Page 81 of Wraithwound

She was so close to finding answers, perhaps she could offer some insights, and maybe in turn, somehow, Taya would agree to help with her mother’s diary. She had to remind herself she wasn’t alone. Cross was with her, the eleuth was with her, and together they would ensure her safety.

Lena nodded slowly, and a smile appeared on Leonid’s face. He led them from the room and further into the passageway. Crystals lit their way, becoming more numerous the further down they went.

He turned down another passageway that veered left and opened to an enormous space beyond. A dining hall. The soft murmur of conversation melded with clinks and tings of silverware jousting with metal trays. Each of the large wooden tables was full of people, some young, some old, and others in between. Only a few weary faces looked up to examine the newcomers, but most were focused on their meals or each other.

Cross’s expression was unreadable as he stared into the room beyond, taking in the faces of those whose gaze snagged on his.

“Many of the families whose loved ones survived the infection chose to stay, and we do our best to accommodate them,” Leonid said and continued past the arched entrance.

They walked a bit further, the temperature around them dropping as they continued to descend. Finally, he approached another door and knocked.

A small man stood inside, very much in contrast to the cavernous space. This one was full of glass jars, vials full of colorful liquids, steaming crucibles, and so many plants. Papers filled with sketches covered many of the exposed surfaces. Most of them depicted plants, while others contained scribbles or strings of numbers, but all were stained in one way or another. Lena recognized the perfect circle of a teacup on one of the papers, while another sported red tinged drops.

“Dauen, this is Lena and her friend, Cross. Would you mind showing them the serum you and the others have been working on?” Leonid asked, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Dauen said shuffling towards the center of the room. He was hunched over slightly, probably from too many hours spent poring over his work. As he shuffled over, Lena caught a glimpse of the tattoo inked on his hand, almost concealed by the dark tone of his skin. A twisted letter “S” curled over a long thin letter “H,” indicating he’d matriculated from Reimar’s Schola of Healing, the innovative and experimental academy. Her mother’s hand had sported the same marking since she’d been a part of one of the last classes to graduate from the school before the city fell.

Dauen reached the center of the room and pointed to a series of glass jars and vials that were connected by thin tubing suspended on metal stands. At the bottom of a particularly large jar were what appeared to be ground herbs. The solution the herbs were being steeped in was siphoned off into another container, and the trace of green from the original solution had leached away. She followed the connective tubing between the jars and vials to find the final product: a viscous clear liquid that dripped into an ampule.

“We start with leaves of mystara, which has uses for things like sedation, pain management, and has a mild paralytic effect. After a series of complicated dilutions, we found that it was effective in slowing the rate of transformation for those infected by wraiths,” he said succinctly. “We think the healing properties of the plant bind to the infection and slow it down.”

Lena was fascinated, staring at the complicated set-up of jars, vials, and tubes and the process of dilution that yielded such a miraculous substance.

“How did you come to discover that this particular process would yield viable results?” she asked, unable to help herself.

“We had some help. The rest was a lot of trial and error,” he said, smiling sadly.

Cross stared at the medicine collecting slowly in the vial, shoulders tense. Lena wondered if the possibility of a cure shifted his perspective on his oath as a soulbound.

“Thank you,” Leonid interjected when the silence stretched between them, “we’ll let you get back to it.”

Lena nodded, tearing her gaze away from the work that was being done in the fully functioning lab. Lena had only ever heard of the labs at Schola from her mother, but seeing one in person stirred the healer inside her. Cross didn’t so much as look at the old healer before he turned and strode toward the door.

“There is one last thing I’d like to show you,” Leonid said, holding the door open for them.

Leonid led them down passageway after passageway. Lena lost track of how many turns they’d taken, but it didn’t escape her that they were still descending further into the earth where it continued to get colder and the blue-white crystals grew scarce. Finally, they reached a metal gate that sealed off the passageway. The rusted bars were as thick as her arms, and at the center was a solid metal door. Leonid reached for a barely lit torch on the wall and held it up to the gate’s lock. Using the keys on his belt, he unlocked the heavy door and dragged it open. Stepping past the threshold, he beckoned them forward, but Lena hesitated.

“What’s in there?” she asked.

Was this where they intended to put her? She stared beyond the threshold and into the darkness. And then she felt a peculiar tug in her gut, something inside beckoning her in. To step beyond the dim glow of the torch. She found she already knew the answer.

“The people, Lena,” he said, extending the torch to the space behind him. “It’s unfortunate we must keep them down here, but it keeps them safe and us safe too.”

He turned to walk further into the depthless dark.

Lena looked to Cross, wondering when she’d come to trust him so deeply. He nodded. He wouldn’t let them cage her down here. Tentatively, she stepped past the threshold and followed Leonid. Cells lined both sides of the passageway, and she realized there must be hundreds of them, going back as far as the eye could see.

He led her to one of the cells near the opening and held up the torch. As her eyes adjusted, she spotted a woman crouched toward the back of the space.

“She was just brought in here yesterday. Asked to be brought down here actually,” Leonid said softly. “Laney. A friend has come to see you.”

Lena’s blood ran cold.

“Laney?” Lena repeated, the word both familiar and foreign on her tongue.

At the sound of her name, Laney looked up and approached the bars. It was all Lena could do to hold in her gasp of horror as Laney drew closer, squinting against the dim light of the torch.

“Lena? Is that you?” Her voice was partially distorted, but then she cleared her throat, and it was Laney’s smiling voice. “You made it! It’s so nice to see you again.”