It’s dark underground.
That’s probably not surprising, but it makes me think that whichever bright spark named the city beneath Arcanum ‘The Buried Citadel’ had never actually stepped foot down here.
It sounds lofty, right? Like a mysterious world hidden below the pavings of Arcanum city.
In reality, it’s not even a shanty town. Instead, it’s a mix of old sewerage systems, defunct subways, catacombs, and tunnels that lead right the way through the city.
The ceiling is low in most places, barely a couple of feet above our heads, and the air feels dense and smells thick with the scent of old rock and earth. It’s claustrophobic as hell.
Dark, too.
While some sections of the tunnels have ancient electric lighting and spell-enchanted candles that are never fully extinguished. There are miles of tunnels down here that have no light at all.
Clean water is a struggle to get hold of which means I haven’t bathed in days and all three of us are covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime I don’t want to look too hard at.
Plus, there are bones down here.
So many bones.
That last one is a major issue. Since, along with the stench of this place—the mixture of years old sweat and decay and mold—my necromancy magic has been having a field day.
The bones whisper to me. All day long.
And the stuff they come out with is weirdly banal.
“Dance with me, baby.”
“It’s dark in here. Put on the light so I can kiss you.”
“I’m regretting wearing these shoes.”
“Did you see what Tim was wearing? It’s like he got dressed in the dark.”
Honestly, you’d think they’d be plotting revenge, or that the bones would be angrier. Instead, it’s like being the fly on the wall at a dive bar,
The first time I heard them was right after we came down here after escaping Felix Hawkshead, and I was pretty sure I was losing my mind. I put it down to exhaustion, magical energy drain, or an adrenaline slump. Fabian’s curse had finally broken, which was a big enough deal on its own. Then, add to that, Felix tried to kill Fabian’s little brother, and I accidentally revealed a little too much of my forbidden magic.
It’d been a day. So, a breakdown wasn’t all too out of the question.
That’s not to mention the stress of having dragged my Fabian and Seb down here with me. That’s Seb, the incurably sick teenager who was still reeling from being a hair’s breadth from death. And Fabian, the mage I’ve been steadily growing closer to over the past few months, who elected to forget me as part of the sacrifice he made to rid him of his blood curse.
So yeah. I was stressed to the max.
But even after my heart rate returned to something like normal, I could still hear them. The whispering bones.
As if this place wasn’t creepy enough.
There are skulls all over the place too. They’re inescapable. Someone has been using them as candle holders, they’re embedded into the walls, and… they’re also used as a kind of decoration, I guess? There are also piles of them just dumped all over the place for seemingly no reason.
It’s creepy as fuck.
I’ve never spent too much time exploring my necromancy magic. I’ve mostly ignored it and hoped it would go away. I’m not all that used to hanging around cemeteries, or morgues, or anywhere dead people hang out either. But down here, the bones are everywhere. Which means the whispers have been constant.
I wouldn’t have thought they’d be so damn chatty. Not that they seem to want a response. It’s more like an echo of words. Memories, maybe.
“Dance with me.”
It’s whispered in my ear often enough, waking me up whenever I jerk out of sleep at odd hours.
I’ve dealt with ghosts before, back in Arcanum in my everyday life. And at least they were semi-entertaining. They have a smidge of humanity left, so you can have a chat. But the bones seem to be a whole other matter.
It’s now been three days since we first came down here and they haven’t let up. And I’ve seen enough of this place to wish we’d never come down here. We’ve been steadily making our way through the tunnels, trying to get to the boundary of the city so we can find a way out of Arcanum. It’s slow-going, especially after our first encounter with the sorts of people that live down here.
We stumbled across one of the abandoned subway stations on our first day here, and it’s not a mistake I’m planning on making again. The place was lit up and warmer too.
Too bad the cause of that warmth was thanks to the unknown meat being cooked on a spit on top of burning barrels. It only took a minute for us to spot them before Seb tugged me on the elbow.
“That doesn’t look like rat meat.”
No, it didn’t. It was far too big, too… torso shaped. As soon as they spotted us, the person behind the nearest barrel hissed in my direction, brandishing a long, sharp fork. They looked semi-feral. Desperate people with nowhere else to go.
I quickly summoned my glamor to make me unnoticeable, grabbed Seb’s hand in one of mine and Fabian’s in the other and we got the hell out of there.
Thankfully, no one followed us. I guess keeping guard over the food was more important than trying to scare us off.
Since then, we’ve avoided any other run-ins. Mostly with the help of my glamor magic, ensuring anyone goes straight past us without noticing the two mages and a witch huddling in the shadows.
“Hey, Silver?” Seb says, drawing my attention out of my head to where he’s walking beside me. “How much further do you think we’ll be going today?”
I glance over at him, noting the way he’s limping slightly. Damn, the last lot of vampire blood he had to help with his sickness is showing signs of wearing off already. The conditions down here aren’t exactly healthy for anyone, but Seb’s not used to walking much and the air we’re all breathing is stale.
I mentally track through the directions Rook gave me earlier today. We should be just a couple of minutes’ walk away from another section of catacombs. While they’re not good for my sanity, thanks to the millions of noisy bones hanging around, they tend to be deserted, since no one else seems to enjoy sleeping so close to the ancient burial grounds.
I nod. “Just a couple more minutes,” I tell him.
The sound of hushed whispering draws me closer, telling me we’re going in the right direction. These bones are at least a little quieter than the ones we’ve come across over the past few days. Instead of intelligible words, the sounds they’re making are more of a murmuring, like how I’d imagine it sounds to be in a forest, surrounded by trees. I let out a little sigh of relief. Seems like I might actually get some sleep tonight.
The tunnel we’re walking along opens up into a domed, dimly lit cavern. Its walls are bare earth and stone, etched with ancient sigils that I can feel pulsating with latent magic. The carvings seemed to respond to the rhythm of my heartbeat.
“We’re staying here?” Seb asks quietly.
“For now. We’ll sleep here tonight as well.”
There’s a recessed alcove which Seb plops down into. It’s hard rock, just like everything else down here. There are zero comforts, no softness to be found anywhere.
“Come on, man. We’re staying here for a bit. Sit down,” Seb says to his older brother, who is roaming around the space, like he’s looking for hidden dangers.
“Are you both all right here if I go to find us something to eat?” I ask.
“Sure. Are you gonna be okay going by yourself?” he asks.
I try to smile at Seb, but it’s half-hearted. We’ve been walking all day and my feet are burning in my boots. While I’d love nothing more than to sit down and rest, it’s clear Seb can’t carry on walking. And since Fabian forgets about my very existence as soon as he turns his head, I don’t trust him to bring me any food back.
Food has only recently started to become an issue. By dumb luck on the first day down here, we came across a hidden cache of tins which turned out to be unspoiled and they’ve kept us going until now.
Right now, I’m exhausted, and my head is weirdly foggy. I haven’t eaten or drunk enough in days and it might be hours before I can find us something to eat. Still, I plow on, turning back the way I came and continuing on through the tunnels alone.
*
Maybe making a decision while panicked and terrified wasn’t the best idea. All I wanted was to get Seb to somewhere safe, in case Felix came after us once he regained consciousness.
My brain went straight to ‘we need to get out of Arcanum’ and since getting out of this city when you’re unnamed and undocumented like me is almost impossible, we needed someplace safe to lie low for a few days.
‘Safe’ is no longer the word I’d use to describe what it’s like down here. I mean, I knew it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk, but the reality of this place is so much worse than I thought.
“Hey, Ember. Any luck talking to Roscoe or Zeph yet?” I summon a little of my magic and send the words telepathically as I head back through the tunnels, in search of something to eat and drink.
That’s one type of magic I’m thankful for, at least. My cell phone has zero signal down here and we’d be totally cut off if I wasn’t able to get in touch with Ember.
He responds pretty quickly, somehow managing to drawl even when responding directly into my brain. “Not yet. Seems like they got back to business a few days ago, but it’s like trying to get a meeting with damn royalty. I had some seriously suspicious side-eye when I said I wanted a word.”
I groan and rub my eyes. Typical.
“You all right, Silver?”
“I’m okay.”
Apart from the pounding headache that’s been plaguing me. It’s a mixture of dehydration, poor ventilation, not enough food, and of course, the damn whispering bones preventing me from sleeping.
I’m exhausted. Mentally frayed.
And emotionally, I’m feeling kind of… fragile right now.
Mostly thanks to having to spend so much time around Fabian. Every time I look at him and he gives me that adorably confused frown, like maybe I’m someone he’s bumped into at the local store but never directly spoken to. Like there’s a sense of familiarity there, but it’s so vague he can’t place me and subsequently dismisses me.
Yeah, that sucks.
“Well… that’s a lot.”
Dammit, I must be more frazzled than I thought. I didn’t mean to broadcast any of those thoughts to Ember.
He pauses for the longest time and I miss the distraction of his voice as I skirt past yet another entire wall of bones. Not sure what it is or why it’s here. Maybe it’s artwork. Maybe someone’s been trying to summon a demon god. Whoever designed this forsaken place had clearly spent too much time down here without access to clean air.
I then have to pass down a section of the labyrinthine tunnels that has no lighting at all. Summoning a little ball of fire so that I don’t trip over my own feet, I walk fast, not wanting to linger any longer than necessary.
“I’ll try again to talk to your mages,” Ember says.
“They’re not my anything,” I grumble back.
My stomach swoops with anxiety. I dread to think what they must think of me right now. They won’t even know that Fabian’s okay, or that his curse is gone.
Although whether he’s ‘okay’ is kinda complicated right now. His body seems a little messed up, and he’s got the memory of a goldfish—at least with his memories of me—which makes finding out about his well being a tricky thing.
He doesn’t know me anymore.
Doesn’t trust me.
And having the same conversation repeatedly is like the slowest form of torture. Not to mention how heartsick it makes me.
“And if that doesn’t work,” Ember adds. “I can see if I can get close enough to that fucker, Felix, to find out what he’s thinking about you and the kid.”
“Ember—”
“I know I can’t remove you from his head like the mini mage-ling can, but that doesn’t mean I can’t mess him up a bit. Scramble a few wires until he’s not sure what he knows. Hell, I could make it so he barely knows his own name. Bombard his brain with outside voices and thoughts. See what happens.”
Ember’s voice is lined with steel and I’m so shocked by what he’s saying, I can’t even think for a moment.
He’s so protective of himself and his magic. It took years before any of us learned what he can do. He hates his powers like no one else and barely uses his telepathy other than to talk to me, and that’s only when the need is dire.
Too bad that tends to be a weekly occurrence for me.
But I’ve never, in all the years that I’ve known him, heard him threaten to use his magic as a weapon. Using telepathy is illegal, after all. It’s one of the banned forms of magic, just like my necromancy.
It scares the shit out of the Archarcans, the elite rulers of our city.
“Ember—” I try again to get some words out, but he’s not listening.
“You shouldn’t have to run away. You shouldn’t be down in that place because of that mage.” He spits the last word like it's tainted with poison. “You were brave, Silver. You’re always brave. You do what needs to be done, and that’s why you agreed to help Fabian. I know that slimy fucker threatened you, but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t have helped Fabian and the others, anyway. Then you saved Seb’s life, and you didn’t hide who you are or what you can do.”
I shake my head, rubbing my tired eyes. “It wasn’t like I planned any of it, Ember. It all just happened.”
“I know, but I also know that you’d do the same thing all over again.”
He’s got me there. I can’t think of the sequence of events ending up any differently.
“Be careful down there and just hold on a little longer. We’ll get you home soon enough.”
“Thanks, bud. I’m just on the look-out for somewhere to get some food. Rook doesn’t have any ideas, does he?”
Rook has always had an innate sense for routes and exits. I don’t know exactly how it works, seeing as he doesn’t seem to have any actual magic that I know of. I also don’t know if his little talent might stretch to knowing where to get sustenance. Maybe it’s my over-tired brain, but it makes sense to me that he might, if he has some kind of innate powers of survival.
Ember goes quiet for a few minutes and I continue to trudge along. My footsteps are the only sound and I’m trying to keep my tread as light as I can, but it’s not easy when my legs are damn tired.
“He says if you walk for another five minutes, keeping to the right when you hit the fork in the tunnels, there should be someone close by that sells food so long as you make a donation.”
My stomach grumbles and churns simultaneously. I’m so hungry, my insides are starting to eat themselves. But his mention of ‘donations’ has my guard going up.
“Donations?”
“Nothing too bad,” Ember replies. “Just a chunk of your hair, apparently.”
I sigh internally. This fucking place.
I’m too tired to even question how Rook has any of this knowledge. It’s not like he’d tell me if I asked, so I keep my thoughts to myself.
Plodding further through the tunnel, I mentally repeat Rook’s instructions until I can smell meat cooking up ahead, which I’m hoping is a good sign.
Please don’t let it be more torsos.
I reach the fork. Turn right. Trudge a little further along until I reach a little cart that’s set up.
I nod at the slightly scary lady that seems to be cooking her version of ‘street food’. The air is filled with a haze of smoke and the scent of cooking meat and vegetables—who knows how she got hold of both in this hellhole.
She looks almost human at first glance. Brown hair and wizened pale skin that clearly hasn’t seen sunlight in a long time. Then her eyes flick up to mine and I see the slitted pupils, which are almost sibilant.
Demon.
She doesn’t talk and barely makes eye contact.
“Uh, hello,” I say to her, holding up my fingers to indicate how many pieces of mystery meat I want, like an idiotic tourist. “Three, please.”
She nods jerkily and gestures to the little clay golem beside her. It’s a misshapen thing, just one giant head and a pair of tiny hands and feet. As I watch, it blasts fire from its mouth onto the rotating skewers in front of her. My magic rears up inside of me at the use of magic, absorbing the skill almost instantly and tucking it away with all the rest. I don’t know exactly what it is—whether it’s the ability to make a seriously ugly golem, or if it’s the firepower.
Whatever she’s cooking is small and weirdly enough, I’m hoping it’s a rat. Not something I ever thought I’d be hoping for in my normal life.
The mystery meat is cooked until it’s almost black. Still, it’s better than the alternative which is starving.
She cocks her head to one side and gestures to my hair. But before I can chop some off for her, I notice the storm drain in the ceiling above her and the empty bottles and containers that line the ground along the walls.
“I have another trade for you,” I tell her. “You need some fresh water?”
Her head cocks to one side and for a moment, I worry she doesn’t understand me. Barely a moment later, though, she nods jerkily and gestures to the containers.
This is something I can help with. It’s more useful and certainly way less creepy than chopping off pieces of me and handing them over.
I pull on my newest magic—Zeph’s storm powers and beg the sky for rain.
I’ve been doing the same thing over the past few days, ever since we first arrived down here. And I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have survived without it.
The demon lady cocks her head to the side, wrapping the meat in paper and then tapping the top with one clawed fingertip.
A couple of long moments later and then the rainwater starts to trickle down the walls, dripping into the containers.
Fresh-ish water.
I’ll keep on pulling on my magic for a few minutes, just until the containers fill up, since we’re also at a risk of flooding down here.
We don’t need to make this place any more dangerous than it already is.
The demon lady lets out an excited little squeak and jumps into action, laying out more containers as the trickle becomes stronger and her containers fill with water. Ten minutes later, I pull back my magic to stop the rain and help the demon lady to collect up her containers again. She hands a full one over to me, along with a newspaper-wrapped package of food that’s still steaming. She also passes on an unlabelled tin, which she presses into my hand with another toothy smile. I nod my thanks, which earns me a brief, sharp-toothed grin.
I then turn on my heel and begin the entire rigamarole of finding my way back to Seb and Fabian.
*
I find the two of them slumped against the wall where I left them. Fabian’s the first to notice me and his whole body goes on the alert as he springs up and gets between me and his little brother.
My heart sinks, even though it’s not the first time this has happened. Nowhere close.
“What do you want?” he rasps.
“Stand down, big guy,” I tell him as he towers over me, all broad-shouldered and stupidly tall.
I don’t touch him, even though my fingers itch with the need to.
“Fabian, it’s fine,” Seb says softly, shooting me a guilty half-smile. “This is Silver. She’s a friend.”
It’s like talking down a bristling dog that’s about to attach itself to your leg. You stay calm and show you’re no threat. Too bad the food is currently burning a hole in the skin on my arms, so I don’t really have time for patience right now.
I thrust one parcel at Seb and his smile widens into something that’s far too cheerful for the setting.
“And she’s brought us food.”
Fabian eyes the parcel and his brother before his eyes rest on me for a long moment. I smile and try to look harmless as I gather some of the collection of flammable stuff I’ve been gathering in my wandering so that I can make us a fire.
I’m bone tired. But it gets damn cold down here and while the two of them can huddle together for warmth, it’ll only be another ten minutes before Fabian forgets who I am once again, and we have to go through the whole thing again.
The two of them fall on the parcel of food like they’re starving, cramming it into their mouths until their lips are greasy. I take a long sip of water and hand over the tin to Seb, which he opens with far more excitement than an unlabelled tin should ever garner.
“Holy shit, it’s peaches.” He scoops one up and sucks it down with a little, mumbled groan of pleasure. Seb then passes them over to me and I take a couple of pieces, slipping them into my mouth greedily and swallowing down the sweet fruit. I ignore how this little kindness almost brings tears to my eyes and hand the tin back to Seb to pass to his brother.
Once I’ve made us a little fire pit, I plop down onto the damp ground, pulling my jacket closer around me. I won’t risk starting the fire just yet. Seeing flames shoot out from my hands always causes Fabian to freak out and I can’t handle that right now.
If I’m honest, I’m not sure how much longer I can cope with this. It’s not the cold, or the damp, or even the bone whispers.
We can’t stay here forever.
We need to find the city boundaries down here. Although who knows how long that will take? Or we need to find a way back up to the city and hope for the best. But without hearing any news from Roscoe or Zeph, I just don’t know where is left that’s safe for us to go.
One way or another, we’re going to need to resurface at some point soon.
And who knows what reaction I’ll face once we do?
