Descent Into Underearth

by Susan Bianculli

  Heather and I followed him as if he were our commanding officer, and I was grateful as we headed towards the tunnel that we weren’t stopped by anyone, though we did get some funny looks as we passed other Under-elves.

  “It’s got to be the armor,” I whispered to Arghen and Heather after the fourth funny look in a row. “We need to ditch it.”

  “We cannot just yet,” Arghen said. “We will be too obvious if we do.”

  Looking around, I saw a series of shelves set up near the tunnel entrances holding all kinds of equipment. “Is that the quartermaster’s area?” I asked.

  “Quartermaster? If you mean Allocations, then yes. I can see what you are thinking, Lise, and approve. Let us do so,” Arghen replied.

  “What are we doing?” asked Heather, a lost look on her face.

  “Getting replacements,” I said with a grin.

  As bold as brass, Arghen swept up to the supply counter and loudly complained of our shame in not avoiding a ceiling collapse. He ordered us to strip out of our armor while detailing to the being behind the counter what sizes were needed to replace our damaged equipment. I didn’t pay any attention to whom Arghen was talking at while I was getting my armor off, but as I handed my pile across the counter I was surprised to find that it wasn’t to an Under-elf. It was to one of those Kobold creatures. As the pale grey creature took the pile from me he blinked at me and then gasped.

  Arghen whipped out a knife and held it to the Kobold’s throat. “If you so much as talk loudly, you are dead,” he threatened.

  “No, no, I will not scream. I am Jamaj. You helped me! Now I will help you!” the Kobold squeaked.

  It was Arghen’s turn to blink, and the knife point wavered.

  But I understood what the Kobold meant. “Arghen! He’s one of the Kobolds we helped save from being sacrificed!”

  I pushed the knife down and away from the Kobold’s throat, and Arghen reluctantly, I thought, holstered the weapon.

  “Be warned …,” he said to the Kobold, giving him a forbidding scowl.

  “No, no. I will not give you away. What you need, I will get,” he said gratefully.

  The Kobold raced among the shelves furiously, looking for the perfect replacements for our dented armor, and for Arghen. When he was done, all three of us had clean armor and clothes, and wore marks of rank that were important enough to not have us be stopped by various beings, but also not high enough to be noticeable as we made our way through Chirasniv. Or so he assured us.

  “I will hide the equipment you will not need here for you. Is there anything else you desire?” the Kobold asked.

  “Yes!” I said. “Have you seen any Surfacers come through here lately?”

  The Kobold said, “Yes, I saw Surfacers lately. They came in three Darkenings ago.”

  “Were there many of them? Did you see any up close?”

  The Kobold frowned in concentration. “I do not know how many Surfacers. I did see there were some smaller ones and some bigger ones.”

  I clutched at Arghen’s shoulder. “You hear that? Big ones—like maybe the Miscere Giants and Ogres who had kidnapped Jason! And so maybe Jason, too!”

  Arghen smiled for the first time since leaving Auraus and Ragar behind. “You have done well, Jamaj. We thank you.”

  The Kobold blushed and ducked his head. “You need anything else, you come back here.”

  “Oh, but you’ve already been so helpful,” I said.

  “I am repaying not only for myself, but for my now-mate. You saved her, too,” Jamaj said.

  That made me really happy, and I smiled. “I am so glad to hear that!”

  The Kobold looked over our shoulders and hissed, “Go! Others come.”

  Arghen and Heather and I thanked him again, quietly, and sauntered out as a small detachment of warriors barreled down on the Allocation’s area, arguing loudly among themselves.

  As we strolled, without hurry, away from Allocations, I said, “That was a stroke of luck. We couldn’t have asked for better help.”

  Arghen smiled. “Perhaps my goddess, Quiris, is looking out for us down here.”

  I felt comforted by that thought.

  “Is everything out in the open down here?” Heather interjected, puzzled.

  “What do you mean, out in the open?” I asked.

  She gestured to what looked like a barracks area set up with rows of what looked like bunk beds, each with an armor stand and a chest for storage at the feet. “There are no buildings or anything.”

  “Why would Under-elves need buildings when they live under a roof all their lives?” I asked her. “There’s no weather here that they need to protect themselves from.”

  Heather fell quiet, digesting that thought, as we left the supply area. We headed for the tunnel to the Martial Ring, accepting the occasional salute our new rank demanded. Heather and I followed Arghen’s lead whenever he saluted someone else.

  Once we got into the tunnel, we found the twisty passageways that Arghen had said connected the living quarters for the military to each other, and eventually to the next area. The white moss and luminescent lichen were on the walls here, too, keeping the air fresh. In closer quarters the smell of the moss was very green, despite the color; and the light was brighter, which was both a relief and something to be nervous about because that made us much more visible. But it seemed that everyone we passed paid more attention to the marks of rank than to those who wore them. I had been afraid that we would find it difficult to make it through to the next set of caverns, but it turned out that the tunnel from the military grounds, while not being exactly straight, did lead fairly straightforwardly to the next set of open caverns.

  The next section was the farmlands and the breeding lands, which I privately called ‘the countryside’. Once again the moss and the lichen climbed up the walls to the ceiling, but this time there were no lamp pillars scattered about. Instead, there were areas of mushrooms and corrals of large lizards and other animals I couldn’t even begin to describe divided up by straight paths purposefully lined with lichen to show where beings should to walk. I saw Kobolds and others working among the mushrooms with Under-elf overseers. Near to each set of crop areas were fenced-in places that held what looked like multiple campsites. Moving among them I could just see Kobolds and other subterranean dwellers, and I realized that was where the ‘lesser breeds’ slept. I also, for the first time since Meritzon, the town where we first learned enough to start this crazy quest, saw children of the farming races. But they were not noisily at play; they were instead quietly at work alongside those who were likely their parents. Which made me realize that it was fairly quiet overall in the caverns, with only the occasional murmurs from the Under-elves directing their workers.

  I was going to ask questions about what we were seeing, but Arghen cautioned me with a shake of his white hair. I realized by that that my questions would have been too loud and would have definitely drawn attention, so I stifled them until a better time.

  CHAPTER 15

  The Civilian Ring was busier than the Martial Ring, not surprisingly. Many of the warriors were probably on the training fields that we’d passed through for the Martial Ring, which was what had made it easier to travel. Here we moved through a sea of Under-elves, and here was where I saw my first Under-elf children. I was a little nervous about it, considering my last interaction with Elven children, but these youngsters were far better behaved than the little criminals I’d seen before. Squinting at them, I saw that they really weren’t all that different from the Surface-elf children except in color. And, really, it was the same for the adult Under-elves, too. They didn’t look all that different except in skin color—or rather, lack thereof. It was a pity there was animosity between the Sub-realms and the Surface.

  I was nervous when we entered the Civilian Ring since there would be so many more eyes about to possibly see through Heather’s and my disguises, but paradoxically it seemed that the more Under-elves there were, the less we were actuall
y seen. I saw various passersby sliding looks at us as we walked, but once again they seemed to look for the marks of rank first, and apparently what they saw left them satisfied. I prayed thanks to Caelestis as we walked for the help the Kobold had given us, because I hadn’t realized just how hugely Jamaj had assisted us until now. Surprisingly, I barely got a weak mental twitch in return. That worried me, and I resolved to speak to Arghen about it the first chance I got.

  A commotion happened in the tunnel somewhere ahead of us, and traffic slowed considerably. Concerned, the three of us drew together, and we looked around for exit tunnels from the main thoroughfare in case somehow we had been found out. We were able to see through the now milling crowd a little to what was happening. A pair of Under-elves, a male and a female, were standing toe-to-toe in the center of the corridor, arguing. Heather and I couldn’t hear what the subject they were arguing about was as their voices were not all that loud to us humans, but we noted from the highly amused expressions of the crowd as they watched the pair that this wasn’t an unusual sight. A couple of males to my left started quietly placing bets on whether the male or the female would draw a dagger first.

  The male just then threw up his hands in exasperation and looked around. Spotting us through the press of bodies he beckoned us over imperiously. Arghen looked put on the spot, and Heather and I exchanged nervous glances. But there was no help for it. We would be too conspicuous were we to refuse to get involved. The crowd parted all the way for us as we slowly went over to join the two arguers.

  “Captain!” said the male expansively to Arghen when we reached them. “Please tell this–female–that she is in the wrong!”

  “Captain! This–male–is making assumptions that are in no ways correct! Please inform him of his errors!” she spat in return, glowering at her companion.

  Arghen said diplomatically, “Perhaps this place is not the best place for such a display. Choose the nearest place to have a discussion,” then added shrewdly, “if, indeed, you wish to have it resolved.”

  The male and female Under-elf glared briefly at each other before pinning their gazes on Arghen. If those brief glances at each other had been daggers, there would have been blood on the floor.

  The female spoke up reluctantly. “The closest discussion room is just down the left corridor.”

  I smirked to myself. Her tone led me to believe that she was in the wrong and knew it. But thankfully I hadn’t been tapped to make the call. Since Arghen had a much better chance of understanding Under-elf protocol than I did, I hid my expression from her.

  “Lead the way,” said Arghen with just the barest hint of a salute to them.

  Catching that, Heather and I stood to attention. The female and male looked surprised, but they shouted at those still standing about to make way. Once again the crowd parted to reveal one of the corridors we had considered hiding down a few moments ago. The male sailed grandly down it while the female took short, stomping steps behind him, leaving us to hurriedly bring up the rear.

  A couple of turns of the corridor later, after passing by plain doors that all looked alike, the pair stopped short at another unremarkable door. The two Under-elves opened it to reveal a room decorated like an office conference room back home. There was a long, narrow wooden table that, though prettily carved, also bore many scars on the surface. There were comfortably padded leather and wood chairs with large crystals embedded in them ranging along both sides of the table, but strangely there were no chairs at either end. The floor was carpeted in a tapestry of geometric designs in dull blacks and reds, the walls had paintings on them in what I’d call Abstract Cubism also done in dull colors. Lastly, the ceiling was completely covered in the air moss, with magical globes decked in more crystals of many colors hanging down from it in an abstract pattern to provide light to the room. Heather looked at the crystals appreciatively with a gleam in her eyes.

  Arghen subtly indicated to me and her that we should take a seat. Heather and I glanced at each other and chose seats side-by-side as close to the middle of the table as we could. Arghen mirrored us on the other side. The two Under-elves each went to an end of the table and stood there waiting. In a flash I understood why there were no chairs where they stood. It was probably to prevent long, drawn out battles of will, which might have happened were the arguers to be seated comfortably. The arbiters, which is what I guessed we were now, obviously were allowed to sit while the wrangling went on.

  Arghen held up a hand. “This discussion will begin. The senior party will speak first.”

  Both Under-elves raised an eyebrow at him before, not surprisingly, the male spoke. “My dear Captain, please tell Jolinda that she is to agree with me.”

  Arghen waited, but the Under-elf simply stopped there as if waiting for Arghen to order her to do so.

  “And?” Arghen eventually prompted.

  The male looked surprised. “Are you not going to question my statement?”

  I startled. I could tell by the male’s surprise that Arghen had misstepped somehow, and I prayed that it would be quickly forgotten.

  “Of course I could,” Arghen meanwhile replied smoothly to him. “But I had thought that two beings of your stature would not stoop to making one such as me ask for every little procedural step. I can see that the both of you are well bred and educated, so much so, that I would be surprised if you did not know the procedures even better than I. Indeed, I would appreciate it if the formalities were skipped.”

  Jolinda managed to look both mollified and disgruntled at the same time as she said, “Oh, very well. My long-mate Keldir and I are having a disagreement.”

  I hadn’t heard that term before, but I figured it meant ‘husband’ in this case. So that implied this was a marital spat we were sitting in on. Lovely.

  “We have been to the Exchange, and we are at odds over what choices to make there,” Keldir explained.

  I wrinkled my brow in confusion at the term as Arghen looked at Jolinda. “Do you agree with this statement?”

  “Yes,” she said with annoyance.

  Arghen waited, but that seemed all she was willing to say. He turned back to Keldir. “Would you please tell us the nature of your, ah, disagreement?”

  It turned out Keldir and Jolinda were high enough on the food chain to use something called the Exchange, but not quite high enough to be allowed living in the Leadership ring. The couple were going to be hosting a reception for some Council members soon in order to try and get space in the Leadership Ring, but they couldn’t agree on what magic item to use and which Surfacer to request the services of.

  I was completely lost about the argument. It sounded like the Exchange was some kind of agency, but why would they specifically need a Surfacer from it to serve at a function? Were there that few Surfacers that they were rented out from agencies like–like–escorts or something? Were Surfacers a mark of prestige or something down here?

  “Without wishing to delve into your personal business and social privacies too deeply, what are the tastes of the august guests you plan to suitably host?” Arghen asked them both.

  The two fell into point and counterpoint over the likes and dislikes of the proposed guests. It became apparent that two radically different types of Under-elves were invited to the function, as far as taste would be concerned. I felt funny about being part of the deciding vote in which poor Surfacer would be forced into their unpleasant company for the length of time the function would require, but I knew that I couldn’t say anything about my feelings. I snuck a look at Heather and saw that she wasn’t too happy about it, either.

  The sameness of the Under-elf couple’s arguments after a while made me zone out a little, so I was caught completely by surprise when Jolinda jumped up on the table with an angry hiss, drew out a beautiful but deadly looking dagger, and charged down the center towards Keldir. Keldir also jumped up on the table, drew his own dagger, and charged to meet Jolinda in battle! They met in the center of the table in a loud clash of metal on met
al, right in front of where Arghen, Heather and I sat.

  “Whoa!” Heather yelped as she and I jumped out of our seats to get away from the fight.

  Jolinda sliced at Keldir’s chest, but he dodged her attack by shifting to the right. He came back at her, aiming at her head, but she dropped flat and let his dagger sweep over her. Jolinda rose from the table and sliced up at his hip, making him flip backwards to avoid her. She charged him again, aiming for his dagger hand, but Keldir tossed the dagger from his right to his left and sliced a line through her right sleeve.

  “First strike—Keldir!” called Arghen. “Desist!”

  I looked at Arghen in surprise as I discovered he hadn’t moved from the battle. The couple separated to their respective ends of the table again, and took their places, breathing heavily. Now I knew why the table top was scarred, if that was the sort of thing happened regularly during discussions. Heather and I sat down, and the argument started up again. Looking around, I began to realize that what I thought was a sort of Abstract Cubist art on the walls wasn’t always that. Sometimes, what I saw were actually blood splatters on the paintings. As more time passed in the dreary argument, I couldn’t help but bounce my knee. The longer we stayed in one place, the longer Jason suffered wherever he was, and that made me anxious. I made a subtle movement with my hand to catch Arghen’s eye, but it also unfortunately caught the eyes of the two fighting Under-elves. They both turned accusing scowls on me.

  “Are we boring you, Sub-leader?” Jolinda inquired of me acidly.

  “Are you not happy performing your function of peace officer, Sub-leader?” Keldir added sharply.

  I was badly startled, but managed to hide it. WE were peace officers as well as military? Then the second part of what she said sunk in. Sub-leader. So that was the name of the rank the Kobold had given Heather and me. That was good to know, at least. The first was quite a surprise to find out.

  I sweated a little as I cleared my throat to speak, but Arghen spoke over me. “My Sub-leader is wounded, as you can see,” he said, indicating my bandaged head with a wave of his hand. “That we are here at all is testament to the seriousness that we take our duties. But you are also preventing us from seeking attention for the wound by unnecessarily dragging out this argument by repetition. I have a simple solution to propose.”