The big Guardian shrugged. “Just the usual. Rats, spiders, salamanders, maybe some larger-than-normal crabs-”
Phaelan stopped looking down the hole and stared at Vegard. “Define ‘larger.’ ”
“Just Guardian rumors,” Vegard assured him. “Ruben was coming off leave and a three-day drunk when he said he saw it, so we’ve never put much stock in that one.”
Phaelan didn’t bat an eye. “You didn’t answer my question.”
The big Guardian sighed. “Supposedly there’s some kind of crablike thing with pinchers the size of your head running around down there-at least in the ‘down there’ that’s closest to the waterfront.”
“Which coincidentally is exactly where we are.” My cousin did not look amused, and Uncle Ryn’s boys had become noticeably less thrilled with our choice of routes.
“Captain, it was dark and Ruben was wasted,” Vegard assured him.
“I’ve been wasted and seen plenty of things that turned out to be real,” muttered one of the elven pirates.
Time to put a stop to this. I slapped Phaelan on the shoulder. “We’ll just refill one of our water skins with melted butter and we’ll be good to go. You like seafood.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like seafood that likes me.”
He did have a point, but I chose to ignore it. I jerked the strap tighter that secured my two new short swords across my back. Uncle Ryn had replaced the ones I’d stuck up the demon’s nose. I pushed the crab out of my mind, prodigious pinchers and all. Of today’s problems, carnivorous crustaceans ranked way down on my list of worries.
Vegard and I made a pair of lightglobes and sent them through the trapdoor and into the tunnel; their pale blue light illuminated walls of packed earth that didn’t look all that stable. Vegard went down first, then the crewmen. I followed with Phaelan.
As I climbed down, the rickety wooden ladder creaked, but held. I looked around. Wooden beams supported a packed-earth tunnel. The beams had seen better days. Some had fallen away altogether leaving no visible means of support.
I shone my lightglobe down the tunnel a few yards. “I thought all the tunnels were natural-and rock.”
“Most of them are,” Vegard replied with a shrug. “Some of them aren’t.”
I had a spell in mind should this particular tunnel pick sometime in the immediate future to collapse. Considering recent events, I thought it prudent to be prepared.
“I should lead,” I told Vegard.
“That wouldn’t be wise, ma’am. I should go first.”
“Then I would have to bring up the rear, because these men are experts with steel. They don’t have enough magic between them to light a candle, let alone torch a demon-or whatever might come running at us. And, if I bring up the rear, you can’t keep an eye on me-and I know you want to do that. So, do you want to cover our backs, or spend half your time looking back at me?”
The Guardian scowled. “You lead.”
I turned to one of Ryn’s men, a young elf named Galen. “I want the most direct way to the entertainment district, no scenic routes.”
“Understood, Miss Benares.” He flashed a nervous grin.
“We know the quickest way to the best bars, including Sirens.” He looked down the dark tunnel and swallowed. “We just didn’t know there was anything down here.”
“Hopefully you won’t find out anything different this time. And if you do hear pinchers clicking, just walk faster.”
“That goes without saying.”
“Good.” I sent my lightglobe ahead of us. “Let’s go. And just tell me where to turn.”
The tunnel was damp, moldy, and had things that slithered and scurried into the dark ahead of our lights. But thankfully, there was no clicking or clacking. However, a series of white lines ran along the walls at various heights. Salt. I knew what that meant. We were close enough to the harbor that a storm or exceptionally high tide would put where we were under water. I’d just add drowning to my worry list under giant crabs.
Time was next to impossible to keep up with underground. I didn’t know how long we’d been down here, but it’d been long enough for me. I was ready to see the sky or the inside of Sirens, anything but tons of rock and packed dirt looming only a couple of inches above my head. Vegard had to walk in a perpetual hunch; I knew he was ready to get out of here.
The tunnel ended abruptly in a small chamber. It didn’t end so much as give us five more choices of tunnels. Though it did give Vegard a chance to stand up straight, which he did gratefully. While he cracked his spine and rolled his neck, I surveyed our options.
“Okay, Galen, where are we now, and which way do we go?”
“We’re under the center of town, near the college campus.”
“And which way?”
“Sirens and the other higher-class establishments are on Rathdowne Street. That would be down the tunnel to our left.”
“Where does it come out?” I asked.
“It forks after a hundred yards or so. One tunnel comes out in a drainage pipe that runs under Rathdowne Street, the other one dead-ends at a door.”
Phaelan and I exchanged hopeful glances.
“The door, what’s it look like?” I asked.
“About this tall,” Galen held his hand to the middle of his chest. “Looks like solid iron.”
“Is there a knob or handle?”
Galen thought for a moment then shook his head. “Nothing. Not even a key hole.”
Last time Phaelan and I had been down here, we’d left Sirens by a door that had a handle on one side, but not the other. It hadn’t been a problem for us; we needed to get to the elven embassy, not back into Sirens. Tam didn’t need a handle, knob, or key to open his basement door; he’d use magic. I was sure he kept it locked and warded. Tam had arranged it so that his wards in his nightclub in Mermeia always let me in. I’d find out soon enough if these wards liked me, too. Get there first, Raine. One problem at a time.
I smiled. “Things are going right. That’s the place. Let’s-”
Our lightglobes died, leaving us in the pitch dark.
Crap. Me and my big mouth.
“No one move,” Vegard ordered, keeping his voice to the barest minimum to be heard.
I felt him try to conjure another lightglobe. Not one flicker.
I tried the same. Nothing.
“Galen, do you have a torch?” Phaelan kept his voice calm.
“Yes, Captain. We all do.” He sounded scared to death.
“Get them lit. Now.”
I heard flints striking. Not one spark.
Something was down here with us and getting closer, moving at a steady pace, as if it had all the time in the world. It negated magic, smothered fire, and sure as hell wasn’t a crab. Then the bottom dropped out of the temperature, and I knew what was down here with us. It did have all the time in the world.
Death was eternal-and so were its Reapers.
I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face let alone the frost from my breath, but I could feel it. I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, and the long muscles of my back convulsed with cold, the violence of it sending a shuddering spike of pain through my entire body.
Death sent Reapers to collect the dead and the dying. I’d never seen a Reaper, but then I’d never been dying. Battlefields supposedly swarmed with them.
It flowed over us, and around us-but not through us. We were the living.
A Reaper sought the dead.
I swallowed. “Vegard?”
“I know.” His voice was the barest whisper.
“Where?”
“All around us.”
Not the answer I wanted. One of the elves shifted, ready to run, his terror a tangible thing in the dark. Another elf’s teeth chattered with cold, fear, or both.
“Don’t run.” Vegard’s voice was low and commanding.
“Don’t even move. It will pass us by. It hunts not for us.” His words were oddly formal and awed. As a Guardian, Vegard would have done more than his share of time on battlefields. No doubt he’d seen Reapers in action.