Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
At first we move in silence, but as the tunnel continues and the sounds of crawling, scuffling, and the occasional curse from Torin as some rock or root further rips at his once fine clothing become a little claustrophobic, conversation ensues.
“Any idea where this comes out?” Avel asks the question from behind me.
“I knew once,” Torin says over his shoulder. “But I forgot.”
“Do you remember anything of importance, whelp?”
“I’m not a whelpling. I’m of age. That’s why you got your hands on me, remember, grandfather?”
I let out a laugh at Torin’s easy cheek. He is well protected right now, having earned Avel’s favor first in saving me, and then in helping him defeat the outlaws who would have happily killed us all.
“Grandfather, is it?” Avel snorts. “I am not that old.”
“You talk like an old man, act like an old man…” I join in the fun a little.
“Get going, human. We are wasting time in the dark.”
He swats at me as best he can, barely making contact with me, but I get the idea and keep moving. I want to escape the darkness and come out into the light again. I want to see Avel spread his wings, and I want to crawl into his arms.
We keep going. Keep crawling. Until…
“Ow. I think I found the end,” Torin says. There’s a square outline of light in front, the only indicator that we’ve reached what I really hope is the end of the tunnel. I need to see things again. I need to stretch my limbs and experience freedom. Also, my ribs are fucking killing me.
“I think you need to press on this panel…” He mumbles, messing with the metal obstacle until POP! CLATTER! CRASH! the whole thing bursts open, and we are suffused in an unnaturally blueish-white kind of light that sucks the color out of everything.
Pushing forward and clambering out of the tunnel, we find ourselves inside a room covered in panels similar to the one we just moved. It is large and empty, with a vault-type door on one wall.
Torin lets out a little laugh. “Oh. Okay. I remember why this tunnel was dug now.”
“You drug-addled little whelp,” Avel growls. “Look at this!”
I look around and see nothing at all. Maybe some dust in the corners. This seems like a place that’s been sealed up for a very long time, but still has some airflow coming in through ducts in the ceiling. That’s fortunate, or we’d have been asphyxiated in that tunnel for sure.
“What’s the problem with where we are?” I have to ask, as nobody seems inclined to explain anything.
“We’re in the alpha’s reserve. Basically, the bank that services the entire city and holds the generational wealth of legions of alphas. This is where the ores that underlie our currencies are held.”
“But there’s nothing here.”
“That is the problem,” Avel says grimly.
“Another problem,” Torin adds, “is that there’s no way out of here. It’s a dead end. And they’ll come and find us here soon enough once they make their way through the tunnel. You know?”
“I do know,” Avel snarls.
Avel
What I do not know is how exactly it is that things keep going from bad to much, much worse.
There should be thousands of ore bars here. There’s nothing. The place is pristine. My first thought is to imagine how Thorn’s smugness will dissipate when he discovers he’s been robbed blind right under his nose by Wrath.
But there are more important things to consider. My poor mate is standing there looking pale and scared and sore. I know she needs comfort and medical treatment. I know we all do. Torin has wounds all over him and so do I. All of us are now covered in a layer of dirt from the tunnel we just went through. I reach out, extending my wing around her, careful not to touch her, but also careful to give her some kind of comfort. There is much I need to say to her, but now is not the time.
Torin, meanwhile, marches right up to the vault door, curls his hands into fists and starts banging on the plating next to it. Every pounding motion of his fists leaves a scaled bloody print on the wall, but he does not seem to care.
“HELP!” He shouts. “WE’RE STUCK!”
That is actually the most sensible thing he has ever done. The reserve is guarded. Technically. It’s mostly a performative guard, because it has long been assumed that the alpha’s reserve is impenetrable. But there still should be someone in the building. Several someones, actually.
It takes a little while, but eventually there are sounds from the other side of the impenetrable vault door.
“HEY!” Torin yowls. “IN HERE! IN THE VAULT!”
“Are you in the vault?” The voice that comes back to us through the plating is muffled, but still clearly incredulous.