Tales of the Vangen: The Black Ministry's Betrayal (Book 1)

Chapter 66: A Final Stand

Every narrow twist and turn drew Libro deeper into the catacombs. He marched through the old, dusty hallways with the others, passing mausoleums the size of buildings. From there, they crossed a mile deep pit piled high with the bones of the dead. Down in the dark, it was difficult to tell how long time had passed. An hour? A day? A year? Libro felt like he'd been marching forever, following the directions from his unsettled memories.

After a long stretch of tunnel, he emerged into a yawning chasm. A lone causeway made of stone lay before him, connecting one side to the other. Up above, a massive crystal hung suspended by a thick rusty chain spilling pale light into the chasm. Curiously, Libro peeked over the edge. Slatted walkways crisscrossed each other down below, suspended over a dark pit with no end in sight.

"Nido's tits," Cent whistled as he bent down to look as well. "That's a long drop. Do you think it even has a bottom?"

"Bet you could get all the way to Gehenna from here," said Moss. "Not that I intend to find out."

"We can sight-see later. Come on." Libro pressed on ahead, the others quick to follow close. They stepped warily across the causeway, their torches just able to cut through the darkness that the crystal's light could not.

Further on, Libro noticed a row of mausoleums lined up along either side of the pat. Their masonry was cracked and molded, the house names carved into the stone long since faded. Libro could only guess how old they were. They could have held the progenitors of Byzantia for all he knew. Or perhaps they simply held no one at all. It was the Deadways, after all.

The bridge's stonework, however, compared to the mausoleums, was impeccable. Solid, even gray stones paved the way forward, Their mortar still appearing as if freshly poured. At a glance, Libro could have guessed the bridge had been built recently, but deep down, he knew only a master mason's hand could have created something this exquisite.

Luckily for everyone involved, they were able to cross without issue. A few of the guardsmen gave a sigh of relief as they finally crested the threshold. A few even mumbled prayers.

Libro closed his eyes and listened. The cold veil around his thoughts was slowly becoming easier and easier to here in his mind. It whispered where to go, as clear as if someone were standing right beside him.

"This way," Libro pointed down a nearby tunnel. A murmur rippled amongst the guardsmen, A mixture of discontent and hard gripped fear. They were scared. Libro could tell. He was scared too, but regardless he put one foot in front of the other, and the guardsmen followed.

After a few hundred paces, Libro heard the scraping of feet off in the distance. He stopped and put a finger to his lips. "Shh. Hear that?"

"Aye," Cent and a few others agreed.

"Best you lot hide where you can."

"What about you?" Fig forced his ox-like voice into a whisper.

"Why I'm going to greet them, of course," Libro plodded ahead towards the noise.

"You're insane," Moss hissed, but he didn't try and stop him. The others wedged themselves behind pillars, stone caskets, and whatever small crevice they could find.

Libro stood ahead of them, smiling despite himself. Maybe he was insane. And perhaps it was for the best.

The sound of feet running came closer and closer. Soon Libro could see the wisps of torches just around the corner, their light preceded by quickly stepping shadows. He watched with bated breath as figures emerged from the dark.

"Libro? Regis appeared from the shadows haunted. His eyes were hard and rimmed with red, his armor caked in blood and grime. "Nido's pearly white tits boy, what the feck are you doing here?" Culter and Nox appeared beside him, looking just as equally disheveled.