Dreams of Fire by Davide Mana

Author:Davide Mana [Mana, Davide]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Media Tie-In, Fantasy, Epic, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781839082443
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2023-08-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Ghosts

At the edge of the light cast by the hybrids’ torches, a tall and narrow door led to a narrower ledge and then to a staircase descending in the dark.

Down this staircase went Archmage Quellen and behind him, stepping carefully not to cause any noise, Cyra followed.

She had come to the conclusion that either Brockton the Map Maker was a better liar than anyone she had ever known, or he really had no interest in the dwarven treasures of lore supposedly buried under the lost cities of the Verdant Ring.

Quellen, on the other hand, clearly had such an interest.

So, when the elf had silently walked out of their quarters, she had thought it might be interesting to follow him. She had watched him use one of his flying pebbles to make a sound in a side corridors, distracting one of the sentinels long enough for him to sneak past, but she had kept him in sight. There was a faint luminescence about him, a clear sign the old story claiming elves could see in the dark was not completely true.

His long tunic brushed the floor as he circled a corner of the staircase. Cyra listened for a moment, just making out the sound of the mage’s steps. Then she followed, one hand brushing against the wall, the other on her sword hilt. Soon, a cold light reached her and she passed a crystal as large as her fist set into the wall, which cast an eerie light on the steps.

She reached out to touch it. It was cold.

She went on. More crystals lit her descent and dark tracts alternated with bright ones as she continued deeper. At this point she could no longer hear Quellen’s footsteps, and she figured she must now be at least fifty feet beneath the level the hybrids occupied. The deeper she went, the warmer and more humid the air became. And the more she thought this had been a bad idea.

The hybrids would catch her, and that would mean trouble. Trouble, she believed, from which neither Brockton nor Vaerix would be able to pull her out. But she wanted to know what the elf was doing and what he might discover.

Suddenly she was on level ground, debris crunching under her feet. A corridor going left and right was before her. No lights to the right, a faint glow to the left.

Cyra cursed and chose left.

There was a sharp turn after five steps, and one of the light rocks emitted a soft brightness that briefly blinded her after her time in utter darkness. The corridor did not go farther than fifteen steps, a solid wall of rubble marking its end. Cyra frowned and turned.

Quellen was there, holding one of his small stones. “Found something interesting?” he asked in a low voice.

“You should not go out alone like this,” she snapped, thinking quickly.

He arched his eyebrows. “And you are here to protect me?”

“To bring you back, actually.”

“You took your time. You have been following me for quite a while.

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