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by Greg L. Turnquist


  Exactly when had he shifted from being upholder of the law to renegade military leader? He wasn't like this when Snitch had joined. That conversation rang in his head.

  “Sir, we caught someone trailing us in the woods.” The second lieutenant saluted.

  Gavin raised his eyebrows. “And who might that be?”

  The officer waved forward a small, rough looking girl. She had cheap clothes and a long coat but little else.

  “What's your name?” The captain of the royal guard had a light smile on his face. This may prove entertaining.

  “Everybody calls me Snitch.” The tiny ragamuffin smirked. “And contrary to what Captain Smarts here says, I didn’t steal any of your goodies.”

  The girl’s sassy tone made Gavin laugh.

  Several of his men looked at each other, chuckling the same.

  Her story was hard to believe, given she looked like every other kid thief he had chased when his charge had been protection of the city. There was little success in catching any of these kids when they could scatter, run, and hide. But since they didn’t steal much more than apples from street vendors, it was never a big issue.

  “Tell me, Snitch, why are you here?” Gavin snickered.

  “I think it’s best if I first returned . . . this.” She produced a dagger from her coat, laid flat in her palm while ceremoniously extending her other arm.

  A couple of Gavin's men jumped to their feet, weapons half drawn.

  Gavin waved them back while the corners of his face turned up. He’d play her game.

  “I don't need one. I have—” He reached for his own, but his hand fumbled against an empty sheath.

  Glancing down before glaring back, Gavin snatched his dagger. “And why should I not hang you up in the nearest tree to let wild animals take whatever they want from you?” He pointed the dagger inches from her face while gritting his teeth.

  “Because I can do more than pick pockets. I figured you wouldn't believe me without a demonstration.” Snitch bowed and extended her arms, as if she were a circus performer. Her voice betrayed no fear. “How do you think I entered your little camp without anyone noticing? I've been here for a few hours. Just thought it was time I introduced myself.”

  Idle chatter had vanished, and all eyes were now on her and Gavin.

  “You can steal, but thievery will not restore our kingdom. It takes men of honor and courage, not waifs of the streets.” Gavin held his chin strong. This girl was of no use. But she knew their location, and that concerned him. What would he do with her?

  “And what if we can't muster enough honor and courage with our small group? What then?” Clarel’s melodious voice drifted across the clearing in the woods. Glancing down, she stood behind Snitch.

  It pulled Gavin from his thoughts. “You can't be serious. This is a pickpocket, a cutpurse. What value does she offer?”

  “From where do you plan to acquire the information needed for your honorable raids and courageous missions? Do you have any good contacts still inside the city?” Stepping closer to Snitch, the campfire lit up her golden hair. “I’ll bet Snitch does.” She stared down at her and the girl nodded.

  Gavin paused, tilting his head. “How can we trust such information? Besides, she'll sneak out when a more profitable situation arises.” Gavin scrunched his eyes at Snitch. Had he seen this one before?

  “I would rather have some information that can be evaluated than none at all. And I think Snitch has already made the most profitable decision.” She put her hands on the small girl’s shoulders.

  The girl looked up and grinned.

  Gavin had lost the argument and he knew it. Their group was small, and Melicose's rise to power had splintered what was left. They weren’t at war with Melicose but instead were on the brink of survival. And someone like Snitch might supply them with more than information.

  “Okay, you can stay—for now. But if you ever double cross us, the outcome will not be good.” He pulled himself up as tall as he could and glowered at her.

  Snitch swallowed.

  Clarel whispered some words and pointed to her sleeping mat.

  The two left the fire ring, talking in whispers.

  It had been tough accepting Snitch. Yet here he was recruiting another shady crook he had met just a few hours ago.

  It wasn’t things that had changed. No, it was him.

  The stakes were much higher—for everyone. And with that, Gavin was comfortable in his opinion of Terrell.

  As they continued onward, Gavin thought about how long they had been in the tunnels. He let out a low whistle, and everyone stopped.

  Snitch dropped back to his position.

  “How far are we from Base?” Gavin signed.

  Snitch pulled out the darkpad and sketched out the route they were taking.

  Gavin scribbled, “How long?”

  Snitch penciled in, “An hour, maybe two. Depends on Terrell.”

  Gavin sensed that she was giving Terrell the benefit of the doubt. Was he some sort of kindred spirit to her? A chance to extend to him what Clarel once showed her?

  Snitch twisted her lip.

  “That path would not be wise,” rumbled a deep voice from behind.

  Gavin drew his blade as his heart pounded. The piercing glow of a pocket bulb light flooded his eyes. He winced, and through squinted eyes, spotted Terrell being pulled to the ground by Snitch.

  After a few seconds, Gavin glared at the old man in robes holding the bulb. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Glantham could be a bit melodramatic.

  “I see you have found another recruit.” Glantham stared at Terrell.

  Snitch rose, tugging at Terrell to do the same.

  “Who are you?” Terrell asked.

  “I am Glantham. Once an advisor to the king, but now I do what I can to help the resistance.”

  “What is wrong with this path?” Snitch stepped forward.

  “Soldiers have already entered the tunnels. You would surely run into them if you went that way.”

  The old man didn’t whisper, yet his deep, strong voice didn’t ring through the tunnels. Something Gavin never understood. “Terrell says they aren't coming for three days.”

  “That piece of information is mistaken. Trust me.”

  Trust me. How many times had he heard those words? Glantham’s information was always spot on, at least when he had some. The challenge with this long-haired man was scarcity. It drove Gavin to accept more dubious sources, like Snitch's contacts.

  “You know, I hate it when you sneak up like that.” Gavin sheathed his weapon.

  “Sorry, but I was also trying to get back to Base. I heard rumor of an invasion. Soldiers were entering the hatch I planned to use, forcing me to travel this way.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “With no alert from our surface contact, Raven, I fear the worst.”

  Glantham turned to the new recruit. He needed information and would get it, one way or another. “Troops have been spotted. Exactly what do you know?” Resorting to other means was something he wished to avoid.

  Terrell stood, his mouth open. “It sounded like either four units or four-man units. I thought they were coming in three days, but since that’s wrong, maybe something else is happening in three days.”

  Was this the truth? Staring at the man’s face, Glantham tried to glean his honesty.

  Terrell’s eyes shone wide as he snorted.

  It could be a look of surprise or of someone fashioning a lie.

  “That’s not all,” Gavin said. “Terrell worked for Melicose and described a secret advisor. A reclusive man that wore a monocle.”

  Glantham raised his eyebrows. “It can’t be him. He’s dead.”

  Gavin shook his head. “I thought the same. But if it’s true—”

  “If true, it could spell disaster for us all. And if Raven has been compromised . . . ” An hour ago, Glantham wouldn’t have believed this stranger, but now, anything seemed possible.


  “It's good that you brought him, for our sake and for his.” The next task was clear. He just hoped Gavin was ready. “I may need to . . . do some checking.”

  “I see.” Gavin’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before relaxing. “How long will it take?”

  “Hopefully, just a few minutes.”

  Snitch scrunched her eyebrows.

  “What are you talking about?” Terrell asked.

  This wasn’t the time to discuss he and Gavin's shorthand.

  Gavin stepped in front of Glantham and faced Snitch. “Why don’t you and Terrell take a break. I can't say much more. Just—trust me, okay?”

  Snitch stared back without moving. She glared, her hands propped up on her waist, but eventually relented and sat on the tunnel floor. Pulling out a water flask, Snitch took a swig and offered it to Terrell.

  Shrugging his shoulders he sat as well, shaking his head.

  Half of a smile spread across Glantham’s face. Gavin sounded more and more like himself.

  Wasting no more time, Glantham closed his eyes and focused his thoughts. He repeated a chain of words in his mind, over and over. It helped him concentrate. As he did so, an aura from Snitch, Gavin, and Terrell entered his consciousness.

  Continuing his mental litany, Glantham’s surroundings formed an image in his mind. He didn't see so much as felt each of them. Suddenly, a strong gush of emotion rose up and hit him. Hard.

  “Ahh!” Gavin opened his eyes, his concentration broken.

  “What?” Gavin rushed to his side.

  “I—I'm not sure. A wave of nausea, but it’s passing.” His nerves were rattled, as if he had just witnessed a drastic nightmare but was awakened and unable to remember it. “I must try again.”

  Glantham closed his eyes and repeated his mental cadence. The same sense of awareness formed in his mind, and a calm amount of emotional energy flowed from Gavin. It nourished his need to relax and focus.

  Terrell radiated disquiet and unsureness. It was strong and easy to read.

  Snitch was different. Her emotional aura was flat and unreadable. Good. That was important, especially right now.

  Extending his focus, Glantham got a wider picture of the surrounding area. His thoughts floated along the tunnels. Then he quickened his mental speed. Tracing the many routes through the tunnels in his mind, he covered what would take hours on foot in seconds.

  A hunger formed in his heart, spreading throughout his body and warming him. The desire to go faster, look closer, and listen in swelled. His breathing turned shallow as the suggestion to reach into these areas turned from a glimmer into a craving. Stepping into one of these distant locations would save time, right?

  Biting his lip, Glantham squeezed his eyelids shut. His breathing became irregular as he fought this temptation.

  Bits of purple appeared on the fringes of his mind's eye. Just a little more information. Just a little more. The lines and edges of the tunnels took on a purplish hue, and the colors got crisper. More information. More information!

  “No!” he cried out, dropping to his knees. The images in his mind had vanished and his thoughts blanked out. Shaking his head, he looked around. Where was he? Who were these people?

  A strange man held up a light, staring at him. Then he spoke to one of the others. “Snitch, mini-corridor.”

  A young girl hopped to her feet, pulling something out of her pocket and grabbed another from the stranger before him, propping them up several feet away.

  “G-Gavin.” That name entered his mind as he stared at whoever was holding him.

  “Yes, I’m Gavin. Do you remember who you are?”

  “Glantham.” That sounded right. Images flooded his mind, and his eyes locked onto the small girl. “Snitch?”

  She turned to face him, her eyebrows scrunched. “What’s happening?”

  “I think that last round knocked him for a loop.”

  “It’s . . . it’s all coming back.” The tunnels. They were in the tunnels beneath the city. “I remember everything.” Glantham coughed.

  “What did you see?”

  “Several units of soldiers. Couldn't make out everything. Too risky.”

  “Flask.” Gavin extended his arm to Snitch. She handed him one, and he put it to Glantham's lips.

  “Did you see how many? What about Base?”

  “At least three units. Perhaps more.” He took another sip, waving off anymore.

  “And what about Base?” Gavin was curious for every detail. Why shouldn’t he be?

  Glantham stared at the floor as tears formed.

  “Destroyed. So many of our people, lost.”

  Gavin dropped his head as he clenched his fist. “We didn't move fast enough.”

  “Not all is lost. Some made it out.” Glantham wanted to offer a ray of hope, but his words felt inadequate.

  “What are you talking about?” Snitch’s eyes squinted as she showed her teeth. “First you say we can't take a certain path to get to Base. But now you say everyone at Base is, what, dead? How can you know this?”

  Dropping such a huge revelation on them would make things difficult. Could they take it? And what about Snitch? She was the one he was most concerned about.

  “Snitch, there are things you have keen insight in understanding,” Glantham said. “This is one area where mine is stronger.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that we can't proceed to Base.” Gavin stood, staring straight at her. “We have to find the others in the lower levels.” He gestured for everyone to get back on their feet. “Ready to walk?”

  “I think so.” Glantham dragged himself up, pulling his pack onto his shoulders.

  Snitch looked over Terrell and nodded back at Gavin.

  “Gavin, I'm not sure you can ever understand, but your support is much appreciated.” Glantham patted the man’s shoulder before getting into line.

  That wasn't the first time Gavin had heard those words. He squeezed his fingernails into the palm of his hand. It always flustered him that he couldn’t know more, and being short of information put him on edge. Glantham's skills were strange and vague, but somehow his support, whatever that meant, was vital.

  Shrugging off this uncertainty, Gavin switched his focus to navigation. “If I'm right, there should be a down ladder maybe a half hour away?”

  “We'll have to navigate some cross connects, but you're right.” Snitch licked her lips. “You do know we're headed toward—”

  “Of course I know we're going that way.” He cut her off, perhaps a bit rough. The shock of losing so many people caught in his throat. He had lost people before, but not so many. And this time it was a lot more personal. “Sorry.”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  Gavin shut off his pocket bulb and walked back to collect his darklight.

  Snitch retrieved her own.

  “Move out,” he ordered, and Snitch proceeded.

  “What is 'that way'?” Terrell whispered.

  “Not now. Keep it quiet.” She gestured with a finger on her lips. “Try picking your feet up and not sliding them. And don't swing your arms.”

  Gavin laughed inside. Her comments were so abrupt and to the point. The thought of her as some sort of military officer was absurd, but here she was, drilling a new recruit.

  It was surprising to hear her talk at all. But if she was taking Terrell under her wing, he just might rise to her level.

  They turned at the next junction, and Terrell's shirt swished against the corner.

  Snitch stopped him and swatted the same side that had hit the corner.

  Terrell sighed but straightened up.

  Snitch resumed course.

  Gavin grinned. Terrell was getting drilled on silent protocol as well as hand signals. It would be brutal. No one would be harder on him than Snitch.

  Another hour of hiking yielded a dozen more turns. This was slow progress, double the time he had estimated. And Terrell was the cause. Though he was much
quieter. He only had to be corrected once to avoid repeating a mistake.

  Then a knot formed in Gavin’s stomach. They had arrived at Rat's Nest.

  He looked in all directions. Was there any difference in ambient light? Normally he didn't do this, but with soldiers patrolling the tunnels, he had to exert extra caution.

  Nothing.

  He tapped his shoulder, giving Snitch the audible cue to light her pocket bulb and continue.

  A burst of light filled the surrounding area, radiating from between Snitch’s fingers. She hung it over her neck and crawled through the entrance.

  Terrell followed.

  Tendrils of light stretched out from her pocket bulb into the warped turns and bends inside Rat's Nest. They were close to the bottom, maybe twenty feet. The light stretched up several levels into a huge manufactured chasm.

  It was like standing inside a giant, four-story wheel. There were ladders, steps, and handholds in all directions, some upside down. At the hub were steps and handgrips. There were also platforms at multiple angles. All around this gigantic loop were openings leading to other tunnels.

  “Who built this?” Terrell's voice echoed.

  “I gave up on that question long ago,” Snitch whispered before waving at him to resume silence.

  Gavin recognized a handful of the tunnel ports, but wedged between the platforms around the hub were multiple protrusions with closed hatches. They must have been other paths to take, except there was no way to reach them. And no one ever reported a tunnel that arrived at one of these special hatches. Shrugging off this strange feat of drunken engineering, he continued to bring up the rear.

  Gavin stepped onto the bottom rung after the others had moved up the ladder. The last time he went this way he took a wrong turn, and it had cost him three extra hours. He sure was glad Snitch led the way now. This was her element, but he kept that to himself, simpering at the thought of such foolish pride.

  Snitch shifted from one ladder to another halfway up. From there she moved farther up to a platform that wasn't quite level.

  Terrell and Glantham followed her.

  When Gavin reached it, he pointed toward an exit point while raising his eyebrows.

  Snitch shook her head, indicating the next one. She swung her hand over to grab at a particular ladder and handgrip.

 

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