Chapter 2 A Gift #2
To everyone, Declan clarified. Aquilan is clearly worried that Darcassan going there–
And stealing! Don’t forget the stealing part! He doesn’t just intend to sightsee, the voice reminded him.
Borrowing things that the Night King just left behind will cause problems between the Aravae and Kindreth, Declan pointed out. Do you think that’s true?
Well, how would you deal with a thief who broke into your home and took your most precious things? The voice wheedled.
Precious? He left them behind for who knows how long. So clearly, he’s not using them, Declan pointed out.
They’re his, the voice’s tone became hard and dark. No one has the right to take them without permission. Do they?
I hardly think the Night King is around to ask, Declan continued. They shouldn’t be left to rot when people are in need.
Oh, you say that now, but imagine if Darcassan took Krith from you. Would you still feel the same? The voice pressed.
A possessive stab went through Declan and he found himself pressing a hand over the tattoo of the knife. He couldn’t take it. It’s a part of me.
Everything in Illithor is a part of the Night King just the same as Krith is a part of you, the voice told him. Keep that in mind.
The others were starting to organize themselves as to who would lead, who would follow and who would bring up the rear. Finley, of course, was to stay in the middle with Helgrom, Snaglak and Glom guarding their back.
“We’ll not let anything slip up on us.” Helgrom had a wicked looking two-handed hammer with him that he passed from hand to hand as if it weighed nothing at all. The metal had a dark cast to it and there was elaborate leather stitching around the haft.
Glom bit the air.
Snaglak, who had a simple club that was run through with spikes, chuckled. “Will have lots of fangs to turn into the Separatists after tonight.”
“I’ve no doubt you’ll handle them all,” Finley said with a smile. “I feel quite safe with everyone taking care of me.”
“I’ll take point,” Declan announced without waiting to see if anyone objected.
He was certain that the elves likely would. He understood why. They thought him quite as helpless as other humans. Except he wasn’t helpless and he wasn’t human. He had accepted these things now.
He walked silently through the broken metal doors that were practically twisted out of joint into the silent interior of the Thompson Center.
Declan remembered being impressed with the inside of this building once upon a time.
The sheer vastness of the space was amazing.
One could look up from the bottom all the way to the top.
Offices and other businesses ringed the outside of the building as Finley had said, but there was also a segment of windows that had allowed light to pour inside to add to the bright artificial lights that had lit up the space.
Now there were no electric lights and the afternoon was far advanced.
The interior was draped in a dusty twilight.
Vines crawled up the giant elevator banks that were exposed so that, in the past, people could ride up and down while seeing out. The red metal cross beams that had given the building its unique look were dull and looked like ancient blood where they weren’t obscured by more vines.
Declan silently crossed to the balcony railing that overlooked the food court that comprised the lowest level of the building.
It, too, was open to the air. The plastic tables and chairs were still there, never going to rot, but they were festooned with greenery and dust. Many of the seating areas looked to have been turned over as if a giant had walked through in a rage and upended tables and sent chairs flying.
Again, like the doors out of the building, Declan wondered if the humans had done this in a desperate attempt to get away from the killer shadows.
If he’d had any doubt that the Leviathan were still here, he was soon disabused of that notion for there were cleared pathways between the stairs up to the first floor and the food court where the plants were blackened and shriveled.
Drained of life. These paths led through arched hallways that went deeper underground.
“The Leviathan use this place regularly,” Declan whispered to Aquilan who had joined him. He pointed with Krith–Broken Fang, his mother’s kitchen knife–towards the desiccated plants. It had, of course, appeared in his hand unbidden.
Aquilan nodded. “And it looks like not just them. I see footmarks.”
It was Declan’s turn to nod. He saw a few faint footprints in the dust leading down into the depths. Elven boot prints. Darcassan had come this way. And not all that long ago as the Leviathan prints had left them untouched.
“Rhalyf, can you do the location spell, please?” Aquilan asked the other elf.
“Already on it,” Rhalyf stated.
His eyes glowed a hot red for a moment as he held the necklace that Elasha had given him in both hands. He caught Aquilan frowning slightly when he saw that color as if it shouldn’t have been. But it wasn’t suspicion of Rhalyf, Declan thought, but more concern for the other elf’s health.
There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s just the closer he feels he is getting to Illithor, the more the Kindreth is coming out, the voice whispered.
Do you know where Darcassan is? Declan demanded suddenly.
Not with me, the voice answered then added, Not yet anyways. Keep going down, Rahven. Your blood will lead you, too.
“This way,” Rhalyf said as he surged towards the stairs that led down to the food court.
They followed after him, making little more sound than the wind. Even Finley was stepping lightly. A glance back showed him that Finley’s shoes were glowing slightly.
Rhalyf put some kind of spell on him to make him as silent as us, Declan realized and felt a wave of gratefulness to the elf.
The Adiva that Rhalyf had given him was now the temperature of the air.
Neither cool nor warm as it no longer had to protect him from the Sun.
But he knew nothing but relief to feel it against the skin of his chest. There was a light hand on his shoulder as Aquilan wordlessly indicated several broken metal pipes near the end of the steps.
He nodded and carefully picked his way over them.
He half had an idea that Aquilan wanted to sweep him up and carry him over them bride-style.
But he needed no such help. Still the caring was there.
And Declan felt its warmth inside of him like a fire.
The Night King cannot blame Aquilan for anything that Darcassan does, Declan argued with the voice as they padded through the path that Leviathan had made into the Pedway.
You seem quite passionate about this, Rahven! The voice chuckled.
I don’t want… Here Declan chewed his inner cheek as they approached the darkened hallway of the entrance to the Pedway.
There was no light down here. Soon the grayish dusty illumination from the Thompson Center would fade.
He could see perfectly well, but Finley could not.
But he was pretty sure that Rhalyf had likely done something about that as well as his best friend walked nimbly behind them, avoiding all obstacles no matter how small.
What don’t you want? The voice prodded.
Aquilan doesn’t deserve any blame! Declan cried.
Yes, but he is the Sun King so he is responsible for all his people do, the voice sounded sympathetic but unimpressed.
He’s trying to stop Darcassan, Declan pointed out. Doesn’t that count for anything?
Of course, it does. But will it be enough? To disturb sacred Illithor after all this time–
The Leviathan are already doing that if they are running rifts out of it, Declan said firmly. Wouldn’t the Night King be glad if we eliminated them from his city?
Eliminated? Is that what you plan to do? Eliminate all the Leviathan there? The voice pressed, sounding interested. I thought you were just going to rescue poor Darcassan from his ambitions!
We are, but… Declan stopped because he suddenly felt a prickling of the hair on the back of his neck and on his arms.
He reached for both Aquilan and Rhalyf, grasping one shoulder each and pulling them back.
Both elves turned with quizzical looks on their faces at him.
But then they heard it. The dry, slithery sound of scales moving against one another.
Declan felt his heart seize then beat at twice the speed.
His mouth flooded with the bitter taste of adrenaline.
A fight was coming! But more than that. This felt meant.
As if he was meant to be here. Meant to be doing this.
As if he were stepping, finally, onto a pathway that had been waiting for him all along.
Aquilan brought up his right hand which held a glowing golden stone.
A bit of sunshine in the dark. But Declan closed his hand over it and curled Aquilan’s fingers against the stone’s slick surface.
He shook his head and instead gestured to himself and made a creeping motion with his fingers, indicating that he would go ahead and scout.
Aquilan shook his head, but Declan squeezed his hand again and the shaking stopped.
Aquilan’s eyes–like luminous blue pools in the darkness–studied his face.
Trust me. Believe in me. All will be well, Declan thought so hard that he felt as if the words should have taken physical form in the air between them.
And then he was moving. Cutting through the darkness like the prow of an icebreaker through Arctic waves. Krith was out, held down against his right leg. The hilt felt warm in this hand. He wanted to see what they were facing before anyone struck, including himself.
Knowledge is power, the voice agreed.
Declan crept ahead to where the tunnel turned to the right.
He cast one glance back and saw Rhalyf holding onto Aquilan as the Sun King clearly wanted to go after him.
But Rhalyf held firm even as Aquilan appeared anguished.
Elasha, who was near Finley, appeared completely confused that he had gone ahead even though she still thought him an elf.
If you were trying to pretend to be human, do you really think this was a good idea? The voice asked. But, then again, you’re seeing perfectly well in the dark with those sunglasses on. Rahven, Rahven, Rahven, you’re breaking all your precious rules already about keeping your head down and–
I know, but I have to do it, he admitted.
He could never allow Aquilan or any of his friends to head into the darkness first. He couldn’t do it.
He just couldn’t. He had to protect the Sun King and everyone else who was in his heart.
And he felt that this was one of those times that only he could do that though he had no objective reasons to think that.
Yes, I know, the voice whispered.
He reached the corner and pressed his back up against it. The walls were covered in tile. He could feel its chill even through his long black jacket. He slowly looked around the corner. His heart fell.
There wasn’t one Leviathan coiling there. There weren't even a dozen. The next hallway was so thick with them as to be more coils than floor, walls or ceiling that could be seen.
If Aquilan had used his magic it would have disturbed this whole nest, the voice murmured. Nasty. You’re going to have to do this quick and quiet, Rahven, but I don’t think Krith is up to the job.
It has to be. It’s all I have, Declan reminded him as he rose up on the balls of his feet.
No, actually it isn’t, the voice murmured. You see I’ve left you something. Right there.
Declan’s gaze was drawn to the opposite wall of the Pedway. A longsword was leaning against the wall. It was made of dark metal, almost black matte, and had a single red stone set in the vicious hilt.
Meet Sorrow’s End, the voice said. A gift. For you, Rahven. For you.