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BRIARETH
As soon as I take a step back from the window, Faladel grabs my arm. “Briareth,” He hisses, “These people know a way around the city that avoids dragons! Shouldn’t we–”
Before he can protest that we should stay and try to talk to them, and before I can roll my eyes in reply and come up with a proper argument, we are surrounded by a dirty group of street urchins of all three races, staring at us with suspicion and hostility.
“What are you?” The shortest of the Zytherlings, Lethbal, asks, glaring at us. “And what exactly were you doing, spying on us like that? Going to report us to the authorities?”
“Give them a break, Lethbal,” the Zytherling who had been studying the floor, Auxen says, smiling at us, deep set blue eyes glittering with interest in his angular face. “I think I know them. Take off your face coverings, you two.” I immediately move my hand towards my face, but Faladel hesitates. Auxen’s smile turns a little savage, “What’s the point in resisting? We could just as easily do it for you.” Faladel stiffens at the threat, but pulls his mask down obediently. At the sight of our faces hushed whispers and murmurs break out in the crowd.
“They’re the ones who killed…?”
“No way.”
“What are they doing here?”
“Do you think they’re in cahoots with…”
“There’s only so many tall-folk with no wings.” Auxen grins triumphantly at us. “They’re not going to turn us in. After all, they’d be arrested as soon as they appeared before the guards.”
“The question remains; what should we do with them?” Tina, the Kashan leader asks, and quite a few people nod in agreement.
Thinking fast, I raise my hands up defensively. “We don’t mean any harm, and we don’t want to get in your way. You could just let us go. You already know we won’t go running to any authorities about… well, whatever it is you’re trying to do here.”
Some of them actually look convinced, until one of the Tadhiel raises his hand and calls out. “Yeah, but they did kill both Chairholder Thraughl and Chairholder Finnagund. And I kinda liked Finnagund. He was running that program for the soup kitchen sundays.”
“His soup tasted terrible.” Tina calls out, and a few kids nod.
“What would you know about taste, bloodsucker!” Cries one of the other kids.
Small scuffles and shouting matches break out between the twenty or so street children surrounding us. But they all go dead silent and huddle close to the wall as soon as a dragon flies overhead.
“You could just take us with you.” Faladel suggests as soon as the dragon’s tail disappears into the smoke. “We want to stay out of sight as well after all. We won’t ask for any of the goods you find robbing these mansions blind.” I blink, who said anything about robbing people? “I promise we didn’t kill anyone, and if it helps, we can tell you our side of the story. Just take us to these underground passages.”
Auxen glances from us to Lethbal, Lethbal glances at Tina, who then glances at the Tadhiel who spoke up about the Chairholders. The three of them, excluding Auxen, huddle together, heads down, whispering too low for me to overhear.
Finally they spit on their hands and do some sort of complicated handshake that ends when everyone gets each other’s spit on their hands, and turn towards us and Auxen.
“Auxen will take you to the underpaths with us.” Lethbal announces, “But once you’re there, we’re going our separate ways. If you end up finding your own way out, you’ll be too late to bring any guards down on us.”
“But my payment–” Auxen begins to protest, a glimmer of greed sliding into his eyes.
“Will not change.” Lethbal overrides the older Zytherling. “They are going with our group, so we are still only paying the price for one group’s safe travel through the city.”
Auxen rolls his eyes and sighs. “As long as I get my cut I suppose. Now let's get out of these streets. We don’t want anyone to spot us. I’d hate to get in trouble for this when things die down.” With a wave he leads us and the children back into the small shop, and in a few minutes has opened up a pretty large hole in the floor, revealing an old wooden trapdoor.
“Back when this was a minin’ village,” He explains to Faladel’s curious questioning, “the tunnels ran all over the place. Some of them have collapsed o’ course, some got filled in, and some got turned into underground canals, but if you’re a smart cookie and have the time to put in decipherin’ the old half-ruined maps they keep at the citadels, you can roughly locate some of the old access points. And o’ course, the fanciest houses that want running water an’ whatnot have to be built above these old tunnels. It’s simple logic that someone like me would stumble across it one day and seize the opportunity.”
While he’s explaining himself, I take the chance to open the recently revealed hatch. There is an old, half-rotted rope ladder above a fifteen foot drop. Not trusting it to hold my weight, I glance at the wall, and see a far older similar ladder carved into it. It’s a lot more rough, but a much safer way to climb down. Almost immediately, dirty Zytherling, Tadhiel and Kashan kids start to join me, crowding the space to near bursting. I tap my heels impatient, my headache already worsening despite being out of the smoke and ash filled air. The tunnel runs pretty parallel to the street above, and as soon as Faladel makes his way down the ladder, I start pulling him uphill, my throbbing headache confirming we’re going in the right direction. Faladel is loath to leave his new friends, but when I insist that we’re getting closer, he quickly relents.
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The rough stone passage is unevenly carved out of the bedrock beneath the city. The floor is riddled with uneven dips and tiny hills, perfect for tripping on. Some of the support beams have fallen, others, despite being rotten through, are still barely standing. Faladel has a torch that one of the kids must have given him, but it’s hardly enough to light up the area around us. Even with it’s ‘help’ I still nearly stumble off the edge of a collapsed portion of the tunnel. Faladel holds his arm out as far above it as he dares, but we can’t see the bottom. The warm air is stifling. The darkness and constant rumbling as we navigate is unsettling. Everything feels slightly wrong. And after the third time we’ve had to turn around due to collapsed passageways, Faladel halts me.
“Briareth, I’m not sure going around below ground is that much safer than above.”
“Faladel, did you forget there are dragons and mobs up there?” I ask him confused, “Of course it’s safer down here! Sure there’s your average pitfall, but if we’re careful, we can avoid those. And I’m almost certain the magic-disruptor is below ground! Ever since we came down here, my headaches have been slowly getting stronger!”
Faladel frowns, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I’m no tracker, Briareth,” He admits, “But I think you’ve missed something. Take another look at this pile.” He taps the collapsed rock in front of us, holding the torch close enough that I can feel its warmth.
Slowly, I take a second look, studying the stone. As I lean in close Faladel adds in a whisper. “I think I’ve heard someone following us as well. I don’t know when it started, I’m not even completely sure it’s there, but if it is, we could have trouble.”
“I’m sure it’s just an ech–” I stop mid reassurance. Faladel was right. I had missed something. This rock fell quite recently. No dust is on the stones, the edges are jagged, and the rumbling suddenly is a lot more ominous. Possible dragon wings above, perhaps a few collapsing buildings, but more likely, the rumble of rock giving way as tons of weight from broken buildings falls on it. Very suddenly, I can almost feel the weight of all the rocks above my head. I can vividly imagine the pain of being crushed under all of them. The smell of blood mixed with dirt, and the taste of stone dust as I gasp a last breath. Still, as terrible as that is. The likelihood of that, vs being burned or trampled to death or caught out on the streets and identified as fugitives.
“I’m sure the magic-disrupter is below ground.” I claim, turning to Faladel, “But I’ll follow your lead, Faladel.”
Faladel fidgets clearly uncomfortable, glancing at the stones in front of us, and then at the passage behind, weighing the options. It takes a few minutes for him to make up his mind. “We continue on then.” He eventually says, nodding to himself.
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SILV
No matter what Briareth claims about dragons being intelligent beings, these ones have clearly lost their marbles. They aren’t working together at all, and good thing too or they’d have killed us long ago. I have a growing hunch that the largest one, the bright copper and bronze who lead the group on its merry chase, is Smay. Briareth and Faladel’s former friend, and the one who had been slowly breaking out of his cage when we saw him last.
He fights like a dying man, desperate thrusts and snaps, no logic, no reasoning. If he had any semblance of sentience, he would have realized that a few coordinated and well timed wing-flaps could send us bowling over to the other side of the square. Instead they use their bodies as clubs. Trying to smash us, tear us to pieces with their claws and teeth. They don’t even use their flames!
I spin the wheel as far right as it can go, jerking us left as the lurid green dragon swoops down in a strafing attack, going for Fin and the sails with it’s claws. I feel the wind whipping at my short hair and tearing at my smile, turning it into a wild grimace. Nothing can ever beat flying. Nothing in the world, no magic, no set of wings, will ever substitute for the strength and recklessness of the ship under my feet. I feel the power in my hands, the adrenaline coursing through my skin as I turn us up- up- up into the sky, looping around Smay’s head and sending the black dragon on our tail pummeling headfirst into his jaw. Then we plummet, my only connection to the ship the rope at my waist, my death grip on the wheel, and her song of triumph burning in my ears. I scream my success. “Elen! GO!”
My Tadhiel companion jumps from the ship right before Fin and I snatch her from the jaws of the inglorious death of crashing prow first into the ground. She lands nimbly on her feet, immediately taking right back off to avoid being crushed by the flailing black dragon as he collapses on the ground behind us. She dashes, quick as she can towards the center of the square we’re fighting in. Just like we planned. Fin, the ship, and I are a distraction. If Elen can get her hands on the object thrown by that thief, we’ll have done our jobs here and can skedaddle. But before she’s halfway there, the enraged dragons, Copper, Green, and Black, have abandoned pursuing us completely in favor of going for us.
I grit my teeth, diving back into the heart of the frey, desperately trying to distract them. Fin even lets some wind out the sails, making us an easy target as he grabs the revolver from his belt and shoots the green one once in the eye, once in the side, and once in the wing. I don’t know if they had any effect though. The dragon just screams angrily and dives towards Elen.
“Abandon course, Elen.” I plea under my breath, sizing up distance and speed. She’s not going to make it. She can’t possibly make it. “Just this once.” I breathe, and then shout the message, knowing she almost certainly won’t hear me above the screaming of the dragons and the thunder of their wings. Twisting the wheel again until my small boat groans in protest and Fin hollers about just what I think I’m doing.
But I’ve looked at the angles. I know what I’m doing. “Give me all you’ve got Fin!” I scream, “We’re going to pick her up!” I look at the emergency button next to the wheel. I’d never thought I’d actually press it. It drops over half of our floatstones, the stuff that makes the ship fly. But Elen’s life is worth more than any stones will ever be.
I feel a shiver of excitement, the same shiver I always feel when doing something I’ve never tried before. Half adrenaline, half pure desperation that it works. Then I press the button, and feel the ship drop out from under me as we snap through Smay’s back legs, diving faster than freefall towards the ground. Towards Elen.
Fin’s shouting something, but the wind whips his voice behind us, I can’t hear it. I can’t hear anything. I can barely see from the tears whipping out of my eyes. The pressure hurts. I’ve never gone this fast before. Elen looks up, dragons coming at her from all sides. Fear is written all over her face. But when she sees us, instead of subsiding, it multiplies. She points up. At us, no behind us. I can’t read her lips, but she’s shouting something. I feel a shudder run through my ship, and I instinctively jerk her upwards. A loud clap resounds from behind us. A half twist back, and I see two claws right where our hull would have been, but then there is no time to feel relief. No time to gasp in fear and then relax. I jerk the ship out of her dive, and send her skidding through the legs of the black dragon, who’d gotten unsteadily to his feet to chase Elen towards the center of the square. His left wing looks damaged. But there’s no time to analyze. Elen crumples as she lands onto the deck, feet swept out from under her due to the sheer difference in speed. I take us up, to the far side of the square. The dragons gather around the center. The Copper one, the one I suspect is Smay, sends a blast of dragonfire to challenge the night sky. He doesn’t aim at any of the buildings, or at us, he just sends it straight up. Almost like a signal. I shiver as we cruise to a stop. My ship is noticeably slower to respond to the wheels commands now, her height gain is sluggish, and she feels heavier under my hands. I grimace. We’ve failed, but we’ll just try again with a new plan. The only thing that bugs me is Smay’s strange actions. Why would a wild beast not use all the weapons at its disposal? Why would any intelligent one forgo tactics? And one question nags me above all others, why did he only breathe fire once, into the sky?