James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

Then the man was shutting the door again, apparently satisfied the room was empty.

Davian waited a few seconds, then took several shaky lungfuls of air. He slumped onto the bed next to Wirr, putting his heads between his knees as he tried to slow the pounding of his heart.

A few long minutes later, Wirr gave a small moan, then stirred.

"What’s going on?" he asked Davian, rubbing his eyes as he propped himself up. "Where are we?" He winced. "Fates, my head hurts."

"Still in the Tol," said Davian. He recounted the events of the past hour to Wirr.

Wirr shivered once Davian had finished, looking nauseous. He took a deep breath, staring at the tattoo on his forearm. "So we need to get out of here," he said. "The Tenets are definitely changed?"

Davian nodded. "I think so. The Council certainly did, too."

Wirr levered himself out of bed. "Then we should get moving."

He was halfway to the door when it swung open.

"Taeris!" Wirr exclaimed.

Taeris winced, limping inside and putting his fingers to his lips.

"Not so loud, Wirr," he muttered as he shut the door.

Davian stared at Taeris for a long moment. He still felt a deep, burning anger towards the man, but now wasn’t the time to bring it up. The issues between them would have to wait.

"What’s going on, Taeris?" he asked, tone grim. "I thought you were locked up."

"I was." Taeris gave the door a nervous glance. "Nashrel came to let me out when he realised what was happening. He told me where you were before he…." He grimaced, looking at the ground. "He didn’t make it."

"He’s dead?" Wirr paled. "Fates. What’s happening out there?"

"Most of the Gifted that didn’t head for the Shields are dead. The Blind have mostly moved on into the city, but there are a few groups sweeping the Tol, looking for survivors." Taeris spoke quietly, but Davian could hear the anxiety in his voice. "The new Tenets do let us use Essence in combat, but the Blind’s armour is still making it hard to fight them, especially in enclosed spaces."

"How did they even get in here?" asked Davian.

"Nashrel thought they were coming through the catacombs." Taeris looked sick. "There’s a network of old tunnels, deep beneath the Tol, that supposedly have an exit out past Ilin Tora. No-one knows where that exit is, though." He rubbed his forehead. "Those roads are a labyrinth, but Nashrel said the sha’teth have been using them. It’s how they get in and out of the city unseen when they go about their… business."

Davian felt a chill. "So the sha’teth are here? Helping the Blind?"

Taeris nodded. "It would seem so."

Wirr grimaced. "And the Tol didn’t guard this entrance, I take it?"

"They didn’t think they needed to, and I don’t blame them," said Taeris. "The catacombs come out next to the Conduit, something the Builders created to help power the Tol. Any living thing coming that close to it should have died within seconds." He made a face. "The Blind’s armour must have protected them against it, somehow."

There was silence for a few moments, then Davian shifted nervously. "So what do we do now?"

Taeris chewed at his lip, expression thoughtful. "There’s nothing more we can do here. If we want to help, we need to get back to the fight."

Davian and Wirr both nodded; Davian helped his friend to his feet, glad to see that Wirr’s strength seemed to be returning.

Taeris opened the door a crack, peering through cautiously before beckoning for the boys to follow.

They started out through the Tol in a silent half-jog, Taeris going ahead and checking around each new corner. After a minute, they entered a new hallway and Davian faltered.

Crumpled, lifeless bodies littered the way ahead. They were all Gifted, from their red robes. He knelt by the closest one – a young man, no older than Davian – but the Gifted’s chest was still, and his eyes were glassy as they stared at the roof. Davian stood unsteadily.

"It’s like this everywhere," Taeris warned him.

They moved on; every new corridor greeted them with eerie, unsettling silence – and in a few cases, more bodies. A couple of the corpses were holding daggers, which Wirr collected as he went. Davian wasn’t sure how much use they would be against swords; even so, he didn’t refuse the one that Wirr offered him.

A few tense minutes passed. Davian’s eyes and ears strained for any hint of danger, but it was still without warning that the two black-armoured men wandered into the passageway up ahead.

Though they were not wearing the distinctive helmets, there was no doubting who they were.

Before anyone could move, Davian felt Wirr gathering Essence; his friend threw it at the soldiers, aiming for their exposed heads. To Davian’s dismay, the bolts seemed to simply evaporate just before they made contact.

“Looks like we missed a couple,” snarled the man on the left.

Wirr and Davian both took a faltering step back and drew their daggers as the men began walking towards them; though they started more than thirty feet away and appeared to be moving at an almost casual pace, they were covering the space between unnaturally fast.

"Your knives, boys. Throw them now," said Taeris urgently.

Davian and Wirr both hesitated for a split second, then did as Taeris instructed, throwing the blades wildly at the oncoming soldiers.

Taeris stretched out his hand.

The daggers stopped for a second in mid-air as if frozen in time, then spun, their blades pointing straight at the approaching men.

The soldiers were fast, but Taeris was faster. The daggers blurred forward; the Blind may not have needed their helmets to stop Essence, but steel was another matter. They yelled something incomprehensible as they saw the danger too late.

Taeris sunk a dagger into each man’s left eye.

The soldiers crumpled to the ground, pools of scarlet forming on the stone around their heads. Davian leaned weakly against the wall, staring at Taeris, who was busy reclaiming their blades from the bodies.

"So the new Tenets really are working," he said eventually.

Taeris gave a tired nod. "We were just lucky they weren’t wearing their helmets. Fully armoured, we would have had to run." He handed both boys a dagger each, the blades now smeared with red. "We should get moving. We’re not far from the gate."

Davian nodded, accepting the dagger and trying not to look at the corpse it had come from. His stomach churned. Fighting the Blind with their helmets on, without the advantage of the Shields… Tenets changed or not, he shuddered to think of how the Andarrans were going to fare. For the first time, he couldn’t see how this was a fight they could win.

Still, they had to try. He took a deep breath to steady himself, nodding to Taeris.

"Lead the way," he said quietly.

They headed down the corridor at a jog.

Caeden looked around the massive cavern in despair.

This one was nearly identical to the many others he’d already crossed, and he was beginning to wonder if he was moving in circles. His head spun a little from the oppressive heat as he examined the expansive maze of narrow paths ahead. Slim walkways of hewn black stone crisscrossed the vast, open space, their treacherously sheer sides plummeting into the seething river of molten rock far below.

Some paths ended abruptly, their crumbling edges highlighted by the fierce glow that emanated upward, tingeing everything an angry red. Others appeared solid enough… but that made the prospect of walking on them no less daunting. He’d already had several secure-looking footholds threaten to crumble beneath his weight.

Caeden wiped sweat from his brow, taking a deep breath to ensure he wasn’t getting light-headed again. The heat hadn’t been a problem at first, but he’d been wandering this network of caves for hours now, following the inexorable flow of lava in search of an exit. Dehydration was beginning to rob him of his balance. Along these narrow walkways, that could easily result in a quick but painful death.