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him. Not least, thanks to the bitterness that had lain in her last words.

They had passed the bridge hall and were now passing through a long corridor that no longer ran along a water canal. The ground began to rise, and the sound of dripping water slowly faded out behind them. This started to look more and more like a cellar and no longer like a sewer, thought Anselm. Maybe that meant they were close to their destination.

"What a honor, you remember my name, Lord Magician." The words sounded hollow, a phrase that made it clear that she by no means meant it. And if he read her facial expression correctly ... disgust.

Her face was only remotely reminiscent of that of a human. A short snout with pointed teeth, the golden eyes. Red furcoat and hair in the same color that disappeared half under a hood. Combined with the wooden mask, it did not necessarily make it easier to interpret what she was thinking or feeling, even though the thin, flexible scales that covered the visible half of her face were quite expressive, not rigid as a reptile's as he would have expected.

At first he had to think of a crocodile, but that did not come close, he thought. Especially since a crocodile could not breath fire. The heavy tail the creature carried behind it was flexible, as he had seen. So what were they? No Gejarn like Cyrus, he was pretty sure of that , unless the Empire had managed to overlook a whole clan all these years.

The motley, oversized clothes made it hard to say anything for sure, but the being he followed did seem feminin. She wore a belt with a strange collection of objects that seemingly had nothing to do with each other. An oil bottle she had used to make the torch, a knife with an obsidian blade ... and half a dozen pieces of scrap metal.  Bent knives, spoons, the broken lock of a gun and a shiny silver coin with the double emblem of eagle and lion that had been worked into the leather.

 Apparently, these beings had visited their army camp and plundered some of it. Or they had taken it from one of the dead. He did not know which option he found more disturbing. That someone crept around in their camp for month’s unnoticed ... and apparently stole garbage. Or that they plundered the dead, as he himself had experienced.

Finally, their path ended in front of a short flight of stairs, at the end of which was a tarnished metal door. Several locks kept the gate shut, and judging by the old, rust-filled scratches in the floor it had been a long time since it was last opened.

“I am Anselm, "he finally said, mainly to break the silence again.

"Then you're lucky, Lord Anselm," she interrupted. " We are almost there. Hold that for me, please." And with these words, she threw him the torch. Anselm just had time to catch it without thinking about it. Sparks flew and hot ashes trickled down on his fingers. With a curse he changed the torch into the other hand to shake off the embers.

Meanwhile, Ganelle worked at the door. She removed a whole bundle of keys from her belt and unlocked one lock after another. For some, she did not seem to know which key was the correct one and had to try several until she found it. Anselm could only stand there and give light with the torch. The light spell he had used before had gone out when he had burned himself. Minutes seemed to pass, , then finally Ganelle had removed the last lock . But before she opened the door, she stopped again.

"You are not a high priest." It was not a question but a simple statement. When he did not answer, she just laughed, a strange bright sound. She wasn’t angry just ... amused, thought Anselm. Friendly.

"No," he finally admitted. "I'm really sorry, but I did not think you'd get me out of here if I said openly that I belong to the Emperor's army. Your companion from earlier was already right. I am part of the order. I'm a magician, but not one of yours. "

"Oh believe me, that's something I've noticed. One of ours. "She laughed again and there seemed to be just as much relief as humor in her voice." One of ours, as you call it, would have killed me long ago. Instead of letting himself be turned into a light fixture and then getting burned. I can not believe it. You are a bad liar, even if you keep your  mouth shut. "

"I'm a magician, not an actor," Anselm replied. He felt the tension fall off as well. His worries were probably unfounded. If anything, she seemed as relieved as he was about not having to actualy deal with one of her priests. After all, she seemed to like them less than even the army that was just besieging the city above their heads. "I think I can find my way out from here,"

She shook her head. "Better not. This exit here ... "She knocked on the metal of the door. "Leads directly up to the inner pyramid. No, if you want to get out of here, I'm afraid we'll have to go back. Unless you really want to find out why I do not like our high priests. They're probably sitting somewhere right above us."

"I think I’ll pass. But if you do not like them, why do you have the keys? I mean, I do not give anyone that I do not trust access to a secret door that leads directly to me? "

"Nobody trusts a Kobold," she replied. "But no one distrusts us as well, Anselm. There is no reason why we should not go everywhere. Nobody is paying attention to us. For most, we are as much a part of this city as the stone it is made of. If we did not already have the keys to the city, we would just take them."

"I guess you've never heard of the concept of theft?"

"That’s when someone wants to take something away from me." She smiled again, this time with more visible teeth. Anselm had to think back to how one of her companions had suggested eating him. "Not a good idea. Meaning, you owe me a pair of shoes. "

Anselm shook his head. "Just to make that clear, these were my shoes to begin with."

"No not anymore. I had taken them. "The outrage in her voice seemed real enough that Anselm wondered if the Kobold really did not understand why something she was taking did not immediately belong to her ... or whether she made fun of him.

"From me." He finally sighed. "Look, you can have them, as soon as I get out of here, does that sound like a deal?" If he managed to get out of here, going barefoot back to the camp would be at the bottom of his list of worries.

The proposal  made the Kobold display a broad grin. "I agree. So what are we waiting for? "The Kobold turned around and past Anselm, walked back the corridor they had come from originally.

The magician was about to follow her when he heard something. A distant, long-drawn howl. And not that of an animal ... He froze and looked back to the door. Hesitated.

"What are you waiting for? I already said that's the wrong  exit if you want to get out of here alive."

Anselm wrestled with himself  for a moment. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the sound came from above from the city.

"Ganelle ... what exactly is behind that door?“

She seemed to pretend for a moment to not have heared him, but stopped before she reached the end of the corridor.

"Ganelle?"

"You should maybe offer a little more than a pair of shoes.” she replied with a dark tone to her voice.

"This is not a game, what's behind that door.?"

She sighed audibly. "The cells. The high priests always like fresh blood for their rituals. "

"And kidnap people from our camp." Anselm hesitated as he turned to the door.

 He thought of the stories he had heard. How many people had the High Priests abducted and incarcerated in the course of this war? Not as mere prisoners, not as dangerous enemies ... but with the clear goal of killing them? If any were still alive ...

Something moved on his arm. He had not heard Ganelle come back. The hand on his arm felt warm, almost hot, not cold as he had expected. "Can we just go please? You're alone, you cannot help anyone here. "

How much he would have liked to convince himself of that as well. It would be easy. He could come back later, he told himself, informing the Imperial Army and get backup... only to then maybe return to empty cells and mutilated corpses. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could not free anyone. Even with magic, he could not open too many cells. But if there were survivors, he needed to know. Tell them that help would come instead of leaving them alone in the dark. He knew what fear could do to a mind. And more so, if there was no way out. Anselm shook off Ganelles hand.

"I'm not asking you to come with me," he finally said. "You may help me, but you are somehow part of this city even if I do not quite understand how. I think I can find a way out of here on my own. But I can’t just leave them.. "

 "So… what are you up to then?"

Anselm took a deep breath before placing a hand on the iron door and pushing it open. "Something that a certain wolf would probably call an incredibly stupid idea."

 

 

 

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Publication Date: 11-18-2019

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