Neversfall

by Ed Gentry

  “When we found you, where had you come from?”

  “The trees,” Guk said.

  “The forest? Aerilpar?” Taennen asked.

  Guk agreed and said, “The forest provided many workers.”

  “You were searching the forest for slaves before we encountered you?” the young durir asked.

  “We retrieved many workers from there,” Guk answered, and for the first time, Taennen thought he might have detected something in the formian’s tone: irritation.

  “How long were you there? How much of the forest did you see?” he asked.

  Guk paused a moment, his mandibles clacking, before replying, “Almost two of your tendays we stayed there, keeping to the western edge and middle.”

  “In that time, did you see any other men—humans like us—anywhere? Any camps or signs of them? Any fires in the night?” Taennen asked, knowing that the beast clans who inhabited the forest would live much deeper in the woods than Guk would have traveled.

  “No.”

  Taennen’s pleasure at having been correct was quickly replaced by the void that comes from disproving the only available assumption. He had nothing to go on, no possibilities to investigate. His insight while staring at the forest from the tower had been correct. As he had scanned the trees he saw no smoke, no firelight. None of the patrols had reported even seeing a used firepit. That told him the bandits were not coming from the forest.

  “In all the One … where are they coming from?” he said to himself.

  “If you find these others, you will release us,” Guk said.

  Taennen’s looked up at the formian’s dark, empty eyes. “You know where they are,” he stated, having no doubt about the assertion.

  “Yes.”

  Only Adeenya’s disciplined mind kept her pace slow and quiet. Making noise would attract the guards, and that could not happen. She slipped across the courtyard on the balls of her feet. Two Chondathan soldiers, their torches cutting through the dark, scanned the area. To the north, near a cluster of quarters, more soldiers scurried about. It would be the same all over the citadel, she knew.

  Adeenya wondered what might have happened had she stayed in her prison and taken Jhoqo’s words to heart. What were his plans for her? But mostly, she wondered if he could have convinced her. His words had begun to pierce her will—she had found some value in them, and that frightened her.

  She tried to shake the doubt from her mind to focus on the task before her—staying alive and staying free. She needed to reach her own troops, to somehow communicate with them. She wondered if any of them had swallowed Jhoqo’s rhetoric. She had no doubt the Chondathans were working with Jhoqo, but she was uncertain of the Maquar. While Jhoqo no longer fit into that organization’s belief system, by her estimation, perhaps some of his soldiers still did.

  Her first step would be to attempt contact with her own troops, so she turned toward their barracks on the far side of the citadel. She did not relish such a challenge and found great relief when she realized that some of her soldiers might be guarding the wall for the night duty. Only one more small building stood between her and the wall, and the shadows there were easier to hide in. Lucha was hidden by thick clouds, and Adeenya prayed that they would linger long enough to cover her.

  The stairs leading to the walkway were less than half a bowshot away. Stealth was not her strength, but Adeenya had hope for the first time since her capture. Staying crouched, she prepared to make a dash for the stairs. Before she could overthink the plan, she darted across the courtyard to the stairs. Her heart pounded and her ears burned. She felt convinced that eyes were upon her. She reached the stairs and, staying as flat against the wall as possible, she slinked up the stairs.

  Comforted by the shadows at the top, she proceeded toward the far end of the citadel. Lacking her armor, she was instilled with both a sense of dread and of freedom. The freedom and ease of movement without her stiff leather plate was pleasing, but she knew she would not survive long without it if she were forced into battle.

  Several paces ahead, she saw the dim light of one of the watch posts, where guards remained stationed instead of pacing the perimeter. She crept forward, hoping the guard on duty would be one of her own soldiers. As she drew nearer she was disappointed to see instead the features of one of the Chondathans. Moving to the inside wall of the walkway, she inched toward the man. Adeenya was two steps from an ideal ambush position directly behind the man when he spoke.

  Taennen clipped short the scream of frustration he had almost loosed. His face turned a light crimson as he trembled with impotent rage. The formian leader, in spite of the display before him, stood as silent and unmoving as ever. Taennen stepped back from the creature and calmed himself. He could hear more activity outside the building, soldiers answering some urgent call issued from the rear of the citadel.

  “Where are they?” he demanded. “Where are the invaders?”

  “We do not know,” Guk replied.

  “You just—” Taennen began.

  “We do not know where they are at all times, but where they come from, into this place, that we know,” the formian said.

  “How? How do they get into the citadel?”

  “Under,” Guk said.

  “Under? The ground?”

  The formian said, “Tunnels.”

  It made sense. How else could the invaders have entered the citadel without discovery? It explained the lack of fires in the forest and how the patrols had found no trace of camps in the woods. His mind slammed the pieces into place, but he found one that did not fit. They had fought the enemy in the woods. If they moved and slept in the tunnels, how did the barbarians know to find them in the forest?

  The answer came readily. The enemy knew where to find them because someone told the enemy where they would be. There was a traitor.

  “You will free us now,” Guk said, interrupting Taennen’s thoughts.

  The Maquar durir looked up at the formian and considered the words. He had implied the formian’s freedom for cooperation, and he would not dishonor himself by failing to follow through on even a tenuous promise. Freeing them would mean his career, he did not doubt. Not freeing them might cost his life.

  “Show me the tunnels and then leave by them,” Taennen said.

  Guk’s head shifted from side to side for a moment, his antennae flickering, followed by the same motions from his cohorts. “Agreed,” the formian leader said.

  Taennen went to the door, opening it a crack to peer out. He saw no one in that part of the courtyard. He opened all the cells, untying the formians’ bindings, and motioned for them to follow him. He stepped out of the building and looked both directions down the narrow paths between structures. He was turning to hurry the creatures when he found they were already behind him, moving so quietly that, even at a few paces, he could not hear them.

  “Where?” Taennen asked.

  Guk pointed to one of the outlying buildings, one of only a few not built on piers, and moved down the prison’s steps toward it, his fellows following. The structure was one of the smallest, and it seemed an unlikely choice for an entrance to a secret tunnel. Perhaps, Taennen thought, that was the point. He fell into step beside Guk, keeping his movements as quiet as he could. His hand rested on the hilt of his khopesh, and his shield arm flexed in anticipation. They made the front door of the building, and Taennen ushered the formians through the door. Inside, Guk stood in the middle of the room, his antennae weaving back and forth.

  “Where is it?” Taennen asked.

  “I do not know,” Guk said. Before Taennen could reply, he continued. “I know it is here but have not seen it from this side.”

  “What? You’ve been in the tunnels?” he said.

  “No,” Guk answered.

  “Then how did you see it?”

  “Others showed me.”

  “What others?” Taennen asked, clutching his weapon.

  “My people.”

  Taennen looked around the ro
om at the formians and said, “There are more out there? More who are not prisoners?”

  “Yes. Small ones. Workers.”

  “How did they show you the tunnel?”

  Guk’s head jerked again, his mandibles clicking together. After a few moments, he stopped but said nothing. None of the creatures spoke or even moved. Taennen did not believe they wanted to be uncooperative or that they were trying to be secretive. Guk had proven himself honest to a fault, after all. Perhaps they could not explain it, he thought.

  “That noise you were making, that humming … is that how they showed you?” Taennen asked.

  “Yes,” Guk said, and Taennen thought he saw something akin to relief on the creature’s face.

  “Well, this room is small, so it can’t be hard to find.”

  Together, Taennen and the formians moved crates and barrels from one of the room’s corners but found no trapdoor. The floor consisted of about twenty square blocks of stone. Taennen directed the formians to lift them. After only a few attempts, they found four adjacent stones that moved. Under the stones was a wooden door with iron hinges and handles. The door was opened and Guk ordered his people through it before Taennen could even offer to go first. All but one of the formians entered the tunnel. Taennen eyed the creature warily but slipped through the door to stand next to Guk. Soft light shone from a magical orb on the ceiling of the tunnel.

  Taennen pointed up through the portal and asked, “Why isn’t that one coming?”

  “Our route of escape must remain hidden,” Guk said.

  Taennen felt ill when the truth became clear. Guk had ordered one of his people to stay behind to replace the stones over the door and lead anyone who might be searching for them away from the tunnel entrance. He had ordered men to make sacrifices before, but never like that. Above him, the door closed and he heard the scraping of the heavy tiles being moved into place.

  “They’ll kill him when he’s found,” Taennen said.

  “Yes,” Guk replied, and turned to move down the tunnel. “But the whole will benefit.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Would you believe me if I told you that no harm will find you if you surrender?” the wall guard asked, turning to face Adeenya with a grin on his face.

  Adeenya did not spare even the briefest moment to curse her luck. Instead she threw herself into the Chondathan before her. Though no stranger to physical confrontation, Adeenya had never tried such a maneuver in mortal combat without her armor on, and at that moment she understood why. Pain shocked her shoulder when she made contact. When she heard a cracking noise, she felt sure the bone was broken, but to her relief the terrible sound was the guard’s ribs snapping, his leather armor having failed to absorb the force of her charge. Propelled by her momentum, the enemy lost his footing, and together they piled into the walkway’s parapet.

  With the man stunned by the impact of her attack, Adeenya managed to win the race to act first after the tumble. She sent a knee into the man’s stomach and a forearm into his nose. Her opponent fell, huddled against the parapet, his face buried in his hands. Muted moans of pain streamed from his mouth, and blood ran down his wrists.

  Before his groans could turn to shouts that might alert his fellows, Adeenya jerked his hands from his face and lashed out with Jhoqo’s falchion. She drew a wide, ugly line across his neck. The Chondathan thrashed for only a moment before stillness overtook him, his head lolling. Adeenya checked his body for anything of use to her. Pleased with Jhoqo’s sword, she left the dead man’s weapon behind but paused to strip some of the armor from his corpse and don it herself. It didn’t quite fit, but it was better than nothing.

  Without bothering to hide the evidence of her attack, Adeenya crept forward along the walkway toward the open end of the courtyard. It was there that most of the people in the citadel were converging. The black of night blended into the dark stone of the citadel so that the dim torchlight stood out in contrast. Adeenya had never minded the dark before, but as she skulked along the walkway, unsure of what might lay in wait for her, she hated it.

  As she came within sight of the open courtyard, she saw the soldiers from all three organizations gathered there. A few crates were pushed together, indicating that someone—likely Jhoqo—meant to address the gathered audience. She was too far away to hear the oratory, so she crept forward.

  Adeenya slowed her already deliberate pace as she approached the next source of torchlight on the wall and readied herself for another conflict with the guard who would be waiting there. Slinking along the outside wall, she came within site of the usual holding position—vacant. Pleased but disquieted by the lack of opposition, Adeenya continued forward to get a better view of the scene below her.

  She blinked her eyes, sensing something ahead. The torch that normally lit the area had been doused, causing the darkness to swallow everything. Her feet found the stone beneath them, but not because she could see it well. Adeenya lowered herself to her hands and knees, crawling on all fours, hoping to quiet her movement even more. She stopped and saw someone crouched on the walkway several paces ahead of her. The dim light revealed a crossbow aimed into the courtyard. Whoever wielded it wore dark clothing that obscured his or her identity. Had one of her men discovered the truth and planned to assassinate the crazed Jhoqo?

  Perhaps the bowman was not there to slay Jhoqo but Taennen. Had the younger man finally stood up to his commander, challenging the urir? Adeenya shook the thought from her mind. There was only one way to learn the shooter’s intentions. If it were one of her men, she would apologize later.

  She dashed forward on the balls of her feet, a dance blending speed with silence. The prone figure turned and began to stand much too late. Adeenya launched her booted foot into the bowman’s face, knocking him off-balance and sending him tumbling into the walkway. She followed him quickly, leaping atop the rolling victim to bring the motion to an end. Finally able to see his face, Adeenya took satisfaction in her initial decision and punched the mouth of the Chondathan man she sat astride. Teeth buried themselves in her knuckles, but her fist dived in again, eliciting a spray of blood and a groan of pain. Though awkward from her kneeling position, Adeenya sliced the falchion’s blade across the man’s throat, ending his squirming.

  As she caught her breath after the struggle, voices from the courtyard wafted to her ears. Indistinct sounds, like whispers in dreams, chattered away. Unable to distinguish much, Adeenya proceeded atop the walkway. Less surprised but still fearful of the meaning, Adeenya found another crossbowman crouched atop the wall, his weapon targeting the interior of the courtyard. Dressed in dark, drab clothing, this enemy scanned the area below as if looking for a target. She needed to strike as quickly and decisively as she had just moments ago. When her intended victim spun toward her and let loose a bolt, she hoped Taennen would figure out the truth in her stead.

  Taennen followed the formians as they scurried through the tunnels. Utterly blind in the absolute darkness, he listened for their soft, almost soundless footfalls. They had run several hundred paces, but they had not yet seen another light like the one at the tunnel’s entrance. Perhaps they were in an unused portion of the tunnels? The formians could be leading him anywhere. Taennen slowed his pace and came to a stop. Ahead, the formians halted as well.

  “Come.” Guk’s voice floated out of the darkness.

  “Where are we going?” Taennen asked.

  “To the invaders.”

  “Why would you take me there?”

  Silence reigned for several moments before the tell-tale clacking of the formians’ mandibles echoed through the chamber, followed by Guk saying, “Because you freed us, as agreed.”

  “But you make slaves of my people.”

  Another long pause came before the formian spoke again. “We agreed. You free us, we show you the invaders. We gave you our word. Our word is law.”

  Taennen had little choice but to accept the given intentions at face value or wander lost in the tark tunnels, so he
asked the formians to proceed and he fell in behind them. Extending both arms to let his fingers skim along the rocky walls to check his surroundings, Taennen felt safer, more grounded. He could smell fresh water even above the bitter scent of aged rock and the musty odor of the mildews and molds common underground.

  The formians slowed down as the darkness began to break apart under the prying wisps of light ahead. Though not enough to distinguish any details, the dim magical light, like that near the tunnel entrance, allowed Taennen to make out shapes. He crept forward until he was looking past the formians into a large open area, a cave with a high ceiling and broad walls. Staying in the obscuring dark of the tunnel, Taennen squinted to make out details. Before he could focus, he felt a prodding at his back. He turned to face the creatures.

  “Invaders are there. We are done,” Guk said, turning to leave.

  “Wait,” Taennen said. “Where will you go?”

  Guk turned back. The low light seemed to flee from the formian’s face, which made addressing him difficult. “To join the others and look for more workers.”

  The absurdity of what he was doing crashed down upon Taennen, but he did not dwell on it. He paused before saying thank you. He had no other words.

  Guk simply turned and left, leading his people back through the tunnel. Taennen turned once again to examine the open area ahead of him. Clinging to the darkness of the tunnel, Taennen crept forward and scanned the area ahead.

  The walls expanded to forty paces across, and the ceiling was perhaps half that in height. Two exit tunnels, one at the far end of the cave and the other to his right, caught Taennen’s attention. The magical, smokeless torchlight was present though not plentiful, and no sounds came from the area. With little alternative, Taennen darted into the cave, coming to a stop against a wall in the nearest shadows.