Chapter 30: A Way Ahead in the Dark

The rain fell harder and harder, drops bouncing high off the neatly-paved streets of the merchant’s quarter, and small streams running towards the gutters and gurgling down bronze drains.

As Alcar and Brutus proceeded through the merchant’s quarter, the young sorcerer pulled the hood of his robes high, pressing them close around his face. There was no getting away from it, though – he was gradually getting soaked through.

Alcar knew that there was only one way through to the gate quarter – a portal through the interquartile city wall which was several blocks south of the one that led back to the poor quarter. To get there, he just needed to follow along the line of the wall.

As he moved in that direction, Alcar began to recognise some the surroundings – he wasn’t far from where he had gone on the recent chaotic mission to rescue Maluhk. That is, he wasn’t far from the streets of all kinds, where people of many of Katresburg’s less common species tended to reside.

At almost the same time as he had made that realizaton, he recognised two dwarves, both with blond hair, who were walking ahead of him. “Could they be...” he murmured to himself. But he didn’t need to answer his own question. He was certain in his own mind that the pair were Trumore and his kinsman – the fake apprentices, and Maluhk’s kidnappers.

The pair were walking rapidly, both raising cloaks to partially cover their faces from the rain, but still, they were unmistakeable.

Rather than continuing southwards, Alcar took the momentary decision to follow the pair. At first he was tempted to move forward and bash their heads hard together – they deserved it, he was sure! But then, at a worried growl from Brutus, he slowed his pace and held back, following on at a distance.

At least they won’t recognise me in these robes, Alcar reasoned to himself as he proceeded. He knew that the dwarves hadn’t seen him since before his visit to Xian’s store where he had bought the outfit, and the pair surely didn’t know about Brutus, either. And while he knew that he was splashing noisily along the pavement, so was everyone else in the vicinity. With his hood raised, it would be hard for the dwarves to see his face even if they glanced around.

He followed the pair around a corner, half-expecting them to be making their way back to the safe house where he had found Maluhk. While they proceeded in that direction for a time, however, they soon stopped, speaking quietly to one another with their cloaks raised even higher against the conditions. Then, without looking around, both dwarves hurried towards a lane off to the side of the street they were on. It was in a different direction to the safe house. Were they just stopping for shelter, or did they have another destination in mind?

Alcar had paused too, and Brutus took the opportunity to shake. The sorcerer now wiped more rain out of his face and walked on, hurrying down the same lane where the dwarves had disappeared. If there had been a tavern to stop at, that would have explained the fact that they had come this way. But no. There were just several front doors of what looked like modest family dwellings, all closed. If the dwarves had gone into any of those buildings, it now wasn’t clear which. What’s more, the lane was a dead end, and there was nobody at all to be seen.

As he stopped again to look around, however, Alcar noticed one further thing. Two of the houses ahead of him had a tiny gap between them, narrower than a doorway. And a large puddle in front of this was moving, wide ripples still swirling around as if someone had recently walked through it.

“Come on, boy,” he murmured, and then moved cautiously in that direction, gripping his staff tight in one hand, the other on his dagger’s hilt. There was still nobody to be seen in the lane, and he couldn’t make out any passers-by back on the street, either. Why would there be, Alcar thought to himself? The weather was atrocious. The dwarves surely had found somewhere to shelter from the rain.

He stopped at the gap between the houses, and then began to peer forward, for the gap was so dark, it was almost impossible to see anything. Alcar found himself wishing he was holding a lantern, or one of the magical sorcerous lights that Maluhk had conjured. Could he produce such a light himself? He had only been told two... phrases. He was trying his best not to think of them as spells.

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Two ways to focus his mana.

“Sit, Brutus.” The dog circled around the large puddle, then sat near the wall of one of the houses, shaking his head, ears flapping around.

Alcar stared down, putting his thumb and forefinger close together. “We’ll be out of the rain soon, I’m pretty sure,” he murmured, and then, “rac et weimannia.” It would surely be best, he thought to himself, to use the phrase that Maluhk had told him would give more ‘punch’ to an attack. Just in case.

After all, who knew what Trumore might try?

Sure enough, the blue-purple glowing light now appeared in between his digits. Rather than throwing it as he had done before, Alcar coddled it in his hand, moving it from one palm to another before stepping forward. It felt strange – spiky, energetic. He wasn’t sure that he could hold it for long... No doubt the light Maluhk had created had been from a different enchantment, and in his inexperience, he had used the wrong one.

But needs must.

Despite his discomfort, the tiny ball of light had successfully lit up the way ahead, revealing a tunnel set deeply into the space between the houses, alcove, and then immediately turning to the left, such that most passers-by would surely mistake it for a simple alcove. Alcar proceeded, Brutus padding along at his heels, then engaging in one last shake as they finally escaped the rain.

The pathway must go right behind the houses, Alcar now realized, and it was taking him away from the street that he had come from – and away from the interquartile city wall. But where did it go next? Alcar recalled being told by Master Maluhk about the dwarves having a network of tunnels beneath the city. Was it possible that this mysterious entranceway connected to the same safe house that he had been to before? Or even to buildings in other quarters of the city – or beyond?

Alcar walked on, grimacing at the pain that was growing in his hand. He soon hit upon the strategy of holding up the light in one hand at a time, awkwardly swapping hands with his staff as he did so, to bring some relief from the pain. This switch allowed him to hold the light in one hand while the other recovered somewhat.

Descending further, holding the light in a loosely clenched fist above his head, he could illuminate the path without dazzling himself. The path descended on, with still no sign of the dwarves or of anyone else ahead. Whichever direction the route had been going didn’t really matter now – they must already be below the level of the streets of Katresburg. Unfortunately, Alcar had already lost his bearings. Even if he did come to a turning that would allow him to make his way under the wall and towards the gate quarter of the city, the correct direction would be a matter of guesswork.

Unless...

He glanced around at Brutus. “Brutus,” he whispered, “do you know which way the city gate is?”

“Wuff.”

“Uh... okay. And if we turn, do you think you could lead us in that direction?”

“Wuff.”

“Hmm... All right then,” Alcar responded. He was fairly sure that the dog would have a better sense of direction than he did. The problem was the lack of a way that they could communicate between themselves.

Looking ahead again, Alcar saw that the path was at last widening out. Now, he came to a cavern, long and narrow and roughly hewn in the stone, with further tunnels leading off to the side – at least ten in all. Most of them went deeper, but one appeared to be going back up, and it was to this one that Alcar now walked, pausing on the threshold.

There were voices from up ahead. Rough, harsh voices of at least two people talking.

And that meant civilization – and perhaps a safe way back out. If so, it may just lead back to the merchant’s quarter, but on the other hand, he might find himself somewhere else entirely.

“Come on Brutus – and stay quiet.”

The light in his hand had now dwindled almost to nothing, and after a few moments, Alcar tossed it onto the ground behind him. As he did so, he realized that there was a light from up ahead, too. Of course. Whoever was speaking would surely have a torch or a lantern.

All the same, he proceeded slowly. The dwarves had proven themselves to be uncertain allies at best, while other creatures that lived in caves below the streets of the city could be worse still.

Now, Alcar was approaching the voices. He put one hand on the scruff of Brutus’s neck, and whispered, “Shh!” as the dog began to growl. At this, Brutus sat at his feet. Then, with a peek around the next corner, Alcar looked into a unexpectedly homely room.

Ahead, a dwarf and an orc sat in chairs on either side of a fireplace. It could have been the taproom of a small inn; the walls were of brick, and the fireplace of carved and polished wood. Off to the left, in the side of the room that Alcar was able to see, were several chests, as well as makeshift bed with a straw mattress, and a small square table.

The dwarf that he could now see was not either of the ones he had followed, however, being dark of hair with a white-streaked beard. The orc was also unfamiliar – a hideous creature with a bulbous green-brown head, splayed tusks, and lank reddish hair. It was large and strong-looking, clearly more chaotic and dangerous than the half-orcs which were a relatively common sight around Katresburg and beyond.

“Our plan is coming to fruition at last,” growled the orc, with a deep chortle.

And the dwarf leaned forward and clinked his mug of ale. “Indeed, my cunning friend. Indeed.”