“Have me made fun of, will you?” he raged, taking in huge gasping breaths. “Make me look bad to the reinforcements, will you? I will see you pay for this!” He looked sharply at his Under-elves. “You two! Pick that lump up off the floor and get him to the healing wards!”
The Coordinator exited the cell block, slamming the door behind him so hard that it bounced open again. The male and female warriors shrugged, picked up their still unconscious comrade between them, and left more quietly than their boss had. In the silence after their exit, I yawned a jaw-cracking yawn. My second wind was running out of gas. I heard yawns coming from at least three other cells as well.
Dusk said, “That could have gone better.”
“No, really?” asked Heather sarcastically.
I blinked in my cell. Heather, for the first time, had said something against an action of Ragar, or so it seemed to me. Well, okay, maybe not directly, but still. Wow.
“Hey, does anybody else feel like there isn’t enough air in here?” Jason called out form his hole, changing the subject.
I blinked. Of course! I wasn’t panting and yawning because I was over tired, it was because I wasn’t getting enough oxygen!
Dusk said, “I am guessing that to keep their prisoners more docile, they use less air moss than usual in the cells. People who are gasping for air eventually will not be in much of a fighting mood. Effective, and prudent on their part. I suggest that everyone settle down and conserve your strength. Sleep, if you can.”
That sounded like excellent advice, especially since my eyes were already trying to close on me. I made myself comfortable against the curvature of the hole and dropped off to sleep almost instantly.
Chapter 18
I awoke to the feel of hands on me shaking me roughly.
“Get out,” said a vaguely familiar, sharp tenor voice.
I blearily went to support myself with my hands to get up and remembered the hard way that my wrists were still tied. I slipped and bruised my cheek on the curve of the cell hole.
“Come on,” said the voice, growing impatient at my fumbling to get myself up.
Blinking my eyes clear, I saw the Coordinator standing at the cell door which was held open by one of the cell block guards. The number of warriors present seemed to have increased in here since I was last awake. I scooted on my bottom to the entrance and slid wobbily to my feet into the jail room. I apparently was the last to have been gotten up: Ragar, Dusk, Jason, Heather and, surprisingly, Auraus, were already standing in the room. I didn’t know about them but my head felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool. I saw that Auraus and Jason were still as stringently tied up as before.
Dusk said before I could ask, “While we are being moved, the Under-elves are taking no chances with Auraus and Jason because of their ability to commit abomination.”
“But …,” I started to say.
Havel cut me off. “Silence! Prisoners are not to speak!”
I glared at him through the fog I still felt, which was probably from lack of enough oxygen. At my look of insubordination he raised a finger threateningly at me.
“I do not have to present you to the Grand Council completely whole, Abomination. I can always say that you tried something on me at the last minute, and it would be the word of an Abomination against mine. And I think you are smart enough to know who would be believed,” he said in a nasty voice that was nevertheless starting to gasp a little at the edges.
I didn’t say anything—not because of his threat but because he’d answered what I’d wanted to know, which was where we were going. Or at least, sort of answered it, anyway. I stuck my tongue out at him. It made me feel better. The six of us Surfacers were herded into a line, and each of us was given a guard to grip our elbows to guide us along. Jason and Auraus, however, were given one on each side. The Coordinator self-importantly led our small parade out of the jail caves. I took in a big, welcome breath of oxygen as we entered the main cavern outside the cell block area. The influx of fresh air surprisingly didn’t chase away the cobwebs still in my head, though I did feel more like myself. Unfortunately, with the awakening of my body my stomach growled loudly, and hunger started picking at me. I knew better than to ask for anything to eat, though, and followed the guards as they wound through the cavern to an entrance into the Military Ring. The corridor had been cleared for our passage, I guessed, because there were no Under-elves to be seen. We exited the Military Ring into what I privately called the “countryside,” the agricultural part of Kelsavax. There life seemed more normal because I could see pale grey-skinned Kobolds, green Troglodytes, and others tending the meat animals and working the mushroom and other crop farms that grew down here in the dark. We crossed into the Civilian Ring, and once again there were no Under-elves to be seen.
“We must be too dangerous to be allowed to come into contact with the general population, maybe?” Heather commented.
“We are,” growled Ragar in reply.
“Silence!” screamed Havel again. Their guards punched them in the ribs, and the two of them shut up.
We exited the Civilian Ring and entered the Parks and Recreation area, as I called it in my head, located between the Civilian Ring and the Leadership Ring. Once again, the place was eerily empty. I started to get creeped out, remembering how busy Chirasniv was and comparing it to how empty Kelsavax was.
It was the same for the Leadership Ring—no Under-elves were in evidence anywhere. It was like walking through a ghost town. When we got closer to Kelsavax’s Central Court, I became aware of a growing sound in the air and wondered what it could be. It sounded like water rushing in a stream or ocean waves breaking on a shore. We walked through the last tunnel that connected the Leadership Ring to Central Court.
Whoa, I gasped to myself when we entered the center of Kelsavax. Nerves made me forget my hunger, though they didn’t help my light-headedness.
The reason for both the emptiness of the city-state and the sounds I’d heard became clear—the entire population of Kelsavax, it seemed, was here. Under-elves old and young were seated in the stadium-like seats that surrounded Central Court, and the ocean sounds were actually the Under-elves murmuring among themselves. Or so I guessed, due to the unnerving fading that Under-elves tended to do at a distance. Heather inhaled sharply, opened her mouth to say something but then shut it as she eyed her guard warily. The spectators broke into louder mutterings at the sight of us, which pretty much confirmed my suspicions. It was rather intimidating to be the center of attention for so many eyes, at first, although Havel seemed to revel in it. It was kind of eerie to see the spectator Under-elves fade out of my view the further we got away from the stands as we were herded towards the stage-like area in the very center, though we could still hear them.
The stage, which I hadn’t been able to see up close in Chirasniv, was lighted with air-moss and luminescent lichen in fanciful designs on both the sides and on the flooring of the stage itself. The Coordinator led us up the stairs and directed our guards to stand us inside one of the larger cleared areas of flooring while he stood in a different one off to the side. Up here we found six Under-elves—three male and three female—seated in black, high backed chairs in two semi-circles facing each other. From their position on the stage I knew they had to be the councilors convened for the Grand Council who were going to decide our fate. They wore slender cut, identical robes of minimally decorated grey material which still managed to look expensive. Each seated Under-elf had a servitor behind him or her who stood next to a small table that had a piece of parchment, quill and ink, and curiously, two long rods on it. One rod was topped with a white quartz ball, and the other a black obsidian square. I gulped, but took heart from the dragon scale I could feel tucked into the side of my boot despite its uncomfortableness, and wondered when would be the best time to use it. I resolved that if we got out of this pickle I would introduce the concept of pockets to this world. After all, Auraus’ people already used them on their flying clothes, so wh
y couldn’t everybody else?
I looked at each of the Under-elves on the stage, and my heart suddenly dropped as I realized the Conductivus was not among them. Or at least I didn’t see anybody dressed in fluttering white robes like how the Conductivus in Chirasniv had dressed. In fact, it looked like he had not been invited at all because there was no seventh seat here. Of course I was just assuming there would be a chair for him, but it would have made sense if there were. Six Under-elves could deadlock, needing the speaker of souls to break a tie, right? So where was his place to sit?
“Where–?” I started to ask, wanting to know about the Conductivus, but a punch to the back of my head stopped me from finishing my question. I turned and glared indignantly at my guard, who’d hit me.
“Quiet before the councilors. Speak when spoken to, or we will make sure that you will not be able to speak again,” growled the Under-elf. “We will take no chances with any of you committing abomination.”
I saw him finger a thin, small, sharp dagger on his belt. I remembered Arghen’s casual willingness on our second trip to the keep to cut out the tongue of the Goblin so that he couldn’t betray us to Bascom. I gulped and shut my mouth as one of the councilors stood up. I guessed him to be the head of the council because he started proclaiming grandly and sweeping his arms in a theatrical way.
“Fellow Councilors, we are gathered here at this time in Grand Council to examine these Surfacers for the grave charge of abomination. In our forbearers’ times, when Under-elves quit the surface world to preserve ourselves, we also abandoned our reliance on,” he spat out the word, “magic.” He paused for a moment, and then continued on in his original tone, “We came down here and purified ourselves. It has been many, many cycles since abomination has dared to show its face down in our realm. It is our duty to examine these interlopers, determine if there is abomination, and determine if they are worthy enough of being remanded to the custody of Art or should face immediate termination if found abominable.”
Chapter 19
My eyes widened. How was being taken to Art be considered something worthy? I wondered. But, remembering that the half-life state was all the Under-elves had to look forward to after death made me realize that these Under-elves considered life under any circumstances better than dying. Then the second half of what he’d said hit me. Immediate termination? That wasn’t part of the bargain! How was this going to serve us getting Arghen out of Chirasniv, Frelanfur? I thought to myself frantically, hoping that directing my thoughts at the scale in my boot might activate it since I couldn’t blow on it like the dragon had instructed. Not surprisingly, nothing happened.
The Head councilor stopped speaking and motioned to a ring of Under-elves surrounding the stage dressed in grey tunic and hose who wore something that looked like a cheerleader’s megaphone on a cord around their necks. Somehow I’d missed them as we’d been ushered up the steps. These Under-elves turned and ran towards what looked like predetermined parts of the stadium seats surrounding Central Court, eventually vanishing from sight in the usual Under-elven way. I soon heard some indistinct words, and I guessed that they’d repeated the words the Head councilor had just said for the benefit of the crowds with their megaphones. The runners were back very quickly and took up their spots around the stage again. It was through this method—the Head of the council saying a few sentences and the runners relaying the words—that the story of our capture was told. I ground my teeth as he droned on and on. Finally he turned to us.
“As I say your name, nod your head silently so we know whom is whom,” he said, taking from his servitor an unrolled scroll. “Lise Baxter?”
I nodded. He made some notation with a quill on the scroll. He then called out the names for each of my companions who nodded each in turn. He made the same notation after each reply.
“Very good,” the Head councilor said officiously when he was done. “The Council will now address the twin charges of being Abominations and doing abomination.”
I opened my mouth to ask for the Conductivus, but the lifting of my guard’s hand stopped me.
The Head councilor looked at me. “You, the Surfacer known as ‘Lise.’ From our report it is said that you seem to be the leader of this motley assortment of beings. You are hereby given permission to answer only what is asked, and nothing more. Anything spoken in extra will be punishable by pain to both you and your compatriots. You will be given leave to speak something short afterwards only if you follow what I have stated. Nod if you understand.”
So this is where Bascom got his ‘obey me, and if you don’t, I’ll spread pain around’ attitude that Auraus mentioned. He learned it from them, I thought to myself as I ground my teeth. Since I didn’t want the others to suffer and since I’d been promised I could speak after this farce, I nodded my head, worsening my dizziness.
“How long have you been an Abomination?” he asked.
“I have never been one,” I replied shortly with as much politeness as I could manage.
“Do not try my patience!” he scoffed. “You look like a poor attempt at a Surface-elf. What were you before abomination twisted you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Considering I was born a human, I have always looked this way. I was just smaller to start out with.”
“You admit to being born this way?” the Head councilor started out in a pompous voice. “As an Abom–wait, did you say, ‘Human,’ Surfacer?” he ended in a shocked whisper.
The other councilors started up to their feet in astonishment, quickly bending their white haired heads together to murmur to each other as the relayers raced away with the startling revelation. As the news reached the stands, the upswelling of noise from the spectators became noticeable. The Head councilor clapped his hands, and the others of his rank stopped their mutterings and took their seats again. It took a few minutes, but the Under-elves in the stands eventually became quiet too, as the relayers eagerly took up their positions around the stage once again.
“I did say that word,” I said as clearly as I could when he looked at me for an answer.
The standing Under-elf squinted at Heather. “Is she a Human, too?”
I briefly thought about lying, but she spoke up herself.
“Yes!” Heather said with defiance. “And damn proud of it!”
Heather’s guard was clearly debating with herself whether punishment was needed, but as it was in direct answer to the question, she apparently let it go. The relayers turned to go, but the Head councilor held up a hand to stop them.
“Are there more humans among you?” he asked, eyeing Ragar doubtfully.
“There are.” I sighed and nodded towards Jason.
Murmurs passed among the councilors again.
“Anyone else?” the lead Under-elf demanded.
I shook my head ‘no,’ and another wave of dizziness hit me. The Head councilor waved the runners along, who took off and returned pretty fast.
“Incredible! Three Humans!” The Head councilor said with unbelieving glee, rubbing his pale hands together. He pointed to the guards holding Ragar and Auraus and said almost dismissively, “I hereby sentence the Surfacers called Auraus, Dusk, and Ragar to Art, as they have clearly been duped by these Humans and obviously been warped by proximity to them. Historically, Man has bent and warped the landscape to his use without thought for others. Who is to say that these three Humans have not done this to the three denizens of our world who have been forced into company with them? Those three Surfacers deserve to live a while longer. Hold the Surfacers from our world at the side of the platform until judgment is passed, so that they may see us dispense justice for them as well as for ourselves.”
“No!” snarled Ragar, and lunged forward in Heather’s direction, probably to try and protect her with his body.
The tips of several daggers and swords immediately interposed themselves between him and her, and the mountain-cat-elf managed to stop himself before being impaled on at least two of them. A warning slice was delivered to hi
s cheek, and red once again stained the black and tan fur of his face.
“But the one called Auraus and the one called Jason are charged with being able to do abominations as well as with being one,” objected one of the other councilors. “If we do as you say, she cannot go to Art. It would be too dangerous for the populace.”
“Hmmm. True,” said the Head Councilor thoughtfully. “But I am inclined to believe that it is the presence of the Humans who have done this to her—making her be able to perform abomination as well as being one. We can nullify her abilities ahead of time for Art, perhaps. If we remove her fingers and tongue before she is readied for an artist, that should make her safe enough, I would think. The others can go as they are.”
“Agreed,” said the councilor who’d voiced the objection.
“What! You can’t be serious!” I burst out, unable to contain myself as Ragar bared his fangs in a snarl.
My guard turned me to face him and sliced his blade across my forehead. It stung, and I flinched backwards. I shut my mouth, glaring at him and all the Under-elves on the stage before turning a seething look of hatred on the Head Councilor. I did, however, stay silent, feeling little rivulets of blood making their way down my face.
“Now that that has been settled, I hereby drop the original charges of Abomination, and doing abomination, against the ones called Lise, Heather, and Jason.”
I blinked and eyed him warily, sure he wasn’t done. And I was right; he wasn’t.
“These three, who have been revealed to be Humans, instead can stand for the Human race for capital crimes against Under-elven society!” he proclaimed expansively.
Heather’s, Jason’s, and my jaws all dropped open.
“What?” we all gasped together. Each of us was turned and cut on the face somewhere in retribution for our outburst.
“Cease your noises! Or you will be made tongueless next time!” the adjutant behind the Head councilor’s chair cried.
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