16-18

Sections 16-18, Chapter Two is complete. :D This makes me happy.

 

16 GHOSTS II

 

S

moke billowed from a deep pit in the earth and a short man stood beside it with a placid smile, turning a spit over the deep yellow flames. The scent wafted under their noses and set their mouths to water – Liasis turned to Boidae and cracked a small, exposing too many teeth.  Whatever the little man was cooking, it was divine, and neither could wait to devour it, with the rest of the food they had accumulated. It should all last through the rest of the two day journey. It should. Boidae hiked his satchel of food over his shoulder and shifted upon his feet. The axe’s had been fitted with straps down the dirt road, and were now slung over their shoulders, upon the opposite side of their respective rucksacks. Boidae bowed his head and gazed upon the pit, the flames licking the blackened walls of earth.

The man, who was called Vinous, took a deep breath and his smile broadened, his small teeth showing.

“It is done.”

He said, and lifted the spit from the rack, pushing it into its own lined back, the juices seeped from the flesh and pooled at the bottom. Boidae and Liasis licked their lips and took the parcel with an exchange of three Bits. The little piece of fruit had cause Boidae two, and this succulent hunk of meat was three – he understood fully what Liasis had been talking about.

Tsaris stood silent at their sides and waited, her fingers interlocked at her waistline.

“Anything else, sirs?”

“No, Tsaris, I do believe this shall suffice. Thank you.”

“Then follow me, sirs. I’ll lead you to the exterior wall and see you on your way. But I should warn you, the next Burrow you arrive to will be Descensus. They do not take kindly to outsiders, especially from The Grotto. We have nursed many of your pilgrims back to health.”

“So we’ve heard. We came prepared.”

Boidae continued, fingering the blade of the axe tucked against his hip.

“Do not be overconfident, Sir. They are vicious.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

Boidae said, and he meant it. He may have sounded arrogant, but deep in the pit of his stomach was a wicked fear gnawing away. They had lucked out with The Securus, and its kind population, but beyond these walls, he doubted very seriously, that they would be as hospitable. It was for Descensus that they had armed themselves. It was for those savages.

“Here we are.”

Tsaris said, gazing up upon the exquisitely sculpted doors. Sprawling figures reached toward the ceiling, their faces passive and terrified in the same turn; some stood as tall as Boidae and Liasis, while many were as short as Tsaris and Angustus. The doors parted, their heavy steel squelched to the hilt, and lining the walls of this tunnel were more flickering lamps. Boidae and Liasis both turned to thank the girl once more, but she had gone and they were left to gaze upon the city that shone from the very walls, the people and the buildings themselves, from the great statues, from the earthen ground. They would miss this place in the kilometres to come, and as they crossed the threshold and felt the doors close behind them, they felt the icy chill of the corridor. It was a chill Boidae had not felt since the dankness of the Outer Rim.

“I smell children here…”

Boidae said to himself, remembering Jackdaw’s mantra.

They set off to Descensus and did not look back again. It was better at Securus, but they were on a mission from The Magus. The Magus, Boidae still wondered what Angustus had meant by his words about the cloaked figure. Mildew penetrated his nose and he coughed into his fist what felt like particles of dust or grime, with the bittersweet taste of mould.

“God.”

He said.

“Does not live in the Burrows, my brother.

He is not welcome here, nor does he have anything to do with us.

All for the same reason, brother – The Magus.”

“What are you talking about?”

“On the streets, it is said that God tried to intervene in the Burrows, and he came from the Outer Rim, from where you were stationed, and that is why there are always guardians there, but it is also said that The Magus banished him from The Burrows.”

“You’ve lost your damn mind, Liasis.”

“No, Boidae – this is what is said on the streets of The Grotto.”

“Then you’re just a damn fool for believing such tall tales.”

“Tall tales? Like the savages of Descensus? No Sir, all know the story of God and The Magus, just as they know of the fiends of Descensus. They know, and they tell the stories.”

Boidae scoffed and picked up his pace.

“Descensus is real, this c**k and bull story about God being banished by The Magus is complete bollocks, mate.”

“You’ll see, brother. When we return to The Grotto, we’ll ask The Magus, and he’ll tell you…”

“Anything to bolster the fear that runs through The Grotto of him.

Listen, he is a man of power. Some of the stories that are told about him may be true, are true, but others are just propaganda to keep you all living in fear.”

“No, Boidae. They’re all true.”

Boidae shook his head and turned to his brother, stopping in the middle of the tunnel with an arm stretched out.

“Stop.”

He said, and his brother flashed him a curious stare.

“What?”

“Listen to me, Liasis – The Magus did not punch out God, is that understood? There is no way!”

His voice rung through the tunnel.

“And how do you know?”

“God does not exist, Liasis.”

Boidae turned from his brother without another word and resumed walking. The torches were growing closer and closer together now, and Boidae had the impression they were nearing Descensus. They had split the meat upon entering the tunnel, and the path was littered with the fine bones of the animal, but their stomachs were full, and they were ready for whatever was to come.

“I smell children here…”

Boidae said under his breath once again as they approached the wrought iron gate. Their faces contorted with a horror – upon each spike of the gate, there was a head mounted; the mouths were slack and toothless, and the deep rust colour of dried blood dripped down. They had been hidden in the shadows, and were only visible now, up close, and Boidae felt his stomach lurch, the state of decay was infinite, and some of the flesh hung from the ghost white skulls in chunks.

“Ex nihilo Nihil fit – nothing may come from nothing.”

Boidae said, translating it without a second thought for his brother.

“What do you think that means?”

“Hell, if I know, kid. But it does not bode well at all.

Not for us, at least. And not for them.”

He gestured to the dozen heads mounted, as a warning for trespassers. He cursed and examined the lock. It was feeble, a chain strung between the posts and a rusted lock. Boidae moved the axe to his hand and looked to his brother, silently telling him to do the same.

“Ready?”

And without waiting for a response, he brought the heavy blade down upon the chain. It splintered and fell to the earth with a clatter. They heard something scrape inside the Burrow, inside Descensus, something scream hollow and soulless, and with the head of the axe, Boidae pushed the gate open and listened to its own scream of merciless malice. A chunk of flesh from one of the skulls fell with a wet smacking sound against the earth.

Stuttering feet and claws sounded throughout the infinitely dark Burrow. Boidae and Liasis could see, just barely, inky spots in the blackness of ramshackle buildings in states of decay and disrepair. Another howl pierced the silence, and they crossed the threshold, their vision shifting perspectives so that they could see more clearly in the iniquity. Eyes that gleamed stared at them from the darkness, mountain lions on the prowl and hungry for blood.

“What the hell are we doing here?”

Liasis whispered harshly in Boidae’s ear.

“We’re just passing through, Liasis. Keep quiet. Stay on the path. Maybe they won’t…”

Whatever he hoped they wouldn’t do was shattered with a guttural cry, not of pain or torture, but a battle cry. They heard feet stampeding toward them in the darkness, and they pressed their backs together. Each swore loudly and gripped their axes tighter. Boidae knew what had to be done, and he knew that they had to make it out of here alive. They could stand and fight and kill them all, or they could bolt and kill anything that came across their way. The feet stopped, and Boidae could see them, their eyes glittering. They had formed a circle around the brothers, and began swaying side to side. With each side step the brothers took, the circle followed them but did not attack. They hung in the silence, watching and waiting.

From the darkness they heard it, from the edge of Descensus, they felt it; heavy footfalls that vibrated the entire Burrow. Boidae groaned and searched beyond the circle of swaying, gnawing beasts and saw it.

“Oh Christ.”

“He doesn’t have anything to do with this, either, brother.”

Liasis said and his voice quaked with fear, for he saw it too.

“Nykine, Nykine, Nykine…”

The voices from the circle chanted.

 

17 GHOSTS II

 

“A

nd then, I called you, had you wire the money to my account, and set off for the aqueduct, for here.”

“Really? It went off that clear?”

“More or less, yeah. There were some snags, but there always are, right?”

“That’s so awesome, Atticus.”

“Well, it was until I dropped it down into the damn sewer and ran into Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.

But hey, what’s a sneakthief to do when cops are rolling up, right? They’ll idly watch a man being bludgeoned to death in broad daylight, but they’d stop me in half a heartbeat, just for looking suspicious.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Atticus?”

“Nothing, nothing. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.”

She said, sipping her coffee and giving him a once over with her eyes. The look may have been any number of things, and Atticus dare not make an assumption.

“Let’s head on to the park, right?”

“Yeah, that works. Could be fun.”

Atticus pushed off from the wall and turned down the aqueduct. The rain seemed to have stopped, at least for awhile. 

“Hey wait…

Let’s head to The Heights?”

Claudia turned and looked at him, a curious expression playing at her face.

“Yeah, alright.”

 

Darkness echoed and shook; and the behemoth Nykine drew closer, nine metres high and covered in thick fur. Boidae panicked and swung the axe over his shoulder. He turned to look at his brother and saw the fear in his eyes, the same fear that had to be in his.

“The only way out is through, brother. We’re going to have to go through the peons to avoid the beast, and get out before he devours us. It’s the only way, man. The only way.”

He heard the tremor in his voice and retrieved the axe, the heavy leather sling swung toward his feet. They both knew it was the only way, and as the giant moved toward them, closer and closer, they surveyed the direction toward where the exit had to be. In the iniquity, Boidae saw the flicker of torches beyond another gate. Twenty metres and they’d be free. There was no way that the monster could leave, and the inhabitants would be coming to a bottle neck if it came to that. It would make the fight easier.

“Let’s go, brother.

For Jackdaw.”

There was strength in Liasis’s voice, and determination.

“Run!”

Boidae bellowed and sprinted toward the Descensians, and with a flash of silver in the darkness, he felt the handle vibrate as the blade crushed the skull of one. The rest howled, as did Nykine, and they stepped from the frying pan into the fire. The rabid beasts pounced and clawed, chewing at their flesh and one another – no one was safe in the melee, and as the brothers pushed through, they fell two at a time. As the brothers approached the exit, they found the Descensians coming out of the woodwork, from their hollows and hovels.

Nykine did not know what to do, and his feet came down on buildings, Descensians, and very close to Boidae. The stench was overwhelming. It was no longer mould and mildew, but decayed blood and sweat, the feverish smell of death. Boidae almost retched, but pulled the bile and vomit down into his stomach with a shudder. He felt the sting of claws and teeth, and the vibrating earth of the monster. His mind was on fire, and his arm did not stop. Heads rolled like bowling balls away from them and into the depths of iniquity.

Liasis screamed a pained war cry, and spat blood onto his brother’s face. Boidae paused for a second, but watched as his brother brought the axe behind him and severed an arm of a Descensian, the beast fell and was trampled by his brethren, his skull crushed by the clawed feet.

“S**t!”

Boidae shouted and turned on his heel, cutting a pair in half, four equal parts falling to the ground. He snickered and saw the gate, they were close, and he grabbed his brother and pulled him to the gate, Boidae knocked the chain to the floor with a spark from the head of his axe. The clatter could not be heard over the din of the warriors, but the spark caused them to pause their attack, and the brothers stepped back, across the threshold.

In the dim light of the tunnel, they watched as the Descensians stayed inside their Burrow, hovering around the entrance, but not daring to cross it. Nykine came behind them and stood, the great master of a fallen race. He did not push them forward or give a rallying cry – instead, the monster turned and left. All Boidae could assume was that he went back to his hollow inside the earth to await more unwelcome trespassers. There would be more, all were sure of that, even the outsiders.

“Why – why’d they stop there?”

“I don’t know, Liasis. I don’t know.”

Boidae said, his sentence drifting of to nothing as he watched the torches in their brackets mounted high on the wall.

“The light, I suppose.

Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Liasis stepped to his brother and pulled at the torn cloak, blood seeping black from the gashes. He frowned and looked at his own wounds –

“This could be problematic, Boidae.”

“Yeah, I know. Let’s just hope the next Burrow can help. Tsaris said they had helped many a-folk from here, maybe the next Burrow will have had the same experience.”

“Hopefully, yes.”

The brothers swung their axes over their shoulders and continued down the tunnel, faces contorted with pain, with deep winces at each step. Boidae was beginning to feel light headed, and he was forced to lean against the wall of the tunnel to keep upright; with a stolen glance, he saw that Liasis was doing the same. It was pathetic, he thought, but they were still moving and far in the distance, he could see the next entrance. They would be there soon; they would make it he told himself, closing his eyes to push through the pain.

“Got to push through.”

He groaned as dirt fell down the side of his face and his clothes in great chunks.

“I think, when we get back to The Grotto, we need to have The Magus or someone go down there and burn ‘em down.”

“Yeah, use one of the Surfacer’s devices and nuke ‘em.”

Boidae added with a feeble, painful chortle. He coughed blood onto the wall, black as oil and just as thick, dripping in slow motion down the dark earth. It was bitter in the back of his throat, and what he had bit back in Descensus dropped him to his knees and spewed forth from betwixt his lips. It was acid green and foamed on the floor upon impact. He groaned and felt his brother beside him, rubbing his back and helping him to his feet. Boidae heaved again and watched the Granny Smith Green string of spittle hang from his bottom lip. It glistened in the darkness, sung back and clung to his robes. Liasis helped him along, his body little more than a sack of dead weight.

Boidae’s eyes were locked on the spit still dripping from his lips, now tinged with blood.

The dull torches were dimming and Boidae was only vaguely aware of the way his head lulled around his shoulders. His eyes were closed, but when his brother stopped, so did he.

“We’re here, Boidae. We’re here.”

“Let’s hope they’re a damn sight nicer than the Descensians.”

His voice was hollow, Liasis could barely hear the words but smiled and his feeble laugh was more than his brothers, which was more of a raspy whisper of a laugh.

Liasis’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach and he hammered with reckless abandon upon the heavy wooden doors of the next Burrow. The inscription was faint; he could read it, but could not translate.

“It says; Beatus homo qui invenit sapentiam.

What does that mean, brother?”

He quoted and asked as he waited for the doors to open upon this mysterious Burrow.

“Boidae?!”

 

18 GHOSTS III

 

T

he door opened and the dead weight that was Boidae fell upon the entryway. Liasis turned and grimaced with pain as he let out a primal scream back toward Descensus. His brother twitched in the light of this Burrow, and he looked to the hollow faced man that stood before him in a long white cloak. The man’s face was purposefully scarred and stained with red, with impassive eyes staring down upon the two from The Grotto.

What do you seek?

His voice was deep and lined with razorblades, but his mouth did not seem to move.

Help!

Liasis bellowed inside his own head, before his lips processed the thought and parted. The man shook his head and looked over his shoulder.

Christ, man. Help us!

Help will be here, son. Your friend will be safe with us.

We will take proper care of him, son. Do not distress.

Liasis became aware that the words he heard were not in his ears, but inside his head.

You’re in my head?

Yes, son. We are. Do not be scared, he will be safe. Trust in us.

Sir, what is your name?

My people call me The Oracle.

I am Liasis, and this is my brother Boidae. We come from the…

I know, you come from The Grotto, on a search for Mr Lapin. You will find him in the next Burrow, but be careful, and mindful. You have fought and survived much already on this Journey to lose the white rabbit. There is too much at stake for you and your brother. He is hard to catch and he is fast, and wary of strangers.

In the distance, there was much commotion and from a crowd of stoic pedestrians came another tall man, but he was not dressed in white, but the richest of purples. His cloak was long, his face lined and his hands gnarled. A low buzz sounded throughout the Burrow, not of voices, but more of an electrical hum. As the man stepped upon the dais, Liases found himself compelled backward and his eyes flew to The Oracle.

He is a healer, and your brother will be right as rain before long. After he is finished, he will look at you, but as I’m sure you would agree, he is much worse for the wear.

Yes, yes. Without a doubt. Sir, may I ask, where are we?

Anoniem. We were founded well after The Grotto, well after Descensus or Securus, after Fulguralis. After the surface.

One more thing, Sir, if you do not mind?

Oh yes, that – Blessed is the man who finds wisdom.

Thank you. I do apologise, but Boidae has been translating each for me as we pass through, and yes, I’m sure you understand. I needed to know.

Of course, the mundane help keep our minds at ease in time of crisis.

A low grumble came from Liasis’s feet, and his eyes returned to his brother who was stirring, with a shock at the lined man standing over him. He scuttled backward into Liasis’s feet and looked up, over his shoulder.

“What the…?”

Liasis placed a finger to his lips and reached down to grab his brothers flailing hand, helping him to his feet. He surveyed the robes; and the flesh underneath – he was without a scratch, and the healer was descending upon him. A warm sensation crept over his flesh as the bleeding wounds stitched themselves back together and the blood faded away. Again, Boidae made an attempt to speak, but Liasis clamped his hand over his brother’s mouth and looked to The Oracle.

We thank you, sincerely.

The thoughts flowed from his frontal lobe.

You are fine, son. Just do me one favour:

Tell your Magus that I said ‘hello’.

Will do.

Liasis turned to Boidae and watched the cognition spread over his face, and Liasis smiled. His brother had heard The Oracle’s voice inside his own head, as well.

Your quest shall end in the next Burrow, and I wish you the best of luck, but remember – Lapin is a cagey character and is hard to find, let alone bring quietly.

How will we…

You’ll recognise him when you see him. He’s unmistakeable there. Also, let me say this – if you’re ever in need of somewhere to stay, you’re always invited here. This is the place for those who do not fit in their home territories.

Thank you, Oracle.

The healer had stepped away from Liasis and was lost in the crowd of bystanders that parted like a great sea, and pointed them in the direction of the exit.

This corridor was higher and began to rise toward the surface; the ceilings were vaulted and the floors covered. The torches were larger, closer together, and on the whole, this tunnel was lit almost comparable to Securus – it was bright. Boidae examined it as far as his eyes could go, but could not see the entrance. His feet were beginning to hurt, this was true, but his memories of Descensus and the travel to Anoniem were still with him, and it was no comparison. A little soreness could not equate to a near death experience, and he didn’t try to pretend so. It was also all trivial to the whole of their quest. 

“So…

What the hell was that, back there?”

Boidae asked with a glance back to his brother.

“I don’t know, Boidae. All I do know is that, if it hadn’t been for them, you wouldn’t be here, that’s for damn sure, sir. And you wouldn’t be able to retrieve Lapin for The Magus to have Jackdaw interred.”

“We need to get moving. Period. We need to get to Fulguralis and obtain this Mr Lapin.”

“Hey, Boidae – what do you think will happen after Jackdaw is buried?”

“Probably sent back to the Outer Rim.”

“You think?”

There was disappointment in the boy’s voice as he caught up with his brother.

“Yeah, why?”

Boidae paused and eyed Liasis.

“I don’t know, I’d like to get to know you, right.”

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t know, never mind. Let’s get Lapin.”

Liasis looked crestfallen as he started off down the corridor again, eyes marked on a spot on the floor, his vision brushing the tips of his boots. He wasn’t sure why, but he had hoped his brother would be able to stay in The Grotto and that they could form a friendship, the way brothers did. He coughed into his fist and sniffled a little, biting back the bitter disappointment rising in his throat, and holding his head high, he saw the first flicker of Fulguralis. Liasis looked back over his shoulder to see his brother, still standing fifty metres behind him, dumbstruck.

“Boidae! We’re almost there!

I see the entrance, couldn’t be more than a quarter mile. C’mon!”

The words shook Boidae from his trance and set him off at a brisk jog down the tunnel to meet his brother. The door was down the way, and a flicker of a smile crossed his lips before his jog became an outright run. They were almost there, almost halfway done with this hellish journey. Halfway, and he began to ponder alternative routes through the Burrows. He did not wish to trespass upon Descensus again. Awkward and stumbling, he approached the epic wooden doors; the blonde lumber was lined and marred heavily by knots and grain, and upon them was carved, not a phrase, but a phoenix, rising from the ashes. The message was unclear, but Boidae thought he understood. His feet and body ached; his head throbbed so hard he wondered if he would have an embolism pop as soon as he pushed these double doors open. They were halfway there, halfway to having his friend and mentor buried. Or, at least a third of the way, he added, if what the man in the last Burrow had been right, that Mr Lapin would not come peaceably, of his own accord.

Boidae looked to his brother with a feeble smiled, and pressed both hands against one half of the double doors. Liasis did not ask what the elaborate phoenix meant, all he did was stare hard into the eyes of his brother, a deep cognition set deep in their darkness – it was as if the image spoke to both of them, as though it had made everything clear. Whatever happened on this journey was not an end, to anything, but a new beginning. They understood, beyond words, and together, as one, they pushed through the doors.

There was no screeching or wailing, there was no sound at all, and the darkened village that sprawled out before them, was silent itself. In the centre was a tower of light, and just there, at the edge of Boidae’s peripheral, was a flicker of white tailcoats passing between a pair of ramshackle buildings. The brothers clambered down the smooth stone steps and turned in the direction of who had to be Mr Lapin. It all slipped into place, and they split at the copse of humble abodes, their windows and open doorways dark, giving them the vacant expressions of dead faces, with their thatched roof as the colour and texture of rough, straw coloured hair.

Their earthen facades were the colour of smoke, and as the brothers parted ways, they began their true quest, the search for the illustrious Mr Lapin. Their eyes darted down each alleyway, searching the odd golden half-light and shadows for the flash of white that was their query.

Boidae’s ears were pricked and he heard a scratching, like that of rat’s feet, in the distance, toward the centre, and he cut between the buildings and began wending his way toward the core of this spiral, which was what it appeared to be. He didn’t see any other sign of movement, and it disconcerted his mind and nerves. It wasn’t natural, for a Burrow to be empty, save for one soul, it just could not happen. He stood high, and searched for something, anything to point him in the right direction, and there was not even a scarecrow to tell him to go both ways. He cursed under his breath and turned on the spot, another flash of white caught his eye and he bounded off in that direction.

There, down the alleyway, he saw the man in a white coat and pants, a wisp of flyaway hair and a silver pocket watch held in one hand, while the other adjusted a porcelain teacup upon a long table, set for eight with no one there. The man adjusted it with care and turned, skittering off down between another low corridor of buildings. Boidae crept behind, watching with bemused interest as the small man fixed a chair at another table, this one round and set for three, the whole thing was almost comical to Boidae as he slipped closer, but his approach was hindered.

Somewhere in the distance, a clatter, loud as a gunshot rang out, the sound of Liasis knocking a table and chairs over. Lapin’s eyes shot toward Boidae, and Boidae noticed for the first time the deep cataracts that clouded the man’s eyes. Milky white and blank, they stared through Boidae for a long second before the body tore off deeper toward the centre. Again, Boidae was left to curse under his breath and follow the blinded man deeper into this labyrinth. The throbbing in his head increased as the golden shine brightened, and the ache in his body mounted, tearing through his muscles, down to the very bone like the teeth of the heathens from Descensus. It was as though it was all happening again, as he continued to creep toward Lapin again.

This attempt would not fail – the man was blind, all Boidae had to do was remain quiet, and as he sidled down the alleyway, he could smell the sweet fragrance coming from the man, the scent of potpourri. His noise wrinkled against it, and he drew closer, an arm outstretched. There, and his fingers closed around the collar of Lapin’s coat, around the thin and bony shoulder, and the man seemed to be utterly oblivious.

“He sent you, didn’t he?”

Frail and feeble, the voice croaked from his throat.

“He?”

“Don’t play coy, boy. The Magus.”

“Yes.”

“It will do him no good, but I will come with.”

“We will have to travel through Descensus, Sir. Can you ma…”

“No, I cannot, and we will not. There is another way.”

“But how?”

“There is another way. Find your companion and follow me…”

“Boidae, and my brother Liasis.”

“Yes, of course. Yes. We shall go another way.”

“And what way is that, Sir?”

“Just follow me, find your brother and come along. We do not have long.”

Boidae was about to as why, but Lapin responded before his lips had even parted.

“No more questions, we’re on a time table. I’ll meet you at the exit, the opposite end once you have fetched your brother. Go, we must.”

Boidae watched the tails of the coat swish away, as the man made his way toward the centre and presumably through to the other end, and he himself, set off toward where he had heard the crash, calling for his brother. The search was short, he had been set off in their direction once he had heard the voices, and together they set through the centre, past the glowing tower. It rose high, almost as high as The Grotto’s tower, and through the opposite side, they saw that no one, in fact lived in this Burrow, aside from the illustrious Mr Lapin. Both exchanged disturbed, curious glances and met Mr Lapin at the exit; a round, steel door set in the earth, much like the one that lead from The Grotto to the Outer Rim.

Boidae had a shrewd idea of where they were headed, of the alternate path Lapin had spoken of – The Surface.  He had travelled through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, he had survived Descensus, but The Surface terrified him. It was the one rumour of The Hierarchy he understood, he believed in – The Surface was not for them, but the blind man opened the door and led them across the threshold, toward the Outer Rim and toward The Surface.

The trio set off along the rough hewn slope upward, without a word between them. The blind man led them on their way, into the depths of the darkness, toward the rising sun. Boidae had merely seen the surface once, the day Jackdaw was killed, and even then, unable to make it through the manhole cover, for his rage, it was a terrifying prospect, but worth the cost if he had been able to capture and dispose of the Surfacers. She, in particular. She had killed him, and would receive her penance once Jackdaw was interred. This fire settled in his gut and his steps strengthened as he followed Lapin up the rocky slope, oblivious to his brother’s presence, several yards behind.

They reached the Outer Rim in no time flat, and directly over the exit from The Burrows was a manhole cover leading to The Surface. It all felt too damn simple, but Boidae followed the blind codger up the cast iron steps, and through the hole cut into the Surface, he breathed fresh oxygen for the first time in his life. It did not smell of damp earth, or mildew or mould, it smelt of nothing, and staring up into the storm clouds, Boidae stretched his arms. He stepped forward and peered into the alleyway, littered with empty and broken bottles, crushed and damp boxes, and other debris of the city. His toe brushed a used condom and watched it break away from decay. His heavy cloak was smattered with rain, and his senses were overloaded as his brother clambered through the street. They both blinked in the light; dim as it was, it was still brighter than anywhere down below, excepting, maybe, Securus.

“Are we walking?”

“No boy, we are taking a taxi.”

The old man answered with a wry grin as he moved to the mouth of the alley and stuck his hand into the air, hailing a beat up, yellow, horseless chariot. It was loud and puffed smoke from the end, but Boidae did not speak a word, nor did his brother, instead they situated themselves in the backseat. Large as they were, it was an uncomfortable fit, and Lapin took the passenger seat, his milky eyes staring out through the windshield, and spoke to the driver. If he had any confusion, his dark skin and deep, black eyes did not show it as he set off down the street.

Boidae and Liasis, in the back, stared out the side glass to the skyscrapers above with immense curiosity, the mirrored glass reflected their taxi, and warped it beyond recognition. They could find no words to express themselves, and sat in silence, Lapin in the front seat and directing, in small, slow words, the driver. A flash of lightning terrified the brothers and they closed together, hands pressed against the cool glass, fogging up with their body heat. Boidae wanted to claw his way through the door, and Liasis wanted to cry, but neither did either. They sat and they waited for the old man’s instructions to them, and Boidae was beginning to wonder if they had set themselves into a trap set by Br’er Rabbit.

As the taxi slowed to a stop at a narrow alleyway, Lapin removed a small bundle of bills from the pocket of his tailcoat, and handed the man two folded bills, with a whisper inaudible to the brothers, but when he stepped out onto the sidewalk, they followed without being told, and they followed him down the stone steps that lead to steel grated steps, down into a hollow in the earth. It seemed to stretch for miles, perhaps further than The Burrows, but coming upon another manhole cover, Boidae felt the recognition in his chest. The blind man lifted it with ease and skittered down the cast iron rungs. Boidae was in all-too-familiar territory – this was the Outer Rim segment where he had been stationed.

While it had taken days to reach Fulguralis, they had arrived in less than an hour by the horseless chariot.

“Silly boys did not think the Surface was good for anything, did you? No, you’d rather test your mettle by going through Descensus. Silly boys, Silly Grotto boys. That is your title now, boys. Silly Grotto Boys.”

Lapin continued to mutter silly, silly, silly, as they travelled down the corridor leading to The Grotto. They passed through the heavy steel door that led to the dimly lit Grotto, and Liasis skittered off to find Teiidae to tell her of his thrilling tale. Lapin and Boidae continued through The Grotto, through the market, toward The Hierarchy’s manse; the blind leading the resident through the heavy crowds milling around outside the storefronts and bodegas.

“Sir, how can you move so clearly?”

“What do you mean, boy? The blind are not as blind as they always appear.

Especially when they know the place better than thee.”

His sentence was punctuated by the revolving door of The Tower, and they crossed the lobby to the elevator. It was surreal for Boidae to think of all that had happened in such a short expanse of time – the death of Jackdaw, the knowledge of his brother, the travels through the other Burrows, and now – Lapin knowing the Grotto? As the elevator clicked its way toward the uppermost floor, Boidae tried to wrap his head around these thoughts at once, and when that failed, individually.

They watched the ticker mounted above the door, and as it approached The Magus’s office, Lapin stood closer to the door, his head held high and his crisp white suit glinting in the dim candlelight.

“Tell me, boy, why has The Magus sent for me?”

Lapin spoke, vacant eyes fixed on the crease between the doors of the lift.

“I do not know that, Sir.”

“Do not lie to me, boy. Tell the truth.

Why did he send you to fetch me?”

“Well, Sir, the only answer I can give that to you, is I asked a favour of him.”

“Yes, what favour would that be?”

“The burial of my mentor: he was killed my a pair of Surfacer’s morning before last.”

“And you brought him to The Magus?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, you are a silly boy.

You need not do that, and you need not pass through Descensus. You silly boy.

But you do surprise me.”

“Why is that, Sir?”

“No silly boy, as you are, should have survived Nykine.

Not at all. No, no.”

“Oh, well…”

“Do not thank me, it is not a compliment.

It’d have been better had you died, boy. You silly boy.”

“Will you cut that out?”

“No, you silly boy.

This is all your fault.

You shall be damned for this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“You could have interred your friend into the ground without The Magus, but you had to get The Magus involved. This is only the beginning boy, it’s only just begun. Whatever happens from here on out, is your own damn fault, you silly boy.”

The doors parted and the two men stepped out, to be greeted by The Magus, himself.

“Lapin, you have not been telling this boy lies of me, have you?”

The Magus spoke, his voice booming through the empty, hollow room, with the smallest flicker of a smile crossing his face. It was the only emotion Boidae had ever seen The Magus exhibit  and he was caught off guard.

“Sir.”

Boidae stepped forth,

“I am to send you a message; The Oracle sends his regards.”

“Does he now?”

“Silly, silly boy.”

Reviews

[S. J. Fisk]

BAH! Tell me you're still writing this! I swear, without me around to kick you in your arse, you'd never get any work done.

this is excellent, of course. Moves the story along nicely. I'm glad you decided to stay mostly with the brothers, with one short mention of those "surfacers". It moved their part of the story along nicely, but I really would have imagined that Liasis would have hung around longer once they reached the Grotto, or at least made a big stink over the good bye. I mean, especially considering he was all hopeful for some sort of brotherly relations to grow...I know you probably wanted to just get rid of him for this meeting with the Magus, but you should have done a bit more then send him fa-la-la-ing to his old teacher with a story on his lips. Tsk. Tsk.

Other than that and a few small editorial things, it's fabulous.