Let them keep underestimating us. Now all we need is to find someone who likes to listen to himself talk.”
I looked at him blankly, not following.
“We can’t come out asking a bunch of questions. We look odd enough as it is. We need to find someone who will give us information without having to ask.” He paused, looking at me lying on the bed. “We’re not going to get anything staying in here.”
“I’m ready when you are,” I said, though I hoped he wasn’t actually ready yet.
To my dismay, I was following him out the door moments later. The sheltered community looked like a campground. Families sat outside their huts, eating and talking by fire pits. Kids ran and played by the river, shouting and laughing. It felt late, past sundown, which was merely an illusion from the glistening gems in the rock walls enveloping the cavern. The aroma of barbequing meat and sweet spices wafted through the camp.
Nicholae headed toward our closest neighbors, a middle-aged couple sitting around their fire.
“Hello,” he said straight away, catching the couple off guard.
“Hey there,” the man said. “First day in the underground?”
“It is,” Nicholae said. “Just getting acclimated. My name’s Nicholae and this is my little brother, Oliver.”
It felt weird hearing Nicholae call me his little brother. It sounded so much like Jeremy.
“The name’s Zeke and this is my wife, Molly,” the man said. He was unshaven, had dark shaggy hair, and a long crooked nose. “Pull up some chairs.”
Molly waved. Her smile wrinkled up her face like a pug. She had extra skin hanging from her chin, off the backs of her arms, and down around her ankles.
“Umm...we weren’t given any,” Nicholae said, sounding genuinely embarrassed. He didn’t sound like himself at all. I think his voice was half an octave higher when he spoke as well.
“Oh, my apologies, I thought—oh, never mind,” Zeke said. By the time he’d finished talking, two cloth chairs appeared beside where the couple sat. “They’re yours.”
“We have a son about your age,” Molly said to me. “What are you, sixteen or so? He’s around here somewhere. Probably catching frogs by the river—something you can’t find on the surface. It’s nice down here. It’s nice having others to share it with.”
“Yeah, it gets very lonely on the surface,” I said, thinking of our short time with Te.
“We were up there for one and a half years before finding this place. These are good people,” Zeke said.
“Good criminals,” Nicholae clarified, but smiled to soften the statement like it was just another joke.
“Nobody’s perfect,” Zeke said. “Either we can trust each other down here or fend for ourselves on the surface. This is a better deal if you ask me. I haven’t seen a single one of those monsters the entire time we’ve been down here. And look at me; I lost my talisman, too. Well...not lost. I’m sure you know how savage it can get up there.”
“I do,” Nicholae said, bringing a hand to his chest.
“What’s that on your hand?” Molly asked.
Nicholae looked down to see what she’d noticed, which could have only been his wolf-head tattoo.
“Very nice artwork,” Zeke said.
“It’s our family’s symbol,” Nicholae replied, and placed his hand back on the armrest of the chair.
“I seen one of those before,” said an older man shuffling toward us. He was north of sixty with thinning white hair pulled into a loose ponytail. What hair was left on the top of his head looked like the fraying fabric of an old shirt, loose threads with blotchy skin showing through.
“Excuse me?” Nicholae asked.
“Oh, this is Tovar,” Zeke said. “He lives just on the other side of our camp.”
“Up on the surface,” Tovar continued. “I seen a man a few years back, up on the surface, with a picture on his hand just like that one there.”
“Did you get his name?” Nicholae asked.
“Strange fellow. He did introduce himself. I was living on the surface at the time. All alone. He sat and talked with me awhile. Didn’t have a talisman. Didn’t care. It was like he was just passing through. I can’t remember his name though.”
“Kafka?”
“Yup, that sounds right. I knew it was a name I never heard before. I remember thinking when he shook my hand, I think that wolf might bite me. He was nice enough, but his eyes and just a feeling I got from him—not from anything he said, mind you—I got the feeling he was more dangerous than any of the monsters up there.”
“Did he say anything about where he was going or why he was there?” Nicholae asked.
“He said he was off to meet a friend,” Tovar said. “And then he walked right into one of the fires—just like the Scorched Ones—poof and he was gone. It was like he was one of them.”
“That’s quite a story,” I said.
“I tried followin’ him. He walked in like it was nuthin’ and when I tried to do the same, my skin began to blister before the fire even licked me. I couldn’t do it.” Tovar pulled up a sleeve and showed us his forearm, the skin twisted from burn scars. “I can heal a lot of stuff, but this—nope. Never went away.”
“He’s told it many times,” Zeke said. “But I didn’t pay much mind to the wolf drawing before. But seeing one with my own eyes…”
“I told you it was the truth,” Tovar said, recovering his scars.
“I never said it wasn’t, just that it’s a wild story, that’s all,” Zeke said to Tovar, then turned back to us. “So what’s the relation?”
“Crazy old uncle,” I said.
“Crazy’s right, but he didn’t seem too old,” Tovar said.
“You know kids,” Zeke said. “Anyone over twenty’s old to them.”
“Yeah,” Nicholae said. “I’m pushing that myself. Well, we should keep moving.”
“Going?” Zeke asked. “But you just got here.”
“I know; it’s just that we told Magnus we’d meet up with him. You understand, right?” Nicholae stood up.
“Take the chairs,” Molly said. “They’re yours.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Nicholae said, picking up his chair and urging me to do the same.
“Crazy ol’ uncle. Crazy.” The old man waved and then stroked his medallion.
We carried the new chairs into our hut, setting them next to the beds.
“Back to the surface?” I asked, grabbing my gas mask.
“Back to the surface,” Nicholae said, snatching his mask as well.
We marched back the way w
e came, up the winding trail beside the waterfall and through the long tunnel, until we reached the metal ladder. Nicholae had a handful of illuminating orbs out ahead of us, guiding us through the darkness. He manifested two more swords once we were alone in the tunnel and tossed me one.
“Hopefully, Erik and Cassandra didn’t wander off too far,” Nicholae said, pulling his body up the first few rungs of the ladder until his feet reached the bottom rung.
“Mom and Dad?” I asked sarcastically.
He didn’t even dignify my joke with a response.
I put on my gas mask before beginning the climb so when we broke into the sickly daylight, I was prepared for the noxious air. One of our rectangular gray buildings sat a few hundred yards away. No fires or wandering Scorched Ones stood between us and the building, so we began our trek.
Erik and Cassandra were both inside, basking in the cool, clean air. And so were the two men who had climbed up the ladder to secure the hatch, bound and gagged against one wall.
Nicholae lifted his mask and gave Erik an inquiring look.
“Insurance policy,” he said nonchalantly.
“Well, we’re back, so they’re not needed any longer,” Nicholae said.
“So you want me to kill them?”
Nicholae glanced over at me. “No, let them go. They’re no threat.”
Cassandra laughed. “That’s an understatement.” She manifested a dagger and cut the two men loose. She also manifested two gas masks. “To make your run home a little less unpleasant.”
The two men jumped up and timidly reached for the masks before bolting for a door that wasn’t there. Their gaze darted around franticly like their release had been a cruel trick.
A door appeared next to Nicholae and he held it open as the two men cautiously passed him to exit the building.
“So they can manifest stone buildings, but they can’t pass through walls?” I asked, removing my mask.
“Different realities, different perceptions, different skill sets,” Nicholae said.
“You must be back so soon because you found something,” Erik said. “Please tell me you found something.”
Nicholae retold Tovar’s story of Kafka and how he’d walked into the fire.
Archanum Manor Page 19
