The Underground City (The Lily Harper Series)

by H. P. Mallory

  Silently lifting my head up from behind the rock, I found myself face-to-face with Tallis’s bare thigh, and I squealed out loud.

  After a few seconds, during which I wondered if my heart would simply give out, I craned my neck upward to face him. Of course, he was still completely naked; and as my gaze revisited that place, I told myself quite sternly to close my eyes or look away, but I did neither. Instead, I looked directly at it. Right at it! When my eyes finally reached Tallis’s face, he was staring down at me, and he did not look amused.

  As soon as we made eye contact, he reached down, clutching me by the back of the neck, and yanked me upward. I couldn’t form a word in my mind as his intense gaze penetrated me, and his eyes narrowed in anger. I was so mortified, I couldn’t even think. I just couldn’t get past seeing Tallis’s … unit when it was no more than three inches from my face. And like a total moron, all I’d been able to do was gawk at it.

  Tallis didn’t release his hold on me, but instead threw my head back when I tried to look away from him and break eye contact. As he thrust me backward onto the rough surface of the boulder, my breath caught in my throat as I wondered if he planned to do me in right there, to slit my throat just to be done with me. I dropped my eyes to the level of his pecs.

  “Look at meh,” he demanded.

  Breathing deeply, I felt like I might pass out when my eyes met his again and I saw that his pupils were widely dilated. That was when I sensed he wasn’t quite as angry as I’d originally imagined, but he appeared to be … rather … What? Excited? “Um,” I started when I found my tongue and knew I had some ’splainin’ to do if I were to extricate myself from this very odd and uncomfortable situation. “I … uh … um, I was only trying to protect you,” I blurted out, my heart thumping in my chest.

  “Dinnae speak,” he replied and just stared at me, but released his grip on my neck. When he ran his fingers across my nape, over where his grasp had felt so hard, his fingers were much more tender.

  “Tallis, please don’t be upset with me,” I pleaded, when my wits unexpectedly returned and brought along with them a severe case of diarrhea of the mouth. “I’m sorry I invaded your privacy ...”

  He looked like he was about to say something before he clenched his teeth and stepped away. Turning to the rock next to him, he retrieved his kilt. I just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do, embarrassment flooding me. Actually, embarrassment didn’t describe the half of it. Overcome by intense mortification and the sudden wish that the ground would open up and swallow me whole, I added, “I was worried about you.” I felt obligated to explain my actions.

  But Tallis didn’t respond, and merely secured his kilt around his waist, before stepping into his sandals and retrieving his sword, snug inside its scabbard. He lifted the scabbard over his head and secured it in place against his chest, then turned to face me. When our eyes met again, his appeared more narrowed and angry. He didn’t say a word when he started walking forward. With no other choice, I grabbed my own sword and obediently followed him.

  “We will move oan ta the tavern,” he announced.

  He walked past Bill whom we found snoring against the tree trunk. I kicked Bill’s foot to wake him, suddenly nervous that Tallis might just leave us. In fact, I was convinced that was exactly what would happen if Bill didn’t wake up. “Bill!” I yelled when he made no sign or motion to open his eyes.

  “What?” he asked as he jerked with a start and began scanning his surroundings, his eyes wide. “What’s goin’ on, nips?” he inquired when his gaze rested on me again.

  “We’ve got to move,” I announced, grabbing my sweatshirt and loosely tying it around my waist before starting forward. Tallis had already vanished beyond one of the trees directly in front of us.

  “But I haven’t bathed yet!” Bill protested in a whiny tone.

  “I know,” I replied and stopped walking for a moment as I glanced back at him. “But unless you want to be left all alone in this forest, my advice is to start walking now.”

  “What the hell’d you do ta piss the Yeti off now?”

  I shook my head at him and sighed. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  Bill grumbled something unintelligible as he rose to his feet. After trying to stifle a few yawns, he complied and started following me. I’d already made it past the tree where Tallis disappeared and now, I could just make out his body’s outline as he walked around the base of a large hillside that was maybe twenty feet ahead of me.

  “This is BS, man,” Bill announced when he finally caught up with me.

  “We’re heading to a tavern and they might have baths there,” I answered while increasing my pace, which, thankfully, Bill copied and kept up with me.

  “A tavern?” Bill repeated as he scratched his head in obvious wonder. “Like a place where you drink alcohol an’ find big-boobed wenches to motorboat?”

  “I think that’s probably the definition you’d find in Webster’s Dictionary,” I replied somewhat absently, since all of my attention was now centered on finding Tallis again. We were just approaching the hillside where I last saw him, but once we rounded it, Tallis was nowhere in sight.

  “Dude, did the Yeti freakin’ ditch us?” Bill asked as I broke into a run. My heart fluttered and I felt something lodge in my throat.

  “I don’t know!” I called over my shoulder. Looking to my right, and then to my left, I saw nothing besides the skeletal outline of charcoaled trees that populated the Dark Wood. I stopped running, when I realized it was utterly useless, and wheeled around in a full circle, trying to find any trace of Tallis. Bill caught up with me, and had to lean onto his thighs before he could catch his breath.

  “If that prehistoric ape ditched us,” he trailed off as he inhaled and exhaled deeply again, before coughing and trying to catch his breath.

  “Hurry oop!” Tallis’s voice suddenly roared from above us. Looking up, I noticed he was standing at the top of a steep cliff. It was probably a good forty feet high; and the cliff face was nothing but sheer, smooth rock.

  “An’ just how in the hell do you expect us ta get up there, He-Man?” Bill demanded with his hands on his hips. “Do we look like frickin’ goats?”

  “There is a trail ’round the bend,” Tallis said in a monotone before disappearing from the top of the rock face, and presumably going the other way. I started around the bend of the mountain and noticed there was a narrow pathway that bisected the craggy rock face.

  “We gotta hike up that?” Bill whined, clearly perturbed.

  “Guess so,” I answered as I started up the incline. My calves burned almost immediately, and moments later, the muscles in my thighs were blazing. But I didn’t pause once, or bask in the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I continued up the trail and ignored my over-fatigued muscles. The closer I got to the top, the worse the incline became. I had to ultimately pull myself up the last few steps by holding onto the rocks, which jutted from the face of the mountain.

  Hoisting myself up and over the ledge of the cliff, I found a smiling Bill, who stood there with his hands on his hips and a smug look on his face. “Took ya long enough.”

  “Nice for you that angels can materialize,” I grumbled as I dusted myself off. I soon noticed Tallis leaning against the remains of a large tree that was about twenty feet from us. He didn’t say anything when he pushed away from the tree and continued down the pathway. I took another deep breath and Bill and I followed him.

  Although a trail ran between the blackened trees, it was difficult to follow, given how dark the forest was. Speaking of the trees, the farther we walked, the larger they became. They were still dark with the color of death, their branches not having seen a leaf in who knew how long? But they were, nonetheless, immense. They dominated the never ending night sky. As we came around a bend in the path, a structure suddenly loomed before us.

  “Is that the tavern?” Bill asked Tallis who was now ahead of us in his customary distance of only s
ix feet.

  “Aye,” Tallis answered, his first words since starting this last trek of our tour.

  The tavern looked like something you’d see in Shakespearean England. It was Tudor-style with a steeply pitched, thatched roof, and cobblestones covering the walls on the first floor. The second floor overhung the first and the black and white timber/plaster construction was reminiscent of Elizabeth I. The tall, mullioned windows and high chimney as well as the sign that hung over the front door which featured a carved glass of ale made it feel like we’d just traveled backward in time.

  As soon as the image of the carved glass of ale registered with me, I turned to face Bill and glanced down at his wrist, focusing on his alcohol monitor. I wasn’t exactly sure how the thing worked—if it alerted Afterlife Enterprises whenever Bill was simply around alcohol or if he actually had to ingest some. But what I did know was that I didn’t care to find out.

  “We are here,” Tallis announced when he marched up to the front door, which was already slightly ajar. After pulling the door farther open and without waiting for us, Tallis walked inside.

  “Time to get this show on the road,” Bill announced with a big smile as he slapped his hands together and proceeded forward, looking excited.

  “You realize, don’t you, Bill, that you can’t drink anything alcoholic?” I asked, as I followed him into the bizarre establishment.

  Inside, it was nearly standing room only. Not being a huge place—maybe four hundred square feet in total, it was very much alive with people drinking, singing, and in general, appearing to have a good time. The floor was uneven cobblestones, but the ceiling boasted hardwood plank flooring that had to be at least a few hundred years old. There were roughly hewn pine tables and chairs set up around the perimeter of the room, although the center of the room was unoccupied. Well, with furniture anyway. It was peppered by a few couples “dancing,” if you could call it that. Truthfully, all of them appeared to be at some level of inebriation, and the men kept clawing at the women, who I later decided were the tavern wenches. Their hiked-up skirts and plunging necklines, flashing their immense breasts, which were often hanging out, were my first clue.

  Tallis was already seated at the bar at the far end of the tavern. Bill strode up to him and pulled out a wooden stool, while I was just a few steps behind. Once he was seated, Bill looked up at me and shook his head, appearing perturbed. “If I have just one drink, it ain’t gonna be a big deal, Butter Nipples,” he announced.

  I shook my head and stood beside him because every other stool was already occupied. “If you drink anything, that monitor will go off,” I said as I motioned to the slim, black band around his wrist.

  “’Twill not work in here,” Tallis stated as he held up his hand to get the bartender’s attention.

  “What do you mean, it won’t work?” I inquired.

  Tallis shrugged when the bartender, who was a stocky man with a bald head and thick glasses, approached him. “The sixteen-year-old Lagavulin,” Tallis told him. The bartender didn’t reply, but simply nodded and walked away. Tallis faced me and said, “We are oot o’ range fer anythin’ belongin’ ta Afterlife Enterprises ta work.”

  “Snap!” Bill said as he nodded and grinned up at me. “So we’ve discovered one damned good thing about this crappy ass forest!”

  But I shook my head at him. “I don’t care,” I said with a frown at Bill. “You’re an alcoholic. You shouldn’t even be in here.” Scanning the room again and the myriad drunk people, I spotted one of the couples on the dance floor now caught in a heated embrace. The woman’s loosely fitted blousy shirt fell off her right shoulder and exposed one of her large, but very droopy, breasts. I faced Bill again. “This is just a bad idea.”

  “Shit, you gotta live a little, nips,” Bill responded, shaking his head in defiance. “We just went to hell an’ back an’ if that ain’t cause for a drink, I don’t know what is!”

  Tallis nodded and the bartender returned. He handed Tallis a pewter cup, which was etched with all sorts of designs on the sides. The cup had two handles and inside it was a dark amber-colored liquid. Tallis nodded at the bartender in thanks as he reached inside his sporran, and placed a pound coin on the bar. The bartender then addressed Bill.

  “Whaddya want, angel?” he asked, his accent thick and very English.

  “You got any specials goin’ in this joint?” Bill asked him and explained when the man frowned as if he didn’t get Bill’s gist. “Like you got any discounts on beer an’ nachos or cheese fries or hot wings?”

  The bartender shook his head as Bill sighed, long and hard. Then he turned around and faced me. “That’s what I call an unhappy hour.”

  “Sir?” the bartender asked, clearly wanting Bill to order so he could tend to his other customers.

  Bill glanced at the strange pewter cup Tallis was now lifting to his lips as he looked at the bartender again. “I’ll have one o’ those, I guess.”

  I was about to reprimand him but, not wanting to play the role of his mother, I decided Bill was an adult and should make his own decisions. That and maybe he did have a point—we were all far beyond stressed-out, owing to our last mission to the Underground. Maybe all we really needed was a little relaxation time—to enjoy one another and celebrate our escape from the Underground unscathed.

  “And you, miss?” the bartender asked as he turned his heavily lidded eyes in my direction.

  “What are you both drinking?” I asked, glancing first at Bill and then at Tallis. When it came to alcohol, I wasn’t much of an imbiber. Frankly, I didn’t have much experience with drinking alcoholic beverages in general.

  “Whisky, lass,” Tallis replied as he lifted the cup and took another swig of the amber liquid.

  “Oh,” I said, without a clue if I even liked whisky. Was that the one with the worm in the bottle? Hopefully not …

  “Sweetcheeks will have one too,” Bill piped up, facing the bartender. That was when I discovered that I’d failed to remember my purse on this little mission to the Underground. Therefore, I had no way of paying for anything.

  “Actually, I’m okay,” I said as I waved my hand dismissively before looking at Bill. “We don’t have any money,” I said in a low voice. I wasn’t sure how we would pay for Bill’s whisky, but figured Tallis would have to cover for Bill until I could pay him back.

  Tallis tapped his hand against the counter to get the bartender’s attention. “Bring the lass a whisky,” he announced.

  “But, Tallis,” I started.

  He shook his head, interrupting me, and faced the bartender again. “Dalwhinnie fer the lass,” he said to the man. The bartender nodded and Tallis placed two more pounds on the bar. I figured the other pound was to pay for Bill’s drink. The bartender took the money and approached the cash register. Moments later, he served two more pewter cups, handing the one filled with a darker amber liquid to Bill.

  “Yo, I need a couple o’ ice cubes,” Bill said to the man as he pointed to his cup. “I like this shiznit on the rocks, if ya know what I mean?”

  The bartender instantly frowned and Tallis shook his head. “Ye willnae deface the integrity o’ Lagavulin by poisonin’ it with ice,” he growled as he lifted the cup to his lips. Moments later, after swallowing the last of it, he promptly ordered a refill.

  “When in hell, I guess,” Bill said with a shrug as he lifted the pewter cup to his mouth and took a large gulp before clutching his throat and coughing. “Disgusting!” he exclaimed as he looked at Tallis suspiciously. “What in the hell is that? Tastes like turpentine!” Then, addressing me, and still sputtering and choking, he said, “Don’t drink it, Lils, I think it’s poison! It’s still burning my throat!”

  Tallis just chuckled as the bartender took his pewter cup and refilled it when he returned momentarily. “Bludy Yank cannae handle his whisky,” Tallis explained to the bartender, who chortled a response.

  “You call that shit whisky?” Bill asked, shaking his head and clearly offended. “I
call that liquid death!”

  “Aye,” Tallis answered with a chuckle as he downed another sip. “’Tis the smokiness ye cannae stomach, stookie angel,” he declared before shaking his head with amusement.

  “The peat moss,” the bartender added with a nod before he glanced at me. “How ’bout yours, pretty lady?”

  Now slightly nervous, I lifted the pewter mug to my mouth and inhaled deeply. The smell was acrid but pleasing at the same time. I took the smallest of sips and felt the alcohol burning as it slid down my throat. Shaking my head, I put the cup back on the bar. “Too strong!” I managed before my mouth salivated uncontrollably and my throat continued to burn.

  Tallis laughed as the bartender shook his head. “The Dalwhinnie is the lightest o’ the whiskies,” he said.

  “Aye,” Tallis interrupted. “Coot it with water.”

  The bartender reached for a jug of water and poured what looked like two tablespoons worth into my whisky. I lifted it again and swirled it around, hoping the water would dilute most of the horrible taste. Bill stood up and patted his stool, intimating that I should sit there. The contents of his pewter cup were already gone. “I’m gonna go find out if this weird-ass place has a bath,” he told me. “I can’t deal with my own shit smell anymore.” Sniffing his left armpit, he frowned and shook his head. “Save my seat, nips,” he added.

  “There are baths oopstairs,” Tallis told him as he turned to face Bill. “Ask fer Katie oop at the front.”

  Bill nodded before working his way through the dancers in the center of the room as I faced forward again. I didn’t look at Tallis, but at my pewter cup instead, forcing myself to take another sip. “Thanks for paying for the drinks,” I said, still refusing to look at him. Truth be told, I was still far beyond embarrassed over everything that had recently passed between us.