Page 91 of Feral Gods
Morwen's attention snaps to our movement, her power flaring in response. "Stop them!" she commands, purna and dark elf alike. "The girl must not leave with the Codex!"
Too late. Thane hurls a concealment orb Zaphyr's creation—that explodes in blinding light and disorienting smoke. In the ensuing confusion, we slip through the hidden fissure into a narrow passage beyond, Ravik sealing the entrance behind us with a controlled rockfall.
"This leads deeper beneath the mountain," Zephyr explains as we navigate the tight confines of the passage. "Eventually connecting with the vrakken tunnel network, if my calculations are correct."
"And if they're not?" Thane asks, bringing up the rear guard position.
"Then we've traded one dead end for another," Zephyr admits. "But with greater distance between ourselves and our pursuers."
The passage slopes downward, darkness deepening until only the natural glow from the gargoyles' transformed bodies provides illumination. The Codex in my arms emits its own subtle luminescence, its surface warm against my skin as knowledge continues transferring directly to my consciousness.
So much information—too much to process all at once. Fragments surface randomly: transformation principles that defy conventional magical understanding, resurrection techniques beyond anything Zephyr discovered, methods for reshaping reality itself through properly channeled wildspont energy.
And deeper, more personal knowledge: confirmation of my direct descent from Morwen, the circumstances of my mixed heritage, the reason my magical potential remained dormant until crisis activated it.
"You're her heir," the Codex whispers directly into my mind. "Not merely by blood but by potential. The vessel she failed to become through her choices."
Horror washes through me at this intimate connection to the woman who cursed my gargoyles, who now hunts us with single-minded determination. I want to reject the connection, deny the heritage that links me to such calculated cruelty.
Yet the Codex offers another perspective: "Bloodline provides possibility, not destiny. The same power flows through your veins, but your choices determine its expression."
The passage widens suddenly into a small cavern, offering momentary respite from our flight. Ravik calls for a brief halt, his amber eyes assessing our condition with tactical precision.
"We've gained temporary advantage," he announces, keeping his voice low. "But they'll find alternate routes to intercept us. We should rest briefly, then continue deeper."
"The vrakken tunnels pose their own dangers," Thane reminds us, crimson eyes scanning the darkness beyond our small circle of light.
"Calculated risk versus certain capture," Zephyr counters. "The vrakken may be territorial, but they hold no specific grudge against us, unlike our current pursuers."
As they discuss options, I sink to the ground, the Codex cradled in my lap. Its knowledge continues flowing into me, though the transfer has slowed to manageable levels. Among the magical theories and transformation principles emerges information of immediate value—maps of the underground network, details of vrakken society since their retreat beneath the mountains, potential safe passages through their territory.
"There's a neutral zone," I interject, the knowledge crystallizing as I speak. "A section of tunnels the vrakken consider sacred ground, where violence is forbidden by their deepest taboos. If we can reach it, we'd have sanctuary long enough to recover our strength and plan our next move."
Three pairs of eyes turn to me with varying degrees of surprise.
"How do you know this?" Ravik asks, no challenge in his tone, merely tactical assessment.
I tap the Codex gently. "It's showing me things—knowledge beyond what Morwen or King Kres possess. Including safe passage through vrakken territory."
Zephyr moves closer, scholarly interest evident in his expression despite our dire circumstances. "The Codex is communicating directly with you? Not merely through text but through knowledge transfer?"
"Yes." I hesitate, uncertain how to explain the intimate connection forming between myself and the ancient artifact. "It's as if it's been waiting for someone with the right... combination of attributes."
"Purna blood but human heart," Zephyr muses. "Magical potential tempered by compassion. Perhaps that's why it remained hidden from Morwen despite her greater power and direct bloodline."
"Whatever the reason, it's chosen you," Ravik states, acceptance replacing his initial suspicion. "And we need every advantage available. How far to this neutral zone?"
Before I can answer, a distant rumble echoes through the passage behind us—magical energy discharging against stone. Our pursuers have breached Ravik's rockfall barrier sooner than anticipated.
"No more time for discussion," Thane declares, helping me to my feet with gentle urgency. "Which direction, Kaia?"
I clutch the Codex tighter, allowing its knowledge to flow more freely through our connection. "There," I indicate a narrow offshoot from the main passage, barely visible in the gloom. "Three levels down, then east toward the crystal formations. The sacred boundary lies approximately two miles ahead."
Ravik nods, tactical mind already mapping our route. "I'll take point. Thane, guard our rear. Zephyr, stay with Kaia."
As we move deeper into the mountain's heart, the passages grow increasingly alien—no longer shaped by dark elf or purna hands but carved by creatures with different anatomical considerations. Surfaces gleam with phosphorescent fungi that provide eerie green illumination, revealing bizarre ecological adaptations to subterranean existence.
The tunnels themselves seem almost alive, occasionally shifting subtly as we pass through, as if the mountain breathes around us. The sensation would be terrifying if not for the Codex's steady warmth against my chest, its ancient knowledge providing context for these unsettling phenomena.
