Emergent, Book One : Isobel

by Virginia Nikolaou

  Isobel didn't remember falling, but she'd never forget hitting bottom. The jagged, gaping hole loomed over her like an immense raven yawn, spitting chunks of rock and plaster after her. She moved her head to avoid the rubble and something wet slid into her ear, hot breath mixed with dust invading her air space. She cringed, pulling away, and the pain turned excruciating.

  "BooBear, get away from her. She's still alive," she heard someone say.

  Isobel turned her eyes in the direction of the voice, but her sight was blurry. Clenching her hands, she tried to inhale, and her chest burned with the effort.

 

  "And now the Rat Queen's gonna be mad. Oh boy, BooBear, this isn't good," the soft frightened voice said.

 

  Isobel blinked a few times, and squinted at the voice, seeing a young boy standing against the far wall of the chamber. An enormous black dog stood over her, panting. It cocked its head, grunted, and unfurled a slobbery wet tongue, licking her mouth.

 

  She flipped onto her stomach to get away, eyes shut tight against the pain, and when she opened them again, Isobel was surprised to find a tunnel rat staring back from under her.

  Gasping, she stumbled to her feet, hands up protectively, prepared for the tunnel rat to follow.

  It didn't.

 

  She looked from the boy to the tunnel rat, hyperventilating with shock and pain. "Where am I? Where's Ash? Where's Beatrice?" she asked between labored breaths, stepping further away from the tunnel rat.

 

  The boy was bone thin with a mass of curly black hair framing a pale, impish face. His large eyes were dark and hollowed, seemingly older than his tender years. He held onto the dog's silver collar, pulling him close as if his very existence depended on it. The dog was his height and just as wide, with a square head that might have appeared fierce on any other dog.

  "What happened?" she asked, pointing at the tunnel rat.

  "You fell on the Rat King. His neck went crack and now he's dead," the boy whispered.

  Isobel looked down at the tunnel rat. "What do you mean? What the hell is a rat king?" she asked hoarsely.

  The boy stepped back with the dog, his black eyes round in fear. "You must be from above. From way above. From Landgraevan," he said.

  The dust had settled and the small chamber slowly revealed itself. The walls were lined with wooden cubbies, and bundles of wiggling, gurgling blankets occupied each one.

  "What is a rat king?" she asked again, looking at the squirming cubby bundles.

  "Tunnel rats. This is their King. He almost ate us," the boy said, touching a deep cut on his face.

 

  The King's mangled body lie partly covered under slabs of debris, neck bent at an odd angle, his large ruby eyes fixed on vacant space. His silvery white braids, woven with gold and ivory beads, had twisted together and were coiled around him. A dagger lay in the upturned palm of his severed hand, his long black nails dripping blood onto the floor like overflowing quills.

  The force of her fall had cause the wood floor under the King to cave in and the blood pooling around him steadily dripped into the empty space beneath, the sound clearly audible in the small quiet chamber.

 

  Isobel drew closer to examine the creature, and just as she bent over him to view the other side of his face, he coughed, spraying her with foamy pink spittle. She recoiled as the Rat King struggle to breathe, his terrified, quivering eyes holding her captive.

  "He's not dead. He's paralyzed," she gasped, retreating. The boy hid behind her, BooBear next to him, and they stared on in horror as the Rat King warbled, pink liquid sliding down his cheek into his fine silver fur.

 

  "You have to kill him," the boy said.

 

  "I can't! I've never killed anything!" she exclaimed.

 

  The Rat King gurgled again, desperately trying to speak, unable to move, but the foam wasn't pink anymore. It was red.

  Isobel cautiously approached him, and crouching by his side, took the bloody dagger from his hand, drawing in close to make out his wheezing words.

  "Kill me or she will eat me alive," he implored, his eyes wide with fear.

  "Who will?" she asked.

  The King trembled spasmodically. "The Queen," he rasped.

 

  "The Queen is almost here," the boy said, the sound of wailing suddenly sounding throughout the passageways, getting closer.

 

  Isobel frantically contemplated killing the King. The dagger in her hand radiated and the large crystal protruding at the pommel glowed as the Rat King wheezed, the sound of the approaching Queen forcing her hand.

  There was only one choice.

  She positioned the blade just under the King's jaw, flush against his throat, and the crystal burned brighter, radiating now down the length of the dagger. Hesitating briefly, Isobel grabbed hold of the King's hair at the crown and, tilting his head back, drew the blade across his throat.

  Blood flooded the wound, overflowing onto the King's chest, coating his silver fur red, and his eyes swelled like a rush of crimson tide before settling into vacant death, a grim smile set on his lips.

 

  Isobel stared at the King, the blood on her hands thick and hot, and she watched him quiver slightly, the last vestiges of life shed. She tucked the dagger into her belt, turning to the boy. "Come. We need to hide our smell. You too, BooBear," she said.

  Scooping handfuls of blood directly from the King's throat, Isobel slathered it on the three of them. Then, dropping to her knees, she removed some of the larger debris from his body and, with all her strength, pushed him away from the hole in the floorboard, the boy helping.

 

  The crawlspace was dark and small but there wasn't anywhere else to hide. The pack of tunnel rats and their Queen were rapidly approaching. She shimmied through the small hole and, with relief, found that the space was larger than she'd thought, offering ample room to stand.

 

  "Hop in, both of you. The rats are coming," Isobel urged.

  The boy slipped into the hole, followed by BooBear, and the crawlspace floor creaked under the weight of them. Isobel tugged the Rat King's body back over the opening and crawled off to the side, drawing the boy and the dog close, where they huddled in the absolute dark together, waiting, the steady splat of the King's blood on the floorboard the only sound cutting the dusty quiet.

 

  The Rat Queen entered the room in a flurry of high pitched wails and eerie chanting. A sorrowful weeping followed, mourning rats shuffling close behind her, lamenting and bemoaning in tandem with the Queen. Isobel had never before heard a sound as chilling as the peculiar cadence of the Queen's sorrow, but the absolute silence which followed was even more so terrifying.

  When the Queen spoke, it was in a soft lilting voice, the lyrical sound cutting through the wailing. "Urien was right. They are here. I can smell the mystic stench, this one a girl. I want her alive! Release my demons! They will find her! And prepare for war. We are being attacked!" the Rat Queen said.

  Her guards scurried about, hissing and wheezing at each other as they searched the small room, the bundles in the cubbies gurgling, apparently not disturbed by the ruckus.

  The boy was gathered tight in the crook of Isobel's arm, huddled against her shoulder, while BooBear trembled beside them. She placed her other arm around the large dog, drawing him close, and they sat, quietly listening to the blood drip, barely daring to breathe as the rats walked around overhead.

  "Fools! She is not here! She's taken the King's dagger and fled through the tunnels. Find her! The rest of you, bring the King's corpse to the burial chamber," the Queen lamented, and in another flurry of eerie chants, she left, the mourners following her out.

 

  The rats lifted the King's body and the chamber light filtered through the hole. Isobel saw three rats carrying the body away, and that anot
her followed a short distance behind. The others marched out of the room, but the last one stopped suddenly, sniffed, black tongue probing the air, and stared straight at her through the hole in the floor. He grinned and, checking to see that the other rats had left, approached the hole.

 

  Isobel pulled the boy and BooBear closer as the rat knelt at the edge.

  He stuck his head into the crawlspace, long braids like rope hanging about his shoulders, glinting with silver beads. "Too bad the Queen wants you alive," he said, and reached into the crawlspace, stretching his black clawed fingers out to grab her. Unable to touch her, he jumped in through the hole, the weight of his stout body causing the floor under him to crack.

 

  Isobel clenched the dagger, rising to her haunches, and pushed the boy behind her. "Stand back," she warned.

  "Get away from us!" the boy added bravely, coming out from behind Isobel as BooBear whimpered and growled in turn.

  The tunnel rat pulled back in mock fright, then lurched forward and hissed, "I'm not interested in you, boy. It is the mystic's heart my queen covets."

  Taking a step forward, the rat grabbed Isobel, and the boy jumped onto him, punching and biting, the added weight causing the floor to crack loudly, giving way. The rat fell through and managed to secure his hold on the floorboard, his sharp black claws digging into the thin wood, bracing himself with his elbows. He looked up at Isobel, a wide grin playing at his mouth, and shook his head as if about to admonish a child, slowly lifting himself out of the hole.

  The boy scampered back into the crawlspace, standing to the side of Isobel, and before the tunnel rat could lift himself out, she stepped forward. Raising the dagger above her head, she thrust it downwards, burying the blade to the hilt into the tunnel rat's exposed neck. She pulled the dagger out and the rat fell to the lower floor, desperately trying to ebb the flow of blood streaming from his severed jugular. He watched the crimson pool grow around him, and with one last quizzical glance at Isobel, hand to his gushing neck, he convulsed before dying.

 

  "Follow me," she said, jumping through the same hole. She landed lightly next to the dead rat, sidestepping the growing pool of blood, and helped the boy jump down, followed by BooBear last.

 

  The walls of the room were covered with small, ornately faced mailboxes, one positioned next to the other. Tall wood tables laden with parcels wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with twine occupied another section of the room. At the far end, past the darkest recess, stood a small window with bars, a sign which read 'Teller' positioned over it. The room smelled like ink and dust.

  "I know a way out of here," the boy said.

 

  "Great! But what do I call you?" she asked as they ran for the large double doors at the end of the room.

  The boy glanced at her, his black eyes shining. "Jojo," he said.

  "Jojo, I'm Isobel," she replied breathlessly, following him into a wide wood paneled hall.

 

  "Hi," Jojo said over his shoulder. "Hurry. It's the only way out of here."

 

  "Out of where? Landgraevan station?" Isobel asked.

 

  "Yes, but that's way up. This is way down."

  "Way down where?" she asked, but upon viewing the room they'd entered, she knew.

  The sprawling complex was crowded with dusty small wall cubbies, canvas bags, and bins filled with envelopes and packages. It was part of the old Central Post Station of Landgraevan railway terminal, abandoned, like everything else, after the storms.

  Isobel had read everything she could find on the underground facility, fascinated by the labyrinth of halls and rooms. She recalled that another level or two below would be the Mail Rails leading to the territories surrounding the Pythean range.

  "The old post office," Jojo said, then turned to her, finger to his lips. "Shhhh. They're close. Let's go this way," he said, and took off running down a narrow side passage. "I know where there's a suckychute close by," he said, pointing to a dark hallway.

  Isobel nodded, even though she didn't know what a suckychute was, and followed him to the end of the hall where a carved wood sign over a large hole in the wall read, Chute 3, Eastbound Mail.

  "You first," Jojo offered.

  Isobel stepped back, not sure she'd heard right. "You want me to go into that sucking thing?"

  Jojo looked at her oddly. "That's why they call them suckychutes, silly. You go first. BooBear second. And I'll follow," he replied excitedly, waiting.

  Isobel stood at the suckychute threshold, looking in.

  JoJo stared at her imploringly. "It's the only way out of here, and the longer you think about it, the closer the rats get," he said, just as a pack of rats stopped at the end of the hall.

 

  Isobel looked from Jojo to the rats who were now sniffing the air, their black tongues probing. One cocked his head, staring straight at them, and with a collective grunt, the rats charged.

  With a promise from Jojo that he'd follow, she jumped into the chute, feet first, and fell for a seeming painful eternity, to the lower postal station. She flew out of the chute, head first into a large canvas bin filled with parcels and envelopes, having no recollection of when or how she'd shifted around. She managed to stand, and was contemplating how to jump out of the bin when BooBear came flying through, knocking her down again. As promised, Jojo followed last, landing lightly on his feet, obviously an expert suckychuter.

 

  "Whoa! That one was way better than I remembered," Jojo laughed, jumping out of the letter bin.

  Isobel quickly followed, a nervous eye on the chute. "Won't the rats just follow?"

  "They won't go down the suckychute. It messes them up. Does something to their qualibrium. But it's the fastest way to get away from their nesty place," he offered.

 

  "You mean equilibrium. Their sense of balance," Isobel corrected.

 

  "Something like that. Makes their eyes pop, and their brains turn to mush, coming out of their ears," he said, staring off with the gory details.

 

  The room they'd fallen into was a sorting chamber, with numerous chutes and bins along one wall, postage scales on sturdy wooden counters along another, some still piled with half wrapped packages. Large canvas bags filled to the brim with letters lay about the room, stacked against walls. Most of the bags had toppled over, spilling their brightly stamped contents only to dusty wood floor.

 

  "Suckychutes are everywhere down here. But you have to know where to find them. I know of them all," Jojo said with obvious pride.

  Isobel looked at him sadly. There was something dismal about needing to know how to run for one's life and being proud of it. "When did you have time to figure all this stuff out?" she asked.

 

  Jojo shrugged. "I don't know."

  "How old are you, anyway?"

  He shrugged again. "I don't know. The same as BooBear, I guess."

 

  BooBear didn't seem older than ten, Isobel deduced, his muzzle a bit gray at the sides.

  "Where are you from?" she asked, though somehow she knew the answer. Jojo seemed every bit a homeless urchin as any she'd seen wandering the streets of Landgraevan.

  "These tunnels are my home."

  She accepted his answer. After all, the tunnels had been her playground when she was his age. "I used to play in the tunnels, too," she offered, and he smiled at her. His smile was dimpled, and the dimples deepened as he reached for her hand.

  "I know how to get to the terminal from here, and we can go anywhere from there," he said, pulling her along.

  She allowed him to lead her down one hallway, then another, a maze of twists and turns and chambers, all the while Jojo went on about the near death misses he'd had with the tunnel rats, entertaining her with mischievous stories and his impish little ways. He was a sprightly child, skipping over cracks whil
e gesturing excitedly as he told her his stories, an easy smile always present.

  Isobel stopped. "Can I catch my breath before we continue?" she asked, and smiled at him affectionately as he forced himself to stop.

  "The terminal isn't far from here. Just down that hallway," he said, pointing, when the sound of an approaching rat sounded from behind.

  Grabbing Isobel's hand, he pulled her into another room, closing the door behind them. "Shhh," he whispered, holding onto BooBear by his thick silver collar.

  They waited, barely daring to breath, and they could hear the hallway floor creak under the rat's weight.

  Isobel held the dagger tightly and waited. The door handle moved, the sound of turning metal on metal loud in the small dusty room. There was a pause before the door slowly opened, and as a shadow appeared on the floor, she pushed Jojo against the wall.

  The door opened wider and, dagger raised in her tight fist, she stepped forward, when a familiar voice spoke her name.

  "Lady Isobel, are you in here?" Admiral Vin's distinct voice asked. He stuck his head through the opening, and they stared at each other a moment before he entered the room.

  "Admiral Vin?" Isobel whispered.

  "Lady Isobel! We've been looking everywhere for you! I thought I saw you enter the room. You are safe and in one piece. There is a rat infestation down here. They're everywhere," he said, looking into the hallway before closing the door behind him.

  "Admiral Vin," Isobel repeated, confused. "How did you get here?"

  "I am to accompany you and Beatrice home. I have a carriage waiting at the terminal. Come. But be careful. I've left a trial of rats behind me, and they may not all be dead," he said, opening the door. Peering outside, he motioned for them to follow.

  They ran down one hall and into another, the floors strewn with the rats he'd killed. The short sword he held was covered in blood, as were his hands, and when he happened upon a moaning rat not completely dead, he'd correct it.

  Beatrice and Ash were waiting for them in the terminus, standing next to a black carriage which was harnessed to a pair of dappled gray horses. The gorgeous old carriage was set on two runners skinned in steel which, curving down at the rear, finished in two elegant upward loops at the front. Oil lamps positioned at the front and rear of the gleaming lacquered carriage glowed softly, the light radiating warmly through paper thin cream glass shades.

 

  Ash bounded in her direction and she dropped to her knees, grabbing the big dog in a tight hug. "Ash!" she cried and nearly fell over from his wiggling body. When Isobel glanced up again, Beatrice stood over her, an expression of obvious relief on her face.

  "I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you, Isobel," she said, and on another deep sigh, glanced at Jojo and BooBear inquisitively.

  "I wouldn't have made it without Jojo's help," Isobel said, and turned to him. "Jojo, you and BooBear should come with us to Moredea," she said.

  Jojo looked at her sadly. "These tunnels are where we live. I told you. I know every suckychute this side of Landgraevan. And anyway, she's coming back to get me. She said she was."

  "Who's coming to get you?" Isobel asked.

  Jojo answered in a soft little voice, "She is."

  Beatrice held Isobel gently by the arm. "Isobel, we have a long journey ahead. I'm afraid that we have to get going. The rats will be here soon."

 

  "Wait. When is she coming, Jojo?" Isobel asked, pulling away from Beatrice.

 

  Jojo swiped at his eyes with a dirty little fist. "I don't know."

 

  "If she doesn't return, if she doesn't come and get you, then come find me in Moredea. Promise me."

  Jojo nodded, and she hugged him fiercely before turning to BooBear. Taking his furry cheeks in both hands, she kissed him between the eyes.

  "You take care of Jojo, ok, BooBear? I'm counting on you," she said. BooBear whimpered, offering his paw as if in agreement. Isobel smiled at the big dog and hugged him again when Beatrice touched her shoulder.

  "Trouble may be headed our way, Isobel. We must leave."

  Isobel let go of BooBear's paw, and with one last glance at Jojo, she followed Beatrice to the carriage. Adjusting the dagger at her side, she sat down on the comfortable diamond tufted leather seat and, turning, caught sight of the little boy and his dog disappear through another door.

  Beatrice draped a blanket over Isobel's weary shoulders, and the young woman slumped with exhaustion, closing her eyes as Ash laid down at her feet.

 

  "All aboard," Admiral Vin called, taking up his position at the rear. With a slight flick of his wrist, the whip unfurled, snapping the air, and he called, "Yah! Yah!" The carriage lurched forward. The horses neighed, setting off down the rails at a steady trot, plumes of breath in the chill air leading the way.

 

  Chapter Ten