3

Abris Ahmni

Cricket sat cross-legged in the mud near the stables waiting for the others, while Patches nested on his shoulder, happily nibbling away at a small piece of carrot. When she finished she hopped onto Cricket's lap and the insect began to pet her absently.

The mouseling yawned and started to close her eyes, then jerked them open.

"I was falling..."

"No," Cricket whispered. "You're safe, little buddy."

The mouseling smiled and closed her eyes again, but her tail wagged anxiously. Eventually she opened her eyes with a sigh. "How do you get rid of things?"

"What?"

"Like... things."

"Can you be more specific?"

"If you don't have room for things. How do you get rid of them? Things... don't go away."

"Well it depends. Some things do go away. Like food and people."

"People don't go away," the mouseling protested.

"I think they do." Cricket's smile slowly turned into a frown. "Actually, I think that's a great example of something that goes away."

"Food doesn't go away. It just changes."

"Okay... fair point. You're saying that nothing ever goes away?"

"No!" the mouseling huffed. "I mean when there isn't room for something, what are you supposed to do with it?"

"Oh... well. We had almost twenty casualties when the Warrens was attacked. And we couldn't just leave all those bodies lying around..."

Patches ears perked up.

"So we—"

"We burned them," Patches finished.

"Uh... yeah."

The mouseling smiled then climbed up onto the insect's shoulder again and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, and hopped to the ground, sprinting back toward the commons.

Cricket stared after her until she disappeared into one of her little holes. "Um... you're welcome?"

The insect scratched his feelers. He grew bored without a friend to pet and wandered past the stables—as far as unaccompanied slaves were allowed.

He came upon two ubo wrangling a raptor into a stall. The diminutive, single-horned cyclopes didn't even come to his shoulders, but each one weighed twice as much as the insect. Their bulk made them excellent beast handlers.

Nearby sat two cages on wheels attached to the back of a wagon. The rear cage held a filthy vampire in rags. Blood stained his face and overgrown claws, and the crazed creature eyed the insect hungrily.

Cricket addressed a nearby insectoid attendant. "What's this?"

The smaller insect clicked excitedly. "We found a feral one."

"Feral? Like wild?"

"It's like an animal!" The insect tapped one of the bars tauntingly and the vampire rushed for him. The attendant yanked his arm back with a squeal and stepped away from the cage. "We found him in isolation. He went too long without blood, and it messed with his mind."

"Can you give him some blood?" Cricket asked innocently.

The insectoid attendant shook his head. "Well, yeah, but it wouldn't help. It would just make him stronger. We have to put it down."

The next cage sat empty, yet three iron chains secured the enclosure onto the cart. Cricket walked closer to inspect. Suddenly he tensed and took a step back just as a gnarled claw materialized and swiped at his face from behind the bars.

A wiry, implike creature lashed at him from inside and gnashed its black teeth, staring with fierce yellow, slitted eyes. A single batlike wing rose from its back, the other having been severed at the base. Or perhaps torn off, given the jagged scar on its back.

The creature climbed onto the bars in a desperate attempt to reach the insect, then opened wide its single wing and vanished again from sight.

"Ey!" One of the ubo yelled at Cricket, and he waved awkwardly at the cyclops as he backed away from the wagon.

The ubo continued to yell at him in its own language, which made it easy to ignore. Cricket started back downhill when he noticed Oydd and Jeshu coming up the path. The rockworm, Orth, lay on the druid's shoulders, its fat tail drooping down his back, its six stubby legs clinging on to his barklike skin.

Skunk trudged along next to the rudra, its knuckles scraping the ground—its slick grey skin still dripping from its soak in the vat. For the first time, Cricket realized how much it had grown. Though bowed and warped, Oydd's creation now stood nearly as tall as the five-foot rudra. At least a foot taller than Scorpion, who was the biggest ratling the insect knew.

"What's wrong?" Oydd asked.

"Hmm... nothing." Cricket stared uneasily at his old friend.

"Lord Licephus is just behind us. He's having a word with Dairdin. Are you ready?"

"Who, me or Jesh?"

"I'm looking at you."

"Oh... uh, yeah. I'm ready." Cricket rubbed his lower hands together. "But I haven't been briefed."

"You don't need to know much. This is not a combat mission. But you are along to protect me, so the burden doesn't fall on Lord Licephus. So stay within my sight."

"All right." Cricket awkwardly scratched his neck and avoided looking at Skunk.

"We will travel by foot to Al Tsiroth proper, since our Lord despises cave lizards. There we will descend to an ancient site below the city to take soil samples and look for other evidence of recent spellcasting."

"Mm-hmm, mm-hmm."

"Listen, Cricket. The most dangerous part of this mission... the part I'm most worried about is you talking while we're in the city. Do not draw unnecessary attention to us. Once we are past the gates, do not speak unless spoken to, and do not address Lord Licephus without his title. If a dhampir speaks to you and you do not know his title, use 'sir' or 'master'. Am I clear?"

"Geesh, yes. Did Jesh get this speech too?"

"No," the rudra answered coldly.

"I agree with Oydd, though," the dryad added. "Lord Licephus is vouching for us, but we must appear especially mild and deferential."

"Like always," Cricket spat.

"I know you're joking," Oydd said, "but we are traveling to a sacred site."

"Got it. But you're not my boss. So each time you lecture me, I'm going to lecture you."

"Very mature. Here comes Lord Licephus. Keep your thoughts to yourself."

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"And you keep your hands to yourself," Cricket counseled. "Don't go groping anyone without permission."

Oydd scowled and almost responded, but bit his tongue in his beak.

The vampire wore dark grey platemail, with ridges and spikes in the dhampir style. He carried Naraka's adamantine cutlass strapped to his back, and held a sharp, spined helmet in his hand.

Licephus bowed slightly to the group then addressed Oydd. "The dead are not allowed in the city." He gestured toward Skunk. "Actually, you'll find it quite impossible to bring him within a certain range of Serinyes' grand altar. Her clerics maintain a field that suppresses necrotic magic."

"My Lord, this one is not dead, but obeys me none-the-less. I can return him to my lab if you please."

The vampire studied the aberration then nodded. "Very well. If he can keep up with us, I see no problem." He turned to the druid. "The rudra says you can grant a boon of vitality to speed our travel?"

"A grace, my lord. From the goddess Elkennah, if it is permitted."

Licephus laughed. "No, I think not. Give it to the others."

Jeshu knelt and whispered a prayer. A green glowing light appeared on his shield and spread beneath the feet of his companions. It slowly dimmed until it was gone.

The druid rose and Licephus took off without another word.

The ubo at the stable saluted as Licephus passed, and so did the raptor-mounted dhampiri. Cricket eyed the seemingly empty cage as they passed.

After about an hour of travel, the great city Al Tsiroth appeared on the horizon and the vampire broke the silence.

"We'll be there in about four hours. We will make a quick examination and then return tonight."

Cricket's stomach rumbled. "We should have left earlier..."

Oydd scowled at the insect. "I apologize for my comrade's loose tongue, my lord."

Cricket glared back. "And I apologize for my companion's fat face."

Licephus laughed without looking back. "You are both forgiven." He walked for a moment while Oydd gestured wildly behind his back, and Cricket stuck out his tongue at the rudra.

"We left late because we wish to pass through the streets while the dhampiri sleep," the vampire continued. "That way, we will make less of a... commotion."

"What kind of metal is your armor?" Cricket asked. The rudra tried to place a hand over Cricket's mouth and the insect slapped it away. Frustrated, the rudra tried again, and Cricket slapped it away again.

"Silver," Licephus answered.

"That doesn't... hurt you?"

"It would," Licephus began, "if it were pure. But this silver was corrupted over hundreds of years by exposure to dark magic. It makes it heavier but extremely durable. And... most importantly, it no longer burns my skin."

"Can you corrupt garlic too?" Cricket asked.

"Garlic?"

"Yeah... yes," Cricket corrected to sound more formal. "It's a root from the surface."

"I know what garlic is, but I don't understand the question."

"Could you put black magic in garlic, so it wouldn't hurt you? Or maybe eat a little every day to build up a resistance?"

"Ah, I think I understand. But I have no... aversion to garlic."

"What about wolfsbane?"

"That's for werewolves," Oydd snapped.

"Once upon a time," the vampire answered, "I did try to build up a tolerance to silver, but my efforts were fruitless. Silver dispels dark magic, so it only weakens me."

"Any dark magic?" Cricket asked with a perplexed look at Oydd. "Like zombies?"

"Yes. Like zombies."

"Oydd! you said silver wouldn't work on zombies!"

"I didn't want you to test it out," the rudra admitted in annoyance.

"Well now I'm going to try wolfsbane on zombies too."

"Wolfsbane only affects lycanthropes," Oydd replied.

"So you say, but you're a proven liar. I'm testing it on Gad, and then I'm testing it on Bird... supposing that won't kill him?"

"It will not..." Oydd hissed. "Werepanthers are not lycanthropes. It's a misnomer. And you're welcome to try it on Gad all you like."

"Stop your squabbling, Rudra," the vampire roared.

"I... ah—" Oydd sputtered, his mouth agape.

After a short silence, Jeshu said "I think he was joking."

Oydd watched the vampire's white locks sway on the back of his head as he walked. waiting expectantly for a confirmation. Finally he snapped his beak shut and stared off at the dwindling lights of Al Tsiroth.

"Do you mind the conversation, my lord?" Jeshu asked.

The vampire pondered for a moment. "It helps pass the time."

"If you don't mind my saying, you're not like the dhampiri."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Licephus replied. "They are cold and cruel and blind."

This response stunned Jeshu for a moment. "Then... why do you fight for them?"

"Hmm..." the vampire sneered. "Perhaps to save them from their ways, if that's not supremely arrogant. If there is still anything worth saving." After this, the vampire seemed so pensive that no one else dared speak, and they left him to his thoughts.

After a few minutes, Licephus froze on the road, and continued, "I once lived among the elves. But if I tried that now, they would hunt me. Even if I fought to protect them, they would seek to extinguish my life. The elves see me as an affront to nature. The dhampiri, on the other hand, honor me with rank and status because of my power. It is superficial... but less shortsighted in my eyes."

He started again down the trail. "On parts of the surface—far from here—they use the word dhampir to mean half vampire. As in, the spawn of a vampire and a living mortal. I don't suppose that's really possible. And yet, it paints the dhampiri as somehow less horrific than a vampire. More relatable. In the end, I have no love for those who hate me. It is that simple."

When the group arrived at the gates of Al Tsiroth, two dhampir soldiers approached on raptors to meet Licephus. But he simply lifted his chin and flicked at a branding on his neck. The guards, seeing the mark, let him and his companions pass without a word.

Cricket wanted to ask about the exchange, and got as far as opening his mouth. But the streets felt so deathly quiet that a chill went up his antennae. That, coupled with the rudra's withering glare made the insect reassess the situation. He slowly closed his mouth and chose not to press his luck.

The group only passed one lone dhampir on the far side of a wide street before coming to a second gate guarded by an unmounted dhampir noble. This time, the dhampir clearly expected Licephus. He saluted, by bringing the hilt of his dagger to his chest. The vestiges of a wing protruded from the noble's forearm—an elongated pinky that stretched past his elbow, connected with a white leathery membrane. The wing seemed not to impede his grip, and the dhampir's eyes flashed dangerously as he surveyed the vampire's companions.

Cricket grinned and bowed slightly as he passed, attempting to look inconspicuous, then grimaced at himself as he walked away from the guard.

Licephus entered a small, columned building with a drawn portcullis, and descended a long, winding staircase that led deep below the city. After several minutes of walking, the walls grew rough—even jagged at points—and the stairs grew damp and slick.

Just as it started to get too dark for even Cricket, the rudra spoke, "Lumen!" and a faint light appeared from the tip of his staff.

When Licephus reached the bottom, he found the chamber covered in a thick layer of watery grey mud.

"Undisturbed," He observed before stepping into the silt.

"Which means no one has been here?" Oydd ventured.

"No..." Licephus answered. "Let's not assume that yet." The vampire wandered into the high-ceilinged chamber and spun around, studying the recesses of the room. He knelt and pressed his bare palm into the grey silt. "Do you feel that?"

Oydd crinkled his brow and sniffed. "I can smell it."

"What is that?" Cricket asked.

"Charred stone," Oydd answered. "Like when you strike a flint to start a fire."

"Yeah... that's it." Cricket nodded.

"What does that mean?" The druid walked to the center of the room. "Oh... I feel it."

Licephus smiled. "And what do you feel, dryad?"

Jeshu closed his eyes and thought. "Death... and anger."

Licephus stood. "The charred scent is from a summoning circle. Surprising it's so strong, even beneath all this sediment. But there is a terrible energy here."

"What does that mean?" Cricket whispered.

The vampire held a finger to his lip. "I don't know." He stared up at the ceiling. "What... is this?"

A ball of mud wiggled on the rock then dropped about a foot from the ceiling, where it hovered in mid air. The filth began to drip away, revealing a floating black sphere.

The sphere wobbled as a large clump of mud dropped to the floor, then a small portal opened behind it, and the sphere drifted through. Instantly the portal closed.

Three similar creatures began to stir and drop from the ceiling, only to hover in the air. Licephus slashed at one from several yards away, cutting the orb in half. Deflated, the two halves plummeted to the ground, splashing writhing white guts on the cavern floor. Three portals appeared and the remaining two spheres retreated.

The vampire held up a hand quickly and focused on the final portal, straining to keep it open. "I can't hold it. Rudra, can you see what's on the other side?"

"I can hold it," Jeshu responded. He lifted his hand as well and the portal began to grow. "You can rest, lord."

Licephus dropped his hand and the pained expression on his face relaxed.

Jeshu began to hum. A deep, vibrating hum, and the portal responded, clearing and solidifying. Jeshu motioned with his second hand and the portal slowly lowered to ground level.

The astonished vampire stepped to the brink of the dimensional gate and peered through as chilling winds whipped against his face.

"I know this place, but it is deep in Agoth," Licephus spoke gravely. "Stay close to me."