Children of The Underground

Chapter 18: The Crucible

There was silence, as the Vedmaks and their mavish guide gazed upon the city, which in all honesty was not quite dead. The anomalies, moving balls of fire, lightning, and gas, coursed through the streets like blood cells through an artery.

"There's so many of them." Drazhek uttered listlessly.  Misha turned to him, a little startled. it was the first thing to break the silence.

"Anomalies?" she asked. But Drazhek's eyes weren't following them.

"Dead bodies" he said, and went quiet.

And below the canopy of luminescent mushrooms, the ersatz, perpetual midnight sky of this underground realm, the bodies of dead mavs were bathed in its greenish glow. The number of corpses from this distance, even though they were small pinpricks in their  field of vision was staggering. Piles of a dozen or so dotted the landscape where they lay. A pile of skeletons were at intersections, where a blind turn into an alleyway met a savage end from an anomaly. Some were piled in the square.

"I haven't seen this many bodies in 20 years." Boris remarked "During the war with the Nordniks, when they captured Vladigorsk and nearly burnt it to the ground. Lena and I were no older then you were, bratishek. And when we joined the army and stormed their capital at Ulfborg...We did much worse."

"Murderer." Drazhek spat. Boris flinched and turned to him. "That's what this Koshei is. He made these people, promised them paradise, then threw them in a bonfire like broken toys. They were a sacrifice to his pride."

Drazhek's eyes smoldered like coals.

"We have to find this bastard. We have to find him and make him pay."

"Do you think you can help us?" Asked Elektra. The voice sounded tender and warm.

Truthfully, the party of four vedmaks (and one thaumaturge) didn't think they had the stuff. And in any case, it wasn't their problem. Not by a long shot. Neither the massacre, nor the tribe of not-quite-human subterraneans were their responsibility. Their ultimate mission was to plunder this dead city like grave robbers. But their booty was more precious than gold or jewels: artifacts and maybe thaumaturgical documents. Benefits to mankind and their pocketbooks. But the city's defilement, and the name they could attach to its perpetrator, moved them. 

As the saying went: "one does not get in the way of the other."

Misha turned to Elektra and bombarded her with questions. 

"We need maps: anomaly movement patterns, places of death, a city map in general",

"What's the supply of orichalc and vajra you have. Is there any nearby?" 

"Has anyone ever tried to recover the bodies? Maybe there's something useful to be found in them." 

Elektra, fumbled to get a word in edgewise, coming closest to saying "I don't know." 

Then Misha dropped the big question:

"What's our compensation? In material terms." 

Everyone stared at her, shocked. If asked they'd grudgingly admit it was in the back of their minds, but to ask it so brazenly felt base and exploitative. 

"What?" asked Misha. She turned back to them, as though she could feel her companions' shocked, appalled glares boring into the back of her head. "Let me be clear: we are putting our asses on the line for them. You've seen how many people died. Stationary anomalies are bad enough. But moving ones? You gotta be kidding me. We're not bogatyrs, in shining armor with magic whips and the help of Baba Yaga. We're vedmaks. Well, save for Lady Thaumaturge over there," Misha pointed an accusing finger at Vera, who huffed indignantly. "All we got is lead, steel, powder, and a bag to carry as much of it as we can. Oh, and our brains. And I feel like I'm the only one using hers here."  Misha turned back to Elektra. The light from those pale, pupilless eyes was cold, like ice sparking in moonlight. But Misha stiffened up for it. She dealt with worse than petulant, miserly customers, even if they were more (or less) than human and could shoot lightning from their fingertips. 

"I'll have to discuss it with father Afanasy." Elektra growled. "But I suppose beggars can't be choosers here. Only don't think you can screw us. We've been here for centuries and we can wait for centuries more, if that's what it takes." 

"Who's screwing who?" Whispered Misha. She then leaned in and cast a furtive glance at Drazhek." "Apart from me and that guy." 

Bluish purple color rose to Elektra's cheeks, but she kept her composure. 

"All right, talk amongst yourselves about what you plan to do. I'm giving you an hour to discuss it, while I report back to father Afanasy."

Elektra turned back, her silver hair whirring in a short halo  around her ears, and then disappeared into the tunnel. 

When Misha returned to the rest of her companions, she saw that Drazhek and Vera were talking excitedly with one another. With mixed curiosity and apprehension she approached them. 

"O chom rech idje?  What are you guys going on about?" 

Drazhek grinned at her. And Vera seemed pleased as well.

"Mishechka, do you notice anything about the city below us?" 

Misha peered over the city carefully, averting her eyes from the  dead bodies littering the streets. There was a round-domed cathedral, some square with a statue of a man in it (although it made her think of the copper mountain mistress, for some reason), then her eyes drew back into the Kremlin. The hexagonal Kremlin.

The revelation dropped on Misha's head like a heap of snow. 

"It's Vladigorsk. Bogi Velike, it's the spitting image of it." 

"Well," Vera interjected. "Maybe a couple centuries ago, but the important landmarks are there." 

Misha threw an exasperated glance at Vera, then turned to Lena and Boris. "You two lived here all your life, right?"

They scoffed in unison. 

"Lived here?" Boris asked. "Town like ours, you can live in it all your life and barely scratch the surface. Lena and I fought here." He looked to his wife, smiling gently. "It's actually where we met. Though we spent most of it, fighting the occupation like rats in the sewers, slums, and abandoned buildings."

"The point is," interrupted Lena. "We know the ins and outs of this town." 

"Exploration'd be dangerous." Drazhek  said. "But I talked to Vera about something. You know how large-scale anomaly mining happens?" 

"You cordon off the area with stakes and orichalc wiring. Drazhek, you don't mean..."

"Yes. I do. we set up a perimeter," Drazhek pointed towards the city and began drawing imaginary lines. "We get a vajra crystal. The biggest kurva we can find," he pointed up to the top of the ceiling. "I guess that whatever rock this mountain's made from, it has to be some kind of orichalc ore. So we shoot it up there, and" 

"Mass precipitation." Misha's eyes lit up with excitement. "We turn all those anomalies into artifacts, and then it's straight for the Kremlin." 

Drazhek was pleased with how excited Misha felt, and even Vera, who held her composure better, had a gentle smile on her lips. He could feel himself grinning stupidly as well. 

"It's a stupid plan, I know." He said. "Stupid and crazy. But think about it. It just might work." 

At that moment, Elektra came back. She was perturbed by the happy excited chatter from the five humans, the topsiders. But before she could ask them, Drazhek turned to her and said.

"Elektra Nikolayeva. We have a proposal for you."