“Wait—it’s you,” said Gwen, with an ounce of hope, “Please, get me out of here!”

  Akello stammered. “Wh—what do I do?”

  “The chains!”

  A stream of thick iron chains led into the ground. Akello pulled, but they didn’t budge.

  “That won’t work,” Gwen exclaimed, “you’ll have to try and break them. Look for something heavy.”

  Akello swept the torch through the darkness. The crackle of the flame echoed against the cold stone walls. It didn’t take long for him to find a heavy stone nearby. When he stepped forward, Akello heard a large snap. The torch illuminated what had broken: the remains of a skeletal corpse. The noise echoed far down into the tunnels of the crypt.

  A shriek answered.

  Gwen’s eyes widened, “It’s coming!”

  Akello quickly mustered all of his strength to lift the chunk of rock and smash it against Gwen’s chains. But they didn’t break.

  Another splitting cry came from the darkness. This time it was louder.

  Gwen grabbed Akello tightly, “Go! Save yourself!”

  “What is it?” asked Akello.

  “A creature from the depths of the Taker’s hell.” she exclaimed, “Leave, now!”

  Akello frowned. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  The chamber went silent. The torch crackled. The dim light flickered, revealing almost nothing. Then there was a sound, squeaking, and a thousand tiny feet pattering right towards them, getting louder. Gwen grabbed Akello by the back of his shoulders and hid behind, trying not to scream, when a thousand tiny red eyes emerged from the darkness.

  A sea of rats rushed by their feet.

  Akello flinched at the cold, soggy fur brushing against his legs. He tried to swat them away with his torch, which hardly worked. Closer than ever, the dissonant shriek echoed from the tunnel. Gwen started to mutter a prayer under her breath. Akello could feel her soft hands clutching deep into him, shaking. It would’ve been too easy for Akello to set off into the tunnel. Gwen would probably delay the creature for long enough to make his escape. But, for Akello, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

  He had to free her. “Hold this,” he said, handing the torch over to Gwen. Without flinching, he thrust his hands into the swarm of black rats and found the large, beige hunk of stone. He held it high in the air and threw it hard down onto the exposed chain.

  This time it was more effective, tearing halfway through one of the iron links. But the stone shattered in two. Akello reached down, feeling the rats run across his hands, some of them into his robes, and he pulled as hard as he could to free her.

  “Almost there!” he reassured, putting all of his weight against the iron, feeling so close to freedom.

  And Gwen gasped. “It’s here.”

  Akello looked up. A shadow moved through a slither of moonlight shining into the tunnel. Then, he saw red eyes shining from the darkness, larger than the rest. The torch light caught the beast’s wet fur, revealing a crooked, hairy figure. It was of man shape, but bigger. Keeled over, walking on all fours. The figure stopped only metres ahead, and Akello could make out a sharp snout reaching out of its face—twitching and sniffing until it stopped.

  The Rat King had found its prey.

  It was then Akello recognised the smell of stinking death that the creature brought with it. With a strong tug, he finally freed Gwen, and they ran into the darkness. The Rat King followed closely behind.

  The tunnel seemed to go on forever. Akello and Gwen ran fast, swooping left and right through a maze of dark and wet stone. The Rat King’s stench was only inches behind them. Akello noticed that Gwen was barefoot, bruised, and weak. He made sure to keep her ahead. He was quick, but the Rat King was faster.

  A sharp claw cut through Akello’s ankle. He fell, clattering against the stone floor. He turned to see sharp, yellow teeth glowing in the firelight. A rotten stench, dripping saliva, biting at him.

  Akello tried his hardest to push the Rat King’s jaws away from his face.

  But his strength was fading.

  A spark and a shriek. The Rat King flinched violently as Gwen plunged the torch into its face. Akello stood up in an attempt to shield her. The Rat King hovered just out of the torch light, waiting, its red eyes glowing.

  Akello took a step back, and the floor collapsed.

  They landed in a stream of dirty water, several feet below. When he resurfaced, it was pitch black, eerily quiet, with only the sound of splashing water around them. Akello suddenly realised he couldn’t swim, and thrashed about in the water desperately searching for a bank or ledge he could hold on to.

  “Help!” He called out to the darkness. No response. Akello was rapidly tiring himself out, swallowing thick and dirty water with every splash. As he was about to sink under the water, he felt a soft hand grab his wrist, pulling him out onto the shore. Coughing water, he regained his breath in relief.

  “Are you alright?” Gwen asked, and Akello suddenly became very embarrassed.

  He shot up and cleared his throat. “I’m fine!” He urged.

  As his breathing slowed, his eyes adjusted to the dark. He looked around, cringing at the sight of the Rat King’s red eyes, looking down on them from high above. Slowly, the monster slipped out of sight. They sat in scared silence for a few minutes before one of them finally spoke.

  “I think it’s gone,” said Gwen.

  “For now,” said Akello, “what was that thing?” still looking up, waiting for the creature to reappear.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Gwen said at last.

  It was clear they’d landed in some sort of sewage tunnel, from the smells and sounds and stone walls around them. They were different from the ones above, less ancient. Several rays of moonlight shone down from cracks along the tunnel, catching on the dark, running water below. There was just enough light for Akello to make out his surroundings.

  “Here, you’ve got something on your—” Gwen brushed a damp vine from Akello’s sodden cloak.

  Akello smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, “for saving me.”

  Akello looked upon the young woman in front of him. Her curly hair was shining wet, fairly short. Her green eyes caught every bit of light, with her constellation of freckles, like a sprinkle of cinnamon. She looked relieved.

  “Well, if you remember, you just saved me,” said Akello.

  She chuckled. “I’m Gwen.”

  “Akello,” he replied, “I remembered you from earlier. Why were you all chained up?”

  She looked away. “The High Seeker. Sun-sisters have been going missing for months—each one after some small error. He said he was transferring them to other temples around the provinces, and I sent letters, but I never heard anything back. My friend, Darcy, she—”

  “Darcy? Darcilla, you mean?” Akello remarked, “I saw her name on a vial of red liquid in the High Seeker’s office. Now that I think of it, I saw yours too.”

  “I remember, yes, he took some of my blood…” Gwen explained, “You were in the High Seeker’s office?”

  “Yeah,” Akello chuckled lightly, “ I had my own little mistake this evening. Come on, let’s get out of here before that thing finds a way down to us.”

  A half hour passed as they made their way back down the tunnels. They walked across a thin band of stone bordering the stream. It was slick and mossy, and Akello had to concentrate not to slip. Gwen trailed close behind, and she started to shiver after a few minutes. Akello offered her his top, but she declined, as it would have been just as cold and damp as what she already had on. Akello huffed quietly to himself.

  They’d started to dry slightly as the amount of old stone started to increase along the walls. Akello figured that meant they must’ve been close to Solon’s chamber. He tried his best to relight the torch with the flint in his pouch, but the wood was still quite damp.

  “So, why are you dressed like a Sun Seeker?” Gwen asked.

  Akello took a moment to think of what to say, eventually settling on the truth. “I’m looking for something down here.”

  “Down here?” she echoed.

  “Yes. So I’m just borrowing this.” he ruffled his soggy robes, “I need to get to Solon’s chamber.”

  “I could help you find it.” said Gwen, “I was raised here.”

  “In the sewers?” Joked Akello.

  “In the temple.” she corrected, “I was taken from the orphanage as a baby and raised to be a Sun Sister.”

  Akello looked back with a hint of pity.

  “The old High Seeker, Fendrian—he was kind to me. Taught me how to read, how to pray, how to sew,” Gwen smiled to herself, “he was a funny old man. He used to be a soldier, and had this great scar across his cheek from the Osslandic Invasion.”

  “Your old priest fought the Osslandic?” Akello frowned as he struggled to relight the torch.

  “Yes, at the battle of Sunrise,” she explained, “He used to tell the story after dinner. The brown, wet mud, the mist stained with blood and screams. When all seemed lost, he said a bright ray of sunshine shone down on the battlefield, inspiring the troops. And he knew it was Solon. It brought them to victory.”

  “I thought Sir Paul Featherly brought them to victory when he killed Black Ivar in single combat,” said Akello.

  “After the ray of sunshine,” Gwen corrected, almost winking. Finally, Akello exclaimed in joy when he relit the torch, and the sewers were illuminated. The firelight shone bright against Gwen’s red hair. “What about you, Akello,” she asked, “where are you from? I can tell it’s not here.”

  “How?”

  “Everyone in Port Albert knows how to swim.” She chuckled.

  “I know how to swim!” Akello exclaimed, flustered. “I’ve just never been in water that deep.”

  “Wait until you see the ocean!”

  They carried on walking for a short while. Akello felt embarrassed chills and warm cheeks, but Gwen didn’t seem to pry.

  “Solon’s chamber will be down here,” she said.

  “What happened to the old High Seeker then?” Akello asked, “And what’s wrong with the new one?”

  Gwen sighed. “Well, you’ve met him. Fen passed away a few years ago, and Seeker Braithwaite took over. He didn’t speak much until his ascension…now he’s leading sermons to hundreds. I’ve never seen the temple so full, which is great, but…” she hesitated.

  “But what?”

  “I don’t know,” Gwen wondered, “I just can’t help but feel like his sermons feel more like rallies.”

  Akello thought back to the fishwife’s face during the mass. “I know what you mean.”

  They stopped by an iron ladder, which led up into darkness. Akello looked up, then back to the stretch of sewer in both directions to the side.

  “That’ll take you up to Solon’s chamber.” Said Gwen with confidence, “I’m sure whatever you’re looking for will be up there.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “And so will the monster.” Akello remarked.

  “It’s either up and out, or down to the sea from where we came.” Said Gwen.

  Akello tried to be noble. “You should go. I can’t let you face that beast again.”

  “You’re telling me this now?” Gwen blurted, “What, you’re going to face it on your own with your fists?”

  Akello struggled for words. The echo of dripping water filled the silence.

  “Look,” Gwen said with conviction, “I’ve spent my whole life in this temple lighting candles and praying for a God I have never seen. I thought I was doing my part to make the world a little better, but for the last two years I’ve been working for a man who keeps a rat monster in the basement. And my reward? To become its supper. Whatever you’re looking for up there, if it’s going to deal a blow to that rotten old man, I want to help.”

  After a moment, Akello smiled. “Okay, I’ll go first.”

  The trap door led back to one of the stone tunnels. Akello checked in every direction for signs of the Rat King, but there was only black silence in both directions. He carefully pulled himself up, before helping Gwen.

  “This way.” Gwen quietly gestured, and they started further down the stone tunnel. Akello’s heart was in his throat, and every so often he’d spot red eyes watching him from the darkness, only to realise it was a hot spark from his torch. Gwen walked confidently ahead. Queer noises came sporadically from all sides—a snap or a thud. Several times, Akello was sure the beast was going to be upon them. But every time, as the sound would echo past them, they would cautiously continue on.

  Finally, they reached a large stone door. It was circular — similar to the one upstairs, decorated with engravings of Solonite symbols and figures. Gwen stood aside, gesturing to Akello to go ahead. He obliged, rolled up his sleeves, and pushed open the stone door with all his strength.

  The torchlight revealed the magnificence of the tomb. It was large and dome-shaped, weathered and ruined. Collapsed stone hung from the ceiling. Piles of rubble littered the floor. There was a stillness to the place, as if untouched for years, like every step unsettled long unmoved flakes of dust. Several great columns supported the chamber along the edges, leading to a platform at the front with five statues—all double the size of a man, and all depicting the same character in five different positions.

  “It’s him,” said Gwen. “Solon.”

  The figures depicted a handsome and athletic young man with wavy hair. “Why are there five of him?” Akello asked.

  “The statues depict the five stages of his life here on Utopa.”

  From left to right, she named them: “The Traveller, The Saviour, The Warrior, The Prophet, The Martyr.”

  “Seems like he was very productive.” Said Akello.

  “The Suncaller arrived with all the power to level the planet, but he spent his time here spreading words of love and kindness.”

  “Didn’t he help the Arbols invade Solis?”

  “Yes, as is signified by the Warrior statue, but only because he was tricked by King Valdrian. When Solon found out, he left.” Gwen explained, “he spent the rest of his days with his wife and son, using his sunlight to put on shows for children.”

  Akello noticed that Gwen wore a reminiscing smile as she looked upon the statues. She suddenly turned to him. “So, what are we looking for?”

  Akello thought back to the pirate’s letter. “I guess it has to be something to do with the statues. The letter says that she would ‘know where to find it’.” He walked over to examine each statue.

  Gwen frowned. “The letter? Which letter?”

  “I found a cavern with the decayed corpse of Jack Fairway’s lover. She had letters pointing her to Fairway’s treasure.” Akello said, running his hands along the Traveller statue. It showed Solon standing naked above what looked like a shipwreck. But it didn’t look like any sort of ship Akello had ever seen.

  “The pirate, Jack Fairway?” Gwen asked, “I’ve heard that he once came through Port Albert. Must’ve been a hundred years ago.”

  “And he came down here to leave the next clue for Dayani.” Said Akello, and Gwen raised an eyebrow. Akello turned back to her. “That was his lover’s name. She was a concubine for some Banjari King or something. Long story.”

  Gwen thought to herself for a moment. “So he left it in here? That’s impossible, one of the Seekers would’ve found something.”

  Akello climbed up onto the Traveller statue and started to prod at different parts of Solon’s face. “Maybe, but the letters got her so far, and Fairway escaped, so there has to be something…”

  Suddenly, Akello’s finger pressed into the stone eye of Solon’s statue. A loud mechanical noise sounded, and Akello’s eyes lit up with excitement.

  Gwen screamed. “Watch out!”

  A giant rusted scythe came storming down from a hidden compartment in the ceiling. Akello leapt. The scythe crashed into the statue, and Akello fell into a pile of rubble. He looked up to see Solon’s stone head falling onto him. He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid it. The sound of the crash was like thunder, echoing through the earth itself. When the dust cloud settled, the Traveller statue was no more.

  “Are you okay?!” Gwen cried desperately as she ran to help him.

  Akello wiped himself off, covered in beige dust. “I’m fine, I’m fine. But I bet the whole town will have heard that.”

  “And the rat.”

  “Exactly. So we should hurry up.”

  Gwen looked back up at the statues. “What did you do?”

  “I pressed into the eye. That must’ve been the trick.”

  “But these statues have been here for hundreds of years, how would Fairway have set up the booby trap?”

  Akello got up and walked back towards the statues. “I don’t know, but he must’ve been quite the engineer. The real question is: which one has the letter? What did you say each one was called again?”

  “The Traveller, The Saviour, The Warrior, The Prophet, The Martyr.”

  Akello studied each one closely. The Traveller was a pile of rubble. The Saviour depicted Solon in soft flowing robes, flying in a heroic position. The Warrior showed him in heavy armour with a stern expression. Most appealing was Solon as The Prophet; smiling warmly and preaching as if it were directly to Akello and Gwen. The most tragic was Solon as The Martyr, strung up, waiting to be executed.

  “Was the pirate a Solonite?” Said Gwen.

  “A sun-follower? Not explicitly.”

  “Well, maybe Dayani was?”

  “It seems unlikely, she was Banjari.” Akello’s eyes were darting over each statue repeatedly. “It has to be something to do with her.”

  He thought back to the letters, to every detail he could remember. At first he wished he would’ve brought them with him, but he was glad they weren’t soaked from when he fell into the sewer. There had to be something he’d missed, something that Dayani would have instantly recognised when she descended into the chamber, something so easy that Fairway wouldn’t have had to give her a clue.

  And suddenly it came to him.

  Akello remembered a passage from the latest letter: “You’ve saved me, my love, and I’ll spend the rest of my life a peaceful and changed man.”

  Akello climbed up the statue and pressed into its eye. He shuddered as the mechanical noise began to sound again.

  But this time, the Saviour statue was not struck by a giant scythe. Instead, it made a low humming noise and started to vibrate. Akello hopped off, and watched as the figure began to split in two, opening like a book.

  Inside was a small envelope sealed with a wax stamp. It was marked “My love” on the front.

  “Wow,” Said Gwen in disbelief, “a letter.”

  Akello opened the envelope. Inside, it read:

  My love,

  I have spent the winter in this wretched port town. By now, I hoped I would’ve been out on the waves, but the winds have been strong, and the storms frequent. We managed to lose the Sunsworn for a while when we left the mountains. I think they thought I would go south to Alta Flora. The time has given me enough space to lay out this little puzzle, to protect my secrets from any Torchies. I hope you didn’t find it much trouble.

  I was hoping that you might’ve caught up with me by now. It feels like years since I last wrote to you, and I’m praying to every God that you made it through the mountains. I hope you managed to get through before winter. The Illilli stone has brought me comfort from my worries, and I spend much of my evenings staring into its sweet glow. I can’t wait for you to experience its pleasures…

  Anyhow, I’m off on the morrow, I’ve managed to hire a boat with passage to the Strait of Solis, the last stop before the Great Deep. I’ll leave my next letter for you in the ruins of Castle Paramour, right down in the main chamber. It seemed fitting to leave a note for you in the palace of history’s most famous lovers. I’ve also left you a Nightsilver sword, in case you need further protection out at sea. It can be dangerous on a ship.

  I promise, my love, you’re nearly there. I look forward to being with you. Follow the sunrise, and take care,

  Your Jack

  Akello noticed the sword, hidden around a corner in the inside of the statue. The scabbard was decorated in black and gold. There was something strange about it. A feeling came across Akello as his hand caressed the hilt. When he picked it up, he felt as if his eyes could see further into the dark, hear every tiny insect crawling around the tomb, and worryingly, from outside, he could hear heavy footsteps travelling straight for them.

  Akello turned to face the door.

  Gwen looked worried. “What is it?”

  A terrifying shriek called. The Rat King charged straight into the stone door. It didn’t break, but it was only a matter of time. Rats poured in through the cracks in the walls. Akello and Gwen started to panic. Akello felt her increasing heartbeat, her quickening breath, the moisture of her sweat starting to permeate through her skin.

  “Stay behind me,” he told her, and he drew the sword from its scabbard. Instantly, an intense sensation came over him, like an electricity in his fingers. The blade was slender and dark like a midnight jewel. Akello could almost hear a faint hum emanating from it, as if the sword were whispering to him. Strangely, the hall seemed brighter than it had been before. He felt the presence of the rats around him, and sensed Gwen’s dread as if it were his own. Everything felt sharper, clearer, more open.

  The Rat King crashed through the door.

  Emerging from the cloud of dust, Akello got his clearest view of the beast. It was dark brown, almost grey, muscled but also decaying. There were portions of exposed skin hanging down from its grotesque body. Akello could smell it so clearly. A strong scent of waste and blood hit his nostrils. The Rat King’s red eyes locked onto his.

  As Gwen stood behind him, holding the torch, Akello raised his sword to face the beast. As the Rat King charged, Akello felt calm.

  The ground shook.

  Akello dodged the rat’s claws. He cut through its pink skin.

  The Rat King stumbled and fell into the Saviour statue. When it emerged, its attention had turned to Gwen, who was now cowering behind a pillar.

  Akello called out to the beast, ushering it to come at him. He readied his blade, now stained red. But this time, the creature didn’t miss.

  Akello flew back, landing in a puddle of dark rats. The sword left his hand, and the world lost its newfound clarity. The rat was soon on top of him. Its immense weight pushed him back into the stone. Dripping yellow teeth snapped in front of his eyes.

  Akello watched as the Rat King’s claw pierced his shoulder. He cried out in seething pain as dark red blood began to pool out onto his dirty white robes.

  He plunged his fingers into the Rat’s eye. It squelched like gelatine, and the Rat lurched back in pain, giving Akello enough time to get up. The pain was unimaginable, but he’d felt worse. He reclaimed the sword, and the heightened senses returned. Akello could almost taste how much pain the rat felt as it shuddered back. In the lull before the next strike, Akello felt a strange connection to it, a shared pain.

  But it didn’t last long. He shouted angrily at the beast.

  The beast shrieked back. It charged, now with one eye leaking blood.

  It leapt, swiping its giant claw.

  Akello swung.

  The Rat King fell hard on the floor, and its severed arm hit the floor after it.

  “You did it!” Gwen called out from behind the pillar. “Quick, finish it!”

  But Akello felt no pride in his success. He could almost feel the point in his own arm where he’d cut the beast. Instead of anger, the Rat King now cried out in what Akello could only make out was fear. He felt that bizarre sense of connection that he’d felt before, but this time it was stronger. Akello recalled the pain of the thin man’s dagger going through his hand. He felt the Rat’s hunger, its desperation, its pain. When it called out again…

  Its scream sounded almost human.

  The Rat King got up, cowered away and retreated out of Solon’s chamber. Akello stood in a pool of blood, sweat and exhaustion. He collapsed to the floor, and Gwen rushed to his aid.

  “You did it!” She exclaimed proudly, “You scared it off!”

  “My—my shoulder!” Akello said with laboured breath. Gwen suddenly noticed the wound on his shoulder, and her happy expression suddenly turned worried.

  “You’re hurt!” She cried. Blood gushed like a leaking drainpipe. Akello went pale. He flinched and gargled in pain.

  “What do I do?” she asked worriedly.

  “I’m fine,” Akello replied, “I’ll be okay.”

  Gwen didn’t believe him. She looked back at the torch, still flickering on the floor, then back to Akello. “Wait here.”

  She brought back the torch. Its fire was lower now, and she blew it gently so there were only glowing embers. Akello panicked as he realised what she was about to do.

  Gwen took a sharp breath. “Be still, this is going to hurt.”

  Akello’s screams echoed through the chamber as his skin sizzled in the dim flame. She held it there for only a moment, then retracted it. Akello winced, breathing quickly and trying his best to appear as if he wasn’t in as much pain as he was, although he could tell Gwen saw through it.

  “You’re going to be okay.” She said reassuringly.

  Minutes passed as he lay there, cradled in her soft arms. Gwen brushed her hand through his hair. She looked tired, soggy and muddy, but even now, he thought to himself that she was a vision. Her freckles and green eyes danced in the firelight. Eventually, Akello’s laboured breathing began to soften.

  “It’s funny,” he muttered weakly, “I didn’t picture you a redhead.”

  She chuckled. “What did I seem like?”

  “I thought all the Sun Sisters were bald.” He joked.

  “Well, I think you’re about good enough to walk,” she smiled, “What do you say, should we get out of this rat’s nest?”

  Akello nodded. They stood up, made sure they had the sword and the letter, and made their way to the exit.

  The corridor was quiet on the way back. It felt shorter than before. Akello was sore, limping, but he felt his strength coming back to him as they continued. His robe was stained red, and the wound beneath had begun to harden into a small scar. Alfonso’s claim from before made Akello chuckle to himself. “All the best swordsmen have cool scars”. It was mad to think about. Only days before, he was struggling to fight a lord’s knight. Now, he’d just fought off a giant rat monster. If only the Sunsworn examiner had seen.

  Akello looked down at the Nightsilver sword in his hand. He thought about the feeling it had given him. As they began to climb the stone stairs, he thought about what the next stage of his journey would have in store for him.

  They reached the large circular door, and Gwen pushed it open. Their eyes adjusted to the light, and their hearts suddenly sank.

  The morning sun was starting to shine in through the doorway, shimmering against the armour of a dozen knights and guards stood waiting for them. A crowd of onlookers were behind, pouring into the temple from outside.

  In the centre, the High Seeker stood with a knowing grin on his crooked face. The red jewel on his necklace shone in the morning light. Gently, he raised his arms to address the people.

  “Look, children, the thieves have arisen.”