* * *
Bramly stared up as the first drops fell. It made a dull plink-ing sound as it bounced off of the pots and pans attached to the saddlebags on his donkey. He had watched the clouds go from white to slate gray over the last few hours and could feel his pursuers drawing ever-closer.
Instead of getting drenched, Bramly and his donkey stayed dry even as the rain grew heavier. None of the trees turned over their leaves to greedily suck up the water, as none of the trees had leaves.
Instead, they were filled with needles akin to that of a coniferous tree, though they were nearly three feet long and seemed to gravitate toward him as he walked past.
Bramly waved his hand at them, and they stopped following his movements though everything seemed to grow still after his sorcery. It was almost as if they was following his passage even more intently, but with the intention of understanding rather than feeding.
The Blood Trees grew motionless. He had sensed them for the past two days but had not succeeded in turning them from following him. Bramly sighed and dismounted, knowing this thing would not leave him be. “I know you are there Spooks. Show yourself. I would know why you insist on pursuing me even after I had deterred you.”
He felt a shiver crawl down his spine as he felt an enchantment lift and saw both of the Ja-lia. “Bramly, Hiberon requires your presence. He wishes that you would come of your own will, but my comrade and I are allowed to use force short of torture and death to… persuade you,” it whispered with a malicious grin spreading across its Cheshire's mouth.
Its globular body stiffened as it raised its arm and a shadowy sword appeared in both of their hands.
“I have no wish to fight someone like you,” Bramly said, his voice a whisper in the rain. “You are one of the few creatures in all of Undermire that I am unsure of defeating. If you truly wish to stand in my path, though, I will have to combat you.
They approached, wary of the prey who had spoken so calmly when so many others had faltered in their presence. He raised two fingers in a wave and he, along with his donkey, shrunk into a pair of squirrels and started scampering toward the wood. Before they had made it more than five feet, the enchantment failed and they returned to normal.
He spat on the ground. “I truly detest anti-magic. It always leaves a bad taste in my mouth afterward. It is quite like copper,” he said conversationally as he swept one hand in a great arc and great bursts of flames shot toward the shadows.
The flames disappeared upon hitting their mist-like bodies.
The one who had spoken now laughed. “Give up, old man. There isn't a spell that has been created that can harm us.”
“I bet I’ve made a few spells you've never heard of. And I’m not that old, I’m three thousand forty-six years old. That is relatively young for a sorcerer, thank you very much.” The air filled with the smells of sulfurous burning and fresh ozone, an odd mixture in even the best of circumstances.
The heat rose and a bead of sweat appeared on his face, but he saw it was also affecting the Ja-lia. They started shimmering under the growing heat and light. As it reached the point that Bramly couldn't hold it anymore he let lose a great wave of light and heat toward the unsteady Ja-lia.
With a crack, a bolt of lightning pierced the ground between the two of them, and lava poured from the ground. As it did so, Bramly slumped forward onto his knees and everything went black.
Six
A Heated Conversation
“Dragons. Unbelievably beautiful. Their beauty is only overshadowed by the certain death to follow.”
- Dragonknight Ymir
Charley woke up the next morning, a cold sweat coming to his face. He tried to think what he had dreamed, but could only remember darkness so intense that not even his hand had been visible in front of his face, and a sense of falling so overwhelming his muscles had felt like they were moving through water.
He brushed it off and rose out of bed. His sniffer kicked in. Scooting into the living room, he peered around the corner. Waffles. He saw his mother had her back turned, so he made for the stack of them. Ninja mode: activated.
He had just put out his hand to grab the top one when she turned and glared. “You know the rule, mister. Not everything is cooked,” she said, shaking the spatula at him.
Retreat!
As he slid back around the corner he saw his dad shaking his head. “It never works, Charley. Why do you even try?”
“Because my stomach controls me,” Charley said, snapping to salute.
His dad chuckled but then his face grew serious again. “Charley, we need to talk about yesterday.”
Instantly, everything fell back into place. His stomach fell as he thought about it. “So it's all real? I have to fulfill a prophecy?” he asked, already dreading the answer he knew he would receive.
“Yeah… I wish there was another way, but there just isn't.”
“If I don't go, he'll come one day, and we would all be dead.”
Charley slumped. If I don't go, I die. If I do go, I'll probably die. Great– Doesn't really give me much of an option, does it?
He braced himself. “I'll go.”
“You'll be a hero one day,” his dad said with a sad smile on his face.
Charley shook his head. “I don't want to be a hero. I just want to be me. Normal.”
His mom walked around the corner, carrying a plate of waffles, another of bacon and a warm bottle of syrup. “How about right now you worry about chowing down on this.”
Charley's stomach growled, and the beast within took over, his self-doubts put aside for the moment.
Charley slid out of his parent's car the next day. His mom climbed out and pulled him into a hug, but not before he saw the tears that streaked down her face. His father stood back and looked at him with concern.
“I promise, mom, you'll see me again.” She broke into fresh tears and released him.
She smiled wanly. “I know we will. Don't worry about us. Just… be safe.”
She stepped back as his dad walked in what seemed a funeral march to him and pulled him into a bear hug, squeezing the air out of him. “Of course, he won't be safe. But, he's going to survive. He's an Ashe, after all,” he said as he set Charley down.
“That's the spirit,” Charley heard from behind him. He turned and saw Renwick standing in the doorway.
Charley felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back and saw his father smiling. “Charley, you have to live. I don't have much to give you besides some advice. Firstly, everything that Rafe teaches you, you have to perfect it. I see now that your mother and I should have been teaching you these things.
“Second, don't push yourself too hard. Many good people, powerful or not, have failed because they cracked under a tough situation. Lastly, do not trust anyone. Even those that seem to be on your side. Well, Riley, Abe and Nina are safe to trust.”
“What about Rafe and Renwick? Not that I would trust Rafe anyways.”
He looked hesitant. “No… not even them. They both have agendas and neither are above using you for their own gain, though Rafe is much more trustworthy than Renwick, as much as I do not like Rafe. Sorcerers are funny and will do the oddest things. Riley will be like that one day.”
Another car pulled up beside the store and Riley and Abe both appeared from the back seat, dressed in similar clothing. Riley was lugging a large bag on his back. Charley sent him a quizzical look.
Abe answered for him. “He's decided to bring along books. Books! Of all things that he could bring,” Abe said, rolling his eyes.
Riley looked at him appalled, his eyes widening. “Why shouldn't I bring books?”
“Isn't it obvious?” Abe asked, looking to Charley for support, who shrugged. “It's because they'll weigh you down.”
Their parents stepped in at that point. Charley's father tapped him on the shoulder and pulled him over to the side again. “I said I didn't have much besides advice, but I do have this.” He handing Charley a small leather pouch th
at his dad had kept in his study.
“This is all that remains of your birthright had you been raised on Undermire. Don't open it now. You'll know the time. For now, we should probably join everyone.”
Nina was already sitting with her parents around the same table that they had been at days before. Renwick was busy behind the counter with his back turned to them and Rafe was nowhere to be seen.
As Riley and Abe entered the store Renwick turned to face them. “Good, now all we need is for Rafe to arrive. As he already knows the instructions for entering Undermire I will spend this time explaining how it is done.
“The entrance is here in my shop on the second floor. Once we are past the– er– security, we will be at the entrance to the Flow. Any directions I or Rafe give you, you must follow or you could die. I want you to know ahead of time that the process is not fool-proof even for me,” he paused to allow it to sink in.
“Once we enter the Flow, you must not leave my side no matter what you hear or see. There are– things– that live there. Once, before the Flow was sealed, they weren't so prone to tricking travelers.”
“That would be your fault,” Rafe's voice rasped from the doorway. Charley jumped at the sound of his voice.
Renwick sighed. “Yes, I suppose that would be my fault. Times were different then. Bramly and I faced other problems in that time. We didn't have as many options as I can see now. Hindsight is funny like that, is it not?”
Rafe barked out a laugh. “Well, let us hope that the same will not be true for these young ones.”
Charley's father laughed. “On that we can agree.”
Renwick dug a pocket watch out and looked at the time. “I must apologize for cutting this short, but there is so little time left. It has taken much calculating to pinpoint this window of opportunity on such a short notice.”
Charley's father pulled him in for one more hug. “Become the hero you must be,” he whispered into his ear and released him.
Renwick turned back. “Oh, will one of you mind turning out the lights and locking the door behind you? I do so hate intruders, especially with the nasty surprises that they might find for themselves.”
At the top of the stairs, which to Charley seemed to stretch on for much longer and higher than the top of the building, Renwick stood with his back turned to them at a door. They heard a clinking sound and the door unlocked with a sigh.
“I suppose you have a multidimensional spell on the entire building? Rafe asked.
Renwick nodded. “That is correct. Now, if you will all kindly keep quiet as we pass through this next room. You will be safe as long as you do not say anything. It would attack even me.”
“Then wouldn't anyone be able to sneak through here?” Abe asked.
Renwick turned to him with a bemused stare. “No. First they would need the correct key and, more importantly, they would need courage or foolishness to remain silent. All of those things for this particular situation are only available to someone from Undermire.”
“Then why wouldn't someone just find another entrance to the Undermire?”
“Yes, young sorcerer, there are other entrances. But none, I think, as safe to enter as Renwick's. Also, it is Undermire, not the Undermire. If anyone there heard you say that, they would know you hadn't been raised there.”
Renwick harrumphed. “Please, be quiet. I know that we aren't in the room yet, but practice makes perfect as they say.
Charley didn't need the warning. The second he walked into the room, he felt no urge to yell. He felt no urge to do anything other than stand there.
Instead, he was completely petrified, like a rattlesnake staring down a mouse. Rafe, though, had to clamp his hand down on Nina's mouth when she almost screamed.
A large, horned and scaled creature lay wrapped around a pile of coins and jewelry. Charley dry swallowed after regaining control of his body. The temperature had risen several degrees. A dragon.
I feel like I'm going to melt. All Charley could see in his head was an image of himself turning into a large pile of goo.
How do you know you won't, young intruder? A voice boomed in his head.
Charley's head whipped around and saw that one of the eyes was fluttering. Leave this place, boy of the heart and fire. You are not ready to see the treasures I hold here.
Charley, feeling brave, asked, You're awake? Then why haven't you killed us all? Charley noticed Renwick motioned for them to follow him but kept one eye on the dragon.
As they made their way across the room, the door closed with a thud behind them. Charley jumped and looked over his shoulder at it for a moment. A ten-foot flame spurted out of the dragons nostril seconds later. He felt his backside warm up.
Who says I will not try? Charley felt a moment of humor before it faded just as quickly. Of course, I joke. I sense in you a kinship I have not felt in millennia, child of fire– though your flame has yet to bloom. One day, you will free me and I will be indebted to you.
For that to happen, you and yours must live. Go in peace, though I ask you tell not the wizard what I have said. He is not what he seems. Feeling no deceit from the dragon's thoughts, he promised not to.
The entire conversation happened in the few moments that it had taken to Charley and the others followed close behind him in a small pack. As they made it to the other side of the room Renwick pulled open the second door and motioned them through, keeping his eye on the dragon. They rushed past him into the room. Renwick followed and closed the door.
As he turned to them he smiled like a child on Christmas Day. “Well that was exciting, wasn't it?”
The only one to smile back was Abe, who looked bursting with happiness. Nina hit Abe in the arm. “Will you stop bouncing up and down? It's giving my neck whiplash just watching you.” Charley and Riley laughed.
Abe scoffed. “We just saw a real dragon, survived, and you don't think that was awesome? Something's obviously wrong with you, not me.”
Renwick spoke again. “I'm afraid I’m going to have to ask you all to change into more accommodating clothing for Undermire. I know you all came dressed with the best possible intentions, but you would all be too conspicuous,”
He paused to point in both directions. “The room to the left for the gentlemen and the room to the right for the young lady.”
Seven
The Road to Undermire
“Your future is like reading a book. It all depends on where you want to be swept off to.”
- Riley Ashe
A cavernous room stood before Charley. Lined wall to wall with clothes of every type in cubbies. Charley saw blood red clothing. He ran his fingers across the fabric and pulled back his hand and gasped.
His fingers still remember the pulsing even then. The blood pumping. The blood vessels bulging against the cottony fabric. Muscles and tendons surging against their sewn constraints.
“Oh, dear. You probably shouldn't have touched those.” Charley turned and saw a young man, a pair of mole-like eyes peering from behind crooked glasses.
“I must apologize. I tried to program the magic to match your needs– it appears I failed. Oh, dear.” With a snap of his fingers, some of the cubbies began to collapse into one another. As this happened, the room began to shrink.
“It's not real skin or blood, by the way, if that's what you want to know. It's magically produced fabric to hide one's identity.” Both Riley and Abe sent Charley looks.
The man clapped. “Ah, yes, introductions. My name is Aster, Renwick Mordecai's personal homunculus. I know who you three are. I have been tasked with finding you suitable clothing. Come, we have much to do.”
Without waiting to see if they would follow Aster took off down one of the aisles. Charley looked at them. “I guess we should follow.”
He led them down several of the darkly lit aisles, picking up a shirt or pair of pants as he went. “I must apologize for the lighting. A homunculus' eyes are not the best.” Aster soon had a large stack precariously balancing in hi
s arms, swaying from side to side.
Charley had the almost uncontrollable urge to push the stack over, but restrained the childish urge. They had gone down so many twists and turns Charley soon lost sense of where he was, which surprised Charley when then found themselves back at the entrance to the large room.
Aster turned to them and looked at them, appraising. And like a magician at his trade, he pulled pieces from the pile, now balanced on one arm. He began doling out the pieces with a flourish. “This one for you.” Or, “Why not that one for him?”
Charley stared down at the growing pile in his hands. He was happy to not see any red in any of their piles after the last incident. A shiver ran down his spine.
Aster speaking pulled him from the thought. “Behind you, you'll find the changing rooms.”
“There aren't any…” Riley trailed off as he turned and saw them.
Aster smirked. “You were saying? Well– I must be off.”
Charley found himself looking in the mirror, his mouth falling open. His normal printed-tees and pants were gone. He wore a thick leather vest on top of cloth clothing. The boots, made of some kind of weird, stretchy material, elevated him several inches.
I wonder what I'm supposed to do with my clothes…
He turned to grab them and saw that they were gone. Turning in a circle, he tried to spot them but couldn't see them in the cubicle. I guess that answers that question.
Charley opened the door and peered out. He caught Abe doing the same. “Your clothes disappear, too?” Abe asked.
“Yeah.”
They waited for Riley, but when he never appeared from his changing room they went back into the main room. For the first time, Charley noticed the door on the far side of the wall.
Riley and Rafe sat together, both of whom were dressed. “How did you-”
“Change so fast?” Riley asked. “I don't take forever, like you two.”
Rafe sat silently. Charley looked at him and noticed his armor. It was death black and metal studs poked out of the one shoulder that was visible. The other was covered by a bat's wing cape, that draped down his arm. Rafe pulled aside the cape and showed Charley what was at his side.
A pair of deadly, twin swords rested in sheaths, one above the other at his waist. Rafe smiled at the look on his face. “I told you, you'll want me protecting you.”
Nina then walked into the room and Charley's eyes were drawn to her. Mouth falling open, he stared at her. Her shirt and cargo jeans replaced by a black, knee-length dress. She crossed her arms over her stomach. “This was all they had,” she defended, face reddening.
Charley snapped back to himself. “You look– great,” Charley finished.
Her eyes narrowed and she held up a fist. “Don't mock me, Ashe.”
Renwick appeared at that moment, coming from the tree door, saving Charley. A greed field rolled into a wooded area further back. “Fabulous. All of you look very much the Mirian,” he said, glancing at them.
“Mirian?” Charley asked.
“It's what the collective of those who live in Undermire are called,” Rafe responded.
Renwick looked down at his wrist as if reading a watch. “It's time. We need to go now.” Renwick said, lead them into what appeared to be a garden that couldn't possible fit in the space it took up.
Renwick turned back to them. “You might want to grab a pack and a torch or two,” he said, pointing to a pile. Without another word, he turned and walked off down the path, not checking to make sure that they followed. After walking only a few dozen paces into the woods a door materialized in the middle of the path.
Renwick turned to Charley and motioned with his hand. “Would you do the honors, Charley?”
He stepped forward and grasped the handle. As he pulled it open a bright light flashed before disappearing into darkness. A total, palpable darkness that appeared to be gulping down the light spilling through from their side, like a man who had not seen water in a week.
They walked in total darkness except for the torches that each of them held. Holding a rope in the other, they followed Renwick in near silence.
“We must stay together in here. Even one moment of being apart, one wrong move, and you will never find your way out again,” Renwick had warned. “I will use my magic to help guide us, but those in between will still attempt to disrupt our progress. Ignore any voices you hear.” They each nodded their heads as Renwick looked at them.
Soon after arriving in the Flow, Charley started hearing sounds that felt like they were just out of reach and shook his head.
The sounds grew to a constant droning in his ears and the others seemed to start noticing the sounds themselves. It reminded him of summer when gnats and mosquitoes would buzz in his ears.
They all turned to each other and Abe commented, “Weird,” and shook his head.
“It helps to think about something else. I find reciting poetry or lyrics helps me. I could sing if you like,” Rafe responded.
Renwick looked back and smiled. “Yes, I think that would be perfect. They find music entrancing. It might appeal to them to be helpful. They might even turn on the lights for us.”
The four of them looked at each other skeptically at each other. Abe voiced their concern. “Rafe– no offense, but can you– um– sing?”
“You can be the judge of that,” he said with a barking laugh. Before another word could be said, he broke into song.
At first, it was low and crooning and barely audible above the white noise. As his voice grew in octaves and crescendo-ed the rasping left his voice.
It became a pure, clear sound that seemed to echo off of the darkness back at them. Charley couldn't understand a word of it, but it felt like he should. Almost like it was at the corner of his brain, poking at him with a five-foot stick.
Charley noticed that the tension had broken. As the white noise disappeared, the pathway became more striking. Renwick looked back at them and smiled. “Still think he can't sing?” he asked and then laughed.
The darkness lifted. Charley looked over to the left of the path and had a sudden sense of intense vertigo. Why does it have to be heights? There simply was no ground, but a swirling mass that continued down as far as he could see. He looked up and saw much of the same substance to both sides and upward.
Renwick spoke from the front, back still turned. “Oh, I should probably mention that you do not want to look down.”
Soon, Rafe ran out of breath. For a while, Charley noticed that the sounds had faded. Unfortunately, the whispering returned, but became more agitated and the sounds increased until the pressure on his head grew.
Rafe looked apologetic. The sound became a cacophony on Charley's ears as they progressed forward. He felt the darkness reach out and brush against him. Come to us, Destined One. We can show you the future and so much more. Come to us…
He felt woozy and his legs started wobbling under him as the darkness and voices closed in on him. He concentrated his eyes on the lantern in his hand.
As he watched the flame, he stumbled on along behind Riley. Even as he tried to focus his eyes by squinting, his sight fell behind a black haze.
Abe spoke up from behind him. “Help! Charley is falling!” Charley heard it through what felt like cotton in his ears. All he felt was a sense of lightness as he drifted in both body and mind.
Peace. He felt peace as he floated and listened to them whisper. Why should you have to worry about saving a world that isn't your own? It isn't your problem. You're no hero, they whispered to him.
He felt a smile come over his face as he floated. All the stress and worries over the past couple of days melted from him.
Stay with us and see how carefree you can be. We will never disappoint you. We want you to be happy and safe. Don't you want that too? More of them whispered to him. He sensed joy coming from them as his own joy was broadcasted to them.
You can't save a world, let alone two. Stay here with us. We will keep you safe for all eternity
. Your quest is impossible… always surrounded by powerful enemies. Stay here, the voices echoed again and again until that was all he heard. They seemed to express his own concerns about who he was.
Even as he felt the joy an arm wrap around his mid-section and he was grounded. His sight cleared, the inky black disappearing, and he looked up into Riley's face. He looked down at him, worry etched onto his wooden face. “Are you okay, Charley?”
A boiling heat fill his body and he felt for a moment that he might explode in anger. “Why! Why did you come for me?” Riley looked at him with confusion on his face. “Are you crazy? I just saved you.”
Charley snarled. “Who said I wanted to be saved?” “You're not making any sense. Come on, I'll take you
back to everyone. Flying makes me nervous,” Riley said, laughing. Even as he did so, the smile never fully reached his eyes as he continued to watch Charley for any more outbursts.
Charley, catching what he had said, looked down and saw nothing but blackness wrapping around what appeared to be a sphere. He pulled at Riley's arm, groping with his fingers. “Put me down, Riley!” he screamed at Riley.
Riley slapped at his hand. “Seriously, Charley, settle down or we're both going to fall. I'm just as nervous as you. I can only keep us out of it as long as I can concentrate, because I have no idea how I'm doing this.”
Charley continued to weakly hold onto Riley, but he stopped pulling at his hands. They continued to break through the mist-like blackness. Realizing how he had been acting he tried to calm down.
“How long was I out there?”
Riley looked down into his face and frowned. “I don't know. Ten minutes? Fifteen? I'm not sure.”
“It felt so much longer.” A shiver ran down Charley's spine and then they both lapsed into silence.
“We're coming up on them,” Riley said after a few minutes.
Sure enough, Charley saw the lights come into sight along with their faces. At the angle the light fell on his face, Renwick looked to have a skeletal frown. As they descended it faded, but the image stuck in Charley's mind. Nina and Abe ran up to hug both of them tightly before retreating a step and grinning.
Relief filled their faces as they saw Riley holding Charley up. “You actually found him,” Renwick shouted with what sounded like disbelief. “How?”
Riley released Charley and then shrugged. As he stepped away from Charley the sphere split in two and surrounded both him and Riley separately. “Honestly, I don't know. I just had a feeling, so I jumped.”
Rafe smiled and turned to Renwick. “He's a Traveler. It's the only thing that explains it.”
At first, Renwick's mouth fell open but then it looked as if he was starting to contemplate it. “A Traveler… Maybe so… Riley,” he said, “point to Talas.”
Riley looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Just see if you can.”
Riley shrugged and his face went slack as his hand pointed at Rafe. Renwick smiled, “Well then. Now point to The Grimoire Hold.” Once again, Riley's face fell slack as he pointed in direction off to the left of Rafe.
“I think you're right,” Renwick said. “Now is the real test.”
Rafe looked at him, his concern clear on his face. “Are you sure?”
He nodded back. “I don't know if Charley can survive the entire trip. We have to see if Riley has Awakened. The recognition of location is the precursor to the power, the actual traveling is another thing entirely.” He turned back to Riley. “Riley, I need you to concentrate.”
Riley once more looked at him confused, and Charley felt even more confused. “Riley, can you see anything that looks like a doorway? Something that glimmers in the corner of your eye, perhaps?”
Charley frowned. What are they talking about? A glimmer? Apparently, Riley knew what Renwick was talking about, because he then nodded. “Good, now here is the tricky part... Don't look directly at it. It will disappear. Reach out your hand and pull on the handle.” Riley nodded again. He reached out to what appeared to be thin air and grasped at it.
Renwick became excited. “Now this is the most important thing to remember. You have to think about the destination. I want you to think about the word Talas.”
A white glow poured from a slice of thin air as Riley pulled it open. Charley put his hand up to cover his eyes, but was still blinded by the intense light.
Riley pulled the door open and it became fully visible. Falling to his knees, Riley started panting hard. Charley rushed to his side with Abe and Nina close behind.
“That is just the pull on his energy,” Renwick said, calming them.
“He not only found you, Charley but also conjured a ward strong enough to hold off the darkness. Then he created a pathway, something that hasn't ever been done in the Flow.” He placed his hand on Riley's shoulder and a glow appeared under it.
“There is some good to this, though,” Rafe said. Charley looked at him over his shoulder. Rafe continued, pointing at the door. “Through that door is Undermire.”
Over the hill, and through the door to certain death we go… Charley thought to himself. Looking at the other three, he could tell they were thinking something similar.
Riley stood up.
“Are you ready?” Renwick asked him. He nodded back at him, his face pale in the bright light shining on all of them.
Renwick grinned. “Welcome… to Undermire.”
Eight
The Value of a Soul
“From the smallest mouse to the largest Ancient, I think we are all of equal importance.”
- Rysander
The wagon jostled as the front wheel rolled over a rut. His head bashed against the bars and blood started seeping down his forehead into his mouth and beard. He sat up and looked around through crusty eyes, opened at a squint, and spit out the blood. He was surrounded by rocky ground and granite slabs stabbing out of the top of the soil like great parapets.
He heard a shuffling from the front and then a crunch as someone jumped down from the bench to walk beside the wagon. Bramly followed the man with his eyes, not turning to fully look at him. He couldn't make out the face, but the hair looked stringy and unkempt and his shirt and trousers looked greasy. Though I suppose even he looks better than me at the moment, Bramly conceded.
The man started rapping on the side of the bars with a cudgel, “He's awake Jorge. What do I do?” he asked with a thick slur, pronouncing Jorge's name with a hard g.
A whisper of a voice sounded from the bench. “Nothing, Dudley. He can't go anywhere. Just leave the wretch alone. Where he's going is bad enough.”
The man grunted. “Suppose you're right. I wouldn't want to be the one going to Redpon,” he said, turning to Bramly. “Is nothing personal. Just business.”
Bramly closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. Slavers. Good. This I can handle. He opened his eyes and looked over at the man still walking beside him. “I demand in the name of Bramly Mordecai that you release me and give me good lodging on my way to Morness.
Dudley looked at him incredulously and then shouted to Jorge. “Hey, the slave is saying he knows Bramly. What do I do about that?”
The same whisper answered. “If he truly knows Bramly then ask him if he wouldn't mind showing the mark. Then we can talk about letting him go.”
Dudley turned to repeat what was said, but Bramly cut him off. “Yes, I heard him. No need to repeat everything,” he said waspishly as he pulled up his sleeve and showed him his inner wrist. A small flame burned within his skin. The crackling flames were ringed by a set of runes unintelligible to anyone of the age.
“Jorge, he really does know Bramly.”
Bramly closed his eyes and sighed. “You dolt! I am Bramly. Now, stop this wagon so I may get out.”
The wagon pulled to a stop and Dudley walked to the back of the bars and pulled out a large set of keys and pushed a large one into the padlock. With a snick, it stuck in place and wouldn't turn. As Dudley tried to pull it out a la
rge crack could be heard from within the padlock as the head of the key broke off. Dudley stared at it dumbly.
A second man appeared from the front of the wagon. “How many times have I told you to not use that key in the padlock? The silver key… Nephew, if I didn't owe your mother as I do, I never would have taken you as my apprentice.”
The neatly bearded man, Jorge he assumed, turned his gaze to Bramly. “I'm sorry Lord Mordecai. If I had known it was you I would never have thought to try to sell you as a slave,” he whispered as he bowed at the waist.
He ran to help Dudley after returning upright. He grabbed the stump of the key and held it against the mouth of the padlock and slid his hand over it and then pulled the reattached key from the padlock. The motion caught Bramly's attention, as a tingle ran down his spine.
As soon as Bramly was free of the wagon he looked at Jorge from the corner of his eyes. “You can perform sorcery? Are you proficient in healing sorcery?” he asked, pointing to his head that had scabbed over, but still oozed blood.
“I am afraid that the limits of my magic lie in small cuts. Not something nearly so large as that. My talent lies in metallurgy,” he said, shaking his head.
Bramly shrugged his shoulders. “It was a thought. Though, I must ask, how did you find me?” He tapped his forehead and the bleeding stopped and then the cut started shrinking until a small scar remained. The crust of blood flaked off.
“Come sit on the bench and we can talk as we ride to… Morness, yes?”
Bramly nodded his head and followed him to the front of the wagon as Dudley re-closed the barred door. After they had climbed onto the bench Jorge told Bramly how he had found him passed out on the side of the rode in Needle Forest and everything scorched for a quarter mile around except where he lay.
“I will, of course, repay you for the food and lodging that you provide.”
“That will not be necessary. I feel that I must make recompense for what I have done.”
“Would you do the same for anyone you sold into slavery?”
Jorge looked at the grain of the wood in his wagon. “You were to be the first and only. I felt guilty even before knowing you were one of the Grand Sorcerers.”
“Would it have made you feel better if it hadn't been a Grand Sorcerer? I should think that it would be a normal denizen that would make me feel worse. At least a sorcerer has a chance to be freed if they are powerful enough and they have the right connections at the Tower.”
“You don't understand…”
Bramly looked at him sharply. “Then explain.”
“My child was taken to His palace. They told me that it was an honor, but if I truly wanted her back… I would have to trade a soul for a soul and we would be free from their Choosing in the future. I agreed to bring one and they bound me to my word.”
“I see. You are luck that you found me,” he said as he made a clawing motion at the grass below. A blade of grass shriveled up and turned black as a white speck appeared in Bramly's hand. “Just as you were bound, so were they. Life magic is indiscriminate. It binds both parties to their word.”
Jorge looked at him and tilted his head to the side as a tear slid down his cheek. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if they weren't specific on what kind of soul, or even if it had to have a vessel, then this will do,” he said as he placed the speck in a cracked bottle drawn from within his tunic. He corked it and held it out to Jorge. “I have one condition to giving this to you.”
“A- anything you want.”
“Oh, no need to make it that extravagant. I can think of some things you would never be able to accomplish. I just wish to know if you thought to bring Halide, my donkey?”
Jorge whistled for Dudley. He lumbered up to them, “Yes, Jorge?”
“See to it that his donkey is taken care of. Rejoice nephew! Soon enough you will have your cousin back!” he shouted into the air. Dudley's face lit up in a smile for the first time since Bramly had seen him.
Nine
Right, Wrong, and Donkey Farts
“Of all the smells in the world, I find donkeys singularly repulsive.”
- Unknown Barghest
Charley stepped out onto a patch of browning grass. He felt a coldness settle on his shoulders, like someone had placed ice down his back. A light layer of frost covered the ground and spread in every direction as far as Charley could see.
“I believe each of you will find a cloak in your bags to keep you warm. Unfortunately, while Earth is in early Summer, Undermire is in late Fall,” Rafe said, catching sight of their shivering forms.
Laughing, Renwick pointed to something behind them. Charley turned and saw a wall in front of them, stretching so high that Charley had to crane his neck to see the top. Rafe barked a laugh when Abe asked how they were supposed to get through the giant doors. “I'm not sure you want to go into that particular part of the city.”
“Why not?” Nina asked.
“This side is Rat Nest, the den of all the foulest taverns, gambling halls and– other things.”
Rafe looked toward the left end of the wall. “That way leads to Gold Dent, home of the merchant and artisan guilds. It is also the largest marketplace in all of Undermire.”
Charley looked around and saw a road off in the distance leading around the left side of the wall, away from where they were. “Then I guess we go there?”
Renwick nodded. “Yes. You should be within the city by midday. I wish you luck.”
Rafe turned to him. “I knew you were going to leave us, but this soon?”
Renwick sighed. “I am afraid so. I have some… matters to attend to elsewhere. Don't worry, Rafe will be here to help you,” he added as he turned to the four children. “I do, however, have some information for you. When we went to Earth, I left my web of spies and informants intact. We left in such a hurry that much of the information we lacked then is now available to us. I know where you need to go to find out about the prophecy.”
“So where do we have to go?” Riley asked.
“The Academy, the original home of The Children. I have an informant there that sends me messages through the Flow on occasion. He informed me that he might know where to find the next portion of the prophecy.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “So what you're saying is that you aren't sure whether or not if it even exists, and that even if it does exist we have to go find it without any help? Oh yeah, don't forget the fact that we could die at any time.”
“I am afraid that is the nature of the game. Undermire is not like Earth. We do not have the luxury to look online or have phones at our fingertips. We have to search for the information, and sometimes that can be hard, especially when so many want to control that information.”
“I don't like it.”
Renwick scowled at her. “I do not care if you like it. Some things just are the way that they are. You can not fix everything so that it smells of roses. Some things are hard. Some things can kill you. And yes, some things will try to do just that.” Nina looked taken back.
“I am just trying to give you the best chance to success. If you do not like it, well– it will be your funeral. I do not need you. I need him,” he said, pointing to Charley. Charley backed up a step.
Rafe stepped toward Renwick. “Renwick, enough! You are scaring her even more than she already is. They're just children, you can not forget that.” Charley moved to Nina's side.
Renwick sighed. “We do not have time for them to be children anymore. I gave that to their parents twelve years ago when I promised I would not force them to be trained. That was a soft mistake– one that you will have to rectify in my stead.”
Charley saw Renwick in a new light. He doesn't care about us. He cares about how he can use us.
“Not right now, and not all at once. You know as well as I do that we have time to train them properly, not force them into their roles too soon.”
Renwick stood with his head bowed for a moment, the anger fading from his fa
ce. He looked up at Rafe. “You are right.” He turned to the four of them. “I am sorry for how I acted. That really just shows you how unfit I am for the job of training.”
He turned to leave and shuffled a few steps away, his bag thrown over his shoulder. Without warning, he morphed into a fox and ran off into the prairie. Charley shaded his eyes and caught a final glimpse of the red and white tail disappearing into the forest moments later.
Well, that was rather anti-climactic, was it not? Someone asked in amusement.
He looked around and saw none of them were talking. Charley felt a moment of shock before realizing that none of the others had said it to him. He thought to himself, Who are you?
Who am I? You want to know who I am without even knowing yourself? Youth are always the same: asking for information before they have earned it, and even worse… expecting it without consequence.
What do you mean?
He felt more amusement. Exactly what I mean. Right now I would be more worried on what Master Fithen has to say than to what I mean.
With surprise Charley looked at Rafe and realized that he was talking directly to him. “What did you say?”
Rafe looked at him, searching his face. “I said we had better move out if we want to make our appointment before it shuts for the day.”
“Oh. Right. Who are we meeting exactly?”
“An old friend of mine, now lets go. We're wasting time just standing here.”