Before I could summon up the energy to protest Quillion made a gesture and the floor beneath me disappeared and I found myself tumbling down into darkness.
EIGHT
I hadn't slept or lost consciousness since my resurrection, but I have no memory of my fall ending. One moment I was plunging through darkness, hands scrabbling to find some kind of purchase without success, and the next I was laying on a hard surface. I assumed I'd hit and not felt the impact – though I should've been aware of it at least – but when I sat up I discovered that none of my bones were broken. So either the fall hadn't been as long as it had seemed or some sort of magic was at work here. Whichever the case my body was still intact, and since I'd only recently gotten it back, I was glad I hadn't broken it.
I was surrounded by darkness and silence and part of me wanted to remain there, quiet and unmoving, in the hope that whoever or whatever inhabited this place might not notice me if I could avoid drawing attention to myself. But the passive approach has never sat well with me, even when it's the smart way to go. Especially then. So I stood up and called out into the darkness.
"This really isn't much of a welcome. You could do a little more to make a guy feel at home, you know."
No response.
I'd heard plenty of rumors about Tenebrus over the years, but I'd never spoken to anyone who'd actually been there. It was reputed to be a nightmarish place – even by Nekropolis's standards – and escape was impossible. Or so the stories went. I'd imagined it would be a more savage version of an earthly prison, but now that I was actually here, I began to wonder if this was it, if the darkness, silence and solitude were punishments in and of themselves. Was every inmate of Tenebrus in the same situation as I was, standing alone in the dark as minutes became hours then days, weeks, months, years… The thought was terrifying to me, a punishment far worse than anything I could've imagined. If this was to be my fate for a crime I didn't commit I wished Quillion had used his powers to destroy me back in the Inquisitory and been done with it.
But then I heard the first faint stirrings of sound, a soft grating of metal sliding against a hard surface. I started to turn toward the sound, steeling myself for the possibility of an attack. But before I could do anything to defend myself – and really, what could I have done? – I heard a loud jangling of chains and I sensed something streaking toward me out of the darkness. Metal clamped around my wrists and my arms were yanked over my head. I was pulled upward until my feet dangled in the air and then it stopped. Manacles on chains, I realized, hanging down from the ceiling. They'd been lying coiled on the floor like a pair of iron snakes, waiting to lash out and grab hold of the newest inmate.
So not only was I destined to spend my time in Tenebrus swaddled in dark silence it seemed I wasn't going to be permitted to move about either.
Great.
I don't know how long I hung there. Long enough to regret the fact that I can't sleep and long enough to give up any notion that I might be able to escape on my own. I'd have happily chewed off my own hands to get down, but since I couldn't reach them…
Eventually I became aware of a pair of flickering glows ahead of me out in the darkness. Someone – maybe a pair of someones – was approaching, carrying a light of some kind. As whoever it was came nearer, I began to be able to make out my surroundings. I was in a cell whose bars were made of long lengths of bones, detached arms clutching hold of each other with skeletal fingers. The walls and ceiling curved around and above me, formed from a grayish substance that looked more like diseased flesh than stone. Rib-like protrusions extended from the walls, which were reinforced by long curving spinal columns. The flesh walls expanded and contracted as I watched, as if I were trapped inside the pulsating organ of some gigantic beast. I also saw that I wasn't alone in the cell. Hanging behind me were a pair of skeletons, neither of them human, though I couldn't guess their species from looking at them. Like me, they hung from a pair of manacles on the ends of chains extending downward from the flesh ceiling. Unlike me, they were far from recent arrivals, a fact which I freely admit took no great effort to deduce.
As I turned my attention back to whoever was approaching, a voice came from behind me.
"This isn't good."
A second voice added, "If that's who we think it is, you're going to wish you were left alone to rot in here with us."
I glanced back over my shoulder at the skeletal duo.
"Why didn't you two say anything when I called out earlier?" I was irritated. If I'd known I shared a cell with a couple talking skeletons I could've been pumping them for information the entire time instead of just hanging there, bored out of my mind.
"We didn't want to scare you," the first skeleton said.
"We figured we'd give you a few weeks to settle in before introducing ourselves. Give you a chance to acclimate a bit."
"Get your prison legs, so to speak," the second one added.
"Very considerate of you," I muttered.
"Thinking nothing of it," Skeleton Number One said, sounding pleased with itself.
I promptly forgot all about the ossified idiots as the light drew close enough for me to begin making out the features of the new arrivals. There were three of them, two men and a woman, the former walking on either side of the latter.
The males were of a type: eight feet tall, muscular and brown-skinned, naked save for small tan loin cloths that left little doubt as to their gender. The most striking detail about the men was that each had a jackal's head resting atop his powerful broad shoulders. Their eyes shone with human intelligence, but as they approached my cell, canine lips drew back from sharp teeth in feral snarls. Both creatures held golden spears whose points glowed with warm yellow light – a combination weapon and torch. I wondered what would happen if that glowing spearpoint was thrust into my undead flesh and I made a mental note to myself to avoid pissing off the jackalheads if at all possible. But far more intimidating than the guards was the woman who walked between them. She was Keket, ancient Egyptian sorceress, demilord and overseer of Tenebrus.
Tall and slender she carried herself with regal bearing. Her body was wrapped in winding strips of grayish cloth and a long dark blue cape trailed behind her. Her face was concealed behind a golden mask of finely wrought feminine features and though the mask's eyes were made of solid metal, I had the impression that she could see through them – or perhaps somehow with them.
First Victor Baron, then Quillion, and now Keket. I was getting to meet a lot of dignitaries lately. I might've thought I was coming up in the world if my current situation hadn't demonstrated the exact opposite.
Keket and the guards stopped when they reached my cell door.
"Matthew Richter, welcome to Tenebrus."
Keket's voice was soft as the whisper of a snake sliding through grass, but I had no trouble making out every word.
I'd seen her once before, in the Nightspire during the last Renewal Ceremony, but it hadn't been an occasion for idle chat and we'd never spoken before.
"Do you always personally greet the new arrivals?" I asked. "Or am I just special?"
It was impossible to read Keket's expression behind her mask, but when she spoke, her tone was one of amusement.
"When Quillion informed me that the savior of Nekropolis would be joining us, I simply had to come welcome you in person. I do so enjoy seeing the high and mighty brought down low. It's one of my favorite parts of the job."
"Still bitter because Dis didn't choose you to be one of the five Darklords? You really ought to consider getting some therapy for that."
Again I couldn't see her expression but I could feel the anger rolling off of her as if it were a physical force. My skeletal cellmates must've felt it too for they let out frightened moans.