The Silver Catacombs: Elfblood Trilogy, #2

The Silver Catacombs

Copyright © 2016 Kyra Dune

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All rights reserved under International Copyright Conventions.  Published in the United States by Shadow Portal Books, a division of Shadow Portal Productions, USA.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or taping, or by any information storing or retrieval system, without written permission from Kyra Dune.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Even resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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CHAPTER ONE

Summer was fading into fall, bringing a hint of winter’s chill to the nights and early mornings. Charlie lay with his head rested on his backpack, watching the gray sky shading toward the golden hues of dawn. The alley in which he’d spent the night was still and silent, except for the soft snores of Spree, who was curled up on his chest.

He hated to wake the sprite, but he was stiff from sleeping on the hard ground. Besides, it was never a good idea to stay in one place for too long, and he was hungry. Spree? He gently prodded her with his finger.

The sprite stirred with a sigh and propped her head up on her slender hands. Her almond-shaped brown eyes regarded him wearily. What you need, Charlie?

It’s time to get up.

Spree stood and stretched, flexing her translucent wings. Is hardly sun in sky.

I know. But this isn’t like sleeping in a tree or a gully somewhere. We’re in the city now and someone might see us. They’d been avoiding populated areas as much as possible on their trek across Angland, using Spree’s corridor of non light whenever they could. But Spree could only carry another person that way for so long before her magic wore out and so Charlie had spent part of the journey on foot.

Three days past, they had used the corridor to bypass the checkpoint at the border and entered the country of Kiloreen, ancestral home of the elves. From here on out, Charlie must travel by foot alone, for he was looking for something and he didn’t want to take the chance of missing it by using the corridor. There was a map in his pocket which was supposed to lead him to his destination, if only he could figure out how to use it.

Once Spree had hopped off his chest, Charlie took the canteen out of his backpack. He screwed off the lid, filled it with water, and handed it to Spree, then drank what was left himself. They would need more water and soon, though he wasn’t sure where to get it in a city.

Is more food in back sack? Spree asked.

Charlie looked inside the backpack, trying not to smile. One would think that someone who’d spent more than a hundred and twenty years living in the heating ducts of a school would have a clearer grasp of the language, but Spree persisted in mangling it. Charlie’s few attempts at correcting Spree had done nothing but agitate her, he’d long since given up.

No, he said, closing the backpack. You better go see what you can scrounge up. And bring back real food this time, not cookies.

Spree made a face, stuck out her tongue, and went invisible. Charlie sighed. They’d mostly been living off whatever the land had to offer, which meant Charlie had eaten more fruit in the last two weeks than he had in his entire life, not to mention grass, flowers, and bugs. None of this bothered Spree, who, despite her preoccupation with sweets, seemed willing to eat anything, but for Charlie it had been something of an adjustment.

Charlie leaned his head back against the brick building. He found himself missing the home where he’d spent the last seven years of his life. At least there he had three meals a day and real bed on which to sleep. This whole thing was like one long nightmare from which he could not wake. Sometimes, he wished he’d never met Lily, never heard of the Silver Catacombs, then he would still be with Grant and the others, instead of on this endless quest.

Well, no time to dawdle in this alley wallowing in misery, he needed to move. He had no worries about leaving this spot without Spree. She could always find him. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the silver disk and stared down at it for the hundredth time. He traced a finger over the strange symbols etched blackly into the disk. He thought they were words, but could find no one capable of reading them.

In the center of the disk was a small, white magestone. Charlie concentrated on it, calling up his magic, which he was sure was the key to unlocking the map. The stone shimmered faintly, the air above it rippling, only to fade away again. Charlie muttered a curse, and stuffed the disk back into his pocket.

The map and the key was what Lily had called the disk. But she had known no better than he how to operate it.

Charlie headed for the street and hoped there were no constables about who might be inclined to stop him. He had no papers, if he was caught they would take him straight to jail. Once they got a look at his record and saw elfblood in bold red letters, he would be finished.

As Charlie stepped out of the alley, someone came running around the corner and barreled directly into him. They went down in a tangled heap and Charlie found himself looking into a pair of bright blue eyes surrounded by long lashes.

Idiot, the girl muttered, pushing herself to her feet. Don’t you watch where you’re going?

Charlie, who was a bit dazed from having hit his head on the asphalt, stared stupidly up at her. She was tall and trim, with unruly black curls, highlighted purple, falling across her shoulders. She was dressed all in black; jeans, tank top, boots with chains, and fingerless gloves. A silver belt circled her narrow waist.

Charlie thought she was a little older than he was, maybe sixteen, judging by her shape, which

wasn’t bad to look at even from where he was lying on the ground. The sound of running feet came from the side street. The girl glared down at Charlie. You didn’t see me. She darted down the alley and hid behind the nearest dumpster, which was overflowing with foul-smelling refuse.

Charlie managed to get himself into a seated position before two men came around the corner. He knew by their blue uniforms that they were town constables, and a cold fear cramped his guts.

The fiery dragon in Charlie’s mind leapt to the defense, the magic eager to take control. Charlie mentally grabbed hold of the chains that had once bound the beast in the darkest depths of his mind and pulled back. Hoping to at least keep it from going for the kill.

He was on his feet before the men even knew he was there. With a quick kick, he hit the first constable in the chest and heard something snap as the man fell backward. The second constable went for the pistol holstered at his side, but he wasn’t half fast enough. Even as his hand closed around the leather grip, Charlie’s leg came around in a roundhouse kick that caught the man on the side of the head. He spun and fell face first onto the ground.

Magic rushed through Charlie’s veins, eager for the kill. But he held it back, forcing the dragon to retreat. Once it was safely put down, Charlie knelt beside the first man. The man’s face was pale, his breath short and raspy. Charlie hadn’t allowed the full force of his magic to come through, but he had still broken several of the man’s ribs and judging by his breathing, one of them had likely punctured a lung. The second man was unconscious and bleeding, but his heartbeat was steady enough.

There was no one else on the street so early in the morning. Charlie had chosen this place because it seemed mostly deserted, though he could hear traffic from somewhere on the other

side of the brick buildings. He was torn. Should he try to find help for these men and endanger himself, or leave them and hope some passerby would find them before they died?

How did you do that?

Charlie turned at the sound of the girl’s voice behind him. Her eyes were wide with amazement. He stood. I . . . uh . . . He couldn’t tell the truth and reveal what he was. But he never had been good at lying. Uh . . .

Uh . . . she mimicked him with cruel accuracy. What’s the matter? You can fight, but you can’t talk?

I can talk, Charlie said, blushing furiously. I just don’t like answering questions, that’s all.

She shrugged. Suit yourself. My name’s Raven, and I guess I owe you something for taking care of these two for me. She glanced at the men. Although, they aren’t dead.

My name’s Charlie, and I don’t kill people if I don’t have too. In fact, I’d like to get them some help before they do die.

Raven eyed him with a frown, then shrugged again. A conscience can be a dangerous thing, but if you insist. She stepped around him and knelt beside the first man, who watched her with a mixture of fear and pain in his eyes.

There was a small, black box on his belt, which looked to Charlie to be very similar to the coms the guards had used back at the prison camp. Raven pressed a small red button on the side of the box. There. This place will be swarming with constables in about ten minutes. I would suggest we be long gone by then.

We?

"Sure, you saved me from going to jail, the least I can do is get you something to eat. You are hungry, aren’t you?"

Charlie hesitated. "Well, it has been awhile since I ate."

So come on, then. Raven led the way down the alley and along a rutted back road. On one side the backs of tall brick buildings loomed over them, on the other was an overgrown lot with a few motor cars rusting under the rising sun.

You’re not from here, are you? Raven asked.

Charlie was instantly suspicious. Why do you ask?

Raven gave him a lopsided smile. Right, you don’t like to answer questions. Not a bad view in most instances but it could get you in a lot of trouble where we’re going.

Why? Where are going?

A special place, she said, still smiling. A place not everybody is allowed to go. But don’t worry, I think you’ll fit in just fine. 

CHAPTER TWO

Miranda sat beside the campfire, watching the rising sun paint the eastern horizon in shades of gold and amber. She hadn’t slept much last night, all her thoughts and worries focused on Charlie. But then that was no different from every other night and day since they parted. If only she could know that he was safe. But her gift, or curse as she sometimes thought of it, was of no help.

Her gift had directed her to Charlie, and it assured her now that there was still much they had to do. But it wasn’t the same as knowing, as seeing. Sometimes she wondered what was the point of this gift when all it gave her were vague feelings and directions. Never anything definite, anything solid. Except for when they were being held in the prison camp, then everything had been so clear.

It was the drugs, of course, which the doctors had given her to advance her mental abilities. They had worked wonderfully, but she was smart enough to understand they would have drained her in the end. They pushed too far, stretching her gift beyond what it was, but sometimes she wished she could have them back again. At least then she could see Charlie and know where he was.

Penny for your thoughts?

Miranda turned and smiled up at Grant. I doubt they’re worth that much.

Grant gazed into the fire, his voice low. Thinking about Charlie?

Yeah. You too?

He nodded. "His knack for getting into trouble worries me. I hate to think of him off on his

own, even if he does have Spree along."

I’m worried too. Miranda drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Where do you think he is now?

Probably already in Kiloreen, well on his way to finding the catacombs.

Miranda wasn’t so sure of that, considering the fact that Charlie hadn’t been able to use the map when he left. Do you think the catacombs really exist?

Grant was quiet a moment, his expression thoughtful. I don’t know. But if they do, Charlie will find them.

But what if they didn’t make it across the border? What if they were arrested? Miranda could feel all her fear rising up like a tidal wave. What if he’s hurt, or . . . or . . . But she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Even to think it hurt more than she would have imagined.

Grant knelt and lay a hand on her shoulder. I’m sure he’s fine, you know how protective Spree is. Besides, Charlie can take care of himself.

She knew he was right, but it didn’t help. If I could only see something, know something. She sighed. I was thinking of asking Thomas if he could broadcast a message long distance.

Grant frowned. You wouldn’t get anything back.

I know. But it would make me feel better to send word to Charlie. Let him know that we’re all right so he won’t have to be worried about us. If only we had some of those drugs, maybe Thomas could act like a . . . I don’t know, a two-way radio or something. Then we could talk back and forth and everybody would feel better.

"Even if we had some of those drugs, I couldn’t let you give them to him. You know how sick