Legend Land: Tale of the Nameless God

Chapter 19.1: Ismar Trading Co.

Part 1

|||||||||

One of the benefits of being a rat? You know where all the little hidey holes are: the cracks in the pavement, the alleys behind the banks, and spots Inari's agents don't wander. Or, say, sewers that lead straight into merchant megacorporations. Of course, when people spot a rat, it gets exterminated. The trick is to not get caught.

"Careful!" Icarus snaps from behind me. Some rats are noisier than others. I turn to the "genius" and put a finger to my mask.

My voice is a whisper, hissing out between the spaces of my mask. "Be quiet, cripple boy. The walls may not have ears, but the guards do. Come to think of it..." I turn my critical gaze to the slimy cracked concrete and bricks of the tunnel walls. "Don't talk to the walls either."

"I'm not the one who doesn't know how to duck," Icarus complains and glares at Esilea. At least the walls don't talk back. (but they don't make the same satisfying crunch sound his head does) True, true.

"Sorry!" Esilea apologizes. Her voice echoes down the sewer walls and I wince.

"What did I just say?" I hiss. There's a soft creak above us, and a few pebbles trickle down onto our heads—we all freeze. I hold my breath, which is probably a good thing, considering what I'm currently wading through. The footsteps pass, and we finally breathe again. I wrinkle my nose—bad move on my part. Note: bring air fresheners in sewers next time.

"I'm sorry I snapped," Icarus says softly. Finally, they're learning. (still, the screams sound better) "I feel so useless being carried like a child."

"You are a child," Wikolia says as she slips past them. She nearly blends into the darkness and grim green on the walls; she was born for this.

"When did you get here?" Icarus asks. One of the veins on his head twitches at the sight of the Wyvern.

"What she meant to say," Esilea interrupts, "was that you're the only one who knows how to work the explosives." Icarus nods slowly to himself.

"That is not—"

"So did you look into it?" I ask, cutting Wikolia off. The Wyvern snaps her attention to me and nods. She flicks her tongue and visibly recoils, lifting her tail even higher above the sewer muck.

"Yes, and—"

"Tell me after." The Wyvern frowns as we begin creeping forward again.

"I don't appreciate being interrupted, Namonai," Wikolia says.

"I don't appreciate an unreliable flake pretending to be part of the team," I retort quietly under my breath.

"What team?" she replies, deadly calm. Her tail is completely still while we walk side by side.

"My thoughts exactly," I whisper. I quicken my pace until I can barely hear the group's incessant squabbling. Their problems aren't my problems right now. But if not now, then when? We're a team, aren't we? Hell, they don't even believe that. (they're food. you could do this alone) I was doing it alone before. (then do it again; you're better than they are) You may have a point; I am a literal god.

I come to a halt beneath a square grate and wipe my hands on my pants. I place my hands on the bottom and push. The metal slowly lifts and grinds against stone while I shift it to the side. A large buildup of gunk splatters onto my mask and I splutter as some gets on my bandages. I've never been more thankful for protection. Well, there was that one time with the girl in the Kingdom...