Ren of Atikala Read online

  IT FELT GOOD TO BE back under the ground. We once again had to pass through the lightless barrier between the underworld and the surface. We followed the light of my spell, working our way down and down, away from the brightness of the surface day.

  This time I wasn’t afraid. The gap between the surface and the blue crystals held no terrors for me, having endured the searing light of day. To return to the dark was a comfort.

  The humans would be after us. I knew enough about hunting to know how it would end, but I felt that this darkness would protect us. If I, who had lived underground for so long, feared the sightless black then they would be terrified of it.

  I couldn’t help remembering though, that we had seen humans in the underworld before.

  The darkness gave way to the familiar glow of the blue crystal rock, and I dismissed my spell. I spent a moment staring off into tunnels that were both completely unknown to me but somehow strangely familiar.

  Ssarsdale was nearby. The end of our journey, and the completion of our duty. All we had to do was get there.

  “I want to walk,” said Khavi. This time I didn’t argue. There was no choice. I let him off my back, and he walked alongside me, limping but functional, and together we set off down to the dim blue light.

  I saw more of the puddles of water here, and I knew now what their source was. The sky tears seeping in from above. I saw the occasional piece of tree embedded in the soil, and I knew what it was too. The surface had taught me so much about my own world. Despite the hardships and despite Khavi’s wound, I did not regret going. I valued knowledge. Leaders and sorcerers were encouraged to know things.

  “Halt,” said Khavi, his hand held to the side, yanking me from my thoughts.

  I stopped midstep, my foot hovering over the stone. Years of training and patrol work had conditioned me to obey commands like this without question. “What?”

  He leaned down, sniffing curiously, then extended a claw towards nothing. “A wire.”

  I couldn’t see anything. “Where?”

  “There, right in front of my claw. Don’t you see it?”

  I didn’t. I leaned down where he was pointing.

  There it was. Thin and devious, glinting in the faint blue light when viewed at the perfect angle. “Kobold manufacture,” I said, giving Khavi a wide smile. “We’re getting close.”

  “Close to our deaths,” he grumbled. “I wonder what would happen if we triggered it—”

  I reached out and grasped his wrist, holding it tightly so he could not move.

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  “I remember the spider’s den.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. He stepped over the wire, and I did too, then we continued on.

  We walked for hours but made good time despite Khavi’s injury. The ground sloped down, a vague spiral, which made the traversal easier. Going down was easier than going up.

  Hours passed. I had not slept yet, not properly, and I felt that fatigue gnaw at me. I should have seen that wire. I stifled a yawn, trying to keep my energy up. I had to make it to Ssarsdale. Now that I wasn’t carrying Khavi, and we were walking downhill, things were easier, but the trap we had narrowly avoided told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn’t relax. Not yet.

  The Ssarsdalians would give us quarters, food, and water. I could sleep then. What would life be like living in Ssarsdale? Ideas churned over in my head. I would be given new tasks, for certain. They would value another patrolman, but more than another soldier, they would value another sorcerer.

  For their magic and for breeding. My chest tightened. I wanted to know more of what Tyermumtican had said of this strange possession called love. Atikala had been kind in indulging my differences, up to a point, but would Ssarsdale?

  Perhaps it would be better if I never went there at all?

  I shook away the thought as soon as it started to chatter to me. No. I would face these challenges, and as I had with everything else, overcome them.

  “Halt,” said Khavi, once again dragging my tired, distracted mind back to reality.

  “What now?”

  “Don’t you hear that?”

  We both paused to listen. Voices, echoing down the chamber. Kobold voices.

  Ssarsdalians? It had to be. We were so close to their city I could smell it. “Let’s go!”

  Khavi couldn’t run, but he did his best to pick up the pace; we powered down the corridor, following the sound of voices as they grew louder and louder until we appeared in an open area with a low, flat ceiling.

  Almost a score of kobolds were camped here, spread out on the stone or gathered around dim light sources. Two guards stepped towards us, spears in hand, but lowered them when they saw us.

  “I am Ren of Atikala,” I said. “This is Khavi, of the same.”

  “Jorena of Atikala,” said the leader, “and Cevota, of the same.” She breathed an audible sigh. “We’re glad to see you. Do you have any supplies?”

  I surveyed the group. “What we have is yours. All these kobolds are from Atikala?”

  “Yes, we were making for Ssarsdale.”

  I took out a fair ration for myself from the haversack, handing the bulk of the remainder to Jorena. “As are we.”

  Jorena’s nose twitched as she examined the food, but her eyes turned to me. “I smell blood, are you wounded?”

  “Khavi is. Do you have a healer?”

  “Yes,” she said, gesturing with a claw to an aged and exhausted kobold tending one of her peers. “She is Praxa. But first, we should introduce you to Tzala.”

  It took me a second to process what she was telling me. A faint squeal escaped my lips, and my tail spasmed with happiness. “Tzala is here? She survived the collapse?”

  Jorena indicated to a robed kobold apart from the others. “She did,” said Jorena, her features falling. “But be kind to her. She has not been the same since the incident.”

  “I will,” I said, my concern for my teacher’s wellbeing almost overpowering. “Khavi, see the healer. I’ll be with Tzala if you need me.”

  Khavi went to get treated. I scampered over the cramped encampment, hopping from foot to foot to avoid stepping on those slumbering.

  “Tzala!” I said. “Tzala, it’s me! Ren!”

  The figure looked up, her hood falling back. Suddenly I was staring into Tzala’s surprised face. She was still wearing her amulet. I'd never been so glad to see anyone in my life.

  “Ren! By all of the dead Gods, how?”

  I laughed, crouching beside her. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’ve come a long, long way, but I’m here now. With you.” I smiled so much it hurt. “I thought you had surely been crushed.”

  “I thought you had surely been crushed! You were right outside the gate!” She reached out and touched my cheek. “I thought you were dead.”

  I rubbed my cheek against her hand. “And yet I still walk amongst the living. Fate is strange isn’t it?”

  Tzala was so pleased and so happy. It was the most sincere and joyful smile I’d ever seen from any kobold. “Most certainly.”

  “I’m so glad to see you’re alive.”

  She held up her left arm, the long flowing robe drooping off the end, and peeled back the sleeve with her right. Her left arm was just a stump, cut off just above the elbow. “More or less.”

  I stared at the bandaged wound. “What happened?”

  “My arm was pinned under debris. They cut it off to free me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You can still cast, yes?”

  A brief sadness crossed Tzala’s features. She rested her hand in her lap. “Yes,” she said, “I can still cast.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked, curling my tail around my ankles. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “I can still cast,” Tzala said, her tone bitter. “That’s all that matters, isn’t it? That I have value to the community?”

  I didn’t think so. Even if Tzala had lost both her claws, it wouldn’t change
what I thought about her. It was hard articulating myself, especially with so many others all around me. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  That seemed to mollify her. “I’m glad you think so.”

  I didn’t know how to say what I meant to say to her. “Do you want anything? Some water, food? I have some meat from a surface goat.”

  “Goat?” Tzala chuckled. “I have not eaten goat in a dragon’s lifetime. I think I would enjoy it. Thank you, Ren.”

  I fished out the last of the strips of Hungry and handed them over. Between her and Jorena I didn’t have much left, but I wanted Tzala to have it.

  “So you went to the surface, then?” asked Tzala between mouthfuls of the meat.

  “I did, to reach this tunnel.” I couldn’t suppress my joy. “And I saw a dragon! I spoke to him and everything!”

  She stopped eating, mid chew, her eyes fixating on me. “Did you.”

  “Yes, after the collapse we were—” I stopped myself. “Lost. We didn’t know where to go. So Khavi and I made our way to Tyermumtican. He nearly ate us both—and he ate Khavi’s sword—and I asked him about who I was.”

  Tzala did not seem to share my enthusiasm. “What did he tell you?” she asked cautiously.

  “Nothing.” I grit my teeth in frustration. “I begged him, but he wouldn’t tell me. He knew though. He said he knew, and that he wouldn’t tell me because that wasn’t who I was, or something like that.”

  Tzala said nothing.

  “You sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You’re being awfully quiet.”

  “Tell me more about the surface,” Tzala said. “What did you see there?”

  I didn’t want to tell her the truth, about Melicandra and the humans, but I had never withheld anything from Tzala. I told her everything I remembered, although I occasionally had to jump back or forward to relay a detail I had skipped or not remembered.

  “…and then the elf asked me about someone called Contremulus. I wasn’t sure what—”

  “The Sunscale is here?” Tzala nearly spat out her meat.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, frowning at her. “Tzala, what’s going on? What do you know of this Contremulus?”

  She stared at me, not saying anything for a time. When she spoke her words were carefully chosen. “Nothing but the name.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I had never doubted Tzala before. “Well, I don’t know either, but he is now far behind us.”

  Tzala looked away, staring down the tunnel where I had come. “Of course he is.”

  Khavi returned to me then, his chest freshly bandaged. “Praxa says that it is not as bad as we had thought,” he said, “but I will need to keep it clean and bathe it in alcohol to fight further infection.”

  I was glad to hear that. “Tzala, I will speak to you later, if you wish?”

  She dismissed me with a bow of her head. I stood and walked away with Khavi.

  “We are not far from Ssarsdale,” he said, “according to the healer. Half a day’s journey.”

  That would agree with my reckoning. “I remember that Tyermumtican’s map showed Ssarsdale being close to the surface. We can’t be far away.”

  Khavi looked over the other kobolds, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “We should leave this pack of starving cripples.”

  “Khavi!”

  “It’s true! They are a burden to us.”

  There was no way we were doing that. “What about our duty to the community?”

  “Our duty extends only to those who can participate. Tzala’s crippled. Many others are weak. The humans are following our trail. We don’t know how far behind they are, but they may catch us before we get to Ssarsdale. If they do they’ll butcher us all. We’re strong enough to make the journey ourselves. We should take anyone who isn’t just a waste of food and supplies and leave the others to slow the humans down.”

  “No. I didn’t abandon you when you needed me, and if I recall correctly, you took quite the risk to save me from the human village.”

  Khavi just threw his hands up. “Fine, condemn us to death, but technically you’re not in charge anymore. Tzala is a leader. She commands me now.”

  “Tzala will want to take all of us.” I was certain of this.

  “Bah, is everyone here soft shelled?”

  “We’re saving everyone. Get used to it.”

  Khavi gave a long exasperated sigh and turned to the rest of the kobolds preparing to pack up their camp and move on. “Compassions like this will be the end of us.” He glared at me. “Just remember what you promised,” he said, “when we get to Ssarsdale.”

  I wasn’t likely to forget.

  The survivors of Atikala must have made a depressing sight. A trail of kobolds, weary and footsore, trudging through the stone corridors of the underworld. We were beaten, homeless and short on supplies. Vagrants looking for a home amongst our cousins.

  With so many wounded, the group crawled at a slug’s pace, a chance for Khavi to heal further, and Tzala allowed me time to scout ahead for dead ends and ways we could shorten our route. I was pleased by the order. It would gave me time to think.

  Or so I thought. My mind was empty. I had not slept in a day and a half. I felt deathly tired; if I didn’t keep my focus, I would collapse in a heap. I couldn’t sleep, though. Not yet. When we reached Ssarsdale there would be a nice, cool piece of stone for me. Then I could sleep as much as I needed. Even the wellspring of magic within me seemed to be cold and quiet, hovering at a simmer.

  I didn’t find any more traps, and I managed to cut a few minutes off our journey. That was good. Given how tired I was and what I had been through, I thought this was acceptable.

  I was looking for another way down, trying to avoid an unstable passage deliberately sealed by rock when I stumbled upon the gates of Ssarsdale.

  Tall and iron, they looked exactly like those of Atikala, conjuring a million memories as I viewed them, overcome for a moment.

  It was just like home. It was home. I had made it. Ssarsdale.

  “Halt and identify yourself!” came a magically empowered voice from the doorway. I could see no speaker, but I knew of such magics from my studies. I licked my dry lips, straightened my back, and spoke at a normal speaking voice despite the distance.

  “I am Ren of Atikala, third patrol, first quarter.”

  “Welcome, Ren of Atikala. We recognise our allies, our cousins, and we welcome you. What business do you have in Ssarsdale?”

  There was some kind of finality about telling the unseen guard about what had happened. “I bring terrible news,” I said. “Atikala has been completely destroyed.”

  The speaker did not answer immediately. “Destroyed?”

  “Completely, with but a handful of survivors. They are further along the passage.”

  “How many survivors?”

  I tried to accurately recall the number from my memory. “Thirty or thereabouts. Please open the doors. We are being pursued and need sanctuary.”

  “Pursued?” asked the voice. “By whom?”

  I had a bad feeling that answering this truthfully would not be wise, but I could not lie to the city that was about to take me in. “Humans from the surface.”

  A pronounced pause. I waited, standing before the gates of Ssarsdale for a response.

  “The council of Ssarsdale will meet to decide on this matter. For now, we can grant you no access, but will permit you sanctuary outside the gates to wait for the arrival of your fellows.”

  I gave them my thanks, laid my haversack down on the ground, and curled up for a brief rest. I was asleep as soon as my head touched the stone.