It grated against Verdan’s nerves to be addressed as a ‘Lord Sorcerer’, not only because he was a Wizard, but because it reeked of the worst Sect practices that he’d become aware of.

  As before, though, he swallowed his displeasure and simply nodded. “Could you have someone take the Disciple to the healers while we head to the Elder?”

  “If I may, Lord Sorcerer,” the retainer who’d been their guide spoke up with a surprisingly strong voice. “I will take him. He is my charge, and his health is my responsibility.”

  Verdan nodded. “Very well, I see no issue there. I’d ask the same of you that I did of everyone else, however.”

  “Of course, Lord Sorcerer,” the retainer said with a formal nod. “I will keep what I’ve seen and heard to myself, as you’ve asked.”

  Verdan cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable with this kind of deference. It felt unearned, and left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Perhaps we should head for the Elder?” Kai said into the silence, prompting Hedda to pass over the Sorcerer, who looked like he was slowly coming around.

  Verdan had no desire to waste time discussing all this again, so he hurried things along as they left the guardpost. The sooner they got to Vanarr, the better.

  The passage leading out from the guardpost was larger than the first, which Cullan was particularly pleased about, and quickly branched off into a small network of tunnels. Lanterns hung intermittently on the walls, lighting their path, so Verdan dismissed his spell to save the Aether.

  “How big is it down here?” Verdan asked their new guide as he led them down one of the turnings.

  “These are old shelters from past Risings, so there’s enough space for most of the city if needed,” the guard said, his voice trailing off as his expression tightened. “We are barely at half capacity.”

  “We were told there was an evacuation,” Verdan said softly, wondering just how bad things had been here.

  “There was, and those who couldn’t leave in time were brought here,” the guard said as he led them into a cavernous chamber. It was easily four or five times the size of Verdan’s estate back in Hobson’s Point, but most of its size came from its depth.

  They’d emerged onto what seemed to be the top layer of a large crossroads, which had a large excavated space in the centre that was crisscrossed with pathways between other passages.

  Verdan stopped and stared for a long moment, realising that when the guard had said this place could hold most of the city, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

  This room alone was an incredible investment in labour, whether magical or mundane, which made the easy access of that hidden tunnel all the stranger.

  No doubt its secret nature was its main defence, but after that the only thing they’d seen was a makeshift barricade and a handful of people.

  The idea of the bloodshed that would follow if any Cyth got down here sent a shiver down Verdan’s spine.

  “This way, we need to cross over and then head down a floor,” their guide said, stepping out onto a bridge that spanned the open space.

  Verdan eyed the bridge, looking for any sign of instability, but it seemed naturally formed. That meant magic, either to build the bridge or carve out the space, and hopefully also meant it was safe to use.

  “I might wait here,” Cullan said, eyeing the bridge with concern. “It might be best if your new pet does the same.”

  “You might have a point,” Verdan said, ordering the construct to wait by the wall where it would be out of the way. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

  “Me?” Cullan pointed at himself with an exaggerated look of surprise before chuckling and waving for them to carry on. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Verdan rolled his eyes at the big man but left it at that, instead turning to follow their guide across the arching bridge that spanned the top layer of the hub.

  The bridge had a low wall along the edge for safety, but it was far from the most secure Verdan had felt, and he let out a sigh as they got to the far side.

  “Don’t worry, you get used to it,” the guard said, flashing Verdan a crooked smile before leading them over to a set of spiral stairs that led down to the next layer.

  As they descended and ventured further into the tunnels, they started to see more people moving around. Many were civilians sheltering from the threat above, but Verdan also spotted groups of alliance fighters and local guards.

  Many bore bandages or the signs of partially healed injuries, some of which were bad enough that he would have balked at assigning them to patrols.

  If those walking around were in this shape, it boded poorly for the level of care available. The healers under Silver’s command would have their work cut out for them when they got here.

  Eventually, the guard brought them to a large chamber that was bustling with Sorcerers, retainers and guards. A number of other tunnels led off from the room, and Verdan got the impression that this was the heart of the ongoing resistance to the Cyth.

  “The Elder will be in the centre of it all,” their guide said, pointing out a dense cluster of people in the middle of the room. “It looks like something’s going on, so you might need to wait a few minutes.”

  “Not a problem. Thank you for your help,” Verdan said, nodding to the guard before moving closer to that central group.

  Without Cullan and Verdan’s construct, they weren’t quite as visually out of place as before, but they didn’t exactly blend in either. None of them wore Sect colours, and Macha’s wild and feathered hairstyle was far from normal for a Sorcerer.

  A Defiant Flame Sorcerer at the edge of the group saw them approaching and glanced over briefly before turning back with a shocked expression. “Wizard Blacke?”

  Verdan didn’t recognise him, but then he supposed that he was somewhat more memorable for the Defiant Flame Sect.

  “Greetings, we’re here to speak with the Elder,” Verdan said, pitching his voice to carry as he came to a halt and planted the end of his staff firmly down on the stone with a heavy thud.

  The general clamour of the room faded, and the tight group in front of them dispersed to reveal a large chair and a stone table with a map pinned in place.

  A Steel Custodian stood by the chair, her hand on the hilt of a sword as she ran her gaze over their group. After a moment, she nodded and leaned down to whoever was in the chair before beckoning them forward.

  Taking the invitation, Verdan walked through the group to the table, finally laying eyes on the Elder as he did.

  Elder Vanarr was a tall, grey-haired man with a close-cut beard, a scarred face and a missing right ear. That much hadn’t changed.

  Last time Verdan had seen him, the Elder had been wearing a detailed prosthetic in place of his right hand and had been a healthy, powerful man.

  The man sat in the chair before him, though, was little more than a shadow of the man he’d last seen. The prosthetic was gone and the powerful build was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by sunken cheeks, hooded eyes and an aura of weariness.

  “Wizard Blacke,” Vanarr said in a raspy voice, lifting his hand in greeting as he motioned for them to come closer. “I hope your presence here is good news?”

  Vanarr’s voice grew faint as he spoke, ending in little more than a whisper that echoed through the now silent chamber.

  “I hope it does, but it can wait a few moments. May I be blunt?”

  “I don’t know how I would stop you,” Vanarr said with a thin chuckle that ended in a wet cough which left blood on his hand.

  “You’re in no shape to be holding a meeting. Why are you here and not recuperating? For that matter, what happened to you?”

  The Steel Custodian standing by Vanarr’s side cleared her throat and gave Vanarr a pointed look, but the Elder waved aside her silent recrimination and focused on Verdan.

  “I fought the Cyth Scerrd leading the Host. It was powerful, far beyond what I expected, and used my desire to protect my people against me. In blocking an attack that would have killed others, it was able to wound me severely. I was able to retreat, but nothing we’ve done has been able to heal the wound.” Vanarr paused to cough once more before baring his bloodied teeth in a rictus grin. “I decided I would rather die doing my job than in my sleep.”

  “May I examine you?” Verdan asked, even as he reached out to do what examinations he could at a distance. “This looks like rapid corruption, which I’ve had experience with.”

  While he kept his tone confident, Verdan was more worried internally. He could sense no Malfease around the Elder, which was surprising. He’d have expected the wound to be festering with abyssal energy to have caused this amount of change.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I know that I’m dying,” Vanarr said with a slight shrug. “We should focus on what matters right now. I have enough strength to continue.”

  The Sorcerer at the Elder’s side frowned, but said nothing. Verdan, however, wasn’t going to let the Elder throw aside his chance of healing regardless of how noble he was trying to be.

  Eyeing the surrounding people and how uncomfortable they were with the situation, Verdan cleared his throat to gather their attention.

  “Is there anyone who would rather discuss our next plans rather than giving me ten minutes to attempt to help the Elder?” Verdan slowly looked them over, making his thoughts clear on the matter. After a long few beats of silence, he turned back to Vanarr. “My apologies, Elder. It seems you’ve been outvoted.”