T
he underground of Aethelburg resembled nothing Lyall had ever known. Up above, the city was a labyrinth of copper and glass, a symphony of pistons and steam. Down here, beneath the earth, a thick silence reigned, broken only by the drip of condensate and the distant rumble of great pumps.
Elias guided them with the assurance of someone who had grown up in these ducts. He stopped from time to time, closed his eyes, activated his precognition in bursts, then moved on.
"The Sentinels used these tunnels during the Great Purge," he explained in a low voice. "Vane had them sealed off, but he doesn't know all of them. This one, for instance."
He pointed to a sewer grate blocked by a rusted grille. Behind it, a narrow conduit plunged into darkness.
"Where does it lead?" Lyra asked.
"To the Order's old headquarters. Beneath the Great Clock. No one has set foot there in twenty years."
Veridia, walking at the rear, chuckled.
"No one except the rats. And maybe a few ghosts."
Mira squeezed Lyall's hand a little tighter. The girl had not spoken a word since they left her hideout. Her blue eyes scanned the darkness with an almost animal attention.
"Are you afraid?" Elara asked gently.
"No," Mira replied. "It's just that… my father said the tunnels ate children who cried."
"Your father had a sense of humor," Lyra said with a strange smile.
"He also said that shadows were friends, if you knew how to talk to them."
Lyra fell silent. Her own shadows trembled, as if recognizing a distant truth.
They crawled for ten minutes through the conduit. The grille gave way under a carefully measured Teral strike. On the other side, a vast vaulted chamber opened before them.
It was the old Sentinel refectory. Stone tables stained with dust lined up beneath faded frescoes depicting battle scenes. At the far end, a broken bronze statue – a man in armor, his face hammered away, his right arm missing.
"Who was that?" Lyall asked.
"The founder of the Order," Elias replied. "Kaelen used to tell me his story. He was assassinated by his own guards when he refused to hand over the Archon to a cabal of magnates."
"Betrayal is universal," Veridia murmured.
They settled into a corner, sheltered from drafts. Elara pulled out a map of the Glass Mountain a yellowed parchment covered in tight annotations.
"Veridia, you said you knew a secret passage. Where is it?"
The Veiled One crouched near the map. Her finger traced the mountain's contours.
"Here. To the west, where the old mana mines were abandoned. There's a gallery that appears collapsed, but behind the rubble, a natural duct leads directly to the Palace foundations."
"Vane hasn't had it watched?"
"He doesn't know about it. To him, it's just an old mine unstable, of no interest."
Lyall studied the map.
"And once inside? The Archon is in the Heart chamber, beneath the mountain. How do we get there without being slaughtered?"
Veridia looked up at him. Her features were drawn, marked by the mana burn eating away at her chest.
"There's a second passage. Reserved for the Veiled Ones of the Breath. It goes through the Vestals' chamber, then descends behind the main altar."
"And the guards?"
"There will be guards. Many. But I know their codes. Their habits. For years, I trained their officers."
Elara narrowed her eyes.
"Why didn't you use this knowledge against Vane sooner?"
"Because I was blind," Veridia replied without evasion. "I believed power justified everything. Vane showed me that soulless power only leads to loneliness."
She gestured to her wound.
"I'm going to die anyway. I might as well have my death serve a purpose."
A heavy silence settled. Then Mira spoke.
"My father died for something too."
"Yes," Veridia said, looking at the girl. "And that's the finest thing one can leave behind."
Lyall stood up.
"Let's rest for a few hours. Tomorrow, we enter the mountain."
They ate dry rations in silence. Elias stood guard near the refectory entrance, his hand on the hilt of his temporal blade. Lyra sat apart, shadows dancing around her like black fireflies.
Elara approached Lyall.
"What are you thinking about?"
"About Vane. What he's become. What we're going to do to him."
"Are you afraid?"
"Yes. Not of him. Of what I'll have to do to stop him."
She sat down beside him.
"The Teral weighs on you, doesn't it?"
"It burns me. From the inside. Kaelen said the anchor protects. But the more I use it, the more I feel it driving me into the ground."
Elara placed her hand on his.
"Then don't sink. Remember why you're fighting."
"For you," he said simply.
She didn't answer. But she didn't pull her hand away.
After a while, Lyra stood up and came to sit near them. Her black eyes glowed in the dim light.
"I wanted to say… thank you. For accepting me. Even with my Void."
"You're useful," Elara replied.
"It's not that. It's that… before, I felt alone. The Void inside me, I thought it was evil. A curse. But you didn't treat me like a monster."
"Because you're not one," Lyall said.
Lyra gave a faint smile the first they had seen from her.
"Elias isn't either. He lost Kaelen, his entire Order, yet he keeps going. You've all lost something. And you keep going."
"That's what it means to be human," Elara said. "You keep going. Even when you have nothing left."
They sat in silence, watching the shadows dance on the walls.
After a few hours, Elias woke them.
"We have to go. The patrols change districts at dawn. We'll have a two-hour window."
They rose, rolled up their gear, checked their weapons. Lyall activated his Teral the familiar warmth burned his chest, but he mastered it.
Veridia took the lead, her old authority resurfacing.
"Follow me. Don't speak. Don't touch anything. And if I raise my hand, throw yourselves to the ground without hesitation."
They entered a narrow duct, carved into the rock. The air grew more humid, heavy with the smell of sulfur and ancient minerals. The Glass Mountain was not far.
Lyall felt the Teral vibrate.
It knows, he thought. The mountain knows we're coming.
In the distance, somewhere beneath their feet, a dull pulse the Heart of the World, perhaps, or the death rattle of the dying Archon. Or both.
They advanced into the darkness, toward their destiny.