Chapter Three
Awan sighed and slumped in his chair. His long black coat bunched up underneath him. He had his sword strapped to his side still. It lay at an unattractive angle on the chair, rubbing against the bottom.
Awan didn’t look like the leader of the warrior clan, not that he cared overmuch. It was just Dasan in the chamber after all. Besides, even if one of his warriors came in and saw him all slumped down, looking bored, they knew better than to comment.
Dasan could get away with teasing Awan, though. Awan knew he was about to take some on when Dasan met his gaze from across the desk where he sat squaring away the finances of the realm.
The finances were extensive and a daily part of Dasan’s chores. As Oberon of the realm, Dasan could have someone else do it, but he wasn’t the trusting sort. Awan also knew Dasan liked working with numbers and was good at it, so there was that as well. As second in command, Awan probably should have been the one to take care of the books. He would have them all screwy if left up to him and Dasan knew it. Awan was much better in a fight than adding numbers.
Dasan’s realm had a peaceful existence. While it was a good thing because it meant Awan had done his job well, it left him restless.
If the smile on Dasan’s face was any indication, he knew Awan’s struggle.
"I'm no good outside a battle." He trained with the rest of the warriors daily, which usually settled him. That hadn’t been the case for a solid day, and Awan couldn’t explain why, not even to himself.
"We have this discussion every few days."
Awan slumped in the chair. "Perhaps I need something more."
Dasan chuckled and looked back at the papers on the desk in front of him. "Perhaps."
"I'm perfectly serious, Dasan. This realm managing isn't for me."
"Shall I create a battle to appease you."
Awan chuckled. "That would make you a tyrant."
"Several already think of me that way."
"True." Those that did mark Dasan as such had a reason. Dasan didn’t hold to nonsense, and there had been a lot of that amongst the realm’s fae lately. One, in particular, talked of usurping Dasan.
The problem would give him something to focus on, but there were better spies than him amongst his warriors. They scouted for information even as he sat there.
Perhaps that was the issue. He wanted the problem gone, and the perpetrator disposed of as soon as possible.
Waiting wasn’t something Awan did well.
Awan would have responded further, but someone knocked on the door.
"Enter." Dasan never looked up from his books.
A pooka faery stumbled into the room, nearly falling flat when a guard pushed him. The pooka was one Awan recognized because he had designs on Kele the size of the realm. His name was Gilly.
The guard pushed Gilly again, and he stumbled, falling on his knees. He caught himself with his hands before his face met the wooden floor.
Ale waived off his skin in thick waves. Because Awan was a Sluagh, he was able to change forms, and one of his favorite shapes was that of an Upperworld wolf. The odor made him think perhaps changing so many times to that form had left his sense of smell more sensitive than usual.
Gilly struggled to gain his footing, which became the stuff of comedy the longer he tried. Awan would have chuckled, but he couldn’t afford to lose his stern demeanor in front of Gilly or the guard. The only ones Awan ever let see his true nature was Dasan, Talli, and Kele.
Awan stood and closed the distance between him and Gilly. He steadied the pooka by gripping his arm. Instead of addressing Gilly, he turned his scowl in the guard. "What is the meaning of bringing a drunk faery to Oberon Dasan?"
"Sorry, Second. I overheard Gilly at the pub. It seems he helped Talli and Kele go through the door to the Upperworld. If there is truth to that than I thought the situation dire given the lateness of the hour."
“Is this true, Gilly?"
Gilly looked up at him. His head swayed on his neck, and his eyes looked as if they swam inside their sockets. They were red-rimmed, and the whites held a yellow hue. "Yes, sire."
Awan had learned there was a time and place for everything. The great Dagda allowed things to happen the way he saw fit. Perhaps he allowed Kele to come up with the idea to go through the door to the Upperworld. And he knew it was Kele's idea, not Talli. Talli wouldn’t bother with more than his library and the books he read. Talli did have a curiosity that created trouble, but it was Kele's sense of adventure that always started them down a dangerous road.
Always before, Awan and Dasan managed to save them from the worst perils.
"Kele bribed me, Oberon. I swear."
"It's more likely you took advantage of his adventurous nature. And if I find out that's so, then you'll be spending time in the dungeon. That's a promise." Dasan came around the desk, his face so hard-edged it would scare even the fiercest warrior. The last time Dasan had that look on his face he ran someone through with a sword. "Take him to the dungeon but keep him close. I may need to question him further."
"Yes, sire. Shall I gather men to look for Talli and Kele."
Awan winced. The whole realm would know of their mischief. Dasan would have to punish them. The door only opened twice a year, during Samhain and Beltane. Anyone who went through from Dasan’s realm had his permission. Dasan would have to make an example of Talli and Kele so that no others went through without him knowing.
Before Dasan could answer, the commander of Awan’s warriors came into the office. Awan had picked him because he kept a steady head under pressure. The bored expression on his face spoke well of him. It was the tick in his jaw that put Awan on alert.
Awan gripped the hilt of his sword when his stomach muscles cramped.
He let Dasan handle Gilly as he met the commander halfway. "We found a human wandering the halls in the east wing."
"A human?" That had Talli and Kele’s mark all over it.
When the commander tried to speak again, Awan held up his hand and turned to get Dasan's attention. A simple look was all it took for Dasan to let the guard take Gilly and close the distance between them.
The guard led Gilly from the room.
Awan nodded to the commander. "Continue."
"He stole something from one of the rooms." The commander held out a small bottle of slick. Awan took it with a curse.
"It's mine," he mumbled for Dasan's benefit more than the commander.
"Aye, the human came by way of a door in your bedchamber."
Awan wrapped his fist around the glass bottle so tightly his knuckles turned white, but it kept the shaking at bay. Dasan and the commander spoke, but Awan tuned them out. His head swam with questions, unable to think passed the giant one pacing in his mind.
"Why would Dagda allow the human into my bedchamber?" He didn’t even realize he spoke until all conversation ceased and both Dasan and the commander looked at him at the same time.
"The human claimed to know Talli and Kele. He said they sent him." The commander held a medallion in his hand.
Dasan took the medallion. "It's Talli's. He wouldn't give it over easily." Dasan looked over at Awan. "Something is wrong."
Awan nodded. "Yes. That must be why Dagda allowed the human so close.”
Awan started out of the room, Dasan beside him. “We take the human with us."
The commanders next words made his heart lodge in his throat. "We put the human in the pit."
Awan turned with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He would have run the commander through, but Dasan's whispered words stopped him. "I would have put any thief in the pit. Commander Killian knows that."
Awan sighed. He knew well the truth of that. "There is no chance for him to survive unless I go."
Dasan nodded. "I will go to Talli and Kele. You save the human." Dasan turned to the commander. "No one else goes in the pit until my return. It may be some time for either of us. You will take over until one of us gets back."
The commander bowed. "I'm honored, sire."
Awan and Dasan started out of the room once again. Dasan smiled and said, "You did say you wanted a battle. You will get your wish."
"True."
To get to the dungeon, there was a spiraling flight of stairs that descended so far it felt as if Awan were deep underground. If not for his long cloak pulled up around his face, he might have shivered from the chill gripping the air.
Torches lined the walls on one side of the stone steps. They lit the way enough, so Awan wasn't stumbling to find the steps. The light left shadows on the stone walls, though.
The first level held the prisoners who wouldn't stay very long. The guard who brought Gilly to them only minutes ago had just closed the heavy metal door to one of the cells.
Awan had never had the misfortune to spend any lengthy time in any of the cells, and he hadn't been around when construction took place. He knew the metal was forged deep within the pit. The makers had come and went until they completed them.
Storytellers told tales of peril and death for several makers. It was the stuff of legends told to the young during bedtime. The story often turned to the felons who occupied the pit as a warning to children to mind their parents.
Awan nodded to the guard as they passed each other.
If the first level held those bored and angry at their situation, the second level held those souls that had been there far longer than was healthy. Hands reached out to him. Each one looked similar to the last. All dirty with their fingers spread out as if that kept the shaking at bay.
They all begged and moaned for their life and with good reason. The second tier housed those who committed the worst crimes. There was no help coming for them, although some deserved a second chance.
They wouldn't get a savior in Awan that day. Only one would, and that was if he had been clever enough to find his way through the pitfalls of the darkness in the last few minutes.
His strides were long, and he nearly ran the distance to the end of the hall. He wanted to take the stairs at a quicker pace, but the torches were spaced too far apart for him to see well enough. Long shadows covered most of the way, and the air began to thicken with the stench of sulfur and coal.
The further down he went the more he saw the fires of the pit. The flame gave off a false sense of warmth. The feeling washed over him. Some evil magic lay lurking in the flames ready for him to grow complacent. When he did, it would strike out and take his soul as its very own.
Awan knew to reject the falseness in the flames. When he did, the cold seeped into his bones.
Eventually, the stairs ran out. The stone plunged downward and disappeared into blackness.
Screams were faint, urging Awan to jump into the fray. He needed to save the human. He obviously came because Kele and Talli couldn't. Risking himself should be rewarded, despite his thievery.
Awan pulled his sword from its sheath and jumped into the darkness.