Champions of Zaun

Chapter Fourteen

One of his scouts came running back up from the tunnel ahead, interrupting his thoughts. The man drew in a few deep gulps of breath as he came to a standstill right in front of him, evidence of how hard he'd run to bring whatever message he carried. Ferdinand found himself holding his breath.

After he'd recovered, the man spoke, "About five hundred yards ahead and down, there's a large group of people. Fifty, sixty of them, if I had to guess. They all appear to be dressed in grey robes, and they're sitting right at the edge of that miserable, goopy shit. It seemed weird; they weren't scared of it in any way, it looked like. They were just staring down into it. I thought it was worth mentioning."

"Any sign of Slane with them?" Ferdinand asked, feeling irritated that the news wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"No, but—"

"Then why bother me with this? We're looking for Slane, not for a group of idiots who gaze off into oblivion!"

"I was just going to get to that," the man said, wounded. "It looked like the Dayboss might have been among them."

"The Dayb... are you sure?" Ferdinand demanded.

"It was hard to see from my angle, and there wasn't exactly a whole lot of light, but it definitely looked like him. Same round face, same ruined mouth, same body type, though that was difficult to tell under the robe. He was ordering some of the others around. If I had to bet, I'd put my money on it being the Dayboss."

Ferdinand frowned as he tried to puzzle things out in his mind. He'd sent the Dayboss out to look for Slane probably over a week ago, and the man had been missing since. Well, missing was perhaps a strong word, as Ferdinand was just as glad to have that bastard out of his hair, but he'd not been seen since. Ferdinand figured the fool had gotten himself killed by Slane, most likely, or by the Champions. He didn't care enough to send someone out to find out. Good riddance, as far as he was concerned.

For the Dayboss to not just be alive, but to now be sitting here along with a group of imbeciles who were staring into the Gray, was absolutely absurd. For all the man's flaws, and he did have many, he wasn't someone who was given over to just sitting somewhere, wasting time. So if it was him, why was he here? He tried to come up with any kind of reason, but he just drew utter blanks. Finally, he made a decision. "Fuck it, show me where they're at. Maybe that fat fool can give us some kind of clue about Slane's whereabouts."

The scout nodded and quickly set off again, leading the way. Ferdinand motioned for his group of men to follow him, and all of them followed the scout even further and deeper into the depths below Zaun.

About ten minutes later, as they were approaching the location the scout had been talking about, Ferdinand motioned for Tolnar to join him.

"I want you to stay behind. Find a vantage point so you can see what's happening, but whatever happens, I need you to stay out of it," Ferdinand whispered, so as not to be overheard by any of the others.

"I can fight, you know," Tolnar objected, though he kept his voice low as well.

"I do, but you're too valuable to risk. You're just about the only one left who brings in any money. But I also need you to do something else..."

Tolnar listened to his instructions, then nodded and set off, presumably to go find himself a vantage point. Ferdinand let out a deep sigh, prayed sending Tolnar off would prove unnecessary, then motioned for his group to join him. They took one final staircase down, then entered into a large cavern-like area. Multiple giant pipes ended everywhere around the walkways and gantries, and he figured this was where the old run-off pipes ended, which would carry all the millions of gallons of rainwater away during the fiercest storms. These pipes were all that kept Zaun from drowning during the heaviest rainfalls of the season.