by Greg Curtis
Briagh did wonder why the temple had a secret entrance. It didn't seem like a priestly thing to have, after all. Maybe when he got back he would ask the priest. Then again he'd probably be so grateful to have returned that he would forget all about his questions.
A sound abruptly distracted him from his musings. Briagh turned to see a stream of ripples heading his way at speed, followed by a huge long snout full of crooked teeth that burst from the river and launched itself at him at frightening speed.
Briagh leapt into the air in shock, and the move probably saved his life. Having leapt so suddenly, the creature missed him. Instead it's head smashed brutally into the brick wall behind where he'd just been standing. Its jaws smashed shut with a deafening click, before it slid back into the dark water and vanished.
Was it gone? He didn't know. He couldn't see it. He couldn't even see any ripples in the water. And surely it had to have been hurt by that brutal impact with the brick wall. But still he didn't dare look too closely into the dark water. Instead for the longest time Briagh stood there, heart pounding furiously in his chest, wondering if he'd actually seen what he'd just seen.
A crocodile, twenty feet long at least, had just launched itself out of the foetid water, up three feet to the path, and had then tried to take him! He'd heard rumours that there were such creatures in the sewers. But he'd never believed them. He had always thought they were just the tales bards spun for coin. But as the ripples slowly disappeared in the water as the creature swam away, he now knew they were real. Tales didn't leave dents in solid brick walls.
Obviously the bombs hadn't killed everything below. Maybe it had been in another part of the sewers when the bombs had gone off? Though that didn't explain how it could choke down the air. Still, all that mattered was that the creature wouldn't attack again. Hopefully it was now nursing a sore snout from the impact with the wall and would look for easier prey. But that didn’t mean there weren’t others.
Wolves, soldiers and now crocodiles! It just didn't seem fair. Still, there was nothing Briagh could do except carry on. He was much closer by then to the temple than the exit.
The little round “chamber” Father Argen had told him about proved in fact to be a walled off section of tunnel. Someone had obviously planned on building an extension tunnel and then stopped for some reason. But apart from having a flat straight end, it was exactly as the priest had described it. It had white bricks for some reason instead of red, and a small rusty steel bridge crossed the channel. He was glad of that. The last thing Briagh wanted to do was to put his feet anywhere near the water. Not when he knew what might be swimming in it.
Quickly Briagh located the door. But though easy to find, it proved difficult to open. It was dented and buckled and pieces of the concrete lintel above it had collapsed, blocking the door. Briagh shifted into his human form to pull them away one by one and toss them into the water. But even after doing so the door still wouldn’t open more than a crack. The hinges were filled with rust and dust from the bricks; every ear splitting inch he managed to pry it open cost him all the strength he had.
Suddenly he heard a scream, a sound neither human nor animal, and then a soldier smashed into the door from the other side. Briagh saw the impact as the man hit it. It also managed to open the huge rusting iron door a few more inches. Then he saw the claws on the end of the man's hand when he thrust it though the gap as he desperately tried to grab him.
Briagh leapt backwards, away from those claws, as the man continued his crazed assault on the door, and quickly transformed back into the shape of a panther. If he had to fight he would need the speed, claws and night vision of the big cat, not to mention its strength. And it looked like he was going to have to fight.
The man continued to leap at the door, screaming something unintelligible as he did so. In fact, he was hurling himself at it with all the strength he had, his armour smashing into the heavy iron again and again. Little by little Briagh could see that the door was opening. And as it did Briagh became aware that there was more than one man wolf creature. Because even as the first tried desperately to squeeze himself through the gap to reach him, another was smashing into the door behind him.
That though was a good thing in a way. It meant that the door was actually opening, even if it also meant he was going to have to fight two half transformed, crazed soldiers. But Briagh didn’t have the time to worry about that as the door creaked open another fraction of an inch and the first man finally managed to squeeze his way through the gap.
Briagh roared at the man as he stepped onto the path, instinctively warning him to back away. It meant nothing to the crazed soldier who screamed and snarled back as he leapt for him, arms outstretched. That was his mistake. Briagh simply squeezed in tight against the wall, and then nudged the man off the narrow path and into the water as he all but flew past.
The man fell, still snarling. Snarls that soon became screams and gasps as he struggled in the water. His armour was weighing him down and it seemed he didn't have the wit to take it off. Instead, he kept struggling wildly, all but lost in his panic. Eventually the current would take him away. Briagh could only hope that it was into the waiting jaws of the crocodile.
But even as the first soldier fell into the river, the second started squeezing through the gap in the door and he could just make out a third behind him. Neither of them seemed concerned about the fate of their comrade, or anything else. They were intent only on their prey.
Briagh decided to help the second man along when he got stuck half way through the door, and leapt on top of him. Using his muzzle he grabbed the soldier’s leather and chain armour, and pulled him the rest of the way through, before dumping him unceremoniously on the path and rolling him into the water. He too hit with a splash before snarling and screaming like a wild animal who was drowning. By then the current had sent the first solider well down the river and he hoped his companion would soon follow.
The third man was larger. Too big to get through the gap, and so he kept launching himself at the door, widening it little by little as Briagh waited patiently. But eventually he too made it through and then leapt at him – only to follow the others into the water.
After that there was silence. A long silence. The only sound Briagh could hear was his own breathing and the thumping of his heart in his chest.
He'd survived! Eventually that understanding sank into his somewhat stunned brain. He'd beaten three soldiers and survived! He thought he should be happy about that. But he couldn’t be because he also knew that he had just killed three men – even if they were on the path to becoming something else. He'd never killed anyone before. Should he feel relieved? Victorious? Or guilty and ashamed? He didn’t know. And besides, he was a thief. He didn't fight! If he got into a fight it meant he'd failed. He hadn't been stealthy or quick enough. Fighting was for stupid people. Truthfully he thought he felt all of those things.
Resolutely Briagh set his thoughts aside. He had a job to do. Father Argen and Captain Hillaren had sent him in here with a purpose. To save the priests if they were still alive. To find the notes on the globe. And to escort them out of the city through the sewers. Now that Briagh was here and the soldiers were dead, he had to go through with the rest of it. So he padded back to the door, listened carefully for a moment and then risked putting his head through the gap.
The temple was a mess. That was his first thought when he saw the stairs leading up to the basement, all of them covered in debris. It obviously hadn't come completely crashing down – Father Argen had said it had been built exceptionally well – but parts of it had.
Briagh let out a roar, hoping to find out if there were any more of the soldiers inside. Then he waited quietly, listening for any sort of response. The one thing he was sure of was that if there were any wolves or soldiers close by, they would have come for him. It was what they did. But there was nothing. Not even when he roared a few more times for good measure. Of course he realised, they could simply be out of
earshot.
When no one answered him and he was finally feeling a little calmer, he slipped the rest of the way through the door. It was easier as a panther to get through the gap because he was more flexible, and because he wasn't wearing armour. Then once he was inside he padded up the stairs to the basement and looked around.
It looked much like any other basement he thought. It was a large underground space with solid brick walls and heavy columns dotted around to support the ceiling. What little light there was came from some casement windows high up on the walls, but that was still better than what there had been in the sewers. Unfortunately the notes weren’t here. Neither were the priests. Then again, he had always expected the notes would be with the priests in the temple above, rather than stored in the basement below. Still, the basement did have a few things he could use.
For a start there were weapons. Swords and shields, lying on the floor where they had been discarded. The soldiers had obviously forgotten how to use them as they'd begun their transformation and had discarded them. The weapons were no use to him of course, but the simple fact that they weren't in the hands of the soldiers was. There was food too. Barrels filled with salted and pickled fish, and a larder filled with what was now very mouldy bread. Other barrels looked to be filled with ales and wines. The priests it seemed ate simply, but they drank to make up for it. He'd always suspected that. There had to be a reason the priests were usually so happy.
But more importantly there was clothing. Obviously the priests used the basement as some sort of laundry drying room, and so there were lines covered with priestly robes. If he needed to wander around in his human form, the robes would be useful. For the moment though, he didn't want to do that. He was faster as a cat. Safer too.
Another flight of stairs brought him up to the main floor and the temple itself. This was the part that the public was familiar with. The grand vaulted chamber with its altar at one end and the huge windows filled with stained glass. But it didn't look as grand as he remembered. One end of the temple had collapsed completely and all he could see was rubble. Bricks and timbers had piled up haphazardly on top of one another and were now covered in thick dust. That was sad. This had once been the main entrance through which followers would enter and then take their seats in the pews. No more people would be coming through those doors he guessed.
The windows were smashed too, which was a shame. Each of them had been twenty feet high and filled with glorious images of the Great Sage as he had wandered the world preaching his wisdom. Now those windows had been reduced to piles of coloured glass. Since then someone had made barricades out of the pews. Those inside the temple had obviously sought safety here from whatever was outside. Not all of them had found it though. There were bodies scattered around the floor, and some of them looked to have been eaten. Briagh didn't want to think about who had eaten them even though he knew the answer. Whatever the transformation was that these people went through, it left them with the minds of animals as well as the bodies.
It was the other end of the temple where the people came to worship. that concerned him though. The building was in two halves. One end was the entrance and the pews. The other was the temple where the people came to worship. And behind it were the priests' quarters. Briagh padded up to the altar and then behind it to where he could see heavy velvet curtains hanging down. They hid the entrance to the living quarters where the priests resided. And it was there that Briagh knew what he had been sent for would be found.
Briagh padded cautiously past the altar and then through the heavy drapes until he found the door leading to the living quarters. A heavy oak door with massive iron hinges that looked like it belonged on a fort. He shifted and turned the handle. Nothing happened. The door was locked.
Unfortunately, it was far too heavy to simply break down. Not without an axe. But if he did he had to wonder what he would find on the other side. A priest? Barbarian soldiers? Or more wolves?
Briagh tried the door again, turning the handle several times and yanking on the door as hard as he could, hoping against hope that it was just stuck. But it didn't budge and he started to search for things that would help him break it down.
“Go away!”
A woman's voice came unexpectedly from the other side and Briagh turned back to the door. He hadn't expected that. And yet he should have. From the number of refugees they had met travelling here, it was clear that some people had survived. Apparently not all had left.
Who's that?” he yelled back, guessing his voice would be just as muffled by the door as hers.
“You can speak!” She sounded surprised.
“Of course I can speak! And I can also turn door handles and know that the door has been locked! Now would you open the door please.” He was perhaps a touch more strident than he should be, but Briagh figured that was only to be expected.
“Where are the others? Have you been bitten?” The woman made no attempt to unlock the door.
“No I haven't been bitten. And the three partly transformed soldiers who were here are off swimming in the sewers somewhere. Father Argen sent me.” He thought for a moment about telling her that he didn't need to fear being bitten. Father Argen had told him that he didn't think morphs had to worry about the curse since they could already shift. But then he guessed that that would only scare her. And she already had enough to be scared about.
“I'll go get the others. They're sleeping.”
With that she was gone. At least Briagh assumed she was gone. He didn't try yelling at the door to find out, but waited patiently until he heard the sound of footsteps return. And then a man's voice.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Briagh. And Father Argen sent me here to escort some priests out of the temple along with some papers from his room. Are you one of the priests?”
“Father Parris. What papers?”
“They're to do with the globe that was stolen from the Arcanium. Father Argen says it’s something to do with Morphia's Kiss, and that with the papers and the globe he may be able to help the princes. Do you have them?” He thought he should ask since that was the entire point of his coming here.
“We have the papers.” With that he heard the sound of a key turning in a lock and then the heavy door swung open. Behind it he could see a man and the girl who he had obviously just been speaking to earlier.
“You're naked!” The man stared at Briagh.
“And you're not blind!” he snapped back. “Of course I'm naked. I'm a morph. Who else could make his way safely through a ruined city filled with wolves and transforming soldiers?” But he was actually annoyed that he hadn't considered going downstairs for some clothes. It was just that he was naked so often he kept forgetting about it. And he was surprised that he could yell out his secret at the man. He never willingly told anyone. But he was tense and he had been around the fae for too long. And quite probably around Father Argen too long as well.
“We should go.” Briagh decided to turn to more practical matters. “Get everyone up and ready, grab the papers, and I'll lead you back through the sewers to where Father Argen is waiting with a patrol of rangers.”
“Rangers?”
“From Wynde Par,” Briagh clarified things, annoyed with himself for having forgotten that he would have to. He kept making mistakes lately. “How many of you are there?”
“Thirty some. I haven't counted. People took shelter here after the city exploded and the wolves started prowling the streets.”
Thirty? Briagh hadn't expected such a number. Yet it made sense that people would seek shelter in the various temples. Maybe the others were full too? Not that he could get to them. “Fine. Get them together and bring them down to the basement. There's some clothes, food and weapons down there.”
“The door to the sewer is blocked.” The girl spoke up, her eyes wide with shock. She was very young and obviously not used to seeing naked men. Or morphs.
“It was. Not anymore. If any of you want to leave th
e city I'll meet you down there.” With that he turned around, shifted back into his panther form so there could be no doubting what he was – the last thing he needed was people screaming and running in fear, or worse attacking him – and padded off back to the basement. It was best he decided if they weren't caught by surprise by his nature. Especially if they were armed as some of them no doubt would be shortly.
After that things went mostly as Briagh hoped for. The people met him in the basement as asked, some of them looking a little the worse for wear, and he had to widen the opening in the door a little more to accommodate those on the more rotund side. But they seemed happy to wait while he scraped away more of the sand and grit that was blocking the door, and spent the time eating and drinking. None of them said anything about his being a morph, though most of them stared suspiciously at him. Perhaps after all they'd been through he wasn't the most frightening thing around? Certainly not the most dangerous monster.