FHC B2 Chapter 59: After the Underground (Patreon)

I lowered my hand and turned away. They were gone; the job was done. My heart continued to thump, but I shut it out and forced my emotions to settle. Or rather, distill into something manageable.

In the end, a cold rage dripped down, and I stored it away for when I needed it. There'd be time to get revenge.

Alice patted my shoulder. I met her eyes. She didn't say anything, but it was comforting nonetheless. Beside her were the journals; I grabbed them while she took position behind me. It was easier with my one-handed axe, so I led,

As we got further from the room, I sniffed the air and sneezed. The air was faint, but fresh air wafted through—not fresh like nature's, but a breeze that beat the stuffy air inside the stairwell.

Eventually, we stopped, and Alice peeked from behind me.

"What's wrong?" Alice asked.

I turned so she could see, revealing the iron door blocking the way. She frowned and lowered the orb so it wasn't right in my eyes.

"Locked?"

I tried turning the nodded and tugged, but it wouldn't come free. "Yeah, but mind taking a step back?"

She moved lower and raised an eyebrow.

I stared at the door and let the anger still simmering underneath rise up. I punched, denting the metal even as my knuckles ached. Again, I punched and punched until it dented inward. That wasn't enough; I rammed my shoulder into it, creating a high-pitch creak that pissed me off.

As I rammed it again, I reached up, grabbed the door's lip, and pulled. The metal bent as my muscles strained.

Until finally, the something gave, and the door came free. The lack of tension surprised me and I accidentally tossed the door behind me. Alice flattened against the wall while glaring.

Oops.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly.

"It's fine. Let's get out of here," she replied.

We moved past the door into the final bit of stairs until we came to a stop underneath a cellar of some kind. I tugged on the handle of the square door above us, and it came free, wood and all. I rubbed my fingers free of the rotten wood and covered my nose.

It wasn't the best smell in the world, but the fresh air that flooded in made up for it. Mold and mildew surrounded the room above, but we could finally take a deep breath. I hopped up first and had Freki dive out and guard us, just in case. I helped Alice up after she tossed her axe and stood, inspecting the room.

Old.

Wherever we were, it was old, dusty, and abandoned. Spiderwebs covered the dust-covered furniture, and the windows had a film so thick it filtered the light to pinpricks.

Freki sniffed around and darted through the small house but returned with a negative.

"We're safe. Wherever we are," I said.

Alice had moved to the bedroom where a single twin-sized bed stood connected to a nightstand lined with picture frames. The frames were shattered. She wiped the dust off with her shirt and frowned as she held it up.

Instead of a picture, a dark brown stain spread from the top frame to the bottom. She lowered the frame and picked up another. Three in total, each one destroyed and ruined like the last.

She sniffed but shook her head. "I thought it was blood, but all I smell is mold and dust."

I searched the other rooms, the living room, and the kitchen, but nothing was noteworthy. The cabinets were empty, no plates, silverware, nothing. The living room had a ratty couch and a single coffee table but other than that, was a barren room with little else.

Freki jumped back into my shadow, and I grabbed the journals I had set down. "We'll tell Devon and Garret when we find them. Do we return to the Baathan estate or the bakery?"

"Estate. The crone sent us there, and the guards prevent them from running."

Works for me.

I pushed the door open, exposing bright daylight. From the sun's position, it was noon. We had been underground for much longer than I thought, but that left plenty of daylight to spend.

We walked through the streets and occasionally people would recognize us and react but for the most part, people continued on their way. Eventually we turned a street and my stomach rumbled loud enough to scare an old woman passing by.

I waved awkwardly and found Alice chuckling.

You know what? We can waste a minute or two.

Alice yelped as I grabbed her hand and led her toward the smell. She followed along without resisting, and I dragged us across the streets until we stopped in front of a surprised old man about half our height. Beside him, steaming soft buns floating along a shallow pool of savory sauce and spices drew my attention.

"How much?" I asked, ignoring the man's wide eyes.

"F-four copper for two, sir," he replied, regaining his composure.

I tossed a silver down and grinned. He shrunk back, and I sighed. "I'll take the lot."

He nodded furiously and pocketed the silver while avoiding eye contact. Alice shook her head, and I shrugged.

Nearly five minutes later, the man closed his stall and bowed while we walked away with our arms full. The food vendor had wrapped the packets of buns in wax paper and handed us paper thin bowls made of some kind of shell to dip them in.

I had already scarfed down a dozen before sighing contentedly. The happiness lasted for a few seconds before my smile dropped.

It tasted like ash in my mouth and I nearly set it on fire.

"Still angry?" Alice asked as she nudged me.

"Yeah, I am."

"Good."

I blinked. "Really?"

"What we saw down there deserves death. It's good that you're angry," she said coldly.

"I'll kill them. Whoever they are."

She said nothing as we finished the last of the buns. By the time we finished, we were only a turn away from the estate and I found the nearest trash can to stuff with the used wrappers.

"Ready? If Devon's not there, we'll have to interrogate her," I asked.

"Works for me."

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We walked up to the gate, and a guard raised his sword. I pushed the gate open and walked in, raising a hand to my mouth.

"Marcus! Over here!" I shouted.

Marcus rushed toward us and saluted. "Sir! You've returned. What of sir Devon?"

I frowned.

That means he's not back yet. Alright.

"We got separated. And the tunnel we investigated contained some traps. We're here to find out why."

Marcus turned grim. "What do you require, sir?"

"Guard the entrance, grab some guards, find Garret, and send another to the bakery we investigated."

He snapped another salute and got to work, leaving us alone at the entrance.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Alice replied.

We pushed inside and found a pair of guards at the end of the hall. They must have recognized us since they quickly bowed.

"Is the old lady inside?" I called out.

The first guard raised his head. "You mean lady Baathan?"

"Yeah."

"She is, sir! She hasn't left the room since sir Marcus stationed us here."

Good.

"Let us through."

They stepped to the side, and I approached but stopped as I got closer. I sniffed, and instincts took over.

I pulled out my axe and summoned a flame. The guards freaked out, but Alice hefted her weapon.

"Si-sir?" the first guard stammered.

"Stay still. Don't move," I ordered.

They complied, becoming statues, and I moved slowly to the door.

Closer up, I could taste it on my tongue. Blood filled the air, and I tightened my grip on my axe.

I kicked the door open and paused at the entrance.

Well damn.