by Jon Bender
“I heard something ahead.”
“How far?” he asked, straining to hear what she had.
“I don’t know, not far though. I think we should move with more caution,” she said, her eyes never leaving the narrow passage.
He nodded and waved his hand forward indicating she should lead the way. Even at a cautious and more deliberate pace, she still moved faster than a normal person would have with light to guide them. But even her new abilities could not hide the way she held herself, the slight hunch of her shoulder and the shorter gait of her steps. She must be feeling the toll of the night as he was. Taking several more turns and continuing to climb again, it wasn’t long before he could detect a subtle smell in the stale air – smoke and burning pitch. He couldn’t suppress the sense of urgency building, a feeling amplified over the bond as Hailey added her own anticipation and reflected it back to him. When they came to a more recently carved staircase, he knew they had come to wherever the rebels were heading.
Taking the lead, it exited behind stacks of crates in a neglected storage room, but the crates and old furniture forgotten here were far newer than they had seen so far. Finding more stairs leading up, they came to a heavy wood door left partially open. From the rust on the hinges, he could see that it had not been used in many years.
Not wanting to risk the sound of squealing metal, he slipped through the gap with Hailey right behind. The hallway was not well lit, but hanging from the walls every twenty feet, a small oil lamp burned providing light. Releasing the magic that had allowed him to see in the perfect darkness of the undercity, the change was jarring and took a minute to adjust to. When his vision had returned to normal, he found several torches lying on the ground near the door. Touching one, he found it still warm.
Feeling drained from spending a night casting and then trekking through the undercity, he leaned against the wall to rest for a moment. “I wish I knew where we are, and what they are doing here.”
“I know where. This is one of the lowest levels of the Northern Temple,” Hailey said, looking up the hall.
Keller looked closer at their surroundings without recognizing anything, but did not doubt her. There was only once reason the rebels would come here. “I wouldn’t have thought them foolish enough to try and rescue their people. But if I was the one attempting it, now would be the perfect time. Most of the priests are out scouring the city, and no one is expecting an attack in the northern city now.”
“I can take us to the conversion chambers from here,” Hailey said, moving away from the door.
Following, he felt no real desire to go back to those rooms and even considered letting the rebels escape. He knew that was a foolish notion even as it came to him. These people had openly revolted against Or’Keer. They had killed his servants wantonly and weakened the city against the coming attack. He put aside his doubts as he jogged after her, trying to forget how tired he felt, the exhaustion perhaps affecting his judgment. There was just one more fight ahead, and then he could be done. After all those responsible had been caught, he could begin planning to fix the damage and preparing for the alliance.
Running through the halls, he still didn’t know where he was until they reached the top of a flight of stairs. They had come out in the middle of the conversion chamber level. Right away he knew they were in the right place, as was evident by the pair of dead guards he saw at the center of a cross hall to the right. Whoever these traitors were, they were skilled in stealth and fighting, evidence shown in the still-sheathed swords at the soldiers’ waists. The direction the dead men laid led to the cells where prisoners were held when not being questioned. The other way led directly to the conversion chambers themselves and eventually up to the temple proper. He had no way to know if the priests responsible for the questioning had returned their guests to the cells in light of what was happening, or if they had dutifully continued their work.
“You head to the cells and search for them there. I will go to the chambers in case they went that way,” he said.
He couldn’t be sure, but thought she was frowning behind the shadow mask. Perhaps it was just the bond relaying uncertainty mixed with concern that made him think that she was. “I don’t think we should split up. Neither of us is at our full strength, and we might not be able to handle them alone,” she said.
It was surprising to hear her admit that she was feeling the effects of the night as he was. The bond had not informed him of that. Thinking more deeply, he realized that he had not been aware of any of her physical feelings. Perhaps only emotions could be communicated over their connection.
“I know, but we can’t risk going one way and have them coming back the other. They have no way to know we are following and giving us the advantage of surprise. If you find them, stay hidden and come get me.”
“And what if you find them?” she asked.
“I will wait as long as I can for you.” He knew that he would not be able to move as fast as she could, and trying to find her would likely lead to the rebels making good on their escape.
Hailey nodded, but he could see in her eyes and by the way she shifted her weight that she still did not like the idea. Eventually, the mood coming across the bond seemed to lighten. “Life was so much simpler when I was just stealing.”
Keller smiled, the expression feeling odd after spending so much time dealing with one serious situation after another. “Life in servitude to Or’Keer is not easy. We all do what we must to ensure that we follow his path.”
He had thought to further alleviate the tension, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead, she stood straighter and became very still as she met his eyes firmly. An air of calm washed over her. “I owe you, and it is only you I serve,” she said.
The corner of his eye twitched at hearing the blatant blasphemy. If Benkt had been with them, the priest would have killed her on the spot. As it was, Keller’s own hand had moved slightly forward of its own volition to strike her down. “Your allegiance lies only…”
Before he could finish the sentence, she turned and started off at a sprint down the hall. When she strode through a darkened section, her form seemed to dissolve into the shadows and she was gone.
His hands balled up in fists, wanting to unleash his frustration and call her back to be punished. But what would he do? He knew right away that he could not cause her pain, and knowing that made him angrier. His inability to act again brought up questions of his service to Or’Keer. Why did she bring out this side of him? And why could he do nothing about it? There was no time to stand there pondering the answers. Time was quickly being spent and he had to find the traitors. Failing to do so would be as much a transgression against the Dark God as his doubts. Heading towards the conversion chambers, he tried to push the thoughts away and concentrate on what he had to do, but still they persisted.
Coming to the corner of a passage lined with the chambers, he slowed and peeked around into the dimly lit space. Peering down its length, he saw four dead guards lying on the floor near the center of the hall. Two of their swords were missing as well. This time it looked like one had managed to react before being killed. Only a faithful would have been able to get so close undetected. His stomach felt like he had swallowed a rock at the thought.
Already a full company of soldiers had turned against their god. One of the faithful betraying him was not a great stretch of the imagination on a night like this. It had happened in the past, and Hailey’s displays of defiance were proof that they still held onto themselves. In that moment, he considered going back to get her. He was tired and did not know if he would survive the encounter in his current state. He pulled on the shadows around him to fill his core with their power and, in doing so, was reminded of his duty to the god who had saved him and granted him such strength. He had already failed him by not bringing Hailey to task and would not compound it by letting the traitors escape.
Taking in a slow breath, he stepped out into the hall and began moving sl
owly forward. No sounds came to him as he strained for any indication of which room they were in. Coming to the first door, it had been flung open to reveal an empty space. Nearing the dead guards, he was forced to step into the pools of blood surrounding them. His boots did not stick in the dark fluid, telling him that they had been killed recently without enough time for it to thicken. Many of the doors were open, and he checked each before moving on. One contained the body of a dead priest, crumpled without any sign that he had put up a struggle. Keller ground his teeth. It must be one of the faithful working with them.
He was nearing the next room where he had left Seldon when he heard people whispering. He knew he had finally caught up to them and paused just on the other side. He hoped that Hailey could sense the anxiety he felt and was sprinting to get to him. Wanting to give her as much time as he could, he pressed close to the wall and listened.
“We have to leave her. She doesn’t even know who we are anymore,” a deep and low voice said. “Bringing her will only put us all at risk.”
“Risk?” another male voice asked. Even with his voice low, Keller could hear the anger in it. “We have risked everything for you, and look what it got her. Look at what it got all of us. All the while you were safe.”
“We all had to play our part to stop Or’Keer. You have trusted me this long, don’t stop now. There is still much work to be done, and I will need your help,” the first man said.
The second speaker grunted a humorless laugh. “How can I trust a man who knew everything about me, but hid his own identity so that he would be protected?”
“Whatever we do, let’s do it now. The longer we stay here, the more likely we are going to be caught. I have no desire to be tied back down to that table,” a third speaker said louder and clearer than the others, his voice filled with fear. Keller recognized it as belonging to Marish, the merchant he had caught at the guild house.
So far Keller knew that there were at least three men in the room, and he thought them to be talking about Fulvia who must be with them as well. If that was all there was, he felt confident he could rush in and take them all before they could react. Still, he would have a better chance once Hailey arrived. There was also the chance he could learn more about their organization which would make it easier to track down others.
“Listen to reason,” the first speaker pleaded. “She is gone. What sense does it make for all of us to be captured with her? We should end her pain here.”
“If you come near her… I will kill you,” the second man said. Keller knew by the tone of his voice that it wasn’t an idle threat.
There was a long pause before the first man finally spoke again. “Fine, bring her. But when the time comes, I will not hesitate to leave you both. What we are doing is far more important than any one person.”
“I would expect nothing less of you,” the second man said, his voice colder than a winter in Etera’a.
“Great, let’s get out of here and back to the undercity. If what you told me is right about our people fleeing the city, it won’t be long before that damn shadow mage and his damn lackey priest return here,” Marish said with relief.
Time was up and he had to make a decision. Hailey hadn’t arrived yet, but the bond let him know that she was getting closer now. She must have found the cells empty and was returning to him. He wanted to wait for her, still apprehensive of facing the men and a faithful alone, but it was not an option now. When they exited the room, they would be prepared for trouble and would find him. At the moment, he still had the advantage and had to seize it. Pulling as much power into his tired body as he could, Keller began casting the void into his hands to take them down quickly. He forced his breathing to slow, and leapt around the corner into the room with both arms raised.
He was prepared to destroy the entire room with beams of absolute darkness, but instead of just three men there were five. The first face he saw caused him to hesitate and hold back his magic in confusion.
Lord Prasil stared at him in shock on the left, his sword brought up before him in a reflexive move. He had shed his armor for dark clothing and a black cape with the hood down. Near the table, he saw a man he did not recognize in commoners’ clothing supporting Fulvia with one arm and a sword in his free hand. Next to him was Marish. The merchant’s once fine clothing now tattered and torn, his own blade held up before him both hands. To the right was Seldon, half-dressed and carrying a bloodied sword, his chest bare and showing dozens of white scars from the priest’s healing, the man responsible for his interrogation dead at his feet. Seldon was the only one not in shock at Keller’s appearance, instead giving a grim smile of satisfaction. Besides Prasil, the figure that most gave Keller pause was standing in the shadows, his face covered in a black mask.
All present seemed to be frozen in that moment, until Prasil put on a look of concern and took a half step forward. “Chosen One, I’m so glad you made it. I followed these rebels into the undercity after my men were attacked,” he said, taking another step forward and half turning to face the others in the room. His movements were made to look like he was turning his back to Keller to face the real threat. He could not know that Keller had been outside listening to them argue over saving the woman.
As everything he knew about the lord of Kardin slid into place with seeing him here, he saw how the man had been working against Or’Keer and Keller the whole time. Feeding the rebels information on where to attack and who. Helping them hide from the temple. Likely the one to recruit a whole company of once loyal soldiers to their cause. Even arranging for the passes that had allowed the drivers to move their people around the city unhindered. Prasil looked from his fellow traitors to Keller’s eyes and must have seen something there. A glint of understanding, a look of betrayal, or perhaps how foolish Keller felt for being so easily deceived. Whatever it was, Prasil knew his bluff to get closer and kill Keller before he could react was over.
“Run!” Prasil shouted, and dove into a roll toward Keller and further to the right.
Everyone in the room burst into motion at the same time. Prasil’s move had the effect of drawing Keller’s attention away from the others to deal with the threat, a plan that partially worked. Even as he turned, Keller unleashed the void from his right hand at a charging Seldon, the magic hitting the man in the center of his chest. He did not fly back as a fire or storm mage’s cast would have caused but, instead, came to a stop to stare down at the fist-sized hole in his chest before collapsing.
Keller had already completed his turn knowing that he was exposing his back to the others, but having no other choice with Prasil coming out of his roll. Keller unleashed the void again from his left hand. The effort of doing so caused his knees to buckle and threw off his aim. The lord of Kardin did not waste the opportunity, throwing himself against the wall to narrowly miss being hit. Shoving off hard from the wall, he held his sword out to skewer Keller. There was no time to cast the void again. Even if he hit the man, there was no guarantee it would stop the sword’s tip from gutting him. He changed the flow of magic to create the clawed gauntlet even as the strength in his legs returned. The hardened shadows protected his hand as he gripped the blade and turned it to the side. Prasil was not deterred and lashed out with a fist that connected with Keller’s jaw knocking him back. The blow was staggering, but Keller maintained his concentration and held onto the sword. Letting go would mean certain death.
Knowing that the others would be moving to escape or even attack him from behind, he had to kill or incapacitate Prasil quickly. Using the force of the punch, Keller fell backward dragging the sword with him. Prasil, refusing to release his grip, had no choice but to follow him down. Keller was prepared for that. He drew in more of the shadows surrounding him intent on releasing the void once more, but it would not form in his hand. He could not summon enough power to send out the deadly cast, and his head spun with the effort. Just before they hit the ground, he formed another gauntlet on his other hand instead, the sharpened claws
digging into Prasil’s chest as he yelled in pain. His life was saved only because Keller’s hand was in an awkward position, and Prasil’s ribs prevented the claws from going deeper. Nevertheless, the lord of Karadin was able to drag his blade across Keller’s ribs, the pain causing Keller’s head to swoon further.
Prasil rolled away, leaving Keller still gripping his sword firmly, but in great pain from the wound he had suffered in the struggle. Looking up, he saw as Marish followed the man carrying Fulvia out of the door. The merchant looked down at Keller with murder in his eyes, and then continued out into the hall. Keller was relieved that for whatever reason, perhaps fear, that Marish had decided not to attack in his moment of weakness, but there was still one other person in the room with him. The slight figure whose face he could not see had drawn his own sword revealing it to be a straight common blade, and not the black curving edge of the faithful. As he approached in a slight crouch, Keller could see that the mask was made of simple black cloth and not swirling shadows. Still the man was an obvious threat, especially since Keller could not fight back with his blood flowing freely from the wound, taking what little strength he had with it. There was still some distance between the two of them, allowing Keller to regain his feet, the pain in his side flaring with the effort. Both of his hands where still encased in the gauntlets, but even the minor cast was becoming more difficult to maintain by the second. With his strength now quickly draining, he may only have one chance to kill the man before his magic deserted him completely. He needed to wait for the right moment.
The masked man paused and shifted his eyes to the door and back quickly. Keller was for once thankful for the fear the chosen inspired, it had likely just saved his life. He could almost see the thoughts running through the eyes of the man; see the hesitation of his movements. Could he make it out of the room and get away? Could he get close enough to make a killing blow? Why had Keller not yet struck him dead? In the end, the rebel rushed forward and Keller thrust out his hand throwing the gauntlet forward. His aim was true even though his vision wavered slightly. His cast flew low for the man’s stomach, forcing him to bring the sword low to block it. This left his upper body open to the second gauntlet Keller had thrown just after. The shadow made claws gripped firmly around the man’s neck. With a thought, Keller plunged them deeply to tear through muscle, tendon, and finally piercing between the small bones of the spine. The rebel collapsed to the ground, and Keller followed him down as his legs gave out completely.
