Though I had no idea what I was supposed to do, what I evencoulddo, against that abomination. Even if we killed the dragon, which already seemed like an impossible task—how did you killsomething that was already dead?—I doubted Vahn’s soul would be freed. The Deathless King would just bind it into something else, something even more horrible, and send it after us again.
Raithe drew me close once more. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “If there is a way to put him to rest and release his soul back to Maederyss, we’ll find it.”
I nodded shakily. “I’m grateful, Raithe,” I told him. “Thank you. I know he did horrible things to us, to you especially. But I still knew him. I can’t bear to think of him... trapped for eternity, in that rotting thing.”
“The soul is the most sacred thing in the world,” Raithe murmured. “Once your thread is cut, it must return to Maederyss, to be woven into a new life. A new thread added to the Weave. To forcibly bind a soul to the world when it is supposed to move on...” Raithe shook his head. “No one deserves that fate.”
The air in the tunnel changed. There was a soundlesspop, as if a bubble had burst, and the hulking form of Rhyne appeared in the middle of the passage.
“Maederyss’s mercy!” Halek’s voice echoed in the crystalized chamber. “What just happened? Where are we? Sparrow!”
I let go of Raithe as the Fatechaser leaped off Rhyne and hurried toward me. Still atop the rock beetle, Kysa peered around warily as Rhyne snorted and tossed his head as if to shake something off. I looked for the small rodent creature but didn’t see it.
Halek gave me a quick hug before pulling back and wincing at both me and Raithe. “Oh good, you’re both here. I’m glad no one was eaten by a terrifying undead dragon that sounded like the ma’jhet that kept tormenting us before. So, were you twoapproached by a small furry rat thing that talked to you and then just...” He made a motion like he was tossing sand into the air with both hands. “Poofed you away? Sorry, that’s the only word I can think of.”
“The word you are looking for isteleported,” Kysa said, sliding gracefully off Rhyne. “And yes, Halek, I think they saw us come in. A rock beetle appearing out of thin air is generally not something you can ignore.”
“Just wanted to make sure we all saw the same thing.” Halek wrinkled his nose at Kysa, then glanced at us again. “Even Fatechaser tales have limits to what people will believe. If I told this story at any tavern in Arkyennah, everyone would think I was either two drinks away from death or hallucinating on bitterdream leaf.” He shook his head, then raked a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “Also, not to comment on an already unbelievable situation, but... Are these tunnels made out ofglass?”
“Human creatures.”
I turned. The small rodent sat on a crystalized shelf on the opposite wall, peering down at us. Its huge ears and extremely long tail twitched as it regarded us with unblinking black eyes.
“Dead thing still looking for you,” it said. “Flesh beetles burrow through sand, searching. Look.”
It pointed its nose at the ceiling. I looked up and saw that the outside of the glass tube was crawling with black beetles. A muffled roar rang out, sounding far away but directly overhead.
“Quickly.” The rodent creature leaped off the shelf and landed nimbly on the slick floor of the tunnel. “This way. Follow Meeka. We go to home nest. Will be safe there.”
“Meeka?” I repeated, and it cocked its head at me. “Is that your name?”
“Yes.” It bobbed its head again. Now that it was closer, I got a good look at it. Its sandy-colored fur was highlighted with white on its chest, paws, and muzzle. The huge ears were tipped with black, as was the tuft of its tail. It was much larger than a mouse and yet, standing tall on its hind legs, it barely came up to my knees. It didn’t walk or run so much as it hopped, using its long back legs to propel itself over the ground like a desert hare.
I could also see, when it stood tall on its hind legs, that it was a male.
“Meeka is me,” the rodent creature said, twitching very long white whiskers. He bent to a pouch at his belt and pulled out what looked like a very tiny copper lantern. As I watched in fascination, he grabbed the end of his tufted tail and slid it through the ring at the top of the lantern, then shook the whole thing. A soft blue-white glow radiated from the tiny box, casting an eerie luminance through the tunnel.
“I will ask many questions, but not now,” Meeka said. “Later, when we are safe and closer to nest, I will ask. Come, we go now.”
And he hopped away, bouncing over the tunnel floor on two legs, his long tail held out behind him. He moved astonishingly fast, even though I suspected he wasn’t trying to outpace us, and we hurried to catch up, following a talking rodent through tunnels of glass, away from the rotting abomination that had once been the Guildmaster of Kovass.
Fourteen
“So, you mentioned there was a nest,” Halek said after we had walked for several minutes down the tunnel.
The glass tube wasn’t a straight line; it curved and twisted at odd intervals, sometimes getting wider, sometimes narrower. It also branched out at several intersections, different tunnels winding off into the darkness. It reminded me of what the inside of a termite nest might look like, if it were made of melted glass. I was worried that the rock beetles would get stuck, but our guide seemed to know which passageways were large enough for us all to fit through.
The rodent creature twitched an ear, glancing back at us. “Yes,” he said, and continued hopping forward. He did not elaborate. Either he was in too much of a hurry to catch the social cue, or he didn’t care.
Halek grimaced and jogged forward a few paces. “So, how many of you are there down here?” he asked, his voice relentlessly cheerful. “Are we talking a dozen, a few dozen, a few hundred? Did you build these tunnels, or were they always here? Also, how have I not heard anything about this? I mean, an entire race of magical, teleporting rats is something I would expect the Fatechasers to have wild legends about, but I haven’t heard even one story.”
“Meeka is not rat.” The creature continued to hop down thetunnel, not pausing or looking back this time, though his voice was indignant. “Name given to us by creator king wasjair’oa.”
“Creator king?” Beside me, Raithe frowned. “Are you talking about a Deathless?”
“Yes.”
Again, Meeka didn’t elaborate. I was starting to suspect that the jair’oa was going to answer questions only if asked directly, and not because he was being evasive—that was just how his mind worked.
