Descent Into Underearth

by Susan Bianculli

  “How did that happen?” I asked.

  Jason and I exchanged surprised glances as she rubbed her thumb and her first two fingers together in what Jason and I recognized as the age-old sign for money. It made me think that perhaps our two worlds hadn’t grown as far apart as I had been thinking they had, after all.

  “So, Re-conditioning is in the Martial Ring?” I asked innocently.

  Arghen turned a steady look on me. “Lise. We cannot rescue them as well. We would be risking the whole rescue were we to try. You do wish to get Jason to the Surface, do you not?”

  I thinned my lips as Jason carefully did not look at me. Damn the Under-elf for knowing my weak spot!

  “I suppose not,” I sighed. “But if we get some opportunity to add to our band, we’re going to take it,” I ended firmly.

  Arghen gave me a single nod of acknowledgment about my statement.

  It didn’t take us long to get to the Exchange after passing the pen. The entrance was unmarked, like all the other doors in Chirasniv. But the fact there was a door in the otherwise solid cave wall, and that well-marked paths from all across the breeding grounds converged in a large space before it, would have made it something for us to check out if we hadn’t already known what it was.

  We stopped in that open area before the door, and I took a deep breath. “Let’s go in as if we were going to request a Surfacer and a magic item first. Falling into a usual routine may give us the needed drop on the Under-elf workers there. Everybody ready?”

  Nods all around.

  Jason took my arm, and I stiffened in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re long-mates,” he said, as if it were the most reasonable thing. Looking at Emalai, he asked, “Is this unreasonable? Would a wealthy Under-elf be a long-mate to a military member?”

  She nodded. “Yes. In fact you would be less suspicious if you were a mated couple going into the Exchange, I think.”

  I relaxed into Jason’s arm. “Well, if it helps our disguise,” I said with a smile at him.

  He grinned back. Emalai opened the door for us, and we entered.

  The foyer of the Exchange was pretty grand. The air-giving moss was grown in patterns on the walls here, and the floor was covered in a carpet similar to the dull-colored geometric patterned one we’d seen in the discussion room. The walls had intricate, sharp-angled metallic art made from gold, silver and bronze hanging on them which were lit from behind to provide lighting for the room. There were also large, stylized representations of weapons covered in jewels displayed on the walls interspersed with the lighting. Jason’s eyes glittered at them, and I poked him in the ribs before anyone saw the direction of his gaze. We walked up the long room to a large marble desk which stood at the ‘T’ of the room with hallways to either side. Two male Under-elves—one who looked like an administrator and one who was clearly a guard—were behind the desk. The guard stood at attention behind the administrator who was seated in a large, carved and padded stone chair, and both looked expectantly at us as we approached.

  As we neared the desk a richly dressed female Under-elf, escorted by a second Under-elf male guard, came out from a side corridor to the left of the desk. She lead a solemn-faced male Surface-elf on a decorative collar something like what Emalai wore, except that his was gold, silver and bronze which matched the metals and design of the artwork on the walls, and had no jewels on it. He wore the tabard that Emalia had described to us over a plain white robe, and he held in his hands something that looked like a large faceted crystal.

  “Ah, Matron. Have you made your decisions?” the Under-elf behind the desk asked the female while holding up a ‘please wait’ hand to us.

  “Yes,” she haughtily replied. “Kernen and the multi-light crystal will be perfect for my purposes.”

  The Under-elf behind the desk smiled at her. “Very good, Matron. We will see you in two Darkenings.”

  The Surface-elf and Emalai nodded to each other as his temporary owner led him past us on his leash out of the Exchange.

  “My name is Farleigh, gentle Patron and Matron. How may I assist you?” the Under-elf behind the counter said in an ingratiating voice to us once we were alone.

  Arghen stepped to the side with Emalai, and I realized I was on. I gulped.

  “Ah, yes. My, err, long-mate and I were thinking of hosting a small party to celebrate some good fortune,” I said a little nervously.

  Farleigh asked inquisitively, “I see. Since I have never seen you in here before, I assume it must be to celebrate moving up to the Leadership Ring?”

  Confidence growing since the Under-elf in front of me seemed to accept my words, I said, “Yes. We’re moving to the Leadership Ring, and we want to host a celebration meal to thank those who helped us make the move. We were told by Jodron and Descora to ask you for suggestions on the best ideas of pairings between items and Surfacers to handle this kind of event.”

  Jason looked at me proudly, and I squeezed his arm.

  Farleigh broke out into a wide smile. “Yes, of course. Since getting their own Surfacer they have not been coming here, of course, but Jodron and Descora were for a while one of my most frequent and well-paying clients. I am pleased they have recommended my help to you.”

  Jason smiled at the Under-elf behind the counter and wordlessly patted Jodron’s money pouch hanging on his belt. It jingled significantly.

  “Which would you like to see first? The items or the Surfacers?” Farleigh asked with a wide smile.

  “The Surfacers,” Jason spoke up with just the right touch of dismissiveness.

  Farleigh, accompanied by one of the guards from the foyer, led us down the side corridor that the female Under-elf had come from to a solid-looking stone door. He unlocked it with a large, fancy key that hung on a long chain around his neck. The door groaned as it rolled into the wall to reveal what was behind it. It was a large room about twelve feet tall and about the size of my high school cafeteria, which was pretty big. The air moss covered the ceiling in here, and some attempt had been made, probably by the inhabitants, to muralize the walls with pictures of meadows, forests, lakes, and streams. The room had many Surfacers here—from peach-skinned Surface-elves, to sleek-furred Fauns, to black-skinned Ogres, to grey-green Goblins, to some races I hadn’t seen before—and all of them ranged in looks from pretty or handsome to drop-dead gorgeous. They were seated quietly on sofas or at tables and chairs in groups of three or four. Some were playing cards, some were knitting, and some were staring off into space. The one thing that they all shared, though, was the look of hopelessness on their faces.

  “Hup, hup!” commanded Farleigh, and the assembled beings rose, put down their pass-times, and slowly shuffled into reviewing lines on the long side of the room to the right.

  The four of us intentionally lagged our steps so that we were just behind Farleigh and the guard. Arghen nodded first meaningfully at Jason and me and then at our escorts. The guard and Farleigh heard the shing of our blades as we drew them out, but they turned too late. The Surfacers standing in review stared as the two Under-elves’ lifeless bodies dropped to the floor, and I felt regret and sorrow for what I’d had to do. Remembering what Caelestis had said, I held the vision of them alive to my heart, apologized to them profusely, and then let them go. I opened my eyes to see the Surfacers turn frightened looks on us.

  “Wha-what’s going on here?” stammered a Faun who was closest to us but looked like he wished he wasn’t.

  Emalai took her lead from Arghen and stepped up to speak. “Fellow Surfacers, some of you know me, so please believe me when I say that we are here to help you rescue yourselves. These three Under-elves,” she waved at Arghen, Jason, and me, “are not really Under-elves but are simply disguised as such. They are actually Champions of the Goddesses Caelestis and Quiris! We cannot promise that you will reach the surface alive if you escape with us, but we can promise you at least the chance if you come with us now!”

  I smiled inwardly. Clever of
her to make Arghen out to be in disguise, too, and to lump Jason in as a Champion. We could always explain things later when we were safe on the surface. Jason took advantage of her speaking to relieve Farleigh’s corpse of the key and of what was probably a personal money pouch.

  I cleared my throat and added, “Hey, uh, but we’re not forcing you to come with us, or anything. If you want to stay here and not take the risk in coming with us, that’s okay, too.”

  “We would have to fight our way out,” said an Ogre slowly.

  A grin grew on his face at the thought, and murmurs of approval rose in support of his words.

  “They will come after us, and kill us! Remember what happened to Urick, and Chandrel, and to all those others who were made into example!” cried a delicate looking, butterfly-winged being, trying to override the growing positive sentiment.

  What Emalai said about Re-conditioning came back to me then. I guessed that this Surfacer must have been one of the ones who had been completely broken, and I pitied her. But worryingly, other murmurs grew that agreed with Butterfly-wings. I looked in surprise as Arghen dove for the open doorway behind us, but Jason clapped his hands sharply for attention and I turned to look at him.

  “Hey! Hey! Like we said, we aren’t twisting your arms here. So if you are too scared, don’t come. We will ask you, though, to not mention us to any Under-elf. You may not want to risk rescue, but don’t jeopardize it for everybody else. The rest of you, follow us,” he said.

  Butterfly-wing let out a shriek and pointed behind us just as our ears registered the sound of metal clashing against metal. Jason and I turned quickly around to see Arghen in close combat with the other Exchange guard.

  CHAPTER 22

  Drat—I’d forgotten about the other guard! Arghen must have heard him coming, which was why he’d dived for the doorway. Jason and I ran to help him, but, as usual, by the time we crossed the short distance to the doorway from where we’d stood, it was over.

  “I am with you!” a Surface-elf male with blond hair and green eyes said loudly with a fierce grin for Arghen’s triumph.

  “Great,” I said to him over my shoulder. “Can you show us where the magical items are kept? We’re going to take them with us, too. Hopefully some of the things in there will give us an edge on getting out of here.”

  That caught the attention of everyone in the Exchange. “You are taking them with you?” an unknown voice from the crowd asked.

  “As many as we can. And if each of you who comes with us can use what you choose to help us all escape, if necessary, the better,” Arghen said, “but you must decide quickly.”

  All in all sixteen chose to risk it and come with us, which was less than half of the amount of beings in the Exchange. Not surprisingly, Butterfly-wings was one who decided to stay. Of those who decided to come, two were Ogres, one was a Goblin, four were Surface-elves, two were Dwarves, one was an Ataque, two were Fauns, two were Halflings, and one was a Gnome. The blond Surface-elf, who was named Levahn, led us back into the foyer and down the corridor on the other side of the marble desk. He stopped at the end of the corridor before a stone door identical to the one that imprisoned the Surfacers.

  “This is where the magical items are kept. It is locked, but the key that this one took from Farleigh unlocks,” he said, waving a hand at Jason.

  “Convenient,” Jason replied.

  Jason used the key, and the stone door rolled away like its brother had. The room beyond was not as large as the one the Surfacers lived in, but it was big enough, and was filled with tables, shelves, and plinths all arranged in rows like a display in any museum back in New York City—like Jason’s items had been displayed beside him. I shoved that disturbing thought away and concentrated on looking around. On the tables were a variety of items ranging from very small to rather large, each with an accompanying card. Magical torches dimly lit the room to the level the lichen usually provided. Tellingly, there was no air moss in here, which made sense. Why waste fresh air on a place that didn’t need it on a regular basis?

  “Everybody inside, and quickly take those items that you’ve worked with before and keep them in easy reach. Everything else will be packed away and brought with us—if possible,” I commanded, eyeing a couple of the larger pieces with some dubiousness.

  Stepping across the threshold we found that there was enough magical energy in here that it was like touching a Van der Graff static electricity generator. Everyone’s hair rose slowly like we were in a static field as we fanned out among the tables and shelves.

  “Here, Jason,” Arghen said as he handed Jason a thick silver ring. “Since you were able to benefit from the vial that Caelestis gave to Lise for you, I wonder if you can now use magic?”

  “What should I do with it?” Jason asked dubiously, turning it over and over in his bronzed hands.

  “This ring creates a stream of frost, if the card accompanying it is correct. Put it on, point your fist at the wall, concentrate, and say the command word inscribed on the inside.”

  Jason, after peering at the word written on the inside, did as Arghen instructed. He tried saying ‘gliddet’ a couple of different ways and was eventually rewarded with a spray of frost that hit the nearest wall. He was so surprised that he lost concentration, which made the ring stop working.

  I jumped up and down, clapping and squealing with glee. “Jason! You can use magic now! That’s so wonderful!”

  This drew the attention of everybody else in the room. I couldn’t help but notice some of the ex-Exchangers looking like they were torn for wanting to laugh at my squeals and showing respect for my being a Champion who was rescuing them. I blushed and busied myself inventorying.

  “But Jason doesn’t worship anyone, and you said worship, or belief in the Divine was necessary,” I whispered to Arghen out of Jason’s hearing, once everyone had gone back to work. “So how can Jason make it work?”

  Arghen said with a small smile, “He must be beginning to unconsciously worship Someone somewhere very deep inside himself—so deep that even he does not realize it yet.”

  I blinked, and I wondered whether that would be Quiris or Caelestis.

  The room emptied relatively quickly, with the Ogres taking the larger items while everyone else concentrated on the smaller ones. When done I ordered everyone back to the foyer to lay out plans because I felt standing around in the Van der Graff room would be uncomfortable. Except that, when we reached the foyer, the static electricity feeling didn’t really stop, though it did get less. Only then did I realize it wouldn’t go completely away because we’d brought the Van der Graff sensation generating items with us.

  “Lise, we will have to try and sneak across the breeding lands, which just might be possible if we take advantage of the pens,” Arghen said to me and everybody. “But then we will have the Martial Ring to cross. Realistically, I am afraid that not all of us will be able to escape.”

  Levahn spoke up. “What if you were to pretend that you were merchants instead of military?’ he asked. “And that you were taking us to Kelsavax for trading purposes?”

  “Is Kelsavax the closest Under-elven city to here?” Arghen asked, probably more for Jason’s and my benefit than anything else.

  Receiving confirmation, Arghen looked at Jason, Emalai, and me.

  “It could work,” he said, “but we would need materials with which to pull it off.”

  “The breeding lands,” Emalai said promptly. “I’d bet that if we took some of them with us, they’d give us their households to make it look good.”

  He bowed. “Will you become an Under-elf now, my Lady?”

  I blinked, because I swore I heard the capital ‘L’ he used in ‘Lady’ when talking to her, instead of the usual lower-case ‘l’ when talking with Auraus.

  Emalai blushed. “I do not think that you have enough of your disguise makers to cover my hair, Champion.”

  There was an odd note in her voice as she said ‘Champion’, although I couldn’t put my fi
nger on it.

  “Call me Arghen, Emalai,” he replied softly.

  A smile crept onto my face. ‘My Lady’? That means something more than just manners over here. Did he really just say that to her?

  Was Arghen falling for Emalai? I looked at Jason, and saw that he had his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline at the two of them.

  I hated to break in, but I said, “No, Emalai, we probably don’t have enough for your hair—it’s sort of long.” Turning to the Surfacers, I said, “We have enough disguise makers left for one Surface-elf with short-ish hair to become an Under-elf. Any takers?”

  I wasn’t surprised when Levahn stepped up. In short order we made him into a respectable Under-elf and dressed him in clothing and armor scavenged from Farleigh and the slain Exchange guards.

  “It will have to do,” Arghen said, looking Levahn over with a critical eye. “Perhaps those whom we will meet won’t be looking for proper attire from a merchant.”

  “What about the static electricity from the magic items?” Jason asked, running his hands up and down his arms.

  “The what?” Arghen asked, a by-now familiar expression of confusion on his face when we used terms he didn’t know.

  “The hair-standing-up thing, Arghen,” I broke in. “And, actually, Jason, that’s going away. Look around you.”

  Jason did, and he saw that the static electricity feeling had lessened enough that everybody’s hair was lying almost flat again.

  “Huh,” Jason said. “I hadn’t noticed. So magic energy is something like real static electricity. When the situation changes, it gets discharged.”

  “Not discharged,” corrected Emalai. “The magic is still there—it’s just now spread out to fill this room instead of that smaller one. Though this is the first time that I have been in the presence of so many magical items, I have experienced this same phenomena in smaller ways in the past.”