Long, Dark Road

by Bianculli, Susan

  Quorik glared at me and casually backhanded me. I cringed away after the blow, holding my cheek.

  “You should not dare to question me. You are my captive, and as such are not worth speaking to. But for the sake of the bravery that you all showed during the fight with the Cave Bear, I will answer.” He paused for a moment as if to weigh his words. “Knowing that at least two of you can commit abomination, as well as all of you being Abominations in the first place, warrants the isolation cells so that you cannot threaten or contaminate our populace before you are brought for judgment.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Dusk asked with concern in his voice which I knew was for Auraus, whose grey eyes were growing wild again.

  “Enough!” Quorik said sharply. “I will not be continually questioned! I do not know how you Surfacers act with your prisoners, but down here you will be quiet! Now move!”

  He drew his sword. The other two scouts drew theirs as well. Quorik waved his weapon off to the left and Auraus tried to run again. Quorik, with an angry huff, ordered his two scouts to trip and hold her down. He then loaded another quarrel into his wrist crossbow, and shot her at point blank range. Auraus went unconscious almost instantly. He looked over at Jason, weapon raised, and Jason gave a slight shake of his head as if saying he wasn’t planning on making any such trouble that would make Quorik shoot him.

  “Auraus!” yelled Dusk meanwhile, clearly wanting to rush over to her but stopped by the drawn swords of the Under-elves.

  “What have you done to her?” I demanded while Heather looked on in shocked silence.

  Ragar, furry ears going flat on his head, snarled menacingly, “There will be blood to pay if you have killed the Wind-rider.”

  “Silence!” the Sub-leader said in sharp annoyance to us. “It is only the same sleep poison used on him,” he said, waving his hand at Jason. “She will wake up in a darkening’s time, and by then you all will have been processed and be off my hands. Cease your noises, else we will attract attention from other dranth riders which will make my getting rid of you a longer process than needs be.”

  “Ah! Surfacers? Quorik, you have been lucky this patrol! Will you be selling any of those, or are you keeping them for yourself?” came a new voice.

  Quorik closed his eyes in annoyance.

  “I have not done an art piece in a long while, and I would like to try my hand at something new I have dreamed up,” the voice continued.

  The speaker who came into sight out of one of the dranth stalls was the first old Under-elf I’d ever seen. She had actual wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. The clothes she wore weren’t much different than what Quorik wore, so either she really hadn’t wanted to move up the ranks or didn’t have the talent to do so.

  “No, I cannot,” Quorik told her, opening his eyes and sounding patiently regretful. “These are slated for the isolation cells and then the Grand Council.”

  The old female came and looked us over like we were cuts of meat at a New York butcher shop. “They look like they are all Abominations. How can that be? Has the Surface world been so tainted by abomination that there is no more pure stock up there anymore?” she asked.

  Quorik shrugged. “I do not know and do not care.”

  “But is that truly the responsibility of the Grand Council to rule on Abominations like these? Better to just get rid of them,” she suggested, “and not bother the councilors.”

  “You know the laws as well as I, and in any case it is not my place to decide whether to adhere to the Charter or not,” Quorik said, annoyance creeping into his tone. “Now if you will excuse me, I have orders to follow.”

  Quorik detailed the scouts to pick up the unconscious body of Auraus and throw her over his shoulder, then motioned with his sword to the rest of us to start walking to the left. My earlier suspicions of each Under-elven city being identical seemed to be true. We passed the Allocations area where the military kept its supplies, and then the entrance to the living area part of the Military Ring. But we didn’t enter the hallway. From there we continued on along the natural cavern wall towards the entrance to the next cavern. We hadn’t gotten to see what had been in the cave next to the Chirasnivian training grounds, but this one was definitely different than the training grounds in both city-states. I blinked when we entered due to the bright light here—equivalent to an early sunrise—instead of the perpetual dim of twilight that was usual in an Under-elven city-state.

  It was a much smaller, but still high-ceilinged, natural cavern. The luminescent lichen was more liberally mixed with the white air moss here, but both were especially thick in this cavern. They went all the way up the walls to cover the ceiling as well, blurring the hard brown and grey stones into a softer outline. A large stone fence with gates that could open at either end surrounding a compact dirt floor, as opposed to a rocky floor like everywhere else, created an area like a Renn Faire jousting field. Tellingly, the earth was turned over here and there inside the fence as if dranth claws had been scuffling around on it. I noticed that the light lichen was also encouraged to grow on the stone fences surrounding the ring, making the field of combat extra bright. As we walked through this place, I watched the faces of Quorik and his two scouts wince at the heightened light level, and I remembered from my last trip underground how much trouble Under-elves in general usually had with illumination. It made me wonder if Arghen and his dranth Stalker had trained in his home city-state of Relkanav in some place like this since both were better able to handle the light of the Surface world, at least in part. I would have to remember to ask him about that when we rescued him. Because we just had to be successful in doing that. I would accept no other outcome.

  “What is this place?” Heather wondered out loud, craning her neck to look around.

  “It looks like an arena of some kind. Maybe for sports or something?” Jason hazarded.

  A glare over his shoulder from Quorik quieted both Heather and Jason. In silence we marched through the jousting cave and out the exit on the other side into a narrower cave with entrances cut into the rock side opposite from the walls that bordered the living area rings. It was towards one of these outer wall entrances that we were steered, which turned into a rough cut corridor. The mercifully short passageway emptied out into a room that had three doors leading off it. In the center was a stone desk table kind of like the one we’d seen in the Exchange where the Surfacers had been imprisoned back in Chirasniv. On the stone desk sat a small pile of parchment, a quill and ink pot, and a small brass bowl seated on a small reddish cushion with a short, slender rod in it. Behind the desk in a plain chair made up of what I would swear was a huge mushroom stalk sat a plain, bored looking Under-elf. He perked up noticeably when we came in, letting me see a military insignia at the neck of his simple washed-out blue tunic that I didn’t recognize.

  “Wonderful!” he said with eagerness, amber eyes brightening. At Quorik’s raised eyebrow he amended it to, “Uh, hello, Sub-leader. What is your purpose here today?” He still couldn’t quite squelch the excited tone.

  Quorik gestured to us. “These Surfacers need to be put in the isolation cells until the Grand Council convenes, Coordinator Havel.”

  The desk Under-elf’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. “Grand Council?” he said, looking curiously at us.

  “Abominations.”

  “Don’t forget the Conductivus,” I said, interjecting.

  Havel, behind the desk, gasped, “You can’t bother the Conductivus!”

  “Oh yes I can,” I replied as steadily as I could. “The Conductivus is going to want to speak to me.”

  Quorik frowned sourly at me, as if he’d wished I’d not brought that up. That made me wonder if the Sub-leader had been planning on leaving out the wild-card Under-elf.

  Dusk spoke up. “We have been told that since we have asked for the Conductivus to be involved with us, that he will be informed. Is there some sort of form or procedure that needs to be completed, or will a messenger be sent
directly to him?”

  The Coordinator behind the desk looked sour at the question. “There is a procedure ….” he began.

  “… which will be attended to,” Quorik broke in over Havel as he looked Dusk squarely in the eye. “The Conductivus will be present.”

  I didn’t say anything, not wanting to indicate my mistrust. My feelings must have been on my face, though, because Quorik became affronted.

  “Souls-be-damned-you!” the Sub-leader roared at me, pink rushing into his pale cheeks. “I said it will happen, and so it will!”

  Havel gasped, although the two scouts accompanying us didn’t register any emotion at his swear.

  Quorik spun back to Havel. “Coordinator!” he barked. “Get these Surfacers taken care of right away before the Grand Council. I do not doubt it will be quite soon when word of these Abominations gets through the proper channels and through the channels of common gossip. Be warned. The one with wings has proved that she can cast abomination. Also, the sickly-looking Surface-elf with the curly brown hair seems to be able to handle abomination as well. Do not unbind them.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Jason began, but Havel ignored him by picking up the stick and hitting the side of the bowl, making it ring with a bell-like tone loudly.

  The door immediately behind the desk opened, and a guard stuck her head out. “Yes, Coordinator?” she asked.

  “Surfacers for us,” he replied.

  She straightened up with enthusiasm. “Really?” she said, unable to stop herself from saying it even as she spied us standing on the other side of the desk. “Warriors, front and center—we have something to do!” she called back happily over her shoulder into the room.

  “Warriors?” Heather asked me.

  “They use the word ‘warriors’ down here like we use the word ‘soldiers’ back home,” I explained quickly.

  Meanwhile, the female Under-elf and two other guards hurriedly came out around the desk. The biggest one took the unconscious Wind-rider into his arms from the scout carrying her over his shoulder, while Havel directed his two companions to take possession of the rest of us from the Duty Scouts.

  “Processing will now begin,” said the Coordinator with a happy smile.

  Chapter 17

  First, Coordinator Havel had Ragar, Jason, Auraus, Heather, Dusk, and myself stripped of all possessions on us by Quorik’s scouts. I flinched a little as the belt box containing the dragon scale was removed from my belt. But as soon as the pouch and everything else was taken out of the room, I felt a lump appear inside my boot that felt about the size of a small teacup saucer.

  Frelanfur’s scale! I thought, relieved, but kept quiet about it. It was good to have a hold-out the Under-elves didn’t know about.

  Havel then started questioning us as to who we were and to get us to admit to being Abominations. We refused to answer his questions designed to damn us, and eventually he gave up trying.

  “Thank you for staying under such trying circumstances, Sub-leader,” Havel said sourly to Quorik. “You may go.”

  Before Quorik and his scouts had even left the room, the Coordinator had his Under-elf guards march us through the door to the right of the stone desk.

  “Lise?” Ragar asked me with rising inflection as one by one he, I, Dusk, Heather, and Jason were ushered into the next room following the guard who now carried Auraus.

  I knew what he wanted—that we surprise these guards and escape. But not only had our packs with our disguises, weapons, and the makeup been left with the dranth of the Duty Scouts, there was literally no place for us to go with Auraus still unconscious and Jason trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I knew Dusk would never leave Auraus, and frankly, I couldn’t leave Jason. But besides all that, if we did fight and get ourselves free, we wouldn’t get to meet the Conductivus, which was my whole reason for not fighting with the Duty Scouts in the first place. To escape now was stupid.

  I shook my head. Ragar’s green cat-pupiled eyes turned angry, and then the door closed behind us. I looked around where we were instead. This was another grey-ish brown stone room crudely hewn into a square-ish shape. Six opened doors, two to a wall, revealed large holes cut into the wall that would be sealed when the doors were shut, making this place a jail cell block. I noted, worryingly, that the air moss and the light lichen adorning the walls in here were a lot less than what I had encountered in the various rooms I’d seen in Chirasniv.

  “I will not be caged again!” snarled Ragar, neck fur hackling. “This has gone on long enough!” He swung his bound fisted hands at the temples of the head of the unprepared Under-elf beside him and felled him with a lucky blow.

  “Attack!” cried Havel, who did not pull out a weapon himself but raced to the door to get away from us. “Reinforcements! Reinforcements!” he shouted as he got it open and ran out of the room.

  The warrior carrying Auraus dropped her unceremoniously to the floor to quick draw his blade.

  “Stop!” I screamed loudly, throwing myself in front of Ragar. “No fighting! No fighting!”

  Ragar, who’d lunged at the female guard despite the weapon she now bore, tried to check himself but couldn’t quite stop his swing. He clipped me across the chin with both hands. Pain exploded at the point of impact, and I was knocked to the floor.

  “Ragar, stop!” shrieked Heather.

  Ragar stood stalk still, eyes wide as he took in what he’d done. “Lise, I am so sorry! I did not mean to hit you!”

  I struggled to regain my feet, finding it a little harder to breathe now. Fortunately nothing else had happened after I’d gotten knocked to the ground—the Coordinator was nowhere to be found; the male warrior was still unconscious on the floor. The other male was standing in front of Auraus’ still unconscious body, and the female warrior stood near him defensively, both still with their swords drawn. My eyes swept my party: Heather and Dusk stood on either side of Jason, keeping him as safe as they could. Dusk glared at Ragar, while Heather gave the mountain-cat-elf reproachful looks. Thankfully, Ragar still stood without moving, a chagrinned look of sorrow mixed with embarrassment now on his face. He could not meet my eyes. I went over and kicked him in the shins.

  “Ow!” he roared in surprise as he looked at me in shock.

  “You idiot!” I stormed at him, still trying to catch my breath. “I get that you don’t like being caged. No one in their right mind does! And I’m sorry that you’ve been caged in the past, and that we’re going to be caged now. But it won’t be for long because the Conductivus will see to that, which is what I’ve been saying all along! So please work with me to get that to happen!”

  The whiskers around his muzzle drooped, as did his tail. “Sorry, Lise,” he muttered.

  “Thank you!” I said sharply, though in a calmer tone than before. Turning to the warriors who’d been watching us in confusion and disbelief, I plastered a fake smile on my face and said while trying to catch my breath, “I promise there will be no more trouble. But can you please answer how long it will be before we are released for the Grand Council meeting, or whatever it’s called? It will go a long way to relieving the concerns of my friend here.”

  The two Under-elves exchanged glances. They were panting a little, too. “It–it all depends,” said the female cautiously. “You Surfacers certainly were not brought here inconspicuously, so before long all of Kelsavax will know of your presence. And since you are charged with abomination, events will move quickly. The charge of abomination is not something that has been heard of since my forefathers’ time. It is a serious one.”

  “You–you are not going to do any abominations to us, are you? I have a long-mate and little ones at home!” said the other one, gripping his sword a little tighter.

  I was about to explain to the male warrior that we weren’t going do anything that would affect his wife and kids when the door behind us banged open. We spun around to see Havel, backed by several more Under-elves warriors, standing in the doorway. When he did not see any blood and c
arnage in the room, the superior look that had been on his face disappeared.

  “All right, warriors, put these Surfacer Abominations in their places!” he ordered in an angry, halting voice.

  The warriors shouldered past him into the room. I held up my still tied hands towards the newcomers, fore fingers extended in a silent request to wait, as I backed away from the door. The two warriors assigned here moved aside to let me past.

  “No need,” I said to the new arrivals. “Just a little misunderstanding has happened here. We will go quietly into our cells now.” I looked over my shoulder at Ragar and pinned him with a glare. “Won’t we?” I said acidly.

  The mountain-cat-elf, his long thin tongue lolling out of his mouth a little as he panted, looked sulkily at the nearly doubled amount of guards. He turned to crawl up into one of the cell holes without a sound. Auraus, still unconscious, was stuffed rather unceremoniously into her cell by the warrior who’d been carrying her. The rest of us awkwardly, because of our still bound hands, did the same. This left the Coordinator to look nonplussed as the regularly assigned cell block guards one by one shut the doors to our holes, imprisoning us. The extra warriors, annoyed that they hadn’t been needed after all, stomped out while muttering things I couldn’t hear but which made Havel go red in the face and a smirk cross Dusk’s lips. The warriors who worked with Havel, I noted, also smirked at whatever had been said but were careful to keep their reactions away from the Coordinator’s sight. When the retreating footsteps could no longer be heard echoing down the corridor leading out, Havel whirled to face us. If looks could have killed, each of us would have been a corpse right then.