The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  And it was literally that: a gate. Two large, heavy, wooden doors opened to a wide, dark tunnel. A crowd of people that he could never hope to count packed the threshold.

  Raimie and Kheled pushed and shoved their way through the crunch. When they made it through unharmed, Raimie took a few seconds to keep the world from spinning quite so fiercely.

  “Task complete, Councilwoman,” Kheled reported to Ferin, his hands firmly planted on his knees.

  “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Raimie asked his father furiously, interrupting whatever response Ferin had for his friend.

  “I know how you are in the morning,” Aramar held up his hands in a denial of responsibility. “I didn’t want to know what waking up a hung-over you would be like.”

  “Relatively painless,” Kheled answered the unspoken question, dusting off his clothes.

  Raimie glowered at the two of them, but he gave up trying to convey his annoyance when he observed the cheeky grins on their faces.

  “Can we focus on the task at hand?” Eledis asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Sure.”

  “Sorry.”

  Kheled, Raimie, and Aramar shared another glance, and their uproarious storm of laughter burst through in snorts and chortles.

  Eledis rolled his eyes and gestured to the three Councilmen who would stay behind. They took center stage, each saying their piece.

  “As you leave this place of rest and respite, may Alouin’s hand be upon you.”

  “May all of your endeavors meet with success.”

  “And may the forces of evil fall before you.”

  They retreated to the perimeter of the cavern and bowed deeply. That was it?

  Eledis strode over the threshold, and Ferin, Kheled, and his father soon followed. Apparently, it was.

  There was something utterly terrifying about stepping into the unknown once again, but now that he’d stopped defying his destiny, a thrill of excitement mixed with the fear, producing a bittersweet emotion Raimie had never experienced before.

  He took a deep breath and truly began his journey.

  Interlude I: Hope

  “So, what’s the plan, Arivor?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  I hoped that I’d been quiet enough following my friend’s racket to ensure that Lirilith didn’t wake. She didn’t need to know what we were up to this morning.

  “You know my Uncle Reive on the Council, the one who told me about the body?”

  “I remember Reive,” I said, barely keeping the disdain out of my voice.

  “Well, he finally dropped a hint as to where they’re hiding it!” Arivor exclaimed excitedly. “It’s deep inside the catacombs beneath the temple. In an unmarked grave, if you can believe it. Although I suppose it does make sense to keep what looks like a dead body in a grave even if it never decomposes.

  “All we need to do is get into the catacombs, look for an inconspicuous spot to shift, and scout each of the tombs as some sort of insect, probably spiders. Spiders make sense in catacombs, right?”

  “You want to search EVERY tomb?” I asked incredulously.

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  Remembering the entire reason we were so desperate to find our quarry, I silenced any objections I might have. I’d comb through every single body-filled grave in the entire city if it meant we had the means for a cure.

  We entered the temple, posing as a recently bereaved family come to visit our deceased loved one. I’d no trouble faking my grief, hoping with everything I held dear that this wouldn’t become a practice run for our near future.

  A guard escorted us into the catacombs after we’d made our obligatory obeisances at Alouin’s altar. I tried not to laugh at the irony.

  Once we’d been surrounded by graves, Arivor pulled out all of the stops, wailing and throwing himself on one of the recently constructed monuments to the deceased. Gravely watching with pity, I pulled the guard to the side.

  “Could you leave us to ourselves for a while? I think my brother needs solitude in order to properly farewell his wife,” I asked, quietly slipping him a gold piece to sweeten the deal.

  The guard surreptitiously tucked his bribe into his pocket and left the two of us with the dead. As soon as the coast was clear, Arivor immediately ceased his wailing and wiped the tears from his face.

  “How was I?” he asked teasingly.

  “You had even me convinced!” I assured him, already removing my shoes and flexing.

  Arivor followed my example and indicated that he’d start his search deeper in the catacombs.

  Once he’d left, I concentrated on thinking like a spider, spinning my traps and catching prey. As always, it was extremely difficult to keep my mind detached and not slip completely into the spider mindset. Some, like Arivor, never had issues with it, but I’d always found shape change difficult. I suppose I was too good at adopting the mindset of whatever it was that I was becoming.

  We both began our searches, crawling into the tiny holes and cracks that were almost obligatory in every sarcophagus. I endured sights and stenches beyond belief as I encountered bodies in every stage of decomposition. The entire time, I kept Rafe’s face firmly centered in my thoughts.

  Eventually, I heard Arivor shouting for me from where he’d been searching. Relieved, I crawled out of the grave I’d just checked and changed back. I shrugged out all of the invisible kinks the change caused, ensured that I hadn’t retained any spidery features, and ran toward my friend once I’d dressed. Arivor hovered over a common grave, nothing to denote it from the others.

  “The body’s in there!” he whispered reverently. “I was starting to doubt my uncle, but Reive was telling the truth. It’s amazing!”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you done with your crisis of faith?” I asked sarcastically. “Want to give me a hand?”

  We put our backs into shoving the lid off. It crashed loudly to the ground, and we flinched, heads swiveling to the stairs. When no one shouted an alarm, we hesitantly examined our find. A deathly still human body lay in the sarcophagus, perfectly healthy and in good condition. After observing intently for a few moments, the chest rose and fell slightly, showing that the man was alive but deeply asleep.

  “Now what?” I asked, breaking our reverent stupor.

  “I don’t know,” Arivor whispered. “I never thought we’d actually find him. I thought the stories were true, that he’d gone to the ether, leaving us mortals here to squabble until his return. And he’s a human…?”

  “Well obviously, the tales told us aren’t true,” I said, reaching into my deep pockets for my trusty scalpel and the bottle I’d brought along just in case.

  I handed it to Arivor who took it with confusion. I rolled my eyes again.

  “We’re going to take a blood and tissue sample,” I said slowly. “I’ll need them to reverse engineer whatever he did to his body to gain his powers.”

  Shaking himself, Arivor grabbed a wrist and pulled it over the side of the coffin. He shuddered.

  “It’s still warm.”

  “That’d make sense,” I murmured, crouching and starting the cut. “He’s not dead, so…”

  The laceration closed up as soon as it began to bleed, leaving nothing for me to collect. Wrinkling my brow, I tried again, watching the phenomenon once more.

  “That may take a while,” I muttered, curiosity roused.

  I was eventually able to achieve a deep enough cut for a trickle of blood to flow through before the wound closed back over. We even got a nice steady stream when I ripped off a sample of skin. Once we’d collected enough, I carefully wiped my scalpel on an inconspicuous portion of my pants and put both it and the full bottle back into my pocket.

  Puffing and panting, the two of us pushed the lid back into place after Arivor reverently laid the arm back inside. We climbed the stairs and knocked to the let the guard know that we’d finished. Once back in the hall, I handed him another gold piece.
r />   “You saw nothing. You heard nothing,” I told him before releasing my hold on it.

  The guard nodded, and the two of us departed the temple, heads held high in pride. Much work waited before we could find Rafe a cure, but the two of us had done the impossible. We’d stolen a piece of a god.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Mom, I’m done with my homework! I’m going out with Arivor!” I yelled as I raced down the hallway of our shack and toward the door.

  “All right, Eri,” she said, stepping in front of me before I could barrel my way past her and escape.

  She licked her thumb and rubbed it against my cheek. I shuffled impatiently.

  “Promise me you’ll be good. There are very few people in the world that’ll love or even understand your boundless curiosity and skepticism. I don’t want you to find too much trouble,” she muttered, focused solely on cleaning my face.

  I grimaced and pushed her hand away.

  “I promise, mom!” I said, giving her my most winning grin.

  She stared at me for a few moments more as if trying to judge if I was telling the truth or not. I smiled even wider and sidled around her toward the door.

  “I expect you home for dinner,” she pronounced, wearily turning toward the kitchen.

  As soon as she turned her back, I raced away, determined to make a break for my freedom. I sprinted down the grimy back alleys of my neighborhood, barely registering familiar faces raising their hands in greeting.

  The houses became less ramshackle and more ornate the closer to the city’s center that I approached. I arrived at the unmarked and rarely discussed line that those of low birth and little privilege could never cross.

  Ducking into one of the last dark alleys between my house and my friend’s, I rooted through the rubbish for my roughly wrapped bundle of clothes. I unwrapped the heavy burlap cloth from around it and hastily changed into my aristocrat’s costume.

  Once I was properly attired, I crossed that dividing line and boldly strolled the streets of the absurdly rich and powerful. I arrived outside my friend’s small estate, opened the gate, walked through his family’s ornate garden, and confidently rapped on the front door.

  After a short wait, his mother answered, smiling and beckoning me inside.

  “Greetings, Erianger! Arivor is almost finished with school work. He’ll be down momentarily. Please feel free to wait in the parlor for him.”

  “Yes ma’am,” I courteously replied.

  Because I went to the same academy as her son, Arivor’s mother thought I was the son of some wealthy merchant or powerful statesman like her own child. She’d die of shock and shame if she discovered where I laid my head at night. I’d never tell her that the reasons I was able to attend the school were hard work and intelligence, by proving myself ten times over to the administration and the dean.

  While waiting, I perused the collection of books on display along the far wall of the parlor. I was hoping against hope that something besides religious texts had been added to the many leather bindings, but of course, I was destined to disappointment. Sighing with disgust, I flipped around, meaning to find a seat, but before I could, Arivor pounded down the stairs.

  “I’m done mom I’m going out with Erianger see you later,” he yelled without a pause.

  He waved at me, and I followed him out the door. We both knew where to go, so there was no need for talk while we chased one another down the streets, ignoring the shouts and curses that followed in our wake. We stopped in the closest market square and climbed up one of the enormous, ancient, oak trees that dominated the green space around the market’s fountain.

  Halfway up the tree, we swung a leg to either side of the branch we’d claimed and looked out over the city. From there, we played our favorite game, making up life stories for random city dwellers from way up high.

  After several rounds, we finished with a chubby woman furiously marching across the square.

  “Maybe she’s late for a meeting,” Arivor guessed halfheartedly while covering up a yawn with his hand.

  “No, she looks much too angry for that. My guess is she’s about to confront a cheating husband with proof of his straying.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, we should alert the city guard. She looks fit to murder someone.”

  “We shouldn’t get involved, Arivor! Besides, you’re probably right. I’m sure it’s something much more mundane.”

  “Well,” my friend paused and yawned again, “if we’re not alerting the city guard, I think it’s time I head home. I have an early day tomorrow.”

  “So do I, but you don’t see me asking to head home so early.”

  Arivor glared at me, and I smirked.

  “Fine! Let’s get back.”

  We clambered down. Every afternoon that I spent with my friend, we’d travel to a midway point between our houses by unspoken agreement, somewhere still within the ‘safe’ zone for Arivor but close enough to my home that I wouldn’t have to spend too much time alone on the streets at such a late hour.

  Today, however, our daily routine was interrupted while we passed through a narrow cut-through by a familiar voice calling Arivor’s name. My friend halted in fear, and I huffed irritably both at him and the group of tall, burly boys coming our way.

  “Well, look who it is,” the leader of the gang drawled. “Never thought I’d see you wandering the streets without your bodyguards tailing you.”

  He smashed a fist into the opposite hand.

  “I guess now’s a good a time as any to give you that beating you so richly deserve.”

  He advanced on us menacingly with his toadies trailing behind, eyes only for Arivor. My friend looked ready to take his beating, and I considered running to fetch a guardsman while he did that. In the end, however, I knew that I’d never be able to live with myself if I abandoned him.

  “When he’s distracted, run,” I whispered.

  I stepped in front of Arivor.

  “Hey Casey, I know I tend to fade into the background at school, but you really didn’t see me now?” I asked, frantically scanning my surroundings for some tactical advantage before unleashing the taunt that was sure to incense him. “Maybe your poor eyesight is what made it so easy for your mom to court that human slave while you were in the same house.”

  The older boy cocked his head. Apparently, I wasn’t conforming to his preconceived notions of how I’d react when threatened with violence. I sucked on my teeth before diving in again with the hopes of fully dragging his attention away from my friend.

  “I mean, we all knew she had to be a little simple to give her son a girl’s name, but getting caught with a human? That was idiotic on so many lev-”

  Casey roared, cocked back his fist, and sprinted forward, fully committed to his swing. At the last second, I ducked under his arm and sidestepped up the wall to the right, hooking his neck with my elbow as I passed. Once both my feet were firmly on the ground, I hauled against his weight, using my momentum to toss him down. The main threat eliminated, I tripped the next bully in line. Leaping over their bodies, I slid under the legs of the last two, pointedly ignoring the pain of newly torn flesh. I bounced to my feet and shoved the back of the last boy.

  I’d hoped that he’d collide with his friend, piling all four of the bullies in a neat stack, but I’d underestimated my opponent’s balance and overestimated my own strength. Instead of falling, the last boy merely stumbled and clocked me in the face with what felt like the force of a bear swatting at prey. I shot backward, hitting my head on brick. Hazily gazing at the twinkly little stars dancing around my head, I hardly recognized the four shapes gathering around me.

  I don’t know what Casey said before he spat on my face, but I definitely felt every single one of the boots as they slammed into my body. I curled into a tight ball to protect my already injured head, hoping that they’d spend their rage quickly.

  There was a whack and slam, and two of the boys dropped, unconscious, beside me. The other two
shifted away, but they quickly lost consciousness and fell as well.

  Arivor tossed his chunky, tree branch, to the side and knelt to help me up. I stood stiffly and kicked Casey’s sleeping body.

  “You were supposed to find a guardsman,” I muttered, watching the boys just in case one woke up.

  “And bring them back here to witness a slum boy beating up some rich kids? I don’t think so,” Arivor replied. “I’d rather fight than try to convince my parents to bail you out of jail.”

  I made a face and limped toward the alley’s end.

  “Can I go home?” I asked, hissing through the sudden slam of pain.

  “I know a healer that owes my family a favor, so healer first and then home, all right?” Arivor replied, steadying me as I walked.

  “Deal.”

  We left the four bullies in the alley. The never gave us trouble again.

  The mountain had swallowed them whole. Three days spent in the dark, plunging down the throat of the precipice of rock above, and Raimie thought he knew what madness might be like. Every step down the square tunnel revealed more of those same perfectly carved, ninety-degree angles from floor to wall to ceiling to wall once more.

  Thank Alouin for the torches bracketed into the walls. If they’d been plunged into pitch black, Ramie would have panicked and fled by now. Instead, one or two brave Esela took shifts venturing into the dark to conjure flame onto the line of sconces disappearing into the mountain’s depths.

  Even that cheery illumination provided a thin barrier to the looming sense of dread that hovered over the small army. The apprehension built each hour they spent in the long box, and its effects were making themselves known among the troops. No physical violence had erupted as of yet, but groups of irritable soldiers loudly bickered and complained the further they trailed from the column’s head.

  When it came to the possibility of violence, the biggest cause for concern was the bitter hatred between the races. Already, several arguments had forced Eledis, Ferin, or another leading figure to arbitrate between disgruntled parties.