The torchlight sputtered in the damp draft of the tunnels and cast dancing shadows against the slime-slicked brickwork. In the flickering orange glow, Wenamor's group huddled together. Silence stretched thin between them.
"He is taking too long," Jerrick grumbled. He paced the narrow space like a caged bear. "Did the old man get lost? Or did the mutants peel him off the pavement by now?"
Laviss sat on an upturned crate. In her arms, the bound boy squirmed relentlessly. He chewed on his gag and twisted his small body in an attempt to loosen the knots.
"Stop it, you little worm," Laviss scolded gently. She looked at the red marks on the child's wrists. "This is cruel. Look at him. He's in pain."
She reached for the knot at his ankles.
"Don't," Wenamor said sharply.
Laviss froze. She glared at the older man. "He's just a child, Wenamor. A frightened child."
"He is a child that sir Zareth tied up for a reason," Wenamor replied firmly. "The Priest didn't seem like a man who enjoys cruelty. If he said to keep the boy bound for our safety, then we keep him bound."
Laviss hesitated. She looked down at the boy's glowing red eyes and the whip-thin tail that lashed angrily against her dress. She sighed and pulled her hand away.
"Fine. But I don't like it."
"I don't like any of this!"
Jerrick slammed the tank of his flamethrower against the wall. The metallic clang echoed dangerously loud in the confined space.
"Why are we sitting here in the dark waiting for a cripple?" Jerrick shouted. "I have a weapon! We have numbers! We should storm the estate and burn anything that stands in our way!"
"Keep your voice down!" Wenamor stepped forward and placed a hand on the burly farmer's shoulder. "If you go up there now, you die. It's that simple."
"I don't care if I die!" Jerrick shoved Wenamor's hand away. Tears welled in his eyes and cut through the grime on his face. "It's been weeks, Wenamor. Two weeks since they took my girls."
Jerrick choked on a sob. "God only knows what those monsters have done to them. Every night I hear them screaming in my dreams. I don't know if they are alive or dead. So don't tell me to be calm. My anger has been burning for days, and I need to let it out!"
The tunnel fell silent. The other men lowered their gazes.
Wenamor leaned against the wall. He looked old, far older than his years.
"I know… My anger burns too, Jerrick. It has burned for months."
He looked Jerrick in the eye. "They took my daughter and my two grandkids three months ago. I stood by and did nothing because I was afraid. I am a coward, Jerrick. If I had your fire, I would have stormed this place long ago. I would have marched into the jaws of hell even if it meant certain death."
"Then let's go!" Jerrick pleaded. "Let's go now!"
"No."
The word came from Laviss. She shifted the struggling boy in her lap and looked at the two men with steely eyes.
"You two are fools," she said flatly. "If Wenamor had acted on his emotions months ago, he would be a corpse in a ditch right now. And if you go up there, Jerrick, you will join him."
"Laviss…" Jerrick started. "I didn't expect this from you."
"Listen to me!" Laviss snapped. "This place is crawling with Vanderznak's abominations. They bend steel. They regenerate limbs. Your flamethrower might tickle them, but it won't stop them."
She paused and took a deep breath. The next words were heavy.
"And you must accept the reality of this place. Even if we find your daughters… even if we find your grandkids… they might not be the people you remember."
Jerrick stiffened. "What are you saying?"
"Look at Zareth." Laviss gestured to the empty tunnel where the Priest had disappeared. "Look at this child in my arms. They were here for less than a day. And look what Vanderznak did to them. Zareth is half-monster. This boy has a tail and eyes like blood."
She looked at Jerrick with pity. "We are here to save them, yes. But do not expect a happy reunion. We might be rescuing monsters."
The truth hung in the damp air like toxic gas. Jerrick's shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of him. He slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands.
Wenamor said nothing. He simply stared into the darkness and prayed that Laviss was wrong.
…
High above the misery of the tunnels, the night air outside the Blackthorn Estate's main gate buzzed with a different kind of tension.
A luxurious carriage, lacquered in black and gold, sat idling on the gravel road. The horses stamped their hooves nervously.
"This is an outrage!"
A man with perfectly coiffed blond hair leaned out of the carriage window. His face was flushed with indignation. This was Luthor Greymoor, the Marquis of Greymoor.
He pointed a finger at the guard station.
"Open this gate immediately! Do you have any idea who I am?"
The guard standing on the other side of the iron bars did not look impressed. He was a hulking brute with patches of grey fur on his neck and a rifle slung over his shoulder. He smelled of wet dog and unwashed leather.
"I am the Marquis of Greymoor!" Luthor shouted. "I am an expected guest! Carl Blackthorn himself invited me! And you, you lowlife barbarian, dare to keep me waiting?"
Inside the carriage, three other passengers murmured their assent. A slim, elegant woman fanned herself rapidly. Beside her sat another noble couple; the man was portly and red-faced, while his wife looked ready to faint from the sheer indignity of it all.
"Tell him, Luthor," the portly man grumbled. "After we travelled all this way on these dreadful roads? To be turned back like common peddlers? It is unacceptable."
Luthor turned back to the guard. "You hear that? Open the gate!"
The guard picked his teeth with a dirty fingernail. He didn't flinch. He grunted.
"Estate is under strict lockdown. Orders from the top. Until the issue is resolved, no one comes in. No one goes out."
"Issue?" Luthor sputtered. "I don't care about your internal squabbles! Does Lord Blackthorn know I am here? Get him out here this instant! Just who does he take us for?"
The guard shifted his stance. He rested his hand on the bolt of his rifle.
"I already sent a runner to Lord Carl. If he wants to come out and greet you, fine. But until he gives the order, the gate stays shut. You wait."
Luthor stared at the man. To be spoken to in such a manner by a creature that looked like it belonged in a kennel was too much.
THUMP!
Luthor punched the velvet-lined wall of the carriage.
"Damn it!" he cursed. "Insolent cur!"
"Luthor, darling, please," his wife whispered and placed a hand on his arm. "Mind your blood pressure. You know what the doctor said."
"He's treating us like beggars!" Luthor raged. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. "Carl Blackthorn will hear about this. I will have this guard flogged in the town square."
The portly man nodded in agreement. "He will pay for this humiliation. We are nobility!"
The four of them sat in the plush interior and stewed in their impotent fury. Outside, the mutant guard turned his back on them and stared beyond the gate where the real trouble was brewing.