22 The Labyrinth

MYRAL DIDN’T KNOW how far beneath the surface she’d fallen. The air felt hot, and she was slick with sweat in minutes. She still had the knife strapped to her leg, at least. She drew it, holding it out in front of her as though to ward off evil, hand shaking as she walked beneath the earth. It was to make herself feel better rather than any form of defence. There were bits of bone amid the old leaves on the floor, and her imagination was already leaping to unfortunate conclusions.

The tunnels started out narrow and dark, but after a time had begun to widen. There was no sign of whomever or whatever had dragged her down. Worse, there was no sign of Hazine. She assumed Wither hadn’t fallen in, which was something, although part of her wished he had. It wasn’t pleasant being alone in the dark. She cursed herself for an idiot innumerable times, as she trod deeper beneath the world.

At first, she thought her eyes were adjusting to the darkness; a reddish-orange glow illuminated rough walls, which were sticky and wet. Then she saw huge torches in iron brackets, which appeared every fifteen feet, as the tunnel widened enough to allow three wagons abreast.

Her skin was bruised and covered in scrapes, but she had suffered no broken bones. She’d lost her shoes though, and the going proved painful and slow.

Having walked for an indeterminate amount of time, she knew she was heading downward, deeper. The slope into the earth had at first been imperceptible, but it had grown pronounced. This wasn’t the way out.

I guess it’s the way in, but to where? She decided she didn’t want to know. I’m sure I’ll find out soon anyway. Going back to where she started, if she could find it, didn’t seem like an option. She kept alert for any off-shooting tunnels no matter how small that might lead upwards.

When hands grabbed her, she couldn’t help letting out a screech. Something tripped her and she fell. As she rolled on the ground, she lashed out with fist, foot, and knife.

A grunt and a whimper confirmed she’d struck with the bronze blade. She scrambled to her feet and leapt at her assailant, knocking whoever it was backward. She needed to be quick and aggressive if she was to survive down here.

Straddling it, she placed her blade to its throat, and got a first look at her attacker. It wasn’t human, but a sickly-looking creature with pale, near translucent skin, clothed in rags, and shoeless. She realised it was weeping, snot bubbling from its nose. It was clutching its arm where she’d wounded it. A trickle of something emerged from between its fingers, but she wouldn’t have called it blood.

‘What are you?’ she demanded, pushing the blade tip into its throat. She knew she should kill it, but she thought it might be able to show her the way out. The blood had a pasty white consistency and colour. Not human and not a viral. It didn’t look like a vampire either, however.

‘Please,’ it hissed in fluent Keenish, ‘I’m sorry for grabbing you. I can’t help it. It’s in my nature, and—’

‘What are you?’

It looked wildly about, its bulging eyes seeking escape, but Myral had no intention of letting it go. She knew she should have slit its throat, but she was lost and alone. She would not find a way out without help.

‘A dhampir,’ the creature whispered, in answer to her question. ‘My name is Quel.’

‘Why did you attack me?’ The dhampir, whatever it was, looked terrified. It was clearly not an immediate threat. She relaxed somewhat, and getting off it she took a step back. However, she didn’t put away her knife. ‘Listen, I will not kill you. Not if you answer my questions.’

‘They sent me to retrieve you.’

‘They?’

‘The vampires.’

Oh well, that’s not good. ‘You’re hardly making a case for keeping you alive.’

‘Please,’ he wheedled, wringing his hands, ‘you must come with me.’

‘My companion, a young woman. Where is she?’

Quel got to his feet, and she noticed he was double jointed and emaciated. He wasn’t in good condition, unless that was what dhampirs were supposed to look like. Well, she hardly had a frame of reference to work with.

‘The vampires have taken the girl. The other is missing and they are upset about it. He was the real target.’

‘What other?’ Myral said, pretending not to know who he meant.

‘They are busy trying to find him, so I was sent to retrieve you. You must come.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ They knew Wither had been with her, then. She had hoped otherwise.

Quel became agitated as he stumbled a few steps towards her, but stopped short as she pointed the knife at him. His wound wasn’t deep, though he fawned over it. Spectrum above, it wasn’t like she’d cut his arm off. ‘You must, you must. They will feed me to the lich, if you do not come. Please!’

Myral folded her arms and stared at the creature. ‘Why should I care? What are you to me?’ Quel was wringing his overlong disjointed hands. The bones were visible through the pale skin. ‘What is a dhampir anyway? What exactly are you? A type of vampire? You don’t seem like much of one.’

The dhampir was weeping, his entire body shuddering and a part of Myral, one she tried to crush without mercy, felt guilty. You are a fool. You didn’t ask to be dragged down beneath the earth, then to be assaulted. Still, the feeling remained, though she ignored it with all her will.

On impulse she changed tactics, realising whatever this thing was, it was weaker. She knelt on one knee and sheathed her knife slow and deliberately so he would see it. ‘Okay, listen. I have no wish to see you get eaten by a, a ...’

‘A lich,’ he mumbled, swiping at his snotty nose. ‘I’m a dhampir, created by the vampires.’

‘Created? I don’t understand.’

Quel offered her a faint smile with his bluish lips, though there wasn’t much effort put into it. She took note of his long canines. He’s somewhat of a threat no matter what he says. ‘Once turned, dhampir grow to maturity during the gestation period. We emerge reborn. Hundreds of years can pass during gestation if necessary, and so it was with me. I emerged a year ago.’

Myral waved her hands at him, trying not to think about what he’d just said. It all sounded, yuck! ‘Okay, never mind. I need a way out, um, Quel, but first I must find the girl. Where did they take her?’

This time the dhampir’s smile was cruel, and she felt for the grip of her knife again. ‘If you wish to find her, you must come with me.’