Paragon - Book I

Into the Darkness

Teeth suddenly clamp onto her pant leg and Allayria nearly yelps, jumping up with a jolt of surprise. Rex buries her fangs in deeper and begins to back up, dragging Allayria's leg with her.

"Ok, ok," Allayria hisses, holding up her hands as she moves in the direction the wolf is tugging.

The wolf releases her and they sprint down the alleyway. Rex takes a corridor to their left, weaving into the small delivery space for the abutting factories. Instead of following its steady incline upward, the wolf shifts, taking the slab stone steps down to a short, dark hole which can only lead to one place.

Allayria takes a slow, wavering breath as she passes under the stone enclosure, feeling the sudden rush of clammy air. She has to bend over in here, hunched so her head won't scrape against the low ceiling.

Allowing herself to close her eyes for one minute, she gives her head a small shake, trying not to think of the quiet sound of water dripping or the splash of tiny feet somewhere down the tunnel. If Serfigue and guards had been coming back down the street, where did Ben and Iaves go? She swallows, glancing back but keeping pace with Rex.

Sound seems to travel quickly in the sewers, but light grows steadily weaker as she moves farther from the entrance. The metal ball is out from her pocket now, shifting comfortingly into a long, thin knife, the handle melded perfectly to her sweat-slick fingers. She would like nothing more than to prod into Rex's mind, have some tangible communication with the wolf from which she could learn where they are going and what is going on. Her unoccupied fingers twitch and she closes her eyes against it and the walls—which are growing inward toward her, hulking down close to her shoulders, surely—before she acts rashly.

In this near-black hole she can hear the din from the surrounding buildings. The clatter of metal in a restaurant kitchen, the holler of voices at a bar. Other offshoots carry the sounds of gossiping guards or off-the-clock workers, who murmur about the latest raid or the destruction at Morgalth. Twice she hears snippets of conversations about the latest spotting of the Paragon—somewhere in the Solveig kingdom, she tries to tell herself with a smirk, but her facial muscles don't seem to be working.

They take a sharp left down a new tunnel and as Allayria peers over the top of Rex she can see the faint glimmer of streetlight ahead. She breathes deep and speeds up, going faster, flying past everything until the dark, wretched tomb is stripped away and they are out in the moonlight, alone in a thin alleyway surrounded by the clamor of the city.

"Thanks," she says to Rex, patting the wolf's soft, black head while she leans with her other hand on her knee. She looks up and around, trying to absorb as much about her surroundings as possible.

She isn't quite certain where they are, but she slides over to a building corner, peering along the edge down a dark passage. On the other side is a brightly-lit street—the main road through Solveigard, if she can judge correctly. She turns back and looks down the passage on the other side, catching sight of the familiar Brezkin spires. They have somehow looped around to the other side of the house it seems, and she has a sudden idea. When she looks around she finds Rex standing close behind, gazing up almost expectantly at her.

Feeling she has just inexplicably been given the reins of this impromptu mission, Allayria begins to move down the alleyway, taking in the upcoming street as more of it becomes visible. Once they are nearly at the corner she tucks the knife back into her pocket and stands up straight, pulling her hair back into a neater, more formal bun, and then looking down at Rex.

"Keep close to me," she advises her. "Keep low and don't attract attention."

She can't tell if the wolf understands a word she says, but she slips out of the alley anyway, slouching into a familiar, hulking pose, hands buried in pockets and face downcast.