Rise of the Nightkings

by Levi Samuel

  Inspecting the beds, Inyalia noted the simple yet sturdy wooden frames. The mattresses were caked with dust but appeared remarkably well preserved considering how long they’d been here. Some were more plump than others, but that was pretty common with anything stuffed with down feathers. The real trick was going to be beating out the dust without tearing the thin fabric. But once a blanket or cloak was laid down, they’d serve as well as any tavern bed.

  Turning her attention to the other half of the room, Inyalia rounded the table, avoiding the fixed benches protruding from either side. She approached the fireplace and crouched to inspect it closer. It showed no sign of having been lit in quite some time. Any ash or charcoal that had remained had long since disappeared. A thick layer of ancient soot covered the inner walls and outer edges. Sticking her head into the hearth, Inyalia twisted to look up. She couldn’t see light, but the cold outside air assured her the chimney wasn’t clogged. That would have been her luck as of late.

  A gentle breeze pulled her attention from the fireplace. It wasn’t coming from the door, but rather the back side of the room. If she could find a way out, maybe they’d be able to make their way back to Caelum, provided it hadn’t suffered too much damage from the falling rocks.

  Reaching the end of the table, Inyalia was now able to see the outline of an opening. It turned, continuing left.

  Following it around she came to an intersection. The passage continued straight, but there was a closed door to her right. Wrapping her hand around her dagger, she pulled the bolt and pushed the door open.

  Inside was a small, simple chamber. She could have easily touched any of the walls or door from its center. A wooden bench with a fair-sized hole sat against the far wall. Though there was no chamber pot beneath it. She hadn’t expected to find an outhouse here, but it made sense. Even soldiers had to relieve themselves from time to time.

  Backing from the room, Inyalia bolted the door and continued down the hall. It led into another room with an iron gate on one wall, and an opening on another. Chunks of broken stone spilled from the opening. She could see from here there was no exploring that path. The ceiling had caved in, sealing it off. But she could still feel the breeze. It had to be coming from the other side of the gate.

  The bars had rusted some time ago, but they appeared strong. And fortunately, it wasn’t latched. Inyalia approached and grabbed hold of the door. Giving a sturdy yank, it groaned, and the rusted hinges popped free. Inyalia pulled it open and stepped into a large square chamber. If she had to guess, it had been an armory at one time. Numerous stands and racks littered the floor. Some remained against the walls, having been bolted in place. Much of the ancient wood had rotted away, but the metal strips were intact just enough to show purpose. Whatever contents the weapon and armor displays once held, had long since vanished out the hole in the wall, the same hole sourcing her breeze.

  Pieces of stone were scattered across the floor. Inyalia knew the hole had to have been created from the other side. If it had been this side the debris would have fallen outward, not in. Carefully, she approached and leaned through, bracing herself against the jagged edges. There wasn’t enough light making its way to her to see into the opening, but there was no denying that it dropped into a cave. She could hear a large amount of water not far off. With any luck that meant a river. And a river was likely to have fish. Pleased with her findings, Inyalia grabbed one of the broken pieces of wall and dropped it through the hole. Listening intently, she counted, waiting for it to hit the ground. It resounded almost immediately. That was good. It meant it wasn’t a far drop to the cavern floor.

  “Anything of interest?” Tylor’s voice was weak and far off. Had she not been listening there was no doubt she would have missed it.

  Retracting herself, Inyalia made her way back toward the main room, closing the gate behind her. The last thing she wanted was for someone to come in behind them without some kind of warning. She reached the main door. Bracing against the stone frame, Inyalia poked her head out. “It’s some kind of guardhouse. But the back room has a hole in the wall that leads into the caves. I don’t know about food, but I could hear water.”

  Tylor took a moment to catch his breath before responding. “That’s—better than nothing.” He attempted to pull himself up but failed.

  Seeing his struggle, Inyalia sauntered across the hall and knelt to help him up. “You know, if I weren’t such a nice person, I might consider giving you some payback for all the hell you’ve put me through.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing you’re a nice person then.” Straining, Tylor took her hand, pulling himself up as best he could. There were no delusions that Inyalia was doing most of the work.

  Helping him to his feet, Inyalia took position on his left. She threw his arm over her shoulder, offering him balance as they hobbled toward the door. Inside, she guided him to the closest bed and had him sit. Certain he was stable, Inyalia rushed out the door and grabbed the few supplies they had left, along with her cloak, pack, and bedroll. Returning, she closed the door behind her. “Which bed do you want? I’ll get the dust knocked out of it.”

  “This one is fine.”

  Holding her breath, Inyalia waited for her target. It was nearly in position. Just a moment longer and she’d have a perfect shot. Seeing her opportunity, she released the string. The blackened arrow sank with precision, its head erupting out the other side. Feeling the string go taut, Inyalia pulled it toward her, wrapping it from hand to elbow. A moment later the arrow broke the surface, pulling the large white fish it had skewered. Inyalia grabbed the wooden shaft, careful to keep the fish from sliding off. It’d only happened once before, but she’d become paranoid since.

  Certain she wouldn’t lose it, Inyalia drug it from the water and cut the string. Holding the large fish by its gills, she pulled the arrow completely through and laid her catch with the other. Quivering both, her bow and arrow, she tucked the string into the side pocket on the quiver and turned her attention to the fish.

  Quickly and precisely, she drew her dagger and made an incision along the belly of each one. Reaching into the mouth, she hooked her fingers and ripped downward, removing the lower jaw and innards in one fell swoop. Inyalia tossed them into the water and rinsed her hands off. Drying them on her tattered breeches, she plucked the torch from the clay at the river’s edge and grabbed both fish by the gills.

  It took only a few minutes to reach the hole in the wall. Tossing her catch through, Inyalia climbed up and dropped the torch into a bucket. It went out almost instantly.

  It was still hard to see. They’d covered the gate with a gutted mattress, ensuring sound and light didn’t alert anything in the cavern to their presence. Not that they’d encountered any such creature, but something had to have made the hole.

  Inyalia located the dead fish and made for the iron gate. Opening it, she pulled the makeshift tarp aside and stepped through. Quickly navigating the short halls, she found her way into the main quarters and laid dinner on the end of the table. “I’m back. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

  “Nope. Same shit different day.” Tylor massaged his leg. It was regaining color and the swelling was all but gone, but he still had trouble moving it. Pulling the repaired pant leg over his knee, he grabbed his crutch and climbed to her feet. Hobbling to the table, he twisted and fell to his seat. “I see we’re having fish again.”

  “Yep. And every night until we find something else.” Inyalia slid her dagger behind the side fin. Twisting the blade, she drug it toward the tail. The entire side came free. Flipping it, she repeated the process and carried both pieces to the fireplace.

  “What I would give to have my spice shaker. At least then we’d have some flavor.”

  “I’ll be glad when you heal up enough to walk. All you’ve done for weeks is complain. You complain about the food. You complain about your pack. You complain about being stuck in here while I’m mapping the cave and gathering supplies. How about you pull yo
ur big boy pants on and find something useful to do?” Inyalia tossed the other fish at him, sticking out her tongue. She was only half serious. He needed time to heal. But he was also complaining more and more each day. Or what she guessed was days. It did little good trying to track them in the underground. They could have been trapped for weeks, or even months. She couldn’t be certain. Even tracking the days through the vent in the outside hall had proven useless. It didn’t seem to matter how often she checked, or if she spent an entire day watching it, it was always dark. But at least they had food, water, and shelter. And the company wasn’t half bad when he wasn’t complaining.

  Tylor caught the fish with ease. Drawing his own dagger, he cut in, silently mimicking her nagging. His only hope was she didn’t see him. She’d caught him unaware across the back of the head last time. Walking his blade, Tylor removed the fillet, though it took a bit more sawing than it had Inyalia. “Speaking of the cave. Did you find anything new?”

  “Possibly. I think I found the tunnel where the air is coming from.”

  “That’s good. I’m almost finished with my brace. Hopefully it’ll let me walk without this damn crutch. Maybe we can explore it in a couple days.”

  “I was planning on checking it out tomorrow. There’s no sense in you exhausting yourself if it turns out to be nothing. And I promise, if it leads somewhere, I’ll come back to get you.”

  “How thoughtful.” Tylor smiled sarcastically. He was grateful for everything she’d done, but he was going stir crazy. All things considered, they had a pretty decent setup once it’d been cleaned. But he was feeling trapped. He did the same things, over and over, every day for longer than he knew. The monotony was making him irrational and grumpy. Handing the fillets to Inyalia, he watched her lay them across the hot skillet.

  Dipping her hands into a bucket of water, Inyalia scrubbed the slime away before drying them on a piece of cloth. Sliding both, the bucket and rag to Tylor, she returned her attention to the meat. “What do you think the world is like outside?”

  “I’d imagine it’s not much different from when we last saw. If I’ve learned anything being a wild elf, it’s that most people don’t care about you once you pass out of their immediate vicinity.”

  “That’s kind of a sad worldview.” Inyalia flipped the fish, listening to it sizzle.

  “Sad, but true. All too often, when people claim to miss someone, it’s the things that person did for them that they really miss. Once that usefulness is gone, most people no longer care.” Tylor washed his hands and pushed the bucket to the center of the table. Glancing up, he caught Inyalia staring at him. She had a sorrow in her eyes that he didn’t like to see. At least not in her. She was always so alive and ready to do something. Dragging her down was the last thing he intended “So, tell me again about the Guardians.”

  Inyalia watched him for a long moment. She could see the wheels turning in his head. His change of subject was little more than an excuse to talk about something else. “I’ve already told you a hundred times.”

  “That’s an exaggeration. It’s been like three times.”

  Inyalia sighed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  “Well, you said they called you the child of Jorhn.”

  “No. Child of Jordnye. Any idea what it means?”

  Tylor shook his head. “No. The historians give name to many of the ancients, but I don’t recall ever hearing that name. And the armor, they just gave it to you?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’d really like to know what the symbol on the collar means. I’ve studied every insignia the corps uses. Never seen that one.”

  “They didn’t say. Just that troubling times are coming and I witnessed the beginning, so I‘m the one that got a warning. Oh, and apparently the continued existence of the rangers is dependent on me. Like that’s not a lot of pressure to put on anyone.”

  Tylor chuckled. “You’ll do fine. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were destined for greatness. Besides, if the daughter of Kalen Highlor can’t save the day, no one can.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “Sure I am. I’m preparing you. I thought that’s what mentors were supposed to do.”

  Oh, so now you want to be my mentor. When I needed your assistance, you were tight lipped about everything.”

  “When you needed my assistance, it was my duty to see how you did without it.”

  “You guys really need to rethink that system.” Inyalia pulled the skillet from the fire and laid it between them.

  “Well, maybe when you take over you can change how things are done.”

  “Shut up and eat your food.”

  Quietly, Tylor twisted the small piece of wood he’d used to tighten the brace. It hurt, but it was the only way to ensure it would remain in place. Tucking it through the loop, he gave the apparatus a squeeze, pleased with the end result. He couldn’t feel the pressure in his knee. Spinning on his hind end, he removed the bars holding it stationary and allowed his leg to bend.

  To his pleasure, it did so without shooting pain through his entire body. If anything, it was only a mild pain compared to what it had been. Testing himself, he pushed off the table and put full weight on it. Teetering slightly, he found his balance and took a small step. A smile formed. It was going to work.

  Tucking his daggers away, Tylor grabbed his crutch and hobbled to the foot of Inyalia’s bed. She’d be up in a few hours and he didn’t want to disturb her. As quiet as he could be, he approached the shelf next to her. Lifting the rolled piece of cloth, he pulled it free and carried it to the table. It sprawled out, covering nearly half of the stone top. Several blackened lines trailed the cloth, forming a huge map of the cavern structure. Each line was beset by a number. Memorizing his path, calculating the numbers in his head, Tylor grabbed the broken chunk of flint Inyalia had given him and tucked it into his pocket. Certain he knew the path, Tylor placed a small stone on the only line not capped with a heavy X and made for the back room.

  Reaching the makeshift blanket, Tylor pulled it aside and opened the gate. It only took a moment to crawl through the wall, but the stiffness in his leg made it a harder task than he’d realized. Setting foot on the cavern floor for the first time, he removed the flint and struck it. The sparks landed in the oil-soaked torch and it flared to life. Tylor stood silent for a few moments, recalling the map, familiarizing himself with the change in his surroundings. It was a long walk to the new tunnel. The last thing he wanted was to get lost. That wouldn’t help either of them.

  But Inyalia’s map was extremely detailed. He could have followed it with his eyes closed. Turning the direction toward the unexplored area, Tylor limped along the clay and stone floor. He was moving slower than ever, but at least he was moving. The new passage was just under twelve-thousand steps. At his current speed, he’d reach it about the time Inyalia woke.

  Rolling, Inyalia’s eyes shot open. Something wasn’t right. Looking to Tylor’s bed, he wasn’t there. She sat up, searching the room. He was nowhere to be seen, but her map laid upon the table. Shaking her head, Inyalia kicked her legs off the bed and stood. She knew what he’d done.

  A heavy sigh escaped her. He was growing restless, she knew that. But to go into the caverns in his current state was foolish. They didn’t know what was beyond the immediate area. Something had to have created the hole in the first place. And the only weapons Tylor had was his daggers. He’d justified he didn’t need anything else, but she didn’t believe it. Even if he didn’t care to use a bow, it was better to have something with some reach. Especially when an enemy had the same advantage.

  Fuming, Inyalia dressed, locking her armor into place. She was relieved to see that Tylor had done the same. At least his sense hadn’t fully abandoned him before undertaking such a foolish task. Inyalia rolled the map and tucked it away. Gathering the few supplies they regularly used, she heaved her quiver to her shoulder and set out. With any luck they wouldn’t be returning, and it wasn’t like Tylor was
here to use them.

  Inyalia reached the caves, running as often as she dared. His tracks suggested he wasn’t more than an hour ahead. And if he was going to be here, she wanted to be with him.

  Reaching the last intersection before the new passage, Inyalia scanned the floor. Easily, she found his tracks. It wasn’t so much his footsteps that gave him away. They were nearly nonexistent, save for the areas where the floor was moist. It was the crutch he used that she was able to follow without much effort.

  Finding the tunnel, Inyalia turned into it. The air was warmer here than it had been, but it was a subtle difference. Following the tracks, silently counting her steps to add it to the map, she continued on.

  There was no denying the heat now. What had been a comfortable cool was now almost hot. More importantly, Inyalia was beginning to see further than her torch allowed. That meant she was either right behind Tylor, or there was another light source.

  The latter meant she needed to proceed with caution. Snuffing her torch in the clay, she wrapped the head with a torn piece of mattress and tucked it into her pack. As expected, she could see just fine, but the flicker of flame was absent. Whatever was providing light was clearly not a torch or basin of any kind.

  Drawling an arrow, Inyalia slowly advanced. She only hoped Tylor had the sense to take similar precautions. Making her way around the bend, Inyalia discovered her light source.

  Glowing fungus clung to the walls of the large room. It radiated various shades of blues, yellows, greens, and orange. A deep chasm split the room, leaving a single trail to follow to the right, but there was clearly another path on the other side. If only she knew how to reach it. But the other path was irrelevant at the moment. Tylor’s tracks continued on this path. He was her first priority.

  Steam rose from the chasm, creating a thin layer of fog toward the ceiling. With the protruding stalactites it felt rather ominous. Inyalia could hear what sounded like boiling water down below. She was beginning to sweat with the unexpected heat. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on, hoping to find Tylor before trouble found him.