“You–what are you?” came a melodic, hesitant voice. It was Emalai’s.
The black-haired Surface-elf had been kneeling beside Heather to give comfort to my friend, but she had stood up and pointed a shaking hand at me when she’d seen both my ears revealed.
“She is a Human,” Arghen said matter-of-factly, finishing tying off the bandage around my head.
Emalai looked at him, indecision clear on her beautiful face on how to respond to him. He was an Under-elf, so he would be her master—but he had been part of the group who had just rescued her from her owners, which was just the opposite of being a master. I could understand her confusion because I lived it every day in one way or another.
“It’s okay,” I said soothingly. “I am a human, and we’re here to rescue Surfacers like yourself although we’re here for one in particular, as far as I am concerned.” I looked at my companion on the ground beside her. “You okay, Heather?”
Heather glanced at me before looking up at the Surface-elf. “Yeah, I’m fine, Lise. So, Emma, you got something against humans?” she asked the black-haired Surface-elf curiously.
“Emalai. And, well, Humans are a legend …,” Emalai began, but trailed off when she saw Heather grin toothily in amusement.
“That’s funny, because where Lise and I come from, Elves are legends!” Heather said cheerily.
Emalai looked in shock at her. “You are Human, too?”
“Yup.”
Arghen stepped in at this moment. “I appreciate the cultural exchange, but we have to sort some things out right away. First, Emalai, we need to talk to you; but even before that, Lise, Heather, we need to hide these bodies.”
Arghen and I looted the bodies of money and jewelry, and then Heather, Arghen and I took the corpses to the back of the rest area. We scrounged from around the outside of the walls moss to cover our deadly handiwork. It wasn’t great, but hopefully it would work for a while.
“What happens now?” asked Emalai when we were as done as we were going to get.
We formally introduced ourselves to her.
“That is amazing—two Champions travelling together?” she asked in wonder.
“Our Deities do work together,” Arghen said modestly. “Is that so surprising?”
“Given that there are not many Champions at any one time, that your goddesses think it is important enough to send not just one, but two down here, gives me hope many Surfacers will be rescued from this pestilent place. Praise to Caelestis and Quiris!” she said fervently.
I raised my eyebrows. Not many Champions at one time, eh?
That was new to me. I opened my mouth to correct Emalai as to why we had come down here and then to ask Arghen about what she said, but I shut it and wisely decided to ask him at a time when the black-haired Surface-elf wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to do anything to shake her new-found faith. Instead, I filled her in on the plan of having her be a shield for us after altering her looks a little.
She shook her black haired head at me. “That is not necessary. You could say that I was a present to Arghen from Jodron and Descora, since he wears the higher rank. Slaves like us are either in the Exchange or are individually owned—and if individually owned, we can be given away on a whim.” She said the last bit with a tinge of disgust.
“Could you tell us more about the Exchange?” I asked.
Emalai described to us something that sounded like an employment agency back home, except it was only available to be used by those who lived and worked in the Leadership Ring, by those who were of sufficient rank in the military, or by those who lived in the Civilian Ring but were given permission. Under-elves could come to the Exchange and request the use of a magical item from the posted list of what was available. He or she would then take his or her pick of the Surfacers to use it on his or her behalf and return both by the next Darkening period, or whatever timeframe was arranged. The slaves lived together in a few communal rooms in the Exchange except when picked for use.
I was happy to learn that there were more Surfacers in one place than we had thought, and that lifted my spirits. That meant there was a chance to get a bunch of them out with us when we left! Heather must have been thinking the same thing as me, because she gave me a thumbs-up.
I grinned at her, and then asked Emalai, “Speaking of Lightening and Darkening, is there a difference when the Under-elves of Chirasniv are awake versus being asleep?”
I wondered if maybe the Under-elves treated the Darkening like night, and I had a vague notion of somehow using it to our advantage.
“There is no appreciable difference in activity levels between Darkening and Lightening,” she replied. “I think that is to prevent the congestion of the tunnels were everyone to be awake at the same time.”
Arghen added, “And what is true for Chirasniv in this case is also true for Relkanav, the city-state from which I come. It would be true for every other city-state, I would suspect.”
Drat. So much for using a ‘nighttime’ to operate in.
“As for noticing the difference between the two states of light, I did not when I first was brought down here, but I have since become attuned to it, and the Brightenings and the Dimmings as well,” she finished.
“One other question, please. Do you have problems with magic items going–funny–when they’re used down here?” Heather interjected.
Emalai looked blank. “What do you mean by that?”
We told her about what had happened to Auraus’ spells back in the cavern.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Nothing like that has ever happened here, and I have used my master’s–my ex-master’s–vial everywhere in Chirasniv, it seems.”
Arghen got a thoughtful look on his face. “I wonder if perhaps these Under-elves cleared away iron from the area, or areas, they were planning to live in when they renounced the Surface so they could eventually use magic?”
“But I thought Under-elves renounced magic and Deities and stuff when they renounced the surface?” I asked.
Arghen nodded. “They did—or at least, that is how I was told the story. And the Under-elves of my city-state do not use magic. I was quite surprised to find out that these Under-elves do.”
“But the Under-elves would have gone mad and died touching the iron while removing it, wouldn’t they have?” I asked, going back to the previous question.
Arghen shrugged. “Not if they got the Kobolds and the other races to do it for them.”
Ah. Right. That upper-class/lower-class thing the Under-elves had going on. And from Arghen’s words it looked like the division had been built right into the Under-elves beginnings as a race.
“We can converse more on the way to Central Court and then the Exchange,” Arghen said. “We should not linger. If a peace patrol comes along and notices the cover-up in the back of this area, no one’s rank will matter until they catch the culprits. Which means we will have no way to blend with the populace and no place to hide.”
I reached over to take the lead and collar off Emalai, but both she and Arghen stopped me.
“It will look better if I am still on this,” she said, handing the lead to Arghen. “I have never seen a slave in the Sub-realms off one.”
I grimaced but returned my hands to my sides.
“Then it’s a good thing after all that Auraus isn’t with us,” I said in general, remembering back to the Wind-rider’s bad experiences with collars.
Arghen nodded.
Heather, who had been eyeing what Emalai reluctantly wore, said, “Well, at least they have taste, if nothing else.”
I looked at her with disbelief.
“The design of the silver filigree of the collar is stunning, and the way the sapphires, rubies and diamonds are placed in it to make matching sub-patterns on the filigree makes it a fascinating statement piece,” she said with a shrug. “It is an incredible piece of art, and I’d wear it in a heartbeat—without the lead, of course.”
I widened my eyes
as I understood that what I thought were rhinestones were in fact real gems. Heather’s seemingly casual knowledge of what was probably expensive jewelry drove home to me the difference in our social statuses back in New York. Then I wondered if the gleam I’d seen in her eyes back in the discussion room of the Civilian Ring was because what I’d thought were crystals decorating the room were actually gemstones. I looked away, feeling a little intimidated by her all of a sudden.
Emalai turned to Heather and raised her eyebrows. “You would willing wear the symbol of someone else’s ownership over you?”
Heather dropped her eyes and stuttered, “Umm, n-no, of course not! Not in that way! Uh, what I mean, that is, what I meant to say, uh …”
“Come,” interrupted Arghen as he turned towards the Leadership Ring, and Heather shot him a grateful look.
Emalai followed him on her lead, and Heather and I fell into step behind her but still close enough for us to be able to talk quietly with Arghen. I hated seeing the lead on the Surface-elf, but I accepted there was no other choice for now.
“So, the Under-elves really do not use magic at all in your city-state? Why not?” Heather asked him as we walked.
“No. There is no magic allowed in Relkanav,” he replied, “And the reason goes back to when the Under-elves were created. However now is not the time for a history lesson. I promise I will tell you the story at another time.”
I smiled to myself, remembering the long ago Under-elf story that Arghen told to Jason and me one night sitting around the campfire.
Emalai looked interested. “So it is true? You are in fact not originally from Chirasniv, then?”
He smiled at her. “No. I am, in fact, not. Much of my knowledge of our surroundings is based on what used to be my home city-state before coming to the Surface under my Goddess Quiris’ aegis. I am hoping there are enough similarities between this place and where I grew to adulthood that I will be able to guide us all through without harm.”
“I would like to vote we scout out Central Court first to see if Jason is there,” I broke in. “The sooner we rescue him, the better his chances will be.” I reached a hand into my belt pouch and stroked again the vial that Caelestis had given me for him, needing to feel it for reassurance.
“Yes, Lise,” Arghen agreed. “That had been my plan. Let us find and help Jason first, and then on the way out we can visit the Exchange and make a large, permanent withdrawal of Surfacers and items.”
Emalai smiled.
We made our way through the park without further incident, and we saw a couple of other Surfacers also on bejeweled collars and leads in the possession of other Under-elves. Emalai nodded to these others, who returned her nods.
“You know them? Are they members of the Exchange? Do you know all the members?” I asked her, trying to keep my excitement down.
“No, I do not know these we have seen. They are privately held, as I was. You can tell members of the Exchange by the tabards they wear in public over their white robes. It is always an ankle length black tabard, which is edged in white with a white starburst on the chest and back, and belted in white as well. We fellow Surfacers have a camaraderie among us from our shared captivity, especially if we have been taken to the same places, so we will always give each other greetings. But I have served at Council functions and meetings with quite a few members of the Exchange, and so I do know some of them on sight.”
“Where is the Exchange?” Heather asked.
“It is located in the breeding lands.”
I blinked. We’d passed it, and not even known it? Then I remembered from Arghen’s description that the breeding lands caverns circled around the Civilian Ring, so the Exchange was probably located in a different cavern than the one we’d gone through.
“How long has this Exchange been going on, and do you know how to get there from Central Court?” I asked.
Emalai replied, “I can get to the Exchange from anywhere in Chirasniv, and the Exchange has been going on many seasonals, as far as I know. Or so I assume—it is hard to keep track of seasonals underground. Too many to count, probably. It started small, I have been told, but lately it has grown.”
Arghen cocked his head to one side. “Ah. So that must be why the Under-elves formed a partnership with Morsca. They must want to do away with the Exchange and give each of the wealthy and important Under-elves their own Surfacer. This fits with the conversation we had a while ago, Lise, when you asked how long Morsca’s setting up had been going on, and we conjectured probably for far longer than the kidnappings had been occurring.”
I remembered. And if that thought was correct, there would eventually be hell to pay from the Under-elves whose access to Surfacers had just been cut off.
“How long have you been here?” Heather asked.
Emalai shrugged again. “I do not know. There is a sort of timelessness underground because I do not see the turnings of the seasons. But I am sure it has been many seasonals,” she said wistfully.
“Hush,” Arghen commanded. “We are nearing the Leadership Ring.”
CHAPTER 18
The Leadership Ring was busier than either the Martial Ring or the Civilian Ring, but it was somehow more orderly. Under-elves moved steadily in and out of the multiple cross corridors off the main thoroughfare on their way to doing who knew what without the bunching that we saw in the other Rings.
I badly wanted to comment to Heather about the almost clock-like movements of the traffic flow, but I knew that it would be an even worse idea to talk here than it had been in the Civilian Ring. This was reinforced by Arghen’s occasional backward glances of warning at us. Heather and I heeded them, and we made our way through the Leadership Ring without trouble. I grew excited when finally down the corridor I saw a large space open up. It had to be Central Court! I restrained myself from making any exclamation, but Heather, Arghen and Emalai could sense my sudden anticipation.
Arghen stopped by the posted sign that listed the events happening in Central Court. “Markets, Judgments, Announcements—ah, here we are: Art.”
I drew in a sharp breath as my face paled under my makeup, remembering the barbaric Under-elven form of art. That Arghen went looking for Art above any other category told me he thought that Jason was being tortured. Emalai turned and looked at me, but whatever she saw in my face made her turn around again, looking uneasy.
“Emalai, can you lead us without seeming to lead us to the Art section?” Arghen asked quietly.
She nodded, gesturing with a slight hand movement to turn to the right. Following her subtle movements, Arghen led us into Central Cavern. Because Central Cavern wasn’t really round, there was an irregular shaped open area in the very center created so that the pie-slice-shaped areas for the rest of the cavern were close to even in area and shape. In that irregular area was a stage big enough for a rock-n-roll show to handle half-time at the Superbowl. And continuing the Superbowl-like analogy, stone benches lined with air moss started around the outside of the pie slices near the cavern walls and went stadium-like up towards the ceiling. I whistled soundlessly. Probably every person in Chirasniv could fit in those benches.
The rest of Central Court was set up like the marketplace in Meritzon, only there was more space in between the stalls. There was a market place where you could buy things like clothes, pots, jewelry, and stuff; a place where lower functionary government types dispensed whatever passed for Chirasnivian justice; a place where food was bought, sold, and cooked to order; and other places around the cavern that I didn’t get close enough to see—all connected by walking paths outlined in more air moss, with the occasional multi-colored air moss garden scattered here and there. Lamp pillars with the luminescent lichen like we’d seen in the military section were spaced evenly around the whole area giving decent lighting, though still dim-ish, to the entire cavern. Though the Central Court looked busy, it was by no means crowded. It was more like a suburban mall on a Sunday during good weather.
I tugged on Emala
i’s sleeve and motioned to the stage.
She replied quietly as we walked on, “The Announcements Stage is where things of import are announced to the population of Chirasniv, who would be sitting on the cavern benches when such a thing is scheduled.”
Ah. I tried to picture to myself what that would look like, but all I could think about was fans in the bleachers at a Met’s game.
I tried to prepare myself for what I would see in the Art section, but what I saw went beyond what I could have imagined. It was awful. I was instantly reminded of the backyard of the keep where the outdoor cages had been. The cages here were set up the same: small one person cages set up in a checkerboard pattern—although this place had defined walkways spaced evenly around each cage to allow better viewing. This section was much less busy than the other sections we had travelled through, but that didn’t mean it was empty. We needed to search this place until we found Jason without looking like we were looking for anyone in particular.
Heather turned green under her makeup, and I wasn’t much better. Perhaps wanting to spare my feelings, Arghen really hadn’t gone into detail when he’d first told me about Under-elf art. Now I wondered if that had been a good or a bad thing. I might have been better prepared for what I saw if he had, but then again, I might have become a wreck with worry. After the first glance at the first pitiful Surfacer I saw pinned to the board inside his cage, I looked down at the path. I felt angry, sad, horrified. I had had a vague idea in mind of rescuing the other victims in the Art area along with Jason, but if all the victims in the Art area were like the poor Surface-elf we stood almost gaping at, then there was no way to take them with us. The ointment that Arghen had used on me back in Parks and Recreation was almost all gone, and what was left would not take care of all the horrific things I saw on even one Surfacer here. Tears started to run down my cheeks, matching the ones falling down Heather’s.
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