Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts (52 page)

When enough time passes and I feel insecure or exposed, a raid is inevitable. These cannot simply be banished. To do that, I would have to banish my fears completely and what man can truly do that?

It is clear now that defeating the Aeris is a much more complex issue than I first thought. Perhaps this is what the dragons meant? Still, they did not understand who I am. I must get everyone to believe against the Aeris, but how to disbelieve an entire pantheon of gods?

If I cannot control my own subconscious, how can I expect an entire society to accomplish the same? Our will and belief give these Aeris life. To destroy them, every man, woman, and child would have to stop believing in the things they cherish or fear.

That will never happen. I must do something else. I must give our people something else to believe in, something stronger… something better.

T
HE
C
ATACOMBS

In grappling, hold your opponent tightly,

And do not release him, when you are thrown.

In his panic he will hold you up,

And lessen any damage you may suffer.

—Tir Combat Academy, Basic Forms & Stances

W
hy would you want to help?" Arek asked, surprise registering at Niall’s sudden appearance.

The young prince shrugged and moved into the room. "You’ve offered to help
us,
and despite your healing..." he moved closer to the other two, a look of guilt washing over his features, "I do not believe torturing you was the right decision."

In truth, his answer had little to do with his actual reason. After listening to their exchange from the door, Niall knew his cousin was just stubborn enough to get herself into real trouble. He knew the underground passageways led to nothing but empty corridors and tunnels.

Letting Tej waste her time down there was a choice more likely to keep her from doing anything stupid, and satisfied her desire to be doing
something
to exact revenge. Plus a small part of him liked the idea of leading an adventure into the catacombs, even if it was a fool’s errand. Besides, with things going the way they were, he was never getting on the wall.

Arek looked at Tej, an unspoken question on his face. He didn’t know Niall other than that they had fought each other. "I’d like you to answer a question."

Niall, nodded, knowing it would take some amount of trust before Arek would accept him.

"When we faced each other, she expected your help," he said, indicating Yetteje. "Why did you abandon her?"

Niall felt a flush of shame color his face red, followed by hot anger. How dare this intruder accuse him of cowardice? Perhaps this was a stupid idea, and allowing a so-called "guest" to walk about the fortress was madness. Then he thought of what Ash would have said. His instructor often told him his best lessons would come from the hardest tests; the ones that made you face things about yourself that you didn’t like. It was in these moments that you grew the most. At least that’s what
he
would have said.

Niall faced Arek and said, "You were my first real opponent, and I hesitated."

Arek’s eyes narrowed, but a small smile escaped, "So did I, the first time I crossed blades with my master. I asked because I wanted to know if you would lie to me or not."

Niall shook his head and looked at Yetteje. "Tej, I’m sorry." A steel came to his eyes and voice, then he said, "That won’t happen again."

Yetteje looked confused. "Wait, you didn’t attack when I did?"

The two boys looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

She looked annoyed. "It’s not funny."

More laughter erupted and Yetteje continued, "Seriously, I thought you were right behind me."

Arek looked at Tej, a smile in his eyes, and he said, "Well, in a manner of speaking, he was."

The laughter continued for a moment longer from the two and Yetteje sat back even more annoyed at the thought of her cousin leaving her to face Arek alone. That emotion slowly seeped away in the presence of these two imbeciles and she started to smile, too, though her amusement lay in the obvious stupidity of boys.

"Happy?" she finally asked. "Are the two of you friends now?"

Niall looked at Yetteje with a smile in his eyes. "I really am sorry, but if it’s any conciliation, you did much better against him than I did. I didn’t even get a strike off."

"I don’t care," Tej said with a sigh. "How are we going to get to where Arek needs to go? And by the way," she said, turning to Arek, "where is that?"

"The thing I seek is below the fortress somewhere. As we get nearer to it, I’ll know."

Yetteje scratched her head. "So you don’t know what you’re looking for?"

Arek stood up gingerly and stepped forward, careful to put as little weight as possible on his partially healed foot. "No, not exactly, but I know it exists. Think of this as an adventure."

Niall stepped around the large bed and plopped himself into a chair, happy Arek used the very word he would have used. "All right, an adventure it is, but do we just wander about down there?"

* * * * *

Time slowed and stopped, and the scene froze. Arek looked around and saw the shade of Piter appear again. He moved over to the group and looked at Arek, "A new group to torment me?"

"Piter, I’m sorry about that..."

Piter held up a hand, stopping Arek from talking further and said, "Tell them you seek a place where Shimmerene falls, a place below the fortress."

"Shimmerene? The lake?" he replied, not quite understanding.

The shade of Piter nodded. "I will guide you from there."

* * * * *

The scene snapped back and Arek blinked a few times, shaking his head.

"You all right?" asked Tej.

"Yes, but," Arek hesitated. He had grown accustomed to the sight of the shade, its appearance familiar and somehow reassuring. After all, it was his only remaining contact to the life he once had on the Isle. Still, when he thought about how he, Tomas, and Jesyn had acted towards Piter, it left him with a pit of guilt in his stomach. He could only hope the shade wasn’t trying to exact some revenge for this, or for Arek’s part in his death. The thought filled him with a nameless dread. "Sorry, yes, I’m fine. May I ask, does Shimmerene fall anywhere below?"

Yetteje looked at Niall, who became thoughtful. Then he said, "Inside Bara’cor? Doubtful. I’ve never heard of that, but I do know the entrance to the underground cisterns, which are fed by Shimmerene. From there we may find something."

"Can you take us there?" Arek asked Niall.

Niall nodded and said, "We should outfit ourselves first, though. Believe it or not, it gets pretty cold down there."

Led by Niall the three went to the door, slowed by Arek, who could manage nothing more than a hobble. Niall addressed the guards stationed outside. "I’m taking Arek to the Healers Ward. He’s complaining about his foot."

"Your father didn’t leave specific orders, my prince, but I was under the impression he was not to leave this room," the guard said nodding to Arek.

"My father named him ‘guest,’ during our last meeting, and retracted his status as prisoner. I wish to take our guest to the Healers Ward. Stand aside." Niall met the guard’s gaze with his own, his eyes not flinching.

A few heartbeats passed before the guard bowed and stepped back. "Of course, my prince."

Niall motioned to the other two and the three of them made their way out of the room and to the nearest stairwell spiraling down into the great keep’s bowels. Ahead of them lay a small storeroom, into which Niall ducked.

"Grab something warm to put on and something to eat. Not sure how long we’ll be down there," he said, stuffing his mouth with dried fruit.

Arek stood at the doorway to the storeroom, his foot throbbing. Then his eyes widened in disbelief. "Why is everything so big?"

"Huh?" Niall looked about, then asked between chews, "What do you mean?"

"Everything. The halls, this room, even the door. Everything is so
big."

Yetteje laughed. "I thought so too, when I first arrived here. I don’t even notice it now."

"The whole fortress is like that," Niall said, "like it was made for people bigger than us." He swallowed one last mouthful, then grabbed a canteen of water. "Like Tej said, you get used to it." He handed both of them something to eat, then began rummaging through the shelves for anything useful he might have missed.

Arek looked at Niall, disbelief in his expression, but didn’t comment. How could someone get used to a place where everything made you feel small?

Instead, his mouth crooked into a smile and he said to Niall’s back, "That was impressive, with the guard." He knew a prince was important, but to bluff your way past your own father’s orders? For someone raised in an environment based on a strict adherence to rank and protocol, the feat was worthy of note.

Niall shrugged. "If you act like you’re in charge, nine times out of ten, people believe it."

"Or if your last name is Galadine," Yetteje offered with a smile. "Grab the gear and torches and let’s go. Whether they believed you or not, someone will be sent to inform the king and the Healers Ward. When we don’t show up, we’ll pay the Lady’s price."

"He
was
named guest, you know," retorted Niall over his shoulder to Tej’s retreating back. Her answer was a quick spin with an eye-roll and a laugh.

Arek focused on grabbing items he thought would be useful. He checked his foot again, thankful once more for the soft boot that held it safe. Niall, had his sword, but neither Yetteje nor Arek had a weapon.

As if she read Niall’s thoughts, Yetteje grabbed a short blade and looked at Arek. "You need something?"

Arek shook his head. "No. I’m all right." They knew he was good with a blade, but even unarmed he was far deadlier than either of them could imagine. Given his injured foot, he was loathed to weigh himself down with anything more than he needed. Plus, being armed didn't sound prudent should they run into the king's forces. Arek was still very unsure of his status with the king despite these two and their reassurances. He did however wonder briefly about Tempest and whether he still needed her to complete his healing.

Satisfied they had packed lightly, but enough to make their way to the cisterns, the three left the storeroom and continued slowly down the passageway, turning and descending more than enough times through cavernous hallways to completely confuse Arek.

They passed occasional soldiers and the odd servant or two, causing Arek to comment on the lack of people.

"You really don’t understand how a siege works, do you?" Niall asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just seems strange not to run into more guards."

Yetteje answered with a small laugh, "It would help to know that most of Bara'cor has evacuated to Haven. Anyone concerned with defense is on duty near the outer walls, or along the fastest paths between those positions and supplies and food. We’re pretty deep in the interior."

Niall nodded, mirth in his eyes. "Would you rather we ran into more sentries, ones who would want to know what we’re doing?"

Yetteje leaned in conspiratorially and said, "Be thankful, we’re with a
Galadine."

"Very funny, Tej. You know we couldn’t have gotten past that guard without me."

"True." Yetteje smiled, then winked at Arek and shook her head, mouthing,
not true.

Eventually, they stopped at a large iron door. The only thing Arek knew for certain was that they were far below the sands of the desert. He shook his foot to relieve the pins and needles. It continued to throb and feel twice its size, but he could remember stubbing his toe on that White's trunk locker back on the Isle, and laughed at how much fuss he'd made. Despite the raw pain he felt from his healing foot, he knew it was better than a stump.

"This is it," Niall said, "the entrance to the lower catacombs. They’ll eventually lead us to the water cisterns." He looked at Arek and asked, "Are you sure?"

Arek nodded. "I know we have to go where Shimmerene falls."

Niall took a deep breath and opened the door. The passageway beyond was black. Lighting a torch from the wall sconce, Niall made his way in, followed by Arek. Yetteje came in last and secured the iron door behind them.

Ahead stretched the catacombs, and beyond that, a place where Arek felt he would soon meet his destiny.

F
ORGING THE
I
SLE

Just as one cannot fill an already full cup,

One cannot teach the Way of Making

To those who believe they already know.

To learn, they must first empty their cup.

—Lore Father Argus Rillaran, The Way

D
ragor grabbed another book, hefting it onto their table. "This is a list of the known Lore Fathers and Mothers. There are many pages missing, but in what’s there, the name ‘Armun’ doesn’t appear."

"Not surprising. Who knows how many were lost during the heyday of the Galadine purging," Giridian said softly.

Dragor sighed. "Did anyone mention the name?"

The lore father shook his head. "Not exactly. I remember Themun arguing more than once with Thera, who wanted to find Dawnlight. She might have said something that sounded like the name ‘Armun,’ but I could never be sure."

"Wasn’t Thera found at Dawnlight?" Dragor asked.

"By Themun," Giridian replied. They were at a dead end. There was no way to move forward without understanding the lore father’s reason for mentioning Armun, and that left only one solution. Given what Thoth had said, though, he now felt like this was a waste of time. Still, something about Themun’s dying words spurred him on. He turned around and said haltingly, "I... I will search his memories."

Dragor arched an eyebrow. "Two hundred years of it? For what, exactly? You said earlier the right vision doesn’t just pop into your head. Where do you look?"

Giridian leaned against a shelf, turning over Dragor’s question in his mind. What did he look for? Then, the solution came to him in a moment of clarity. "Maybe Themun said the name because that would be enough. Maybe I just need to focus on his name and let Themun’s memories guide me."