Day Three Continued

Thepa crept down the corridor, spear in hand, her senses sharp. Though the hall was smaller than Thepa was comfortable with, she considered it a blessing. The hall's narrowness worked to her advantage; anyone trying to ambush her would be forced to come one by one. If they were anything like the two thugs that tried to take her in the cell, keeping them at a distance seemed like the best course of action. The Galaks might towering over her, but here they would find themselves in close quarters with her spear and far fewer options.

Regardless of what happened, she felt a lot better being out of the cell. The smell was much more pleasant. Wet earth and a damp clay that clung to the limestone walls. The freedom of movement also gave her a sense of control. After hearing what the Galak had done to Zuna over the course of months, she wanted nothing more than to punish every one of them for crimes against Sainta. But first, she had to get Zuna out and regroup with the others. The thought of letting the Galak crimes go unpunished made her sick to her stomach, but as soon as she started mentally making notes on how to extract revenge, a picture of a blue-eyed youngling softening her resolve. The image anchored her, helping her keep her fury in check as she moved steadily down the corridor.

wo doors loomed, one on either side of the corridor. Both were coated with a greenish moss that clung to the rotting wood, like the vines that clung to Beachwick trees back home, a marker for the lost. But here, it offered no guidance. Thepa glanced back at Zuna, hoping for direction, only to find her friend visibly trembling, her eyes locked on the left door.

"Zuna?" Thepa whispered, sensing the depth of her friend's dread.

"Right," Zuna choked out in a shaky whisper. "Take the right door. Please, Thepa, please."

More tears spilled from Zuna's eyes, and Thepa's grip tightened on her spear. With a nod, she moved toward the right door. It creaked as she pushed it open, revealing a cavernous chamber that echoed with the sound of rushing water.

The chamber was vast, circular, and awe-inspiring, with limestone layers diving deep underground. A natural cut made its way down the limestone parallel to its horizontal layers and Thepa briefly wondered how something so natural could have happened this way. She recalled seeing something similar in the Lightmount mines during one her visits, but the foreman of the mining crew told her that was left over from the long dead volcano that once inhabited the region eons ago. From the door, Thepa could see a hole plunging into the bottomless pit, and an old, but sturdy looking spiral bridge that made its way up the side. But before she could fully take it in, a voice boomed from above.

"Grog, got that malignant yet?" The words reverberated, mocking her hope for a silent escape.

Thepa cringed. She had hoped they would make it farther before coming upon someone else, and the distance was too great for her to go unnoticed. She looked around, taking stock of her assets, but she knew they wouldn't have much time. Once more the male figure called down to her and as he did, his voice edged with impatience.

"Grog?"

Thepa glanced at Zuna, hatching a desperate plan. She lowered her voice, careful for her low pitch alto not to give its own echo off the limestone. "Zuna, I need you to scream. Loud. Distract him."

"Scream?" Zuna whispered, eyes widening.

"I need you to scream to cover up my voice. I can't do both, but if I just pretend to be Grog, he'll see right through it. I might be able to trick him behind your own scream."

"Something wrong Grog?" said the voice with a hint of worry.

Thepa tried to plead but Zuna stood frozen in fear. Knowing she was almost seconds of way from being found out, she set the spear against the wall, grabbed, Zuna's hand, and hated herself with every fiber of her being for doing what she was about to do.

Thepa opened the door to her left.

Terror poured from Zuna as she screamed, a raw sound that echoed off the cave walls. She struggled in Thepa's grip, but Thepa held tight, preventing her from bolting back toward the cell. As much as she hated herself right now, she needed her plan to play out to get them both up the stairs.

"Give us a hand with this wench." Thepa bellowed in the lowest voice she could muster as Zuna fought with her and continued to scream. At full strength, Thepa might have struggled to contain Zuna, as she remembered Zuna stopping her that day from killing the Goldale merchant, but this was a broken Zuna; one that she was afraid she just pushed over the edge. "She's fighting me."

Another grunt came from above, and the Galak's steps quickened.

Zuna continued to scream. Now that Thepa had accomplished the first part of her plan, she tried to help settle Zuna by shutting the door. As she did, she noted a simple cave-like room where the only thing in it was a table.

At first, confusion overcame Thepa as the door shut. She intently stared at its moss-wooden frame as she paused and thought what could have possibly caused Zuna to be so afraid of something so benign, but time was short. She could hear the soft footsteps of the Galak making its way down the wooden stairs, echoing off the cave walls. Then, as Zuna slide against the wall utterly afraid and defeated by a situation of Thepa's own making, she knew. There was nothing scary about a moss-covered door, a cave-like room, or an insignificant table. It was what the room represented: a nightmare of horror, punctuated by the endless amounts of torture.

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RRage, hot and primal, surged through Thepa's veins, igniting a fierce growl in her chest. For the first time since her fight with Zelphina, she felt the ancestral fire blaze across her skin. The strength she once failed to understand was now fully within her command, awakened by the Call of the Beachwick and the pain in Zuna's haunted gaze.

Thepa clenched her fists, her entire body trembling with fury as she braced for the approaching Galak. Escape no longer mattered; her purpose was clear. She was the Agent of Death, and her time had come. Every last one of them would pay.

Images of the blue-eye youngling once more filled her mind. Faster and faster, they came as Thepa grabbed the spear and made her way through the door to the right. She knew what the ancestors were trying to do with the pacified images, but she didn't care. Bloodlust burned through her bones, strengthening her resolve and empowering her with the might of twelve warriors, a gift from the island of Esha through her ancestors to protect the Sisterhood.

As Thepa pushed through the door, a large male Galak caught sight of her blood-fueled rage. For a moment, his brown eyes widened in shock, but Thepa was fast, much faster than the miserable Galak had ever seen. Before he even had time to lower the spear's tip in her direction, she thrusted hers into his chest.

Slunk.

The spear sank, but Thepa was on it faster than a hyena tracking its prey across a prairie. Without stopping, she let her dominant hand grab the shaft of the spear, launched it into the wall, and used it as a vault to clear the rest of the ascent. If she had time to process what was happening, she might have been quite surprised with the feat having never attempted anything of its like before, but now was not the time for such trivial accomplishments. Now was the time for revenge.

At the top, two more Galak's greeted her with surprise. The larger of the two sharpened a pair of daggers against a grindstone, while the other secured chains to a table. Thepa's fury surged anew, and she lunged for the armed Galak. He managed a feeble thrust, but she dodged with ease, twisting his wrist until it cracked, dropping the dagger into her free hand. A horn call sounded behind her, but with a swift flick, she sent the dropped dagger into its source. She didn't look back, but the satisfying sluck told her it had found its mark. Instead, she focused on retrieving its mate.

The remaining Galak stared at her in horror, which only made her smile. Thepa advanced, her steps unhurried as the Galak turned to flee. With a single, brutal sweep, she took his legs out, sending him crashing to the ground. Slowly, she raised her leg and brought it down with a sickening crack. The broken Galak cried out in agony, but Thepa ignored his tears with deaf ears. Instead, she retrieved his dagger, dug her hoof unto the palm of his outstretched hand, and approached an unknown door.

The door opened into a hallway leading to a large chamber. Unfazed by potential danger, she charged forward, images of the blue-eyed youngling flashing insistently in her mind in a vain attempt to get her to stop her foolish errand. As she passed into the larger chamber, she was temporary blinded by a sudden flash of light and a feminine voice called out to her from above.

"Enough of this, demon."

Thepa hissed in defiance, throwing the dagger in the voice's general direction as she bolted for the next door. A thud sounded behind her, accompanied by the noise of objects being hurled, but she didn't look back. Dodging a spear that lodged itself into the wall, she threw open the door and dove inside—only to find herself atop an unexpected figure.

As she raised her fist to strike, she stopped cold, staring at the blue-eyed, brown-haired satyr she'd envisioned before. Stunned, Thepa scrambled backward, the blood-fueled rage receding. The satyr stood trembling, clad in yellow and earthen-toned leather armor, something no other satyr had ever worn in her memory. Confused, she blinked, and the satyr vanished, replaced by a terrified young Galak girl, barely sixteen completions old.

Mission accomplished Mother of All, Thepa thought eyeing the girl, who shrank back in fear. She walked up to the female Galak and relieved her of her weapon unopposed. The young female closed her eyes and whimpered, but Thepa left her untouched as she considered her options.

The room she was currently in was a dead end. Not sure she wanted to go back into the open chamber, she decided to see what would happen. She didn't have to wait long, before a knock came at the door.

"Surrender Realmwalker. We have your friend."

"They think I'm the Realmwalker?" Thepa asked the female, but the girl only sobbed silently, tears running down her face.

"I have one of yours," Thepa bluffed. It might have been true, but she she had no intention of using the youngling as a hostage. She might have been forced into battle, but Thepa would not stoop to their level. The Galak was just a youngling to her.

"And what of your mate?"

Mate? Thepa shot the young Galak a questioning look. The girl slid down the wall, mirroring Zuna's defeated posture. It was clear she wasn't going to get any answers from her.

"Release the female satyr, and I'll come out safely."

"How do I know I can trust you?" came the response.

Thepa's eyes flicked to the Galak girl, silently weeping and unable to meet her gaze. "I could say the same to you," she shouted back, keeping her tone steely.

A few moments passed as Thepa waited for a response. he listened as shuffling sounds came from the other side of the door, and with no immediate attempt to breach, she tensed, ready to charge if needed. Seconds bled into minutes. Impatience gnawed at her, and she considered pressing her bluff further. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Fokin's familiar voice cut through the silence.

"She's safe, Thepa."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. Relief flared, racing through her. Without a second thought, she dropped her spear and strode back into the room she'd fled from, only to find herself encircled. Spears pointed from every angle, the tips hovering near her, but Thepa raised her hands in surrender, her eyes sweeping the crowd, searching.

The female Galak bolted out of the room and rushed to a towering male Galak standing guard over Fokin. The male was the oldest Galak in the room. His mere presence spoke as of one of authority. His body was battle-worn and sand-burnt as if it had suffered the fate of a thousand sandstorms from the harsh Galak environment.

When young female approached him and he looked down at her with kind eyes. Thepa could tell the two were kin and guessed her to be his daughter. They shared a silent exchange before he spoke in a voice both firm and gentle.

"Did she hurt you?"

"No," she whispered.

"Did she threaten you?"

A quiet shake of her head.

"You know you shouldn't have been there, don't you?" he chided, his tone barely masking his relief. "I told you, you're too young."

Her face flushed, but she allowed herself to be pulled into his arms. When he released her, his expression hardened again as he turned to Thepa, eyes cold with disdain.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, Realmwalker."