Elswith began to stir the moment she left. Kenton wondered if he had peeked or not.
“Are we even now?” Said Elswith. It was not cold, but it still made Kenton nervous. Lords spoke in that tone when they were plotting. It made Kenton feel exposed, like his pants may have fallen down and the other party was politely ignoring the humiliation while implying that that ignorance could go away just as easily.
He needed to be honest. Elswith was a brat, but he was a good kid. Kenton had hung around to see Elswith grow up. Growing up just felt scary. “Well, I…may need a bit of help.” Said Kenton after a moment’s pause.
“Why?” That…neutral tone again.
“That…random griffin left me a little stranded.”
At last, Elswith moved, springing to his feet like a young deer. Then again the kid was somewhere around twenty years old now. Still a baby practically.
He glanced around, but clearly could not see through the wall of the Stable like Kenton could.
He looked like a Lord returning from Battle. Bruises formed where the skin showed, and his hair was completely disheveled. Hunger and fatigue glowed from Elswith’s blue-gray eyes.
“You traded time with me for the saddle?” The Lord said, in that same neutral tone.
“I…struck a bargain!” Said Kenton gravely.
They both started to laugh at the same time.
And Kenton was relieved that Elswith could still laugh. In fact, the sight of the youth laughing made Kenton laugh harder, imagining how silly he looked with the saddle on his head. They were quite the pair!
Kenton and Elswith! Dungeon slayers! Elswith looked like he had been dragged through a school room on brown gravy day and Kenton hurt his ankle from landing wrong.
There was the sound of seams ripping, which made Kenton go pale.
Then he felt comfort because he saw Elswith’s face at that moment.
Elswith was afraid something bad would happen to him.
Elswith cared.
He knew, knew that the Lordling cared. But to see it.
Without hesitation, the pretend Servant began to come down to the next ledge.
“Wait wait wait,” Kenton said, when he saw the Red thing wearing Elswith’s face start reaching for the handle. “Get my key! It should be in the door.”
He was afraid Elswith would bluster and come down anyway.
But the kid listened to his advice, even though his face was puzzled.
Smart kid.
Kenton felt his coat pull tight under his arms, but still understood that making sure the Dungeon was locked up was more important.
Besides, who would give Cinnamon Girl 10 chickens if he died? That was some small reassurance.
Kenton craned his neck and watch Elswith approach the door, completely blind to the grin of the Elswith in the Dungeon.
The other-Elswith raised his hand to the knob on the other side.
Elswith, the real Elswith, reached the door and carefully pulled out the key, not touching it with bare skin. Smart boy.
“Don’t lose it!” called Kenton.
Then abruptly the other-Elswith turned his needle-sharp gaze to Kenton. Kenton felt like his fear jumped in his throat and he couldn’t even make a sound.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Both Elswith’s answered, one in parody and one in sincerity.
“Do you have it?” Asked Kenton, as more sounds of ripping emerged from his coat.
“I have it,” Elswith confirmed and moved behind Kenton.
This was his Elswith, right? Not another Fear…He had freed the real one, right?
He tensed when he felt hands behind him, under his arms. But instead of pushing him off, the hands clasped and pulled him to safety.
Kenton scooted back until he felt his back hit the safety of the wall. (It was a real wall now)
Then finally Kenton grabbed the saddle from his head.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“So CG stole the saddle after all,” Said Elswith. It was Elswith. That meant the red one was the Fear. The correct Elswith had come through. Relief sprang in his chest.
Kenton felt like laughing. He was not built for tension like this. “You can say the name?” Asked Kenton. His skilled hands began searching the saddle for tears and spots where the polish was thin.
“It is just short for Certain Griffin. That it happens to be the same letters as a Certain Griffin’s real name is merely a coincidence.”
Kenton laughed again. Lords make the rules and Lordlings find ways to get around them.
“So. You know what that place was,” Elswith said, pulling out the key. It dangled between them, gold catching the gentle light of the Stable.
“The Dungeon,” Kenton said, still not looking up. He did not want to see the Red Elswith on the other side of the wall.
“Are we safe?”
Smart kid. Kenton struggled to remember his mentor’s words. “After you leave the Dungeon, you can’t get back in for a day and a night, so says the old wisdom. Unless you find the silver door. But who would want to explore the Dungeon on purpose?”
“I’ve…never heard about it.”
Kenton moved both of his hands to his head, still laughing grimly. Of course, Lordlings wouldn’t know about it. Lords didn’t know about it. The Mappers had been nearly wiped out, only a few remained trained in how to navigate the Stable. “Mappers used to walk the ways of the Dungeon, so the legends go. Our tradition was ancient. At least, that’s what the whispered words of my mentor told me. The night she went crazy.”
She had been an old mapper. Older than the others. There were always a few mappers, but some lasted longer than others. Kenton had lasted a very long time, but his mentor had lasted for at least 3 times that amount.
“The last time I was up here, on my last night of apprenticeship. She took me to the door and told me crazy stories. I lost my arm. Barely got it back. Because the door didn’t open then. Just a crack. She forced me to put my arm through. It disconnected. She said that’s how we know the Dungeon is dead because all the ways in are gone.”
“You got your arm back,” Said Elswith, using that neutral tone. Was it edged with humor? He supposed it was rather obvious that Kenton had eventually gotten his lost arm back.
“Eventually, the Stable was moody and kept playing keep away.”
Kenton waved the hand that had not been lost. For a period of time, this was his only hand. He was getting distracted. He needed to get Elswith up and back into the Game.
No.
He needed the Lord to understand what the danger was, and that perhaps the Game was the least of the problems. “Least of my worries. The terrifying thing was that she told me that if the King ever discovered it, losing an arm was the least of the worries.” Had the King discovered that the Dungeon had even opened a crack meant that it wasn’t completely gone.
And when something wasn’t completely gone…
It could come back.
“Oh, we’re in so much trouble, Lordship,” Kenton said, looking up at Elswith. From the corner of his eye, he could still see the Red Figure of Other Elswith as the wall began to cloud over and become non-transparent again.
“So much trouble. It just washed over me, as I was hanging there. You are in a Game for your freedom now. What just happened…if the Fairy King ever finds out about it…” Kenton finally met Daniel’s eyes. “You will be in a fight for your very existence.”
Elswith stood there, face blank. "Secrecy is dangerous. I have found the best secret is one you do not know of either." Elswith rubbed his arm gingerly as if it was injured.
"Do you know the story of the Lost Lordling?"
"He disappeared inside the Stable by a tragic accident."
"So you don't really know the story of the Lost Lordling. She did not. Ten years ago, while I was still a mapper, she was interested in the old legends."
"What court was she from?"
"I never knew, she came under an alise and the midlings did their best to cover it up. I found out later that her family was hunting her down. She knew something she was not supposed to know and took her chances in the shifting mess of the Grant Stable. And failed, I thought. She knew about the Dungeon but withheld that she knew. I think...she did something, something to wake it up. When I realized what she was doing, I tried to speak reason to her. Instead, she stole my key and ran away into the Stable. I thought it failed because she disappeared and nothing happened again. But now...I think she did it."
Elswith sighed, pacing so near the edge it made Kenton nervous. Did Elswith know no fear?
"So you must never come back here," Kenton said, trying to find how to save both their lives. "You must have been marked for the Dungeon. And Once Marked, the Dungeon will pull you into itself again."
"This marking that you speak of, is it deliberate, or can it happen by accident?"
"The Dungeon has been gone for untold generations, since the beginning of the current Fairy King's reign. All I have is legend and lore so badly garbled even I think half of it is nonsense. It sounds like there is an intentional mark placed, but it could be completely wrong. The legends say the Dungeon would only allow the marked into its depths unless you interfere..." as he had, but he was sure that wouldn't count. "The Dungeon once was highly sought after. Somehow you got marked, and now the Dungeon clearly has a purpose for you. Even if it is a good purpose (which I doubt), should the Fairy King realize that the Dungeon is not destroyed..."
"This is part of the Game," said Elswith abruptly. The youth started to laugh in a manner that had Kenton worried about his mental state. "Someone is poking at the King and using me to do it." Elswith continued. "That's why. They weren't doing me any favors. They knew. They suspected, at least."
"Kido, maybe we should get you away from the ledge." Elswith must be under extreme pressure...
"You'll laugh in a minute too. Because I cannot avoid the Stable. I literally am BOUND. Bound around my wrist, shackled to the duty to complete it. I must perform my duties in the Stable, or else I lose the Game."
Kenton did not like those twisty logic games of the High Fae Lords.
"Someone wants to wake up the Dungeon, or suspects that it is not dead, or something." Elswith held out his hand and raised one finger. "I didn't do anything to get the attention of the Stable." he raised a second finger next to the first. "I doubt you marked me." then he raised the third finger "And CG would not have done it, not unless she went with me. All three individuals involved had seemingly nothing to gain from me entering the Dungeon." the young Lord raised his last finger on his hand, the little pinky finger away from the other three. With his thump, he lightly tapped the tip of each four extended fingers. "Someone must have marked me to gain something from the exchange."
Kenton gulped.
"Kenton, who assigned a former mapper to be a leather worker for the Red Circle? Do you believe it was a coincidence?"
Kenton would have sat down if he was not already sitting down. "That was ten years ago."
"That's nothing for beings who live thousands of years. Someone has been engineering this trouble for a long time. You're right, Kenton. You're right. We are in so much trouble."