Page 1 of Echoes of the Raven
1
VALERIA
“I have broken my Tuathacath vows a thousand times. I know not how I shall live with the shame when I return to Tirnanog because, by all the gods, Ishallreturn.”
Calierin Kelraek - Tuathacath Warrior and Veilfallen - 21 AV
The dead and the living sleep within the catacombs. Silence hangs heavy in the air, as thick as the dankness of this place. My wrists burn as I continue struggling, pulling, twisting, trying to get free of the ropes that bind me to the cot.
No one has been to check on me in over an hour.
My thumbs hurt as I bend them toward my palms. With one heedless pull, I yank my hands past the tight, coarse ropes. They fall to the side.
Oh, gods! I’m free!
I bite my lower lip to stifle a cry. A layer of skin has been rubbed off in the process, and the raw wounds left behind sting.
Even as my pain flares, I quickly undo the ropes wrapped around my ankles. I stand, and my head swims. Swaying on bare feet, I hold on to the wall, taking deep breaths. A lonely torch burns in a bracket on the wall, warming my face. I close my eyes to the soothing feeling.
C’mon, Val. Get it together.
I will my senses to focus. This is my chance to escape Rífíor and his veilfallen. I may not get another one.
They’ve been keeping me in a dead-end tunnel, a small alcove that once held bones but has since been desecrated. I’ve been here for four days. Five? I’m not sure. It’s difficult to tell time in this eternal darkness. I still wear the silver-spun dress, my engagement gown. It’s torn and doesn’t balloon around me like it did that night. While I was unconscious, after I risked my life to save Amira’s as she plummeted to the floor, someone must have removed the inner hoop. Now, the beautiful material is ruined, stained black and torn at the edges. At least the many layers of fabric keep my legs warm, even if they drag, which is more than I can say for the revealing bodice.
Taking a few tentative steps, I make it to the arched doorway. Beyond, two more torches are anchored to the wall, their orange glow illuminating a passage flanked by stone walls and a dirt floor.
I see no signs of life.
Crouching, I hurry up the narrow corridor, heart lodged in my throat. At a fork, I look in both directions. I have no idea which way to go. I choose left.
After taking two more left turns and encountering no one, I arrive at another alcove, this one much larger than the last.
I cautiously approach the wall where I notice several hollows. I squint, trying to discern the contents of one of them and jump back when I stare into two empty sockets, the macabre nature of the chamber revealed. More tombs. The hollow is filled with a jumble of bones, a leering skull sitting on top.
A chill races down my spine as I sense the weight of all the forgotten souls trapped in this timeless sepulcher. The dim light flickers, casting eerie shadows that seem to elongate and grasp with bony fingers. The boundary between the living and the dead is thin here, and the past clings tenaciously to the present.
A whispering voice echoes behind me. I twirl to face another hollow, also filled with bones.
You’re imagining things, Val. Keep moving.
The whisper echoes again, this time from my left. My breaths coming in a quick staccato, I turn in that direction. In front of me, there’s only darkness, another passage without illumination.
I glance back the way I came, wondering if I should go back or keep going forward. The sound of steps from whence I came provides the answer. I remove one of the torches from the wall and rush into the passage ahead.
The darkness seems to swallow the light like a starving monster. I can’t see more than a couple of feet in front of me.
Once more, there are whispers.
This time, they seem to come from all around me. I twirl in a circle, the torch flickering.
“It’s lonely here,” someone whispers, the voice intelligible now.
I take several steps back, and my back hits the wall. “W-who said that?”
There is a long silence without any sound, then the voice again. “Is… is someone there?”
I stretch my arm, shining the light further ahead. A gasp escapes my lips when I catch a glimpse of grimy toes peeking from under the hem of an equally grimy dress. I take a step closer, the puddle of light moves with me, creeping forward until it reveals a woman sitting on the damp ground, knees bent, arms tightly hugging her legs.
