by C S Vass
Donyo was frozen, but Fiona didn’t let that stop her from leaping at the remaining soldier, blade alive in her hands. Her opponent managed to dodge the blow and grab her wrists together in an iron-like grip, desperately trying to force the sword from her hands. Just as he began to shout for help Donyo jumped behind him and tried to wrangle him in a chokehold, but the soldier was strong as an ox and it was all they could do to disrupt him for a few precious moments before all three collided to the ground in a tangle of bodies.
As soon as Fiona hit the stone path the soldier let out a magic whistle loud enough to make her ears ring. “Half of Sun Circle will have heard that!” Donyo said. Fiona was still struggling against her red-eyed enemy when she heard a wet thrump and suddenly he moved no more. Martin Lightwing had silenced him with a well-placed arrow through the heart.
“Both of you need to leave, now,” Donyo said.
“Come with us,” Fiona urged. “They’ll kill you.”
“They know you’re gone by now,” Donyo said quickly. A look of fear came into his eyes, and he rapidly looked between Martin and Fiona. Fiona saw a look of understanding in Martin’s eyes.
“Make it convincing,” Donyo pleaded to him. “There’s still some hope I might be of use here.”
“What are you doing?” Fiona gasped. Martin had picked up a heavy stone, and struck Donyo hard with a vertical blow on the crown of his head. The Master Architect dropped like a hammer.
“Martin!” she said.
“He might wake up in a cell,” Martin said. “But he at least stands chance of talking himself out of it this way. If he manages that, then he can still be of use to us.”
Fiona stood there paralyzed by everything that had happened.
“Shit,” Martin muttered. “I almost forgot.” He immediately searched Donyo’s body and pulled out, of all things, the silver arrow that preceded her trial. “He was going to give it to you,” Martin said. “Put it in your quiver.”
She took the arrow, but still stood as if in a trance. What was happening? Had she misjudged everything so poorly? Was Martin going to be her hero, and not the other way around? Why couldn’t she get a grip on things?
“Fiona!” Martin hissed. “Come on!” Grabbing her by the arm he pulled her into the sewers, and lifted the bronze door behind them.
Darkness swept over them as the door shut tight. Fiona was stunned that in a moment of crisis she had frozen, and Martin Lightwing, the weak little boy she once forced to eat mud, acted to save them.
“Are you alright?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“Yeah,” Fiona responded. “But we might as well get rid of the robes. We won’t be needing them anymore.”
They ditched their garments and walked together in darkness. Soon they saw a bright light pulsing up ahead, and found themselves moving along the same glowing minerals that Fiona had encountered before. “It must all be powered by the magic of the Moonwood,” Martin said. “To think, all of this magic has just been lurking here underneath our feet. It’s incredible.”
“It’s enough to make me wish I lived somewhere without a magical forest miles below me,” Fiona responded. She was in no mood for talking.
As they moved along a nagging voice crept into the back of her head. Wasn’t this the kind of life you always wanted? The thought was a guilty one. She did dream of fighting epic battles, defending her city, and maybe deep down she imagined herself rescuing her older brother from danger. But those were daydreams, where the safety of returning to the world was just a thought away. Now that she was living it…it certainly didn’t feel glorious or exciting. She felt more cold and confused than anything.
“We’re going to make it, Fiona, Martin said. “I know we will. And when we do we’re going to get these twins on our side, and take back our city.”
“I know that, Martin!”
The look he gave her in the dark red glow of the sewers made her heart ache. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“It’s okay,” Martin said. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand, it doesn’t feel great. You don’t need my optimism, you just need me to be here and help you. Well, I intend to.”
“Thank you,” was all she could think to say, but she couldn’t believe that this was Martin. She didn’t know people were capable of changing like this. She wondered if the Duke changed. Maybe he really was the hero of a revolution thirty years ago, when the likes of Geoff Hightower fought besides him to defeat an empire. That would have been long before he became an angry fat old man. Was anyone possible of changing that much? Was she?
“I stopped at Clearwater before coming to Sun Circle,” Martin said as they continued their descent. “It was bizarre, Fiona. The place is like a military compound. Headmaster Fiercewind is downright scary. She has professors scrambling about like generals. They all know you’ve been sentenced to die. You’re like a hero to the ones who are holding out. Some of the students made a likeness of Thrushling in the dining area and were using it for target practice.”
That made Fiona chuckle. “He’ll wish that all he had to face were a bunch of Clearwater students when I get ahold of him,” she said. Still, it was hard to believe. She couldn’t imagine that anyone at Clearwater cared much whether she lived or died. Maybe Martin was just trying to be nice, or maybe people liked her better when they thought she was about to be executed.
“The Leaf District is so dangerous right now,” Martin went on. “There was all sorts of fighting in the streets. But we can put an end to that soon. Things will be back to normal.”
His naivety made her sad. No Martin, she thought. Nothing will ever be the same again. Not for Haygarden, and not for me.
“It’ll be morning by now,” Fiona said after a while. “I wonder how quickly Downcastle is going to try to rein in Clearwater.”
“Quickly enough that we’ll have to act fast,” Martin said.
They walked in silence after that, sometimes stopping to investigate several possible paths, always choosing the one that led downward the most immediately. Fiona found herself wishing that Donyo had accompanied them. Drunk as he might have been she had a feeling that the Master Architect would be able to navigate the sewers easily, and at least give them the peace of mind of knowing they were going the right way. More than once they stopped and considered if that last path actually had descended a little more steeply after all. They always kept moving forward.
After a time the path they walked became straight and the tunnel grew wider. The red glow grew stronger and Fiona had the strange feeling of being surrounded by thousands of angry fireflies. The thought made her skin crawl, and the mysteries of what might be waiting up ahead for them in the Moonwood didn’t make her feel any better. The ground began to grow muddy and their footsteps were marked by little wet splashes.
“What was that?” Martin asked suddenly.
“What?” Fiona said, stopping. She placed her hand on the knife at her waist. Had soldiers been able to pursue them after all? The sewers were massive, a city under a city in and of itself. What hope did Vaentysh soldiers have of finding them way down here in the dark?
“I heard a noise,” he said. “There I think.” He turned and pointed, but Fiona could see nothing but her own fears in the light that surrounded them.
She heard a snarling that gave her heart pause. Out of the darkness emerged something that resembled a human but…so un-humanlike. It was naked except for a torn sash that draped from its waist to knees. Lumps of bulbous muscled skin knotted the creatures body, and soggy wet sacs covered what might have been eyes. A sharp red tongue poked from its strangely vertical mouth that hissed and spit incoherently as it slowly lumbered towards them.
“What the fuck is that?” Martin asked, as he nocked an arrow.
“Is that a drumba addict?” Fiona asked, horrified.
“No way,” Martin said. “That thing was never human.”
The creature took another step, but menacing as its demeanor was it made no move to attack them. Fiona
found herself wishing it had eyes, so that she might try and peer into the soul of whatever tortured thing this was and determine something about its nature.
“Don’t hurt it,” she said, as she placed a hand on Martin’s arm, and guided his aim towards the ground.
“I don’t know, Fiona,” he said. “I don’t like the look of that thing.”
Fiona didn’t either, but still…
“We’re in its home,” she said. “Look, it’s not attacking. We might have scared it.”
“We might have scared it!” Martin shrieked. “Gods I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want the poor little guy to be upset with us.”
“Stop it,” Fiona said, as she inched forward.
“Fiona don’t,” Martin pleaded. There was a creeping note of panic in his voice.
For some reason though she couldn’t stop. There was no magical influence on her, just pity. Whatever this thing was, it was obvious that it was in a lot of pain. More pain than any living thing should be in.
When she was almost near enough to touch it the sewer-dweller leapt on her and sunk its teeth into her throat.
White hot pain seared through her body as she desperately rolled through the wet tunnel floor to try to thrust the beast off her. She was vaguely aware of Martin yelling in the background but mossy water had clogged her ears and the hissing beast was snarling in her face and gnashing its teeth while trying to win a second bite. She could feel blood from her wound weeping down her chest as she rolled and tumbled for her life.
She saw its fierce head rear back, and she knew this next blow might kill her. Fiona closed her fist in fearful anticipation, and found it wrapped around a rock. As the creature descended for her she was able to get place the stone between herself and certain death. She felt teeth scrape her knuckles as she managed to shove the stone in its mouth. Taking advantage of the momentary lapse in battle she kicked upwards to free herself from the foul thing, and placed her blade directly between its eyes.
It died with a screeching hiss.
Fiona collapsed.
“Fiona!” Martin ran towards her. He immediately ripped off a piece of his undershirt and and began to address her wound. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” he promised. She could barely hear him.
He kept pressure applied to the bandage while he began to sing, softly but with power.
In Asher Hall we worship no sire
Come gather round, there’s food by the fire
Break bread without dread, then a soft featherbed
For in Asher Hall we worship no sire
No masters no slaves, just sisters and brothers
Sweet music ringing for tender young lovers
No headsman I swear, shall come for your head
For in Asher Hall, we worship no sire
A ridiculous song by any standard, but it kept her conscious as the magic of his voice surged through her. When she had the strength she asked, “You know sound magic?”
“I picked up some, back when I lived beyond the city walls. They’d beat the tar out of me in the guard if they knew I still sung such things. I think that’s an old rebellion song, sung by healers during the Movement for Independence. I forgot some of the lyrics and had to fill in on the spot, but the power should still work as long as the rhyme pattern and melody are right.” He said all of that rather quickly, and Fiona was quite certain that if they weren’t surrounded by a red glow she would have seen him blushing.
Still, the magic had worked and she felt the wound completely covered, though still very raw to the touch.
“It looked worse than it was, I think. You’ll have a nasty scar on your neck, but you’ll be ok.”
“Thank you, Martin,” she said as she rose. “I’m going to owe you more than a few lives if we keep going at this rate.”
“If you feel the debts getting too great, by all means stop almost getting yourself killed,” Martin said with a grin.
She pushed him. “Asher Hall?” she mocked. “You’re a damn clown.”
Chapter Fifteen
They continued on for quite some time, sometimes moving downward, sometimes moving horizontally, but always moving with fear that another creature would show up. Martin started referring to it as a reeker and from there the name stuck. Fiona knew she wouldn’t hesitate if more reekers came back. Martin was definitely more exhausted than he let on from healing her. She knew he was no true soundmage, and the toll that using magic had cost his body was enormous.
As they descended farther and farther the air grew warm, and what was once a few scatterings of stray moss on the sides of the tunnels became full deathnectar plants, alive with their deadly violet bloom glowing in the sinister red light.
“They are beautiful,” Martin said, gesturing to the plants.
“Don’t get close, Martin,” Fiona said. She remembered her last encounter all too well, and she had no desire to see Martin have a similar experience. She had put the poor guy through enough as it was at this point.
Eventually the tunnel got so wide that it could hardly be called a tunnel anymore, and then wider still until they couldn’t even see the top of the sprawling lower caves they had entered. “It’ll be impossible to know at this rate whether there even are more descending paths to try and go on,” Fiona said.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore,” Martin replied. “Might be that all roads lead to the same path at this point. I’m sure Donyo would have told us if there was some problem we were going to encounter.”
“Maybe Donyo doesn’t know what happens this far down,” Fiona said. “I can’t imagine he built these parts of the sewers. Look, the walls are changing in texture. The stones are no longer smoothed or purposefully placed. Do you think this means we’re beneath even the sewers now?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I see a whole magic forest,” Martin said. “But then again, this may just be the start of it. Wait, do you hear that?”
Fiona drew her demon-pommel sword. It’s rippled steel drank the sinister red lights that surrounded them. “Reekers?”
“No, no. I thought it was running water, but…listen.”
They briefly paused, and then she did hear it. A faint humming, almost like a bell ringing. It sounded very distant. For a brief moment Fiona had a horrible vision of Lawrence Downcastle singing high above them, weaving a terrible spell that would seal off all escape and entomb them in this hellish maze forever. She decided not to share that thought with Martin.
“I hear it, but I don’t know what it is,” she said.
“Neither do I, but maybe it means we’re getting closer.”
“Here’s to hoping.” With no other obvious options available to them the duo continued to walk on.
Walking next to Martin, Fiona began to wonder what his life had been like. They were only children the last time they had spent any meaningful time together, aside from their brief walk through the Leaf District together. He still had the look of a boy in some respects, his fat lips, lanky body, and the wisp of a mustache more reminiscent of adolescence than adulthood. But there was more. There were muscles now, clearly visible underneath his tight-fitting clothes, and he was so much taller than her too. There could be no doubt that Martin Lightwing had grown up.
“You know I just had a funny memory,” Martin said.
“Oh yeah?”
“From when we were kids. Way back, when your parents were alive. I tried to gather honey from your father’s bees once.”
“I don’t remember that,” Fiona said.
Martin smiled. “I took great pains to make sure you wouldn’t find out. Well, needless to say it didn’t end well. I was stung about twenty times and my face blew up like a pufferfish. When your father was certain I wasn’t going to die I thought he might kill me. ‘Martin Lightwing!’ he said. ‘Should be Martin Lightbrains! Trying to gather honey from a skep like a damn bear. Did you try to use any proper smoke or a magic song, or did you think we just stuck our faces in and scarfed it up.’” Martin l
aughed merrily.
Fiona laughed too. Her father had been a kindly man as far as she could remember, but he was an absolute terror if you went and got yourself caught amongst his honeybees.
“Well I’m sure you learned a valuable lesson about proper beekeeping safety,” Fiona laughed.
“Well, important as that is, I didn’t do it to learn about safety. I did it to impress you.”
“Impress me? Why would you need to do that?”
“Oh, I just heard you saying how dangerous they were and how someone with real courage could navigate the hives.”
“Is that so? And is that why you joined the city guard? So you could impress some maiden with your demonstration of real courage?”
“Actually, I joined the city guard because I just didn’t know what else to do, truth be told.”
His abrupt honesty caught her somewhat off-guard.
“Bright guy like you has plenty of options, I’m sure,” she finally managed.
“Not really, Fiona. I had no trade. As much as I loved books I saw no way for them to earn me a day’s pay. As much as I loved music I knew they would never let a peasant like me become a soundmage. I could’ve tried to take up some trade, but to dedicate a decade of my life as a lowly apprentice to in all likelihood find myself in a position where I can’t make a decent living…it just seemed like the only option.”
“You could be a hedge knight,” Fiona suggested. “Travel the world, live by the sword.”
“Probably die from the black pox or some cutthroats dagger. Besides, Haygarden is home. I haven’t got much desire to leave.”
“Well, do you like it at least? Serving in the city guard?”
“Some. It’s a bit lonely, I don’t have too much in common with the other lads. Only now…”