Chapter IV: The Stables

Lamp light flickered across the slimy walls leading towards the feralite stables. Kiki’s fur stood on end as she stalked along slowly, her teeth gritted tight as she sniffed the air fearfully. Blackheart marched ahead of his faithful pet, Adelia nervously bringing up the rear. Their footsteps squished through the webbing which had grown rampantly throughout the tunnels. “Only a little way before we reach the stables,” Blackheart whispered. “Do you think he’ll follow us?”

Adelia looked back into the unending darkness behind her. “Let’s not think about that. If he does, he does.”

Blackheart snorted, “That’s easy for you to say, he needs you alive. I’m expendable.” His eyes shot to the wall as a small cloud of dust trickled to the floor. He cautiously drew his sword and adjusted the focus lens on his lamp to shine on the wall. There was nothing there except webbing. He eyed the darkness ahead reluctantly and continued walking. Kiki’s breath blew against his leg as she tried to shield her head from anything that might attack her. Blackheart eyed the cowardly beast, “I see where your loyalties lie,” he whispered.

“Look,” whispered Adelia, her eyes still focused forwards.

Blackheart turned back to see the gates to the stables. They used to stand tall and powerful, in case any feralites escaped their pens. Now they were shattered to pieces and the thick webs of the Garmut shrub held the remaining pieces together. Blackheart marched forward, his sword gripped tight in his right hand. A few steps further along the path and they heard the crunch of stomped webbing behind them. The three turned back in unison to see the hooded assassin marching towards them, his eyes filled with a mixture of dread and determination.

“I wouldn’t take another step,” Blackheart said in a hushed but forceful tone.

The hooded assassin reached into his cloak and drew a crossbow which he brandished. “Oh really? Well if you must know, I don’t care what you think,” the assassin muttered. “Behind me is a rustling pile of a very angry sand,” the assassin stopped his sentence, half ashamed that he was admitting being afraid of dirt. “Well, it’s not normal sand that is, and if it catches us before I catch you, we’re all dead. So I say that the best strategy right now, for all of us, is to listen to me and keep moving.” The assassin waved his crossbow towards the rubble of the stables and the three began to march as the assassin shot a glance over his shoulder and dashed after them.

Blackheart made quick work of the webbing lining the gate, hacking through it with ease. The entire stable seemed to rustle with discontent at this, but the four paid no attention. What was behind them, they all agreed, was a worse fate by far. Blackheart marched through, waving the lantern back and forth, looking for the garms that would no doubt we wandering about.

Adelia followed the beam of light attentively. She couldn’t believe she had gotten into this much trouble in one night. She had been doing so well, too. But now she was in too deep, with an assassin, a thief, a wild beast, and several other dangers lurking too near for comfort. Her foot struck something and she looked down.

And then she screamed.