Children of The Underground

Chapter 11: A Light in The Darkness.

After the wraith's death, the group sat down for a break. Lena and Misha were helping Boris clean himself up. Vera, on the other hand, sat down and took out first a notebook, and then a pen and inkwell. Drazhek, peeking over Vera's shoulder, was astounded to see that Vera didn't write with blocky, angular print letters that most Mednagorans used for writing, but instead a squiggly, chicken-scratch cursive script. The kind used by merchants, scribes, academics, and anyone else who had much to write but little time to write it.

Vera took notice of Drazhek, and smiled at him.

"Interested?" She asked. "I'm recording the things we saw here. Specifically the anomalies and mutants." Vera then patted on the ground beside her, as if she were summoning a child for their lessons. Drazhek didn't mind.

"So, what have you got so far?" Drazhek asked, squatting on his heels beside Vera.

"Right now," Vera began "it seems to me that the crystals, the ones that teleport matter around them, represent a magical phenomena somewhere between an artifact and an anomaly. Because, they are stable enough to be visible, and even look like solids, but they can't be physically interacted with. Or maybe their magical aura is too strong to interact with them..." Vera trailed off.

"What about the Hell Slime?" Drazhek asked.

"The what? Oh, you mean the pools of blue, viscous liquid. Those, my friend, are probably too dangerous for research." Vera became silent, then stared absently into the distance. "Though I suppose, that won't stop people like your lover from trying to get their hands on it."

Drazhek stared in stunned silence. He was thankful for the gas mask, which hid his slack, open mouth and wide eyes.

"Excuse me, but what?" He asked softly.

"I'm sorry, Dragomir but yes, they probably would. Vedmaks don't have eyes for anything but money. I'm grateful for the help that my guides have provided me. And for the help they've provided to the Institute in general. But who do you think chooses to go looking for anomalies in a zone?"

Drazhek remained silent, recalling Misha's words to him: Our lives are worth a pouchful of gold, and any dumb bastard can try scrounging shit out of the zone.

"Look, I don't think that you're like the rest of them." Vera continued. "But be honest with yourself. The reason your partner wanted to find this place is because artifacts are supposed to grow off of the walls here. vedmaks get paid well for selling the locations of anomalies. But an actual artifact? That'd rake in much more coin. And with an artifact, they can find much more generous buyers than the Institute."

Drazhek thought about the swag Misha carried with them on the carriage ride: the gasmasks and the Brass Compass. Probably bought from some shady dealer of black market artifacts. And they'd probably pay handsomely for an artifact, too.

All of the things that Vera told him about Misha were true, but Drazhek was suprised by his indifference to them. Instead, he thought about his little picnic with Misha in the zone, when she didn't even know him that well, yet had ruthlessly saved their lives. He thought about how they sang together, drenched and miserable, yet warmed by each other's company.

But it wasn't just Misha. Boris and Lena, too. Of course he called them by their epithets, "Wolf" and "Gunslinger", but to him Boris and Lena were forged from the same alloy of strength and warmth that Misha was.

Gods he thought. Don't let me be like her.

Drazhek saw Misha walking over to him and Vera.

"Smartass, Madam Thaumaturge, Wolf, Gunslinger, and I have an idea about how to cross the crystals and the pools of..."

"Hellslime," Drazhek added
"Hellslime. Good name." Misha nodded, an oddly comic gesture coming from the bug-faced gas mask. "Anyways, there's no reason for us to try to muck about in any of that shit. So instead, we're going to climb over it." Misha traced a line above the crystals and the slime with her finger, tracing an imaginary cable.