Eventide - VII
Chapter VII
"It's a wonder you survived long enough for me to spare your pathetic life. I can hardly imagine that you have ever raised a finger, let alone performed a day's work!" Illatryx grumbled into the otherwise empty room, as she tried without success to ignore the vixen scurrying about nearby. At the sound of a clatter, the rat whipped about, yelling, "Gods be damned, wench! If you so much as upset a single bottle again, I will be giving you to the guards for the night!"
Valencia nodded dumbly, her ears falling back in fear as she quietly replied, "S-sorry--"
"Mistress! I am sorry, mistress!" Barked the irate rat before the word could even leave her tongue. Taking a slow breath, Illatryx cradled her head in her paws and glared into the great stony basin that stood before her, filled to the brim with dark, clouded water.
"It was there; though weak, I could see it--feel it. I watched him bear it towards the old marshes, and yet know it has disappeared from the currents! It is days from that damnable abbey, so why is it lost to me again?" She seethed, striking the calm surface with a paw that set up a cascade of steaming fluid that hissed and bubbled as it splattered upon the floor of the dimly lit cavern.
Glancing up from the myriad bottles, the contents of which were as varied as their shapes, Valencia asked quietly, "What is, mistress?"
Too caught up in her own tirade to notice the girl's interruption, Illatryx continued. "The stone--damn it all, the very key to all of this! It's impossible to hide from my Seeing; not without the Gift, which the boy has no trace of." Trailing off, she slumped onto a pile of tattered and threadbare cushions that lay sprawled within a nearby corner. She chewed a hang claw as she mused, oblivions as Valencia went about her work nearby. "No, it's not him. It's the fae. It doesn't flow as it should; the currents within the marsh shift constantly, following no pattern or reason. But ever since the fall of the Seventh House those fools have stayed away, claiming it cursed. Something must be controlling it, but there are none left alive who wield that much power!"
Valencia froze. At first she thought she had simply misheard the rat, yet at memories of that tragic night rushed back to her, she knew them to be one and the same. "She mentioned it, too; the Seventh House, I mean. Why would--?"
Moving with the grace and agility that had once flowed through the body of the serving girl she now possessed, Illatryx appeared at the vixen's side in a flash. Then, white hot pain consumed Valencia's mind for but a moment, and as she regained her senses, she found herself fallen to the cold stone floor, her blood-soaked paw clutching the gash that ran across her cheek. It was all she could do to pick her shaking body up and look at the cruel visage of her mistress through tear-stained eyes.
"Go to your chambers. Leave me." Her voice held a sort of cold malevolence that sent Valencia running from the chamber.
Stumbling about in the endless warren of caverns, the vixen shied away in fear and disgust from the various creatures that served under her mistress. She could feel their eyes following her, seeking for even the faintest glimpse of what lay beneath her worn garments. It was not the first time that such a threat had been lain upon her, and in her heart she knew that the rat's words were no cruel jest--she would be theirs, mind, body, and soul, if her pitiless mistress so wished it.
As she skirted about a behemoth of a lizard, its sleek body glistening in the phosphorescent glow of lichen and fungi that grew rampant in the caverns, scaled flesh rippling over dense muscles as it tread through the halls, trailing the stink of death and rot in its wake, Valencia caught sight of a faint crack that ran along the far wall. She waited until the beast had disappeared about the gentle curvature of the passageway before padding over to the strange gap.
Upon her approach, Valencia spied a faint smear of light emanating from the hairline crack, barely visible as it splashed across the dull stone floor. Her curiosity aroused, the vixen glanced about herself to make certain she wasn't being watched and knelt beside the thin shaft of light.
Valencia started as the voices of two guards could be heard approaching from nearby. Rising swiftly, the vixen upset herself and, holding out her paws to keep from smashing into the near wall, instead found herself thudding painfully to the floor for a second time that day. Groaning, she sat upright and took in her surroundings.
Rather than the passage leading back towards her quarters, Valencia found herself inside a small room, little more than a rough-walled alcove carved into the living stone. No more than a dozen paces wide, the space was illuminated by strange, glowing orbs that hung suspended from the stalactites that grew from the cavern's ceiling like jagged fangs. Valencia could just barely make out a rock shelf in the shadowy light cast by the globular clusters, its surface covered in well-worn velvet and a small collection of old cushions.
It was not the strange place, the obscure markings written and carved upon the walls, or the collection of dirty tomes piled in the corner that caught her eye. Instead, Valencia felt herself drawn towards the visage of a little hand-sewn doll that lay to one side of the odd bed. Made in the shape of a rat, it looked to be a child's toy. The vixen lifted it gingerly in her paws, gazing upon the small, frail object with reverence. Though the fabric of its ears and limbs was worn, the buttons of its eyes scuffed, and its whiskers frayed and creased, the loving craftsman-ship of the doll was not only evident, but filled Valencia with a sense of security and comfort that she had not felt in what felt to have been many years.
Clutching the doll to her bosom, she moved away from the forgotten place, looking back over her shoulder at the way she had come. Behind her, the wall was still solid stone and left little explanation as to how she had found her way there. Valencia trusted to fate, and, closing her eyes, strode forth, stopping only as she felt herself brush against solid stone. Once more she stood in the wide passage. Without so much as a glance back, Valencia made her way to her chambers in silence.