Reunification (8 page)

Then an idea occurred to me to convince
her to let me go. It was a brilliant idea, as brilliant as the sun
that shone over Dela and Xeeo, far more brilliant than I ever was.
Perhaps the Old Gods had given me this idea, though whether they
did or did not, I would still use it.

So I said, “There is another reason ye
cannot keep me down here forever, Lanresia. I imagine ye know this
already, but I am a Knight of Se-Dela. Tomorrow, I am supposed to
return to work, and if I do not, then my fellow Knights will notice
and begin to search for me. They will find ye, and once they do,
your precious Foundation will come crashing down all around ye like
building blocks stacked on top of each other.”

“
Your fellow Knights
couldn't find us if we opened the front door and placed a giant
'WELCOME' sign in neon lights outside it,” Lanresia replied, with
more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “But you are correct that
we can't keep you down here forever. Don't worry; we'll send you
back home soon, once all of this is over.”

Lanresia snapped her fingers. My eyelids
became as heavy as a sack of potatoes and my muscles began to
relax. My conscious rapidly began slipping away even as I realized
what was going on: she had cast a sleep spell on me, the witch. I
had not noticed any skyras rings on her fingers, but perhaps the
Xeeonites could use magic without needing those, or maybe she had
some other way of doing it.

I reached out toward her, but it was no
use. Sleep was coming upon me like a falcon flying over a field
mouse. I tried to fight it, but it was like trying to fight the
winds of a tornado.

Just as sleep conquered me, a loud
explosion rocked the room, causing Lanresia to stagger. The chair
was knocked over, as if someone had thrown it, and my bed shuddered
and shook with the explosion.

But I did not have a chance to find out
what was going on, because the comforting darkness of sleep claimed
me at last.

***

Chapter
Four

M
ine dreams were as frightening and
bizarre as the wildest tales of the story scribes. 'Twas like I
slept in an iron oven, burning like an everlasting flame, with the
groaning and clanking of the metal booming in my ears. My skin
seemed to melt before my very eyes, like butter on a hot pan, but I
could not scream because mine mouth was burned shut and my tongue
flew above my head, circling my crown like a vulture.

Even worse, strange creatures crawled
along the ceiling, growling and howling like the wild dogs of the
Fertile Lands. Some of them did not have eyeballs, while others
only had fire leaking out of their empty sockets like a leak from a
dam.

Such horrifying visions made me cry out,
which was strange, because mine mouth was still sealed shut.
Nonetheless, I cried out, unable to believe what my eyes showed me,
and I thrashed about until I rolled off the oven rack and onto the
floor of the oven below.

Yet when I landed on it, I did not burn
into pieces. Instead, like the flip of a switch, I found myself
lying on the soft mattress of the bed I had been sleeping on inside
the Foundation, but it was nigh impossible to see because of the
darkness of my room. I did not see any sign of those strange
imp-like creatures, nor did I hear the oven's creaking and groaning
anymore.

That is not to say that I was well,
however. The room was unnaturally hot; 'twas like a hot summer day
in the Fertile Lands, though without the cool breeze that usually
accompanied that heat. Sweat ran down my temples and a strong stink
of smoke entered my nostrils, burning them and making me feel as
though I was trying to breathe toxic gas.

I pushed myself up on my hands and looked
around at my surroundings more closely. The room was almost too
dark to see in, but every now and then the florescent light bulb
above would flicker on, giving me glimpses of what the room was
like now.

It looked essentially the same as I
remembered it, except that a chunk of the ceiling had fallen at the
foot of mine bed (explaining the weight I felt near my feet) and it
smelled like smoke and fire, even though I saw neither. Lanresia
was nowhere to be seen; not even her annoying speaking snake was
present. This disturbed me greatly, especially when I saw that the
door had been blasted off its hinges and lay, a smoldering heap, at
the foot of mine bed. As for the camera, it hung loosely from the
wires connecting it to the ceiling, though that did not disturb me
quite so much as the way the rest of the room appeared.

What had happened here? I did not know.
Did remind me of a photograph I once saw, of a Xeeonite hospital
room after a mad bomber had blown himself up in it. Only, in the
photograph, there had been more blood and corpses.

My body was so sweaty that it made my
clothes stick to my skin like a second layer. I sat up, pulling at
my sleeves and shirt to loosen them around my body and allow air to
flow through, though the air in this room was so stifling that I
felt even more sweat coming from my pores.

It might have been wiser to simply sit
back and wait for one of the Foundation's members to return and
tell me what happened. Though I still knew nothing about what
caused the explosion, I knew enough to say that this was not a
normal occurrence down here. Unfortunately, I was unarmed and not
certain how much of the Foundation's hidden underground
headquarters was left, which meant it would be foolish for me to
search for answers on my own.

Indeed, for all I knew, the explosion
might have completely blocked off all escapes routes from this
place. Perhaps it had even cut off our air supply, which meant that
I would soon run out of air and when I did, then I would truly
die.

But it was not in mine nature to simply
sit back and let others act in dangerous situations. I had to find
out for myself what was going on in here, even if there was nothing
I could do about it. Besides, despite the heat making mine clothes
stick to my body, I felt as though I could stand up and walk, at
least, which 'twas all I needed to do.

So I sat up and threw mine feet over the
side of the bed, but when they touched the floor, I pulled them
back up quickly. The floor was hot, almost too hot to touch, and I
had no shoes nor socks nor boots nor any other footwear covering my
feet. It burned with the might of a thousand fires, but if I was to
find out what had happened here, I would need to brave it
anyway.

Gritting my teeth, I lowered my feet onto
the floor again. It still burned hotly, but not quite as before.
Maybe the floor was cooling or maybe I was just getting used to it.
Or maybe—most likely—it was my own bravery aiding my feet in
resisting the heat that had been left over by the explosion.

Although, now that I thought about it, why
did the floor burn if the explosion had not happened in here? 'Twas
like someone had set the entire headquarters on fire, yet the
flickering of the florescent bulb showed little evidence of flame
anywhere. What a strange mystery.

But before I went any further, I knew I
needed a weapon. Assuming the explosion was the responsibility of a
vile enemy, I would need to defend myself. Yet when I looked around
the room, I saw no sign of any weapons I could use, not even so
much as a rock to throw.

Thus, I picked up the plaster that had
fallen from the ceiling onto my bed. It was hot and crumbly between
my fingers, which made me doubt it would be good for more than one
hit, but sometimes all ye needed was one good hit to the head to
defeat even the mightiest foe.

With my trusty chunk of plaster at mine
side, I advanced toward the open doorway. The closer I drew to the
doorway, the worse the smoke became, though it was nowhere near as
thick as it could have been. Praise be to the Old Gods, who must
have somehow kept me safe from the worst of the smoke during the
initial explosion, for aside from some scratchy lungs, I had not
choked to death due to the smoke.

No noise emitted from beyond the doorway.
I peered through it and saw a long hallway stretching down both
ways just outside mine room. 'Twas a dark hallway, though as with
the florescent light in my room, a few bulbs here flickered on and
off.

What the flickers showed unsettled me
greatly. Corpses lay in the hallway, ones I did not recognize. The
corpses appeared scorched by fire, as did the walls and floors,
which told me that the explosion must have come through here at
some point. The combined stink of blood and smoke entered mine
nostrils, making me gasp from the horribleness of it all.

The corpses, from what I could tell, were
mostly human, though I noticed an ape-like Rathonian that appeared
to be missing its head. The explosion might have killed them … or
maybe something else entirely had done so.

For that matter, I could not tell if they
were Foundation members or perhaps belonged to whoever had started
the explosion. Considering how light the stink of blood and smoke
was, and how cool the floor was in comparison to the floor of my
room, I wondered just how long I had been out. Was it already the
next day?

Surely my fellow Knights must have noticed
that I had not returned by now. Perhaps they had even sent a page
to my bed to find out why I had not yet awakened, though I could
not be sure even of that much, for mine sense of time was
thoroughly off. For all I knew, I could have been sleeping for
years, like the Heavy-Eyed Man of that old children's fairytale my
mother used to tell me when I was little.

In any case, I did not have the luxury of
hiding in mine room forever. There were still many questions I did
not have an answer to and the only way to find those answers was to
move bravely forward, regardless of what threats awaited me in the
darkness.

Thus, I inched out of my room as carefully
and slowly as I could. I was not moving cautiously out of fear, but
because I did not want anything to jump me when I least expected
it. In my younger days, I would always run headfirst into these
kinds of situations, but several lessons from Sir Lockfried—my
mentor—and a few beatings of his had removed that habit from me
fairly quickly. That I lacked any shoes also made it prudent to go
forward only cautiously, for I did not wish to step on anything
that could draw blood or stick into mine feet.

Still, it seemed like the hallway was
abandoned, as though whoever had come through this way was long
gone. I might very well be the only living thing down here; 'twas a
disturbing and unsettling thought, even though it meant that I did
not need to be quite as cautious as before.

I did not know which way might take me out
of the Foundation's headquarters, so I prayed to Vilina of the Old
Gods for guidance. I did not know if the Old Gods could even hear
me on Xeeo, as they were said to live on Dela's moon, but I had to
ask for her guidance anyway, as she was the goddess of travel and
hence could grant me guidance in these matters.

Whether it was mine own feelings or an
answer from Vilina, I eventually decided to go to the right. I
reasoned that if it turned out to be a dead end, I could just as
easily turn around and head back the way I came, could I not? (Of
course, if it turned out to be the way to my death, then I would
not be able to do much.)

So down that way I went. Although I was
certain that there were no other living beings down here but
myself, I nonetheless looked over my shoulder every now and then to
assure myself that I was by no means being followed. I saw not a
hint of anyone following me, not even when the lights flickered,
but I still felt as unsafe as if I had walked into a den of
vampires. That feeling made me pray even harder to the Old Gods for
help and confidence, though not for safety, because there was no
safety to be found down here.

The first corpse I came upon was a male
human, clearly a native of Xeeo, if his metal lower jaw was a clue.
He lay on his back, his eyes wide open in shock, a gruesome sight
even in this dark place. His skin might normally have been as pale
as the snow; now, however, it was charcoal black, likely as a
result of the explosion, though his hands appeared to have been
cleanly cut off, like a butcher had removed them.

'Twas his expression that most terrified
me, for he looked as though he had died viewing the most horrific
crime imaginable. That his eyebrows had been burned clean off only
made his expression that much more frightening.

As terrifying and frightening as this man
appeared, I could not help but peer at his feet, for I hoped he had
some shoes I might be able to borrow. He looked to be about the
same size as I, after all, so even if his shoes were some of those
strange Xeeonite shoes that were more for fashion and comfort than
work and wear, I might possibly be able to wear them anyway.

But to my limitless disappointment, the
soles of this man's shoes had been turned to ash, revealing the
blackened skin of the underside of his feet. Whilst I could still
have taken his shoes off, 'twould have done nothing for me, as
wearing those brogues would have been as good as walking without
any shoes at all.

I knew not who this man was, nor what he
may have believed or what religion he may have practiced. Knowing
these Xeeonites, he likely saw no use for any sort of religion, yet
it did not feel right to me to simply leave him behind. I could not
give him much in the way of a burial, as the floor was metal and I
had no shovel with which to dig.

Thus, I prayed another prayer to the Old
Gods, asking them to guide the soul of this poor man into the next
life. I knew not what happened to Xeeonites when they died, but
perhaps they went to the same place as we Delanians. Or perhaps
Xeeo had its own afterlife for its people.

I ceased thinking about such metaphysical
speculation right away, however, when I heard the sound of claws
scratching against metal. What an awful sound; it made me shudder
with revulsion just listening to it.