The Trahiad Read online

  Wyatt turned to her and shrugged his big shoulders and then looked back at Mistress Cauth.

  “Get over here!” Elisa whispered; a little louder than she intended.

  Wyatt took a step forward but stopped as Mistress Cauth stepped from behind the counter.

  “Now, is someone there?” Mistress Cauth repeated as she moved forward. She had a small walking stick in her hand that she motioned left to right as she moved around the counter. She was heading directly toward Wyatt.

  Wyatt stepped back toward the front door as quietly as he could, but Mistress Cauth kept coming forward.

  “Perhaps the front door is ajar,” Mistress Cauth reasoned as she hummed and headed toward the door.

  She will run Wyatt out of the store! Curse me, we don’t have time for this!

  Looking around, she tried to find anything that could act as a distraction. She was away from any of the shelves so she couldn’t knock anything down… wait. She saw it. Hanging on the top of a shelf two shelves away from her was a flowerpot that had a flower and shrubs growing aggressively from it. If I give that a nudge… She started moving toward it.

  Wyatt saw what Elisa was going to do and shook his head disapprovingly. Oh, shut it, Wyatt, Elisa thought as she reached the flowerpot. We wouldn’t be in this mess if you had followed me! She stood on her tiptoes and pushed on the flowerpot.

  It fell to the floor with a crash.

  Mistress Cauth let out a startled scream. “Oh, dear!” she exclaimed as she turned around and started moving toward the source of the sound. “Is someone there? Or did I clumsily leave something on the edge of a shelf?”

  Elisa opened her mouth, then shut it quickly. Curse me, I was about to answer her question!

  The loud crash seemed to have knocked some sense into Wyatt and he hurried forward. A moment later they were on the other side of the door. “About time, you idiot!” Elisa scolded as she shut the door quietly behind Wyatt.

  “You know me,” Wyatt explained.

  “Just stop it,” Elisa said, and quickly turned her attention to the room. “Because of you we lost a few minutes that we don’t have. Just be quiet while I get to work.”

  “Whatever you say, ma’am,” Wyatt said, grumpily.

  Elisa glared at her brother. He knows I hate it when he calls me that…

  Ignoring him, she moved toward the back of the room and felt the floorboards for anything that would hide a trapdoor. “It’s in here somewhere,” she said, rubbing her fingers along the baseboards of the room. “I’m certain of it.”

  Wyatt walked to the middle of the room where a sheet was covering what looked like a box of crates. He pulled off the sheet to reveal an empty barrel and pushed the barrel to the side. “Like this?” he asked.

  He hasn’t found it already… she thought as she walked over to him. But sure enough, Wyatt grabbed a handle and pulled open a trapdoor that disappeared into the depths below.

  “Not much of a trapdoor, but it is a door in a floor that leads to the sewers,” he observed.

  Elisa glared at him as she looked down into the darkness below. As soon as she leaned over the trapdoor, an awful smell of sewage and humidity greeted her. She gasped and turned away, tears in her eyes.

  Wyatt laughed. “Ma’am, you look absolutely uncomfortable.”

  She swung a fist at him, but he dodged easily, laughing.

  “Is someone in there?” Mistress Cauth asked from the other side of the closed door.

  “Let’s go!” Elisa said as she headed down the ladder and into the sewers. Wyatt pursued this time—thankfully, the big lout—and closed the trapdoor behind him, working his way down into the depths below.

  They heard footsteps on the floor above, but they both touched the ground and darted away from the ladder and into the darkness. They waited to see if Mistress Cauth would open the trapdoor, but after a few moments of silence, they heard her feet shuffle away above them.

  “Phew,” Elisa said in relief. “That was closer than I thought.”

  “I’m not sure why we had to sneak through Mistress Cauth’s flower shop, we could have entered through a sewer hole right near here,” Wyatt said matter-of-factly.

  “This is where I saw them enter last night,” Elisa defended. “It makes sense to me.”

  “Do you have a light?” Wyatt asked.

  Elisa realized that the only light they had was coming from the crack in the trapdoor. “Dear Creator,” she said disappointingly. “Curse me, I’m such a bloody idiot! How could I—”

  “Relax,” Wyatt said as a torch ignited and flooded the sewers with light. It illuminated in front of them and spread into the sewers several feet ahead. “I came prepared.”

  She hit him. “Dragon’s blood, Wyatt! You are stressing me out!”

  Wyatt laughed. “Sorry, I’ll stop. You are doing great.”

  She looked at him suspiciously.

  “No seriously,” he said. Then, more uncertain, he added, “Do you know where to go?”

  This was the part she wasn’t so sure of. “Deeper,” was all she said, and they headed down the sewers. “I followed them for a while before I lost them. But not that way,” she added when Wyatt turned toward a tunnel to the right.

  “You said deeper? This is deeper, isn’t it?” he asked, confused.

  “That’s the way the magistrate came last night. Let’s go this other way. When I followed them last night, they went to the left and turned at every fifth tunnel before I lost them.”

  Wyatt nodded, and they started heading down the sewers in the direction Elisa recommended. There wasn’t much to see, as all the sewer passages looked the same. There was thick sewage in the waterway that passed through the tunnels, the walls were covered in who knows what, and nasty smells were thick and warm in pockets—I don’t want to think about what that means or what I’ve inhaled as we’ve passed through them… Occasionally there was the sound of dripping water, sometimes followed by a splash—I don’t want to think about what that is either…

  But they continued forward and deeper into the sewers. As the minutes passed, Elisa doubted her entire plan. She remembered the path the Trahiad had taken last night after their altercation with the Guard. They had come this direction and turned at every fifth tunnel… but today everything looked the same.

  Then she turned to the left one more time and a stream of light appeared in front of them. It filled her with hope. “There’s light ahead!” Elisa said as she moved forward quickly.

  “Slowly,” Wyatt cautioned, “we don’t know what’s up there!”

  But Elisa rushed forward anyway. She realized the light was coming from above and when she looked up; she realized it was from the cracks in a trapdoor. She felt her excitement growing. “It must lead to a hidden room. Who knows where we are? We probably aren’t even in Alderidon anymore, we’ve been traveling so far!”

  “Um,” Wyatt said as he pushed something with his toe on the ground.

  “What is it?” Elisa said as she ran to him, excited at what he found. “Is it the mark of the Trahiad? Three swords surrounding a dragon? It is, isn’t it?”

  Wyatt pushed a flower petal toward her and shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.

  “Flowers? What in the bloody Creator’s name is a flower doing down here?” Elisa asked.

  When Wyatt blushed—it must be a fierce blush for me to see it in this darkness—Elisa began to understand, and she felt herself blush, then grow hot with anger.

  “You took flowers from Mistress Cauth?” she accused.

  “I didn’t know if you knew exactly where you were going. I figured I’d leave a trail so we could find our way back,” Wyatt explained. “Only if we needed!” he defended as she raised a fist toward him. Then he laughed. “Who would have thought your little twists and turns would bring us right back to Mistress Cauth’s shop!”

  “It can’t be,” Elisa exclaimed in disbelief. But as she looked up, she recognized the trapdoor. It was the same shape and size, and below it, sh
e saw the same crates they had landed on. She cursed under her breath. How did we go in a bloody circle?

  “It was a valiant effort,” Wyatt said, trying to calm his sister. “I’m sure we can find it some other way.”

  “We need to find it,” Elisa said stubbornly. “I’m not starving anymore. We need the Trahiad, Wyatt.”

  “I know,” Wyatt agreed. But there was no mistaking the doubt in his voice. “Can we try the other direction now?” The way he said it made it sound like he added, “like I told you to from the beginning?”

  Elisa said nothing. Instead she moved forward, her anger boiling, and her embarrassment flooding. I can’t believe—

  She let out a startling scream as a man stepped out of the shadows in front of them with a sword in hand.

  “Curse me, Elisa, you freaked me out!” Wyatt stammered, but he stepped back when he saw his torchlight reflect off the newcomer’s blade. Wyatt reached for a dagger, but the man thrust his sword forward threateningly.

  “Touch your blade and you die. You’re surrounded by fifty of us,” the man said gruffly.

  Elisa and Wyatt looked at each other in fear, unsure of what to do.

  3

  The Trahiad

  Entrance and acceptance into any society is a special feat, but especially when it’s a secret society with a strenuous initiation. But initiation is important. It weeds out the strong from the weak. And any society worth joining should only be made up of the strong.

  Fifty of them surrounding us? Elisa looked around, but only saw shadows. Her initial fear at being surprised by the man was quickly subsiding. It may be possible, but… fifty? She felt frustration building and replacing her fear. I wish I had something to throw at him…

  “Understood,” Wyatt replied quickly. “We don’t want trouble. We’re just, well…” he trailed off.

  What were you going to say, make up some story on why we are strolling along in the sewers? Curse me, what an idiot!

  “Do you have proof that we invited you?” the man asked.

  Wyatt and Elisa shared a confused look, but then a glimmer of hope spread across each of their faces as they understood what he was asking for. Proof they have invited us! We’ve found the Trahiad!

  Wyatt pointed at Elisa’s pocket. “The invitation?” he gestured impatiently, as if he had known that’s what they needed all along.

  Elisa rolled her eyes at him—I hope it’s too dark for anyone else to notice—and reached inside her tunic. She pulled out the carefully folded note and held it out in front of her for the man to see.

  The man slid his sword into a scabbard at his side and grabbed the note. He skimmed it and then nodded.

  As soon as the man’s nod fell, several figures materialized out of the shadows. Several were armed with swords, a few with crossbows trained on them, and two additional men held sackcloth in their hands. Elisa was pleased to see that several of the newcomers were women. Women I can hopefully be a part of one day. She couldn’t help herself and began counting how many of them there were. That dramatic man, saying there were fifty. There’s twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

  Elisa focused as one woman stepped forward, sheathed her sword, and after nodding to the first man, reached into her tunic. A moment later her hands reappeared with two vials.

  “You need to drink this,” she stated. It was clear from her tone that they didn’t have a choice.

  Wyatt looked at Elisa, and she could see uncertainty in his eyes. As the woman approached them, she reached out her hand with the vial of unidentified liquid, expecting them to take it. It was a black liquid that seemed to move on its own accord, and it often caught the faint light from the flickering torches and swirled and shimmered in response.

  “What is this?” Wyatt asked as he took the vial intended for him. He looked at it skeptically.

  “No questions,” the woman said. “Drink it, or your journey to join our family ends.”

  Elisa swallowed nervously. She took hers and noticed how cool the vial was. She brought the vial up and examined its contents. Why would they invite me here to have me consume something harmful?

  She shook her head, unstopped the vial, and then downed the contents. It surprised her how good it tasted. It seemed to magnify her senses all at once, but a moment later the sweet taste was replaced with the most bitter taste she had ever experienced. She coughed and bent over, trying to get the taste out of her mouth.

  “Don’t spit it out,” the woman scolded.

  Elisa closed her mouth and forced herself to swallow the rest of it. When she finished, she stood up and looked straight at Wyatt, who was looking at the vial questioningly. He always was one to avoid eating things he didn’t like. If he doesn’t drink this…

  “Drink it, Wyatt,” Elisa said. “It didn’t harm me at all, though it tastes horrible.”

  Wyatt had a pained look on his face. He took a deep breath, unstopped the vial—which looked tiny in his hands—and brought it up, hesitating for a moment before it reached his lips. Then he tipped it.

  Elisa held her breath, knowing that if either of them would fail at drinking this, it would be Wyatt. But he downed the contents and then re-stopped the vial. When he finished, he began smacking his lips.

  “That wasn’t too bad,” Wyatt remarked. “A little bitter for my liking, but… not bad!”

  Elisa rolled her eyes and then handed the empty vial back to the woman. She could have sworn she saw the woman smiling at her brother.

  The first man with the sword cleared his throat and gestured toward the two men with the sackcloth.

  “No one sees where we go next,” the first man said. “Let them cover you, and we’ll lead you to the Trahiad. If you resist, your journey ends.”

  Elisa clenched her fist and set her jaw, but she didn’t move as a rough-looking man with a half-shaven face—who also reeked of urine and ale—approached her. He smiled a toothy grin as he raised the sackcloth. Just my type, she thought glumly as the sackcloth covered her head and it thrust her into darkness. Then rough hands grabbed her by the wrist and started pulling her forward.

  She immediately stumbled into sewage water and cursed as the liquid filled her boots. This is my only pair! Then she grimaced as the bilge settled between her toes and under her foot. She thought about resisting but figured it wouldn’t be worth it. If I can get into the Trahiad, I can buy a fresh pair of boots! She nearly tripped and then refocused her efforts. As long as I don’t fall face first into the water I couldn't care less about my shoes becoming sodden!

  As they moved through the sewers, she lost track of time. There were several occasions when she had to stop, turn, and then continue forward, only to stop and turn the other direction and then continue forward from there. She tried to keep track of all the twists and turns, but eventually it blurred together and she lost all sense of direction. She started counting her steps, which grew heavier as sewer water slowly rose up her pant legs—why are they having us walk through the sewage instead of next to it?—but each time she lost track when she reached several hundred. After they had been walking for what had felt like several hours, they suddenly stopped.

  “Be careful up ahead,” the toothy grinned man said. His breath reeked as he leaned in close to her. “We’ll be climbing down a ladder up ahead. When I give you the word, turn around and grab the rungs of the ladder and proceed carefully. It will be wet, so be careful!”

  She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, but then she remembered that he couldn’t see her expressions. “As you command,” she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

  She heard him laugh and immediately regretted her response as she got a whiff of his horrible breath. I can smell his breath even through this sackcloth? It must be awful!

  She got pulled forward again, so she reluctantly followed, and found herself counting her steps again. She got well into the hundreds when she suddenly cut off her counting as something changed. I can hear something different!

  She had
grown used to the steady dripping noises and the occasional shifting of the sludge of the sewers, but this noise was different. Instead of a random trickle or plop, it was a steadier sound of water falling into water. It grew louder with each step. Suddenly she started feeling a mist on her face. She couldn’t help herself from praying that it wasn’t filth from the sewer dripping onto her.

  But she was almost certain it wasn’t. The entire area felt unfamiliar. As she moved forward, the noise became louder and louder. It sounded like a river. Then she recognized it.

  It’s a waterfall!

  It took every ounce of her self-control not to rip the sackcloth off her head and look at her surroundings. A waterfall this far into the sewers? As she thought of what that would look like, her stomach gave a churn as she imagined what it would contain. A waterfall of… sewage?

  But somehow she knew that wasn’t right. For the last little while she had noticed that the smell of the sewer was changing. It wasn’t as potent as before. Either I’m getting used to it, or we are getting further away. Her heart raced with excitement at what that meant.

  “Stop,” the toothy grinned man command. The water was roaring here. She knew now that she was standing at the top of a waterfall, and from the sounds of it, it was massive.

  She was wise enough to hold her breath this time and allowed him to turn her about.

  “Here,” he said as he guided her hand to a rung.

  She felt cold, wet metal and grabbed it. Then her other hand found the other rung. As she grabbed it, she felt her excitement building. She did not understand how deep they had already traveled, only that they had continued to walk in a gradual descent for their entire journey so far. But now? Her imagination soared as she thought of what they were climbing down into.

  “Begin,” the toothy grinned man said.

  Elisa slowly lowered her foot until it found the ladder rung below. She brought her second foot down just as quickly.

  “Careful,” the toothy grinned man instructed. “There’s over five hundred rungs and it’s straight down. You slip, and…”