Legacy's Prince

Chapter Forty-Eight: It Begins

Axellia and I follow along behind Mother. She doesn't look back at us. She doesn't speak. She keeps her eyes fixed directly in front of her. Her jaw is clenched tight. Her shoulders are square. Every small step she takes has purpose.

She is, in some strange manner, as alive as I have ever seen her, while still appearing as an empty, cracked shell.

I glance over at Axellia, who merely shakes her head at me as we follow her back towards the staircase we'd met her at. Dezden stalks right behind us, disguised as a guard again, every muscle in his body taught, like the string of a bow ready to lose it's arrow.

Everything, even the atmosphere is drawn tight and strained. Something massive is bearing its weight down upon us, ready to crush us. Though I cannot fully grasp what it is, I know there is no stopping it's impending approach.

I find myself staring down shadows, peaking around every small corner. One wrong move and everything around me will collapse into defeat. Even as I will my feet to move soundlessly, even as I pray for each step taken to be free of snare or detection, I know this caution is in vain. Like a glass dam holding back a tsunami, disaster is inevitable.

All I can do is to try and get myself, my sisters, my mother, and my friends to safety before everything shatters.

     Cai.

I jump as Zahairas' call breaks through the silence.

     Yes?

     I've freed the other familiars.

Good, I sigh in relief.

Where do you want us to meet?

     Hold on a moment, we're still escaping.

     Well, hurry up will you? It's going to be dawn soon!

    Trust me, I'm well aware of that!

    Mother suddenly holds up a hand for us to stop. I look about only to realize we're standing outside a now empty throne room.

    Mother walks in first, torch held aloft, glancing from side to side, looking for any sign of life.

    Satisfied, she turns back to us, motioning us to follow once more.

    Like three mice darting across a kitchen floor, Axellia, Dezden and I race to her side and follow her into the hall that leads to the dungeon.

Here Mother stops, a small flicker of sadness, or perhaps fear crossing her face as she stares down into the dark stairwell.

"Mother?" I ask softly.

She takes a deep breath, straightening her shoulders, and takes the first step.

"Remember," she says as we begin our descent. "No matter what happens, do exactly as I say."

As we descend into the pungent darkness, warbling complaints rise to greet us.

     "Now what is the cause of all this?"

     "This must be some kind of joke."

     "As if this hell hole didn't smell bad enough as is? Now we've got to shuffle in ankle-high muck!"

    The light from Mother's torch illuminates the faces of two guards, standing watch of the main entrance to the dungeon. A pool of murky water covers their feet and laps against the bottom step, leaving beads of brown on the grey stone. Both guards snap to attention, shocked by the sight of us.