by Jana LaPelle
“He’s strong you know…” Dagda’s deep voice declares softly from behind me.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” I ask quietly, as I watch the color fade from the horizon.
“Aye, lass. That it is.” Dagda is now right behind me, and his large warm hand lies gently on my shoulder. His touch is meant to be reassuring.
“You know what I can’t help but wonder while I’m standing here watching a tranquil sunset? What is Alaric seeing? What has he encountered? What is he having to endure right at this very moment? I know he’s strong Dagda. That’s not it. He grew up stronger than an average mortal, healing abilities at his disposal, but he’s never felt what it’s like to be mortal. Not like me. Morríganna has stripped him down by placing those stupid cuffs on him. I’m sure that she played some seriously demoralizing mind games with him while she flogged him senseless. He’s exhausted, and he’s hurting, and he’s mentally questioning everything right now while trapped in The Underworld. He’s wondering if he will be able to continue being my Guardian and the god that he has ascended to become. He’s wondering if he will ever be my equal again. You didn’t see him, Dagda. He looked haunted, and he’s not able to heal. He’s been taken to the one place in all the realms that will play on his worse fears. So, you tell me, Dagda, should I not be worried?”
“Lass, I didna say not to worry. I merely said that he is a strong lad. Have faith in that. Have faith that this is the path that you both must walk to prepare you for the future.”
I nod and look up at the larger than life god before I impart, “Morríganna never intended to remove the irons once they were placed, Dagda. So, it will be up to me to figure out how to remove them, well that’s according to my Mom’s memoirs. Her husband’s great aunt was a seer evidently, and she told my Mom that, and I quote, “I would have the means that will be needed to unlock the bindings of the gods. Bindings forged in angel fire. The key resides with her,” I have no idea as to her meaning, but one thing is sure, the binding of the gods is what Alaric has the misfortune to bear.”
“Ashlinn, Alaric will survive this. You both will. I have faith that all of you will come through this experience for the better. The Underworld and all that reside there should stay put.”
“I know you’re right, to think anything other than positive is counterintuitive. You’re right on another account as well, you know, about The Underworld and all that reside there, we need to place sentries at the sight of the rift. Can you see to that? You and Declan should work together to devise a rotation of guards to see to it that nothing from The Underworld spills into this realm. As the rift grows, we will need to add additional sentries until we can figure out how to close the rift.”
“We have already thought of that. Don’t worry Ashlinn, we will see to it. You just focus on getting our boy back.” Dagda looks tired, and I can relate. He hasn’t forgiven himself for not going with us that night.
For a moment we stand quietly together and listen to the frogs and the cicada’s serenade. Night has arrived. The stars are out in full force, and the light spilling from the library lights the terrace around us. Jasmine steps outside to gain our attention, I can tell that she is still angry with me when she addresses us both, her head held high. Her eyes are averted from my own, “Things are winding down in here. Lexie’s ready to speak to you Dagda.” She turns with that and walks back into the library.
“Do you think she will ever forgive me?” I mumble under my breath, not really expecting an answer.
“Aye lass, but she’s hurting, and doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t choose her to go with you again. She has been with you through everything so far. From the beginning of your journey, the two of you have been thick as thieves. If it is any consolation, I think you chose well, The Underworld is no place for a water sprite.” Dagda ushers me inside and then imparts, “It’s no place for the likes of you lass, and I want for more than anything to go with ye to protect ye from the goings on in that dreadful realm. Alas, that can na be, but I will be here when you return with our boy.”
Chapter 5
(Alaric)
I feel as though I have been walking for hours on end and still it’s as if I have not made any progress. What the hell? I stop and look around, and it’s as if I have not taken a single step. In the distance behind me, I see a dust storm on the horizon, and it’s heading straight for me.
From my left, I hear a tiny, young voice say, “Over here! Come! Mister, over here, quickly! The nocturbeasts are coming.”
What the hell is a nocturbeast? Turning in the direction of the voice I see a young male peering out from behind an outcropping of rocks that I don’t recall seeing before. The boy’s face would look angelic if not for the tiny horns that are growing forward from either side of his head, his ears are long and pointed, and leathery wings peek up from behind him. I’ve never seen an imp before, and I ask the question aloud, “Are you an imp? And what is a nocturbeast?” By the gods I’m exhausted.
“Mister, there’s no time for questions. Come with me, the nocturbeast only come out to hunt.”
Looking around, I see that the dust storm is almost upon us and there appears to be some sort of winged creatures riding the storm, no that’s not right, it’s not so much of a storm as it is that the beasts are stirring up the dust in their wake. They look to be some sort of black griffin, which I certainly want no part of in my current state. Turning back, I see that the boy has disappeared behind the rocks. I quickly move to follow him and see that he is making his way into a hidden entrance in a rock wall. Why didn’t I see this rock outcropping before? He turns to see if I’m following him and motions for me to hurry up. The entrance is just large enough for me to squeeze through and I find myself in a downward sloping tunnel that grows larger as it descends. Turning back, I look through the opening to see that the winged creatures are passing overhead and have begun circling above in the darkening red sky. Their bird-like screeching carries to me on the wind. Not sure what to make of this turn of events, I turn back to the boy who is patiently waiting for me to follow him.
“Mister, what happened to your back? Did the slavers get ahold of you? You ain’t like most shades. Are you a freshie? Is that why you look so alive?” He cocks his head assessing me. His rather large eyes are a bright crystal blue and are a shocking contrast to his pink-ish colored skin that blends to a deep red to the wings on his back.
I shake my head, “I’m not a freshie, not in the sense that you mean. I didn’t die in The Otherworld. Luc brought me here as compensation for a soul that was raised from the Underworld. He said something about a soul for a soul. The wounds were inflicted by my captor before Luc demanded my release and deposited me here.”
The boy narrows his eyes as he contemplates my answer. Shaking his head, he asks incredulously, “Luc? As in the Prince of The Underworld. That Luc? Well, I ain’t never heard of nothing like that happening before, but I believe you. Come on Mister, we need to move. I’ll take you to my mother, she’s a healer.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the underground borough, it’s much nicer than the surface. You’ll see.” The boy smiles back up at me before turning to walk down toward the tunnel that branches off to the right.
“What’s your name? And you didn’t answer my question from before, are you an imp?”
“Of course, I’m an imp. You act like you ain’t never seen one of my kind before. My name’s Pipperton, but everyone calls me Pip.” He peers back up at me and smiles a toothy grin. That’s when I notice his sharp teeth. Not so angelic looking after all.
Deciding to trust this child, I say, “Well Pip, I most certainly have never seen an imp before, you’re my very first. Can you answer another question? I thought The Underworld was strictly inhabited by the dead. How is it that there are living creatures here?”
“Mister, you got a lot to learn about The Underworld. Come on, we have a ways to walk before we get to our borough. You can ask me as many qu
estions as you want, seeing how yous ignorant of this world.” The little imp just shakes his head and takes off down the passage.
His attitude is one of someone many years his senior and I have to ask, “How old are you Pip?”
“What do you mean?” He looks up at me with wide eyes.
“Well, how many birthdays have you celebrated?”
“What’s a birthday? I ain’t celebrated no birthdays. Don’t know what you mean.”
Okay, now I’m concerned, and the question that begs to be asked is, “How do you track the passage of time here in The Underworld?”
Pip gives me an odd look before he asks, “Why would I need to track time?” He cocks his head and gives me a penetrating stare, “Mister, what’s your name?”
“I’m sorry, Pip, I should have introduced myself, my name is Alaric, and I’m from The Otherworld, and I really need to get back there. My kindred is there, my children are there, and war is brewing. My family needs me.” I see no reason why I can’t tell him the truth.
“You’re a father?” Pip’s huge eyes stare back at me.
I nod, “Yeah, my kindred and I have twins, Lachlan and Lillie.”
Pip’s little face scrunches in concentration, and for a moment I look around me. The tunnel has some sort of natural illumination. I can’t help but think of Ash and her aversion to tight spaces. She would hate it in here. Although, this is much more spacious than the cave leading to Drayiel’s lair and King Arthur’s final resting place. Pip’s response takes me by surprise, “My father left me with my mother. He wanted to win the slave games to give us a better life. He died in the games. I never knew my father.”
Pip continues as if there is nothing wrong with losing his father in what must be a game to the death, he rounds a bend and we come across a large open cavern, the floor narrows to massive stairs that are carved into the stone floor leading down. Here the cavern is somewhat darker, and I swallow hard as I look down into a dark abyss on either side of the stairs. There are no handrails, and in my weakened state, my head begins to swim. I lean against the stone wall to steady myself. “Pip, can we take a break for just a moment?”
“What’s wrong, Mister?” Pips bright blue eyes seem to glow like headlights in the dark.
I chuckle at his calling me mister, “It’s Alaric, you can call me Alaric. I just need a minute. How much further?” I close my eyes and as I do so the bone-deep exhaustion that I’ve been carrying with me for days seeps into my very soul.
“Mister, you don’t look so good,” he pronounces as he peers up at me. “Wait here for me, I’ll go get help. I can glide most of the way down to our borough and be back before you know it.”
Leaning my forehead against the cool smooth surface of the cavern wall, I nod, “That may be a good idea. I’m glad I met you Pip. Thank you for helping me.” I look back up briefly to smile tiredly at the little imp, “I just need to rest for a bit.” I close my eyes as I lean against the cold stone, I’m so hot. My eyelids suddenly feel too heavy to lift.
From a distance, I hear Pip, “Hang in there Mister. I’ll be back with my mother and my uncle.” I just grunt as darkness swallows me.
Exhaustion plagues me, but I rouse to feel as if I’m falling in the darkness. Above me, I hear the beating of wings. Wings? Where am I? I’m so hot, and I can’t seem to open my eyes. I must be dreaming. My last thought is that I need to get back to Ashlinn and the twins.
As I try to break through the fog in my head, I hear a little voice, “Momma, Mister has been sleeping for a long time. Are you sure he’s okay?”
“Pip, who’s the best healer in the borough?” The voice is female, and her tone is gentle and patient. Soft, cool fingers lay across my forehead before trailing down to my back to lift a soft weight from it. I groan when there is a pull to the tender wounds on my flesh. The voice says, “Ah, there he is, Pip. See I told you he would wake soon enough. His fever had to break, and his body just needed time to begin the healing process.”
Groaning again, I realize that I’m lying on my stomach. I try to move my arms, but they won’t budge. Clearing my throat, I try to speak, “Why can’t I move my arms. Am I being restrained?” I rasp out.
“Easy,” I hear from over my shoulder, a gentle hand stays my movement.
Pip’s face is in front of me as I blink away the last remnants of my sleep, his toothy grin is slightly scary with all those razor-sharp teeth, but his eyes are twinkling, “Mister, I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up. You’ve been sleeping forever!”
I try to move again and swear, “Why can’t I move?” My voice is scratchy and gravelly, my mouth is bone dry.
“I’m sorry, my brother insisted on restraining you. He wouldn’t bring you here otherwise. Please don’t struggle. The wounds on your back are finally beginning to knit together. Pip insisted that you were friendly. You must understand that we don’t see a lot of friendlies around these parts. My son knows better than to bring strangers to the borough. I apologize if you are not comfortable. I’ve done my best to position you so that you would be relaxed when you woke. You have been sleeping for over two cycles. Your back is beginning to heal nicely, but it will take some time yet for you to heal completely.”
Sighing, I ask, “May I sit up? Please?”
“Pip, go get your uncle.”
“I promise I mean you no harm.” I say as I try to turn to get a glimpse of Pip’s mother, but she remains outside of my line of sight, “May I ask what your name is?”
“Paynga, my name is Paynga. My brother is… intense. He doesn’t trust easily. It has nothing to do with you, per se, but rather strangers in general. After my mate was taken, he’s been rather overprotective.”
That doesn’t make sense as I recall what Pip had told me before I blacked out, so I ask, “Pip said his father left you and died in the slave games.”
“Oh, he did die in the games, but not how Pip believes it to be. I fabricated how he ended up in the games. I’m trying to protect him from the truth for as long as I can. The truth is that the Princes are always looking for fresh meat to put into their deranged tournaments. You want to avoid the games at all cost. Once you walk into the arena the only way you walk out is if you win, and the only way to win is to kill the opponent you are pitted against. All that death and mayhem for the amusement of the Princes,” her tone rings of bitter loss and contempt. Paynga finally comes into view. Her coloring is different from Pip’s, his skin tones are pink lending to red and Paynga’s is the absence of color. She is porcelain white with some gray shading. Her black horns have grown forward before curving back over her head to eventually curve skyward. Her elongated pointed ears have multiple piercings, her hair is a lustrous silver with streaks of black, her crystalline blue eyes are piercing and remind me of Pip’s, and her large wings are pulled in tightly against her back and easily touch the ground. She possesses an innate grace and as strange as her appearance is to me, she is an exotic beauty. She sits beside me and pins me with her penetrating gaze before she points her talon-like finger to the cuffs that bind me and says, “I have heard talk of these, grant it, not for a very long time. You are not what you appear. Are you? You are a god that doesn’t belong here in the realm of The Underworld. Why are you here? I can’t allow you to bring attention to us in this borough.”
Before I can reply, Pip burst back into the room, “I found him, Momma. He’s on his way. Hey Mister, you better? Maybe not all better, but at least you’re awake now.”
I can’t help but grin at the nickname that I have been bestowed, he’s a cute kid. I struggle with my restraints and groan again when I realize how weak I feel. I can’t remember when I ate last. If I’m going to survive, I need nourishment and decide to voice my thoughts. “Paynga, I promise that we will continue this discussion a little later, but I want to reassure you that I would never bring unwanted attention to your home, not intentionally. For now, I’m at your mercy. I’m in no condition to travel a realm that I know little to nothing abou
t. I haven’t eaten in days, twice as long as I’ve been here, probably longer. All I know is that I’m starving and extremely thirsty. I promise I will make it up to you and Pip. I’ll trade manual labor for your help. I’ll do whatever it takes to repay you for your generosity. On my honor, you have my solemn vow.”
“You will be on your way as soon as you are fit to travel. Strangers are not welcome here. Your being here puts us all in danger.” The voice is deep, masculine, and at the very least… hostile. Red-skinned talon like hands appear in front of me to release my restraints, before he continues, “It goes against my better judgment for you to be here at all, but Pip insisted. He also insisted that you don’t belong here in The Underworld and that we need to help you.” He pulls back, and I struggle to sit up. I’m definitely unsteady, my arms shaking with the effort. I hang my head as I gather my strength. I can’t remember ever feeling so vulnerable and weak. How the hell am I ever going to be able to take care of Ash and the twins? If it weren’t for these accursed cuffs, I would be healed by now and back to myself. It has not escaped my notice that I’m utterly useless at the moment. I look up to see Pip’s uncle. He is… intimidating, just as Paynga said. His appearance is full of contrast, his skin is red, almost crimson, his horns are black and menacing, his eyes are a startling crystalline blue, and his hair is long, wild, and unruly, and it’s white. Then there is his stance, his leathery wings are extended and threatening.
