Castro took the handle of the sword and inhaled deeply. Maria cringed, expecting the hilt to burn his flesh upon the first touch. That didn’t happen, thankfully, though the blade evoked a certain type of malice.
Now Castro examined the sword with a furrowed brow. He looked as if he was staring evil directly in the face. In some way, he was. It was just a normal sword without the dark magic behind it, but Castro no doubt felt something.
“I hope I won’t have to use this,” he said.
“You probably won’t,” Maria lied. “It’s just for intimidation.” She gave the old man a wink.
“That wasn’t all of them!” a voice said, freezing them to the spot. “There was a witch with a sword, and another old man.”
“Are you sure?”
The voices grew closer. Maria gripped Castro and pulled him roughly into an alleyway; this one was paved. As they grew closer to the center of the town, so were the streets.
“Don’t question me,” the Dragon Tongue bellowed. “Or I’ll rip your forked tongue straight from your mouth, Hex.”
The one named Hex replied, “I’m sorry, Hunter.”
Hunter continued, “I want the gates guarded around the clock. If four of them found their way in, then there will be more—perhaps a whole army of those damn so-called good witches and wizards. I will not have anything stand in the way of raising our master. Do you understand me, Hex?”
“Y-Yes, sir,” Hex answered. He sounded beyond frightened.
“If there is another slip-up, I will have not only your tongue, but also your eyes. The last thing you’ll ever see is my blade, just before I pry them from your empty head!”
The voices grew ever closer. We have to get out of here before our cover is blown. Maria took a shuffling step back, and her ankle suddenly twisted as she landed on Castro’s deerskin moccasin.
“Ow,” he said much too loudly.
The steps coming up the paved road stopped. Maria’s blood stilled in her veins, and her hand found the hilt of her sword. She swung her messenger bag out of the way, noting the music box’s hefty weight. Part of her mind told her she didn’t hear their footfalls anymore because they’d crossed from the paved part of the road onto the dirt, but that, she knew, was wishful thinking.
To further solidify that point, Hunter said, “Did you hear that?”
“From there,” Hex said.
Maria could picture the cloaked men pointing at the alley.
Castro tugged on Maria’s sleeve. She whipped her head around and saw him pointing at something in the middle of the pavement. It was a rectangular metal slab.
“The sewer?” she asked.
He looked at her, confused. Right, different worlds. Instead, he waved her forward as he walked the few steps toward it, and pried the slab of metal up and out of the pavement.
“I’ll check it out,” Hex said, his voice nasally. Then Maria heard the sound of a sword unsheathing, of metal scraping.
“Let’s go,” Castro said, so quiet his voice was barely a whisper.
Maria’s sword was halfway out of its own sheath, but she let it fall back in, preparing to move.
As she turned toward the sewer, the smell engulfed her.
Guess sewers smell bad no matter what world I’m on; another universal truth to add to the travelogue.
Unlike the post office bin they’d been trying to hide out in, the sewer offered enough room for both of them to fit, even if they went side by side. She shook her head and plugged her nose, then went first down the ladder rungs that were built directly into the dug out wall. Castro went next.
Maria landed in the muck with a splash. Thank God I decided to put on boots before we came through the portal. Above, the sewer cover scraped the pavement quietly, covering their tracks. Maria was reminded of the scraping sound that a crypt makes when sliding open. The thought was enough to give her chills.
Once the cover closed completely, they were engulfed in utter blackness. It was almost as bad as the Cave of Delusion.
“Wish I had a match,” Castro said. “Though I’m not completely sure I want to see what’s down here.”
Muffled voices sounded above. “I’ll check behind, boss.”
It was Hex. He sounded quite relieved that there was no one to fight.
Yeah, you lucky bastard. I would’ve made you pay for taking my family from me. I will still make you pay. Just you wait.
Footsteps thundered on the pavement over their heads, then faded.
They were currently in the clear.
“Can we get to the dungeons from here?” Maria whispered. The smell touched her tongue, and she had to stifle a gag.
Castro didn’t answer.
“Castro?”
“I shrugged,” he said defensively.
“I’m not a cat, I can’t see in the dark. So you don’t know if we can get to the dungeons through here?”
“No. Do you think I spend most of my time down in this cesspool? Only the rats and Raffins do that.”
Maria groaned, her posture sagging. “Raffins? You gotta be kidding me.”
She patted her pockets for any sign of Milkbones; they were empty except for her cell phone—which was all but useless on Oriceran…she couldn’t even check the time—and a few loose items. Good. No Milkbones means I won’t have to worry about one of those things gnawing my face off.
Now that they were in the clear, Maria closed her eyes—or she thought she did. It made no difference, because all she saw was blackness. She focused her senses, much like Sherlock had done when he found Maria in the post office, and drew upon the magic at the planet’s core, feeling it ripple through her arms and legs, letting it blaze in her chest. When she opened her eyes, the blackness was gone, and a low blue glow lit up the sewer. Tunnels stretched in every direction. The walls were made of multicolored brick, sweaty with condensation and muck. On each side of the running, grayish water, were ledges to stand on; once the two realized this, they hopped up onto them.
Maria looked down
