Chapter 2.2 - Leavi

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Dedicated to Dreams of Drem Remi of Em 
for being the best fake cousin ever

Below the hum of the grandfather whisper, footfalls still sound the way we came

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Below the hum of the grandfather whisper, footfalls still sound the way we came. A quick look passes between the three of us, and we scramble to the hole, dropping into the revealed tunnel. The last one in, Idyne grabs the door on her way, submerging us into inky black.

"Do you think they'll find us?" Jacin whispers.

Idyne pulls out a glowing charm. The half-light and close walls feel so much like the High Valley caves I grew up in, the déja vu is nearly overwhelming.

"I don't know."

We pick our way through the unnaturally straight tunnel. It's like we're spiders, skittering about, hiding from those who roam freely on the surface. None of us speak anymore, as though afraid someone could hear us through a hundred pounds of rock and soil.

We walk for hours with no end of the blackness in sight. I begin to wonder if this actually leads anywhere, if we're going to reach a dead end or wander for days, the grandfather voice having failed me. But this is man-made; surely it can't go on forever.

Just as I'm starting to doubt that logic, we reach a dead end. A single, well-fitted door sits so flush with the wall that it shows only a thin seam in the rock. I gesture for Idyne to put her charm away, and she obliges. After my eyes overcome the shock of the dark, I press against the door. When it doesn't budge, I dig into the crack to pull it instead.

It swings in easily, revealing the back of a tapestry, which I push aside. The bright torchlight of a stone hallway assaults my eyes. Before I can get my bearings, a man calls out, and rough hands grab my arms. My head flicks from side to side, revealing two armed men in shirts of jangling chain. One of them jerks me to the side, and I stumble.

They shout something at me in Aster's language, and my frantic brain struggles to process what's happening. The one holding me turns to his partner, and a short exchange passes between them. They nod.

The man's hands tighten on my arms while the other searches me, patting down my boots and legs.

"Hey!" I call.

He ignores me, working with the other man to strip off my backpack. The one holding me slings it on and regains his grip on my arms, forcing me in front of him. As he drags me down the hall, I twist in his grip.

He shakes me, leaning down to growl some warning in my ear. It's like a mountain bearing over me.

"I haven't done anything wrong," I say in Avadelian, but stop struggling. He marches me through grand stone halls with silver-capped walls and vivid mural ceilings. Alternating sconces provide light from torches and white crystals that glow with a wispy illumination. Words in the magic language echo all around me, like a chorus of whispering wizards. My eyes dart left and right, but I can't place the sources. Disoriented, I try to keep track of the soldier's turns through the labyrinthine halls, but I'm like a blind rat dropped in a maze.

Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora