by M. H. Bonham
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Either that, or he may be using them as bait to lure us in.”
“Assuming he knows that you know he has them.” Li’alla frowned, all humor gone from her face. “I doubt they’re your team. Vindar would’ve killed them after extracting any information. Stick to the plan. Destroying the Elfshot will save the most lives.”
“Except we don’t seem to have a way to destroy it.” My chest tightened as I thought about the lost explosives.
“Something will present itself.” Tuzren said. “It always does.”
~ * ~
We followed the tunnels, relying on the demon’s memory for how to get there. We chose to walk in darkness rather than risk drawing attention to ourselves with mage lights. Tuzren and Li’alla could see just fine in the dark, but I couldn’t see anything, given the lack of light in the tunnels. Before we traveled in complete darkness, I consulted the grimoire to see if there were any night vision spells. To my relief, there was, which once I casted it on myself, I could see as well or better than either of them.
The tunnel, like the underground complex that Li’alla and the other Ironspell descendants lived in, branched out into several corridors and cross passageways. A few times we passed by soldiers riding Nightmares, but none seemed to notice us. Not even the Nightmares seemed to care that we were walking through the tunnels there. Maybe because we acted like we were supposed to be there. I formulated a response if we were questioned, but we didn’t need it.
If our path was the most direct, I’d hate to see what a meandering walk would take.
It took us several hours and rest stops before we arrived at a chamber that widened out. Tuzren hesitated before we entered the chamber and turned to me.
“Cast one of your Ignore Me spells,” he whispered. “The door is on the other side of the chamber.”
I did so and we slipped into the chamber.
The chamber looked like it had once been a guest hall or something that housed a lot of people or things. Columns flanked its sides that led into smaller alcoves which housed statues of what I guessed were famous Dark Elves. Above them, the ceiling stretched for at least three stories in a type of dome that had no opening to the outside and yet shown with a luminescent glow that lit all the way down to the floor. We could see across the great expanse toward the single door guarded by two of Vindar’s soldiers. The Ignore Me spell seemed to work as their eyes passed by us without noticing the two apparent Drow soldiers and a demon on the other side of the hall.
Painted murals extended from floor to ceiling, worn over time by dust, heat, and earthquakes. They depicted scenes I didn’t recognize. Above us looked like the Norse god Freyr handing something to what I suspected was a Dark Elven king. The god was amazingly beautiful with long blond hair and a blond beard—even to a heterosexual man such as myself—he was attractive in a manly sort of way. A large golden boar stood before him and the Dark Elf king had one hand on its flank as if giving the boar to the god. Another god with red hair like fire and beardless, presumably Loki, was standing next to the Dark Elf king.
I had seen paintings of the gods before, mostly done in sort of Romanesque-type images, but this was not in that style. They appeared life-like and in clothing that the Northern tribes would’ve worn given the period of the design. My gaze shifted lower to the images of a battle. Dark Elves and Light Elves battling each other. The king of the Dark Elves stood in the center, fighting what appeared to be the Light Elven king. Another mural depicted Dark Elves breaking their chains with hammers. And yet another one showed a battle with newer armor and Dwarves attacking the Dark Elves. I turned and saw yet another mural showing two worlds, both lush and green, colliding in a terrible Cataclysm. A chunk of one world spiraled off into space, while the two suns were caught together in a slow dance of death.
And as I was looking at them, the images shifted and changed into other battles and other great heroic feats, almost as if it were done with a projector or multiple computer screens. I gasped in total amazement. I could feel the Fae wild magic working here. While humans created magic with our technology, the Fae simply brought it into being.
Li’alla touched my arm, bringing me back to the present. “These paintings are incredible,” I whispered. “How did your people create them?”
Li’alla smiled. “Our artisans create these through their memories. What you see is what the Elves who were there remember.”
“It’s an archive,” I mused.
She nodded. “Yes, this was once a gigantic archive. It was above ground before the Cataclysm, but the archivists and librarians used their magic to transfer the images to where we see them now. I had heard about such a place from Nana, but I didn’t know it was here.”
“What happened to the archivists who moved them?” Tuzren asked.
She sighed. “Many of them died from the Cataclysm, but a few did survive, or so I’ve been told.”
“Would they be here now?” I asked.
“Probably not. They would’ve fled or Vindar would’ve executed them.”
I looked over at the two Drow guarding the doorway. Despite being renowned for excellent hearing, the guards took no notice of us, no doubt because of the spell I cast over us earlier. A good Ignore Me spell concealed not only us but also made our voices sound like the ambient noise of wherever we went. It wasn’t foolproof and I was concerned that the Drow would’ve seen us if they had truly been looking for danger, but by their posture, I could tell that they were mostly bored.
“Come on, let’s take the alcove to get over there.” I stepped toward the alcove and turned to Li’alla when she didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Something is alive over there.” She kept her voice to a whisper even though the guards wouldn’t hear us in a normal voice.
Concerned, I switched to my mage sight and looked over the entire alcove. The alcove remained dark and without auras. I then looked for magic. Again, nothing. I shook my head. “I don’t see anything.”
She trembled, despite my reassurances. “I sense something…”
“A disturbance in the Force?” I grinned. She gave me a blank look. “Star Wars? A New Hope?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Was that a joke?”
“Tough room,” I muttered. “Look, if it makes you feel better, we can walk outside the columns, but it risks getting discovered.”
I glanced at Tuzren, who shook his head emphatically. “I vote for the alcove.”
“All right. I can do that.” She nodded, but her voice was still shaky. I walked closest to the columns while Li’alla walked beside me, taking furtive glances at the dim alcove that stretched the entire length of the chamber. I watched everything, switching between mage sight and normal vision. I couldn’t stay in mage sight for very long because it didn’t illuminate things inanimate and nonmagical. That meant I could easily run into a column without seeing it. Still, I saw nothing that should have caused Li’alla trepidation.
We made it just halfway across the chamber when we heard the distinctive roar of battle behind us.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Weapons clanged and Elves shouted, but since I didn’t know Elvish, I could only guess the meaning. Screams echoed down the chamber and I grasped my cousin and pulled her into the alcove before she could object. We ducked behind one of the pillars as Drow wearing dragonscale fled other Drow on Nightmares. The new Drow wore mail and carried spears that appeared shorter than lances. Their mail looked burnished and darkened from heat tempering and I could tell they wore heavy gambesons beneath the armor to absorb most blows. Their blue and white surcoats shown with a coat of arms I’ve never seen: a rampant Nightmare with crossed swords.
“Fane’s colors,” Li’alla whispered. “He’ll kill us if he finds us.”
“Then, let’s get out of here.” I pulled her deeper into the shadows and she stiffened, no doubt fearful of whatever she sensed here. “I don’t see or sense anything with my mage sight.” I
hoped I could reassure her, but she was still terrified of what was in this place. Boogeyman or not, I’d rather take my chances with it than fight soldiers on horseback, or Nightmare-back. Sure, I had my magic, but given that I had nearly burned myself out with the Elementals, I didn’t have much hope that I could sustain a battle against an Elven mage who was obviously more powerful than I was.
“I don’t sense anything either,” Tuzren took to the air and led the way deeper into the gloom.
I recast the Ignore Me spell to strengthen it and we halted in front of statues of Elven warriors. Meantime, Fane’s Drow soldiers poured into the hall from the tunnel we had just come from. They chased Vindar’s Elves as they fled toward the door we needed to get through. One of Fane’s Drow charged a soldier and thrusted his spear into the Elf’s dragonscale armor. Vindar’s soldier screamed as the force slammed him into the ground. The spear point, as sharp as any bodkin arrow, cut into the dragonscale and impaled the Drow. He thrashed, pinned like a bug in an exhibit into the hard ground. I stared in shock. The spear points looked a lot like my Vorpal blade.
The Elf’s thrashing slowed and then stopped. The rider grasped his spear and pulled it from the body almost effortlessly. He held the bloody thing aloft, splattering his face and armor with gore.
I had a moment to study the psychopath. His lips curled upward and his eyes flashed with an insane joy as his Nightmare pranced and snorted, before it dipped down and ripped into the soldier’s armor to take out a chunk of bloody flesh. The Nightmare chomped it up just like a normal horse would eat hay, but it was the rider I was most interested in. Unlike most Drow I’ve seen, he had dark gray skin and white hair with eyes that glowed red in the dim light. He licked his lips, savoring the blood, before turning to the other riders who followed him. He pointed to the door where Vindar’s guards had been; on seeing Fane’s riders, they fled through the door, no doubt bolting it. The other Drow in red dragonscale armor, on seeing their only escape route cut off, panicked. A few chose to fight at the door, but most ran into both sides of the alcove.
I cursed under my breath as the psychopath Drow directed his riders to the alcoves and to the few who dared stand against him. And then, he looked right at me. And he smiled.
“Oh, shit.” I heard Li’alla gasp under her breath.
I grabbed her arm and ran toward the statues, not caring if there was something dangerous among them. I’d fight whatever it was here rather than get slaughtered.
“Wow, he’s crazy.” Tuzren flew by me. “We might want to turn around and get the fuck out of here.”
I glanced at Tuzren. I knew he couldn’t transport us, but he could teleport out at any time by himself. “Get the hell out of here!” I told him as we ran alongside the statues.
The psychopath Drow spurred his Nightmare towards us; both their eyes glowed red in anticipation of killing us. Panic set in and I found myself shouting, “Thurisaz!”, and focusing on being anywhere but here.
The whole world shifted and power thrummed through me as a portal opened up before us. I turned around, panting, and threw several fireballs at the rider and horse. I then dived through the Gateway.
I rolled as I hit the ground on the other side. Li’alla and Tuzren were already through and somewhat recovered. I leapt to my feet to see the fireballs impact on the Fane warrior’s shield. He laughed and plowed right through the fireballs and towards the Gateway.
“Nunc clauserunt!” I shouted and the Gateway began to close, agonizingly slow. The Fane warrior laughed at my attempt to close it and shoved his spear through the opening. The spear cut into reality and widened the gap.
I turned to my friends. “Run!” Tuzren grasped Li’alla’s hand and started pulling her away. I drew the Vorpal blade.
Terrified. That would be a good description of what I felt. But the spear head did look a lot like the same metal as the Vorpal blade. I charged the warrior as he widened the Gateway so both he and the Nightmare could come through.
“Little mortal, what are you doing here in Dark Elven territory?” The warrior’s smile was more of a snarl. The Gateway was still closing, but the Nightmare was halfway through. If the warrior got to the other side, it would only be a matter of time before he killed us.
“Nice to know you’ve figured that out.” I swung the Vorpal blade at his spear as he pushed through the Gateway. The Vorpal blade cut through his shield and slammed into the spear’s haft, cutting it cleanly in two.
“What?” He roared as I cut upward and sliced through the Nightmare’s neck, decapitating it. Its dark blood sprayed everywhere and coated me with thick, black ichor. The Nightmare collapsed and the Gateway snapped shut, leaving the insane rider on the other side.
The front half of the Nightmare lay in front of me. The stench reeked and I dry heaved a couple of times, barely able to keep my food down. I stumbled away and lit a mage light in the hopes I could figure out where I was.
Unlike the archive this place was more like the alcoves on either side of the chamber. Statues of Elven warriors who no doubt at one time did amazing deeds lined both sides of the walls in this oversized tunnel. Many of them had plaques that attested to their greatness. Of course, it was written in the Dark Elf language, which I knew nothing about, but the statues were impressive, nonetheless. I switched to my mage sight and saw flickers of a green aura ahead. I could also see Tuzren’s demon aura as well—his was red with black streaks throughout it. I closed my eyes and thought hard to the little demon.
You okay? I heard Tuzren’s voice in my head.
Yeah, but it was close, though. I briefed him on the fight.
I’ll let Li’alla know you’re okay and that crazy Elf isn’t here.
I walked to rejoin Li’alla and Tuzren when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I almost swore the statue moved for a brief moment, but when I turned towards it, it stayed still. I inspected it with my mage sight and saw a faint sparkle of magic. Turning to look at the other statues, I saw faint sparkles of the same type of magic.
Tuzren, check the statues for magic.
As I approached Tuzren and Li’alla, I had the uncanny feeling we were being watched. Li’alla’s gaze darted around us, especially at the statues and the dark corridors. “What is this place?” She whispered and her eyes were wide with fear.
“I don’t know; maybe a mausoleum?” I looked around trying to discern crypts, but there didn’t appear to be any.
“I don’t think so.” The little demon perched on my shoulder again. “I sense the magic you do, but I don’t know what’s causing it.”
“Perhaps more importantly is where are we?” I looked around, trying to recognize any landmarks. As far as I could tell, the tunnel went for miles, branching out with more tunnels that held more statues. It was as though there were an army of Dark Elf statues here. It reminded me a lot of the terracotta army that was buried with the first Chinese emperor, even though these statues appeared to be carved from marble. The workmanship was incredible, but having them imbued with magic made them puzzling. Why did they have magic?
Tuzren shook his head. “I’ve never been in this part of the tunnels. I can, however, try to find out where we are in relation to the Elfshot.”
“I’d rather you stay here,” Li’alla said.
I turned to her. “The statues?”
“They’re alive—I can feel it.” She shook her head at my incredulous expression. “Maybe not alive, per se, but they’re animate. I can feel them watching us and moving when we turn away.”
Tuzren glanced at me. “What do you want me to do?”
I sighed. “I’ve been getting hinky feelings with them too. I don’t know what they want or what their purpose is, so maybe we need to stick together.”
“Well, we can’t just wander here and hope we get out or find the Elfshot either.” Li’alla rubbed her arms as if cold, even though the tunnels were sweltering.
“Let’s first rest before deciding what we’re going to do. Do either
of you have water on you? I’m out.”
“I have soft drink,” the demon offered.
“That will do.” I cast a couple more mage lights and slowly sank to the ground to rest. I pulled out the grimoire and studied it, taking a can of Coke from Tuzren’s claws. Li’alla stayed standing up and paced while I looked for a location spell in the book. Tuzren sat on my shoulders again and watched as I turned the pages. Li’alla continued to rub her arms as she walked back and forth. I took a swig of the Coke. Despite it being lukewarm, it gave me a shot of energy and made me feel better. I watched Li’alla for a couple of moments. “How does Fae magic work?”
Li’alla stopped and cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“Obviously it’s different than wizardry. It feels different—not like the type of magic I’m used to wielding. Elryn taught me how to create portals using it, and Nana claims I have it, so apparently I do. It feels foreign and intense. And it doesn’t seem to care what language you use.”
Li’alla shrugged. “Most Dark Elves have some magic. It’s innate. We just use it.”
I pondered her statement. Technically wizardry used words, gestures, or even wands or staffs to focus the magic and link it to our wills, but I had seen Elryn use magic without a focal object. When she taught me how to make a Gateway to Eir’s, she had me use a false focus word to create it. She seemed to think that all I had to do was concentrate on what I wanted to do. “Nana said I do have Fae magic in me, or was she saying that to make me feel better?”
Li’alla nodded. “You have Fae magic, just untrained. Problem is, no one can really teach you how to use it.”
“Why is that?”
“Elves grow up learning it on their own. Eventually, our parents or a relative can teach us more complex magic, but it all comes from inside us. Not books.”
“Hmm, so I just think where we want to go and follow it?”
“Something like that, yes.” She nodded.