by C. J. Aaron
“How much farther, Cavlin?” They had been running for what seemed like miles before Andr’s voice broached the question that likely ran through all minds simultaneously. His voice was choppy as he called out between his rhythmic breaths.
“Not far now,” Cavlin urged as he sloshed through the knee-deep slurry. He held the small lantern high above his head, protecting the feeble flame from the splashing water that surrounded them. “There’s a bend in the path; the exit is just beyond.”
Though he tried to hide it, the panic in his voice was evident.
It wasn’t long before the water had risen above their knees. They churned through the liquid, now impervious to the stench that had once threatened to overpower their senses. Their hands were held up high, elbows bowed out to the sides for balance and to keep the remaining portions of their body dry. A low, steady rumble grew from their rear.
Ryl’s heart sank as he recognized the sound.
Having spent more than his share of time working along the edges of the river that bisected The Stocks, the roar of churning water was obvious. The deluge that would sweep them to their doom was following in their wake.
The flickering light of Cavlin’s lantern did little to illuminate the pathway before them. There was little to view here in the depths of the tunnel, far less that you’d enjoy viewing in greater detail. The slick stone walls that had run along their sides were constant, though now they belched water from the narrow portals with greater ferocity. Without warning, the wall to their left disappeared from view as the tunnel made an abrupt turn.
“It’s just around this bend.” Cavlin’s voice sounded over the growing growl of the water from their rear. As one they surged forward, ignorant to the splashing water that now saturated their bodies, faces and hair.
Less than twenty meters beyond the curve, Cavlin’s progress stopped as he reached a wooden support built in the edge of the left wall. The tunnel to this point had been sound, the stones they could see, though worn, remained firmly in place. Here the wooden support had been anchored into the wood, a section of cribbing built into the ceiling above, a crude path to the crumbling stone above.
“We go up here,” Cavlin called.
As he reached the wooden support, he swung his arm upward, grasping onto the supports that tied the wood into the wall at its side. Using the crude ladder, he hauled his soaking body out of the churning liquid. “Vox, a little more light if you please.”
The elementalist responded without hesitation, calling on the power that surged through his left arm. A small, yet blinding orb of fire materialized, illuminating the tunnel.
There were a scant few moments for investigation. The current of the water had grown steadily as the level had risen. Ryl and his companions now locked arms as they bottlenecked at the wooden pillar. Though disguised among the supports, the underside of the trapdoor was obvious in the enhanced light of the phrenic’s fire.
Cavlin had reached the top of the ladder, though his progress had stopped. The guard repeatedly hammered his shoulder into the wooden panel. Groans of pain, mixed with curses of frustration as the trapdoor refused to budge. The roar of the approaching water quickly overpowered his frustration.
Ryl’s vision noted the movement from the tunnel at their rear.
The frothing wall of water churned as it raged against the walls at its side.
The putrid wave of their death approached with a roar.
Chapter 33
There was no time for discussion. Few orders could be disseminated in time.
There was only time to act.
And quickly.
Ryl dipped into the speed in his veins as he called to his phrenic companions.
“Paasek, we need a wall,” he called as he sloshed past. “We need time.”
The rigid phrenic shoved him forward, boosting his progress through the water as he passed. Ryl reached the wooden support, leaping upward just as Paasek’s hand connected with the stone wall to their side. The wall buckled as the phrenic poured his strength into his command over the stone. For a moment, the grating of rock against rock drowned out the roar of the wave that sought to smother them. Cavlin’s motions were sluggish, his eyes strained yet wide as he thrust the weight of his body upward against the wooden door.
There was no time for subtlety.
They had sought to stay anonymous. Hoping to steal their way into the city before their presence was truly noted. At the present, Ryl couldn’t care whether the entirety of the kingdom knew of their presence. He let the woodskin form over his right arm; the texture of his skin hardened.
A few meters to his left, the wall in front of Paasek jutted out, lurching across the pathway at an oblique angle. A stone barrier pulled out from the wall, connecting to the floor below. The unnatural defense had covered close to half the span of the tunnel before straightening out as it stretched toward the wooden supports and concealed ladder. Stone ground against stone as the weight of the wave crashed into it. The angle saved it from utter destruction, though in several places cracks wept water. Several small holes opened, shooting jets of liquid inward.
Even slowed due to the speed that surged through his veins, the sound of the rushing water was deafening. The peak of the wave was nearly to the top of the tunnel, though the backwater where his companions huddled was still only knee high. The meager barrier for the moment had saved them from demise.
Ryl had reached the top of the ladder, squeezing in beside Cavlin, whose desperation was frozen across his face, as time had ground to a halt. He felt the colossal weight of his right arm as the woodskin turned flesh into thick bark. Using his upward momentum, Ryl roared as he swung his fist upward into the concealed trapdoor.
Pain lanced through his hand, running up his arm as his fist connected with the wood. The heft of his arm struck with the devastating power of a battering ram. The wooden panel exploded into shrapnel as his fist punched through its defense. He wasted no time pushing his body through the jagged timbers into the darkness of the chamber above.
There was little time for investigation as he reached the damp interior of the room. The area was shrouded in darkness, revealing no hints of its purpose; the only light present was the beam of illumination that launched upward from Vox’s light below. That there were no signs of habitation at the moment was a relief.
Ryl let the woodskin fade as he reached back into the hole. With his left arm he collected a fistful of Cavlin’s tunic, wrenching the man upward into the chamber.
“Ramm, get them up here,” Ryl screamed over the roar of the rushing water.
The massive phrenic was already in motion. With no apparent effort, he scooped up the smaller, yet imposing frame of Lenu, tossing the Vigil captain upward to Ryl’s waiting arms. There was an undeniable sense of anger written across her face, yet it was far overshadowed by the terror in her eyes.
One after another, the phrenics aided the others up the passage. Their motions were swift, moving at a sprint while the others crawled. Paelec soon joined him in the chamber above as one by one their companions were pulled from the clutches of the devastating torrent.
Ryl’s heart thundered in his chest; the pounding drowned out the rush of the water below, silencing the hammering of the rain on the roof above. With every soaking body of his companions that reached safety, he breathed a sigh of relief. At last, it was only Paasek who remained. His ascent was sluggish, one of his hands maintaining constant contact with the wall. Ryl could see him laboring to hold the barrier as he ascended.
His hands had neared the top as a sharp cracking sound thundered from inside the tunnel. The phrenic councilor’s head turned to the side, his eyes going wide as he recognized the source of the sound.
His stone barrier failed beneath the weight of the water.
With a final surge, he lurched forward, his hands grasping the lip of the trapdoor. Ryl’s hand closed around his arm as the rushing water struck his lower body. Paasek cried out as the impact pulled his legs from the
ladder, sucking his body back downward into the flood. Ryl hardened the woodskin over his hand and arm as he latched onto the struggling phrenic’s outstretched wrist.
The strain from the weight of the massive phrenic pulled his body across the slick floor. Even with the benefit of the speed, it was only a moment before the force of the water dragged him across the opening. Ryl found himself in an untenable position, one arm locked onto the struggling phrenic below, the other braced against the opposite edge of the tunnel. He looked directly down into the panicked eyes of the phrenic councilor. There was no disguising the greedy churn of the water that reeled him in.
There was little else for Ryl to do but maintain. He had no leverage over the situation. Lying prone on the soaking floor, with both arms thoroughly engaged, he had no means to pull the phrenic free from the torrent that sucked him downward. He winced in pain as Paasek’s grip solidified over the hardened woodskin of his right arm. Even locked onto each other’s wrists, the pull of the water was too great. He felt the stony hands of the phrenic slip down his forearm.
A body slid to the floor beside him, one arm sliding under his chest, anchoring against the opposite edge of the opening. The other shot toward the churning waters below, grabbing a hold of Paasek’s other flailing arm at the wrist.
“I’ve got you,” Paelec reassured the pair as he screamed over the roar of the water. Though the strain lessened substantially, the water still easily overpowered their combined efforts.
A moment later, Ryl felt the squeeze of hands on his ankles as the others joined the struggle. The chamber and the churning waters below plunged into blackness as Vox dropped the light for the sake of securing the others.
Paasek’s hand slipped further down Ryl’s arm. He could feel the grip of the phrenic elder failing. The strain of the unaccustomed new skill had drained his body past its limits. They were fighting a battle they could not win.
Ryl gritted his teeth, screaming as he clamped down on the phrenic’s wrist. With every ounce of his strength, he pulled against the terrifying grasp of the river. At his side, Paelec grunted as he struggled to hoist the phrenic from the water. The battle had only lasted moments, yet he felt his energy flagging fast. There was nothing they could do in the face of the raging water. With every passing heartbeat, Paasek slipped further from grasp.
The ground at their heads trembled as the next body entered the struggle. The massive arms of Ramm lunged into the opening, wrapping under the armpits of Paasek.
“Pull,” he cried as he wrenched the phrenic upward. For a moment, the accumulation of their combined powers was meaningless. The water refused to release its grasp. A grip that was proving stronger than wood or stone.
Ryl felt the hope slipping from his body, as did his strength. The fears, the doubts, the impending devastation crashed down on him, hitting with a force more potent than the devastating attacks of the Lei Guard. Damaris would not claim the life of another phrenic.
Too many had died already.
With a final surge, they pulled against the water. Ramm’s grunts of exertion turned into a scream of desperation as he hoisted the phrenic up. At last they were rewarded by a hand’s width of progress as they wrenched his body from the rushing channel below. Once the momentum started, there was no stopping or slowing its progress.
After what seemed like an eternity battling the strength of the water, the entirety of Paasek’s body appeared through the hole. The last stretch was frantic; the result was violent. As the phrenic cleared the opening, his body pulled Ryl and Paelec with it. The strength of Ramm’s pull sent all of them toppling across the slick wooden floor.
Ryl let the speed in his veins fade. Time snapped back to normal as he skidded across the wood. He felt the hands of his companions pulling at him, dragging him further from the opening of the tunnel. The commotion of the room was chaotic.
His chest heaved, inhaling massive breaths, as the toll of the struggle had been dramatic. He lay flat on his stomach, the right side of his face pressed against the cold, wet floor. At the moment, he cared not to move. Spread out less than a meter away, in roughly the same position, Paasek labored as he sucked in breath after breath. Their eyes met, the stony gray interiors shone with relief, yet the weariness was overpowering. He reached out his arm, placing it on Ryl’s shoulder, a simple act that required a visible effort. The weight of the solid hand was intense, much like a boulder now rested on his arm.
“Thank you.” Paasek mouthed the words, though the sincerity was genuine. Ryl nodded in return.
Andr knelt down before them, running his inquisitive eyes over the pair, searching for any open signs of injury.
“That was too close. Is everyone alright?” he inquired as he surveyed the exhausted bodies of the phrenics lying on the wooden floor. Paelec had returned to a seated position, rubbing his hand gingerly over his wrist where he’d locked arms with the struggling phrenic. Vox kneeled close to Ramm; a small ball of fire again illuminated their area. The tributes did their best to see to their companions on the floor, while the Vigil prowled the edges of the dimly illuminated room, watching for any threat.
Ryl scanned the area with his mindsight. Within the perimeter of his vision, there were no signs of anything other than the group that remained at his side. The dark smudge along the periphery remained constant, though unmoving.
He pulled his arms underneath him, leveraging his body up, rolling back to his knees. With the addition of Vox’s light, the details of the room were now clear. The chamber was narrow yet stretched out nearly twice as long. An assortment of crates were stacked against the wall in piles of varying sizes. Many were in rough shape, highlighting the ravages of ages. The boxes, like the floor below, were blanketed in dust. Even in the dim light, he could see the tracks from where his companions had disturbed the heavy layer that coated the ground. All around him, the floor was soaked, scattered with random shards or stones and splinters of wood care of their dramatic exit from the tunnel.
The ceiling was high, ten meters above their head; it disappeared into darkness as it reached beyond the extent of Vox’s illumination. A few thin windows were spaced evenly, though well above their heads, their surfaces distorted as the water from the storm washed over them.
The patter of the steady rain against the glass and roof brought back memories of his youth. With vivid details he recalled lying in his bed, listening to the sound of the rain as it hammered against the angled roof just above his head.
“Are we safe here?” Andr inquired, searching the room until he found Cavlin, who’d positioned himself against the far wall, his ear pressed against one of the doors that exited the room.
The guard turned, loping back in the direction of the group at the call.
“Aye, there will be none to disturb us here,” Cavlin responded as he returned to the group. “I doubt the noise of our disturbance would have been noted over the rain. Even so, this safehouse is well concealed among the industrial buildings just north of the port. The ones who watch over this location will trouble none who use this for a place of rest. We’ll be safe here.”
“For how long,” Nielix chimed in from his post toward the side of the group. The Vigil watched the surroundings with cautious, wary eyes. He scanned the shadows constantly, assessing the darkness for threats to their safety.
Cavlin wrung out the excess water from his shirtsleeve before bringing the cloth to his nose. He pulled his head back immediately, his nose wrinkling at the offensive stench that lingered.
“There are likely few who still use these pathways,” he admitted. “We could stay here indefinitely if we needed to. There is little risk of discovery here. This chamber is more like a room inside a room, tucked deep within a massive, yet rarely utilized warehouse. Those who maintain its secrecy run just enough business out of the main shipping center to maintain the guise. We’d run out of food long before the need to move arose.”
The guard moved across the room to a crate positioned against the side of th
e wall. With a creaking of protesting wood, the box opened. Cavlin wasted no time fishing through the contents of the cache.
“We have two days before Deliverance begins. There is little to be accomplished tonight anyway. Storms from the sea are rarely short lived; it’s unlikely that this one will be an exception.”
He moved from the crate back toward his companions; his eyes surveyed the weary bodies stretched across the floor.
“The tunnel has brought us well within the boundaries of the second ring of Leremont,” he offered. “I know the area that the mender described well. We aren’t far now. We could use the rest.”
He held out his hand, offering the prize he’d collected from the crate for all to see.
“And a bath.”
Chapter 34
The persistent deluge of water from the storm remained a constant as the night slipped into early morning. As the day progressed, the storm showed little signs of relinquishing its hold over the sky above. The ferocity of the rain ebbed and flowed, yet it remained steady long into the following night before it began to break.
With little concern of discovery, they started a fire using the wood of several of the more decrepit crates that were positioned around the room. The heat from the meager blaze was enough to cut the chill of the damp air, allowing them an opportunity to dry their soaking clothes.
The advent of soap was an unexpected though thoroughly welcome discovery. The flood of rainwater had worked to clear a portion of the stench of the sludge they had been forced to trudge through, yet a heavy odor remained. There were two doors exiting their interior hideaway; though Cavlin assured them that there was little worry of discovery, sentries were posted just beyond, hidden among the crates of the massive storehouse they found themselves in.