Chapter 0 - The Forgotten Catacombs

The Forgotten Catacombs
Decius I
 
              The last rays of the sun faded over the rooftops of the Imperial City as the sorcerer passed through the wrought iron gates of the Collegium Veneficium. From atop its arched gateway, a great brass sphinx stared down at him, the waning sunlight dancing it its topaz eyes. Down the white brick path went the sorcerer, shaded by tall cypress trees on either side. The walk was lit by glowing white crystals set in tall lampposts that flickered to light as the sun dipped below the western horizon. All around him, students and instructors of the Collegium quit their offices and study halls to return to their residences for the night. 
              Moving in tight knots, the students ignored the stranger as they hurried down the paths to their residence halls. Quiet, excited chatter floated to his ears with the breeze and he smiled wistfully to himself, old memories returning to his mind. 
              His face concealed by a cloak, the sorcerer crossed the main square and climbed the steps of the tall, white marble edifice of the Library of the Arcane. A cool autumn breeze whipped his cloak, carrying with it distant music and the strong smell of indigo spice. The aroma of spice was everywhere in the Collegium, but this breeze carried with it the signs of a distant ritual in the works. However, the sorcerer paid it no mind.
              He pushed aside the tall, bronze-fronted doors of elden oak and entered the foyer. The boom of the closing doors echoed about the hall, climbing past the crystal chandelier into the high, vaulted ceiling to the skylight which glowed dark orange in the fading daylight. He strode across the marble floor, decorated with a scene of spell-scribes hard at work, the steps of his fine leather boots quietly echoing around the empty chamber. At the far end of the foyer, he pushed open another set of double doors and entered the library’s main hall.
              High above him loomed the tops of the bookshelves, accessible by ladders mounted on rails that slid along the front of the shelves. The shelves were arranged in rows that ran down the length of the long hall, each one laden with countless books and scrolls of origins both ancient and new. A thousand king’s ransoms could not have equaled the worth of this hall’s books. Between the shelves were reading desks and benches, which earlier in the day would have been crowded with students busily searching for the answers to the mysteries of magic. Tonight, they were empty but for a bare handful of students still studying by the white light of glowing crystals. 
              One student, having apparently just realized the time, clutched an armload of papers to his chest as he hurriedly rushed out the main door to the foyer, leaving the sorcerer standing in a whirl of disturbed air and scattered notes. He caught one such scrap of paper as it floated gently down and gave it a quick glance before tossing it aside. His eyes scanned up and down the hall, taking in the quiet scene of the nighttime library.
              Just in front of him, sat two students, each wearing green dress with the pin of an adeptus, the last step before graduating from the collegium. The two of them were seated behind a long, semi-circular desk of ancient oak, their heads buried in books. Behind them was a large cabinet containing the indices for the entire library. The desk had space to seat eight attendants, but at this late hour these two were the only ones present. Over their heads loomed an enormous ivory idol of Felitharna, Goddess of Secrets and Lady of Magic, garbed in raiment of the finest silk and crowned in gold. 
              The first student to look up was a blonde woman with green eyes and a mouth that crooked up at the corners. She smiled politely at the sorcerer’s approach. Her companion, a dark-haired young man with a thin beard, looked up briefly before returning to his book with an annoyed scowl.
              “Hello there, magus,” the woman said cheerfully, leaning forward against the desk. “may I see your ring?”
              The sorcerer held up his hand, showing her the signet ring on it. The face of it was ivory, carved to show a sphinx holding a staff in one hand and a sword in the other. Around it was engraved “Decius Sallax Capricius.”
              Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re you!” she gasped.
              “So I am,” he replied easily. 
              “Salvius!” she exclaimed to her companion at the desk, “It’s Decius Sallax Capricius!”
              “So it is,” the other student replied, hardly looking up from his book. 
              “You know him,” the woman continued, “He was at the Battle of Aebla! He recovered the Stone of Orrino and wrote the Life of---"
              “I’ve read the history,” Salvius cut in. She opened her mouth to elaborate further and then thought the better of it. She turned back to Decius. 
              “My name is Ephia,” she said, extending a delicate hand to him in greeting. He took it in his own and kissed it. 
              “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ephia,” he said, and he saw her eyes flutter at the sound of her name on his lips. “I would introduce myself, but it would seem unnecessary.”
              “What can I help you with today, Magus?” she asked, visibly trying to control her excitement.
              “I am looking for an old scroll,” Decius answered, leaning on the desk and looking down at Ephia, whose bodice was hanging open affording him a look at the tops of her small, white breasts. “the Fifth Scroll of Master Pertinus the Elder, to be precise.” He gave her a 
              “I don’t remember the name,” Ephia said, blushing despite her effort. “I will check the index.” She rose from her seat, keeping her eyes downcast, and moved hurriedly to the cabinet behind the desk. She opened one drawer after another, flustered, until at last she found the one she wanted.
              “Here it is!” she proclaimed, then her face scrunched up in confusion. “I… I’m afraid I don’t know where this is,” she said slowly.
              “What does it say?” Decius asked, noticing that Salvius was studiously trying not to get involved.
              “Cellar Annex, Seventh Cell,” she read out loud. “Where is the Cellar Annex?” 
              “Good question,” Decius wondered. There were two levels known as cellars, the Upper Cellar and the Lower Cellar, but whether the Cellar Annex was an annex of either of those or a different level entirely was unclear. When he was in attendance, he and his cohorts had crawled every passage they could find, but both the index and the library’s lower levels were full of old, forgotten names. Possibly the Cellar Annex was a place he knew well by an entirely different name.
              Ephia went to another drawer and produced a small map of the library’s lower levels. She spread it across the desk and traced her finger along the labyrinthine passages shown. 
              “Presuming the Annex is actually an annex, there are only a few candidates,” she reasoned aloud. 
              “That would make sense,” Decius agreed, “however, no one has ever been able to make these passages obey reason. Give me the map, I will find the place myself.”
              “You might get lost down there,” Ephia exclaimed, “I will go with you.”
              “Very well,” Decius said, standing up. “Thank you for your help,” he said to Salvius as Ephia led him away. The dark-haired youth made no reply except to deepen his scowl.
              “Your companion could use lessons in how to greet guests at the library,” Decius remarked as they departed the hall.
              “That’s just Salvius being bitter,” Ephia laughed, “he has been sulking ever since he failed his first exam. Then the girl he was chasing turned him down, too.”
              They entered a side corridor and Ephia took a glowstone lantern from its hook. Taking a key from her belt, she unlocked the heavy iron door to a stairwell. She lit the lantern with a whispered incantation and held it before her as she descended the stairs into the darkened lower levels of the library.
              Decius followed her, treading carefully on the old and dust-covered stairs that wound down through a narrow shaft in the earth. They reached the first level of the cellars and Ephia held up the map in front of her. Decius leaned in over her shoulder to inspect it. She tightened in excitement as his breath hit her shoulder.
              “I think it’s up here,” she stammered, pointing down the passage to their right.
              Here, in the old archives, the ever-present smell of spice gave way to a musty aroma of centuries old tomes and long-dried ink. The hall was deathly quiet, and the lantern’s light caught on floating motes of dust in the air. The corridor walls were stone, pierced by doorways that opened into chambers of widely varying size, jammed with bookshelves and in some cases loose piles of scrolls or books on the floor. The ceiling was low, and the bookshelves were simple. Instead of being arranged neatly as above, here they were piled on shelves in a haphazard order, covered in layers of dust and spiderwebs. Some rooms had desks covered in books, opened and closed. At pointed place in the corridor, it became partially blocked by a scroll rack left in the hall.
              Despite the barriers, they soon reached the suspected location of the annex, only to find that their map was out of date. Instead of a small annex crammed with books, they found only a stone wall blocking their progress.
              “Damn,” Decius growled. “What’s next on the list?”
              Ephia frowned and looked down at the map. 
              “There are two more on this level, but we can’t reach them easily from here. It would be fastest to take those stairs,” she pointed down yet another corridor, “to the lower cellar and check those rooms, then check the far side of this level on the way back up.”
              Again, they descended the stairs into the cellar. This level was even dustier and darker than the one above. It consisted of a single vast chamber, studded with stone support pillars, and several small side chambers adjoining it. Ephia led him to a door faintly marked with the number seven and pushed open the ancient portal. It creaked loudly and scraped the floor beneath it.
              Inside, they found the room in a familiar state; scrolls and books were piled along the walls and on the table in the center of the room. A single rusty, unlit light fixture hung above the table.
              “These rooms are in a far worse state than I remembered,” Decius grumbled to himself, “I now wonder if the index is even remotely correct.”
              Ephia stood by the door, holding up the lantern so that it cast its light over the myriad tomes and librams around the room. She was quietly reading the titles to herself. Decius wished he knew what the scroll he was looking for even looked like. 
              He leafed through the scrolls, finding ancient poetry, chronicles, tax records, private correspondences… everything but what he was looking for. 
              Several times, he spied Ephia looking his way, clearly trying to summon the courage to ask him something. 
              “You might as well ask the things you wish of me. It will be more productive than standing there with your mouth open.”
              “Tell me,” Ephia said, hoisting the glowstone above her so that it cast its light on her pretty young face, “Is it true you went before the Oracle of Ishar? What did it tell you?”
              Decius smiled, holding a scroll of old imperial census information in his hands. 
              “Nothing useful, though that may change in the future. Oracles are tricky things. If you ever see one, you must remember its words, but do not hang on them. An oracle’s prophecy can aid you at the very best time, but it can also consume you with paranoid and self-doubt. You must not allow it to take over your mind.”
              “You know,” Ephia began hesitantly, “they still tell all kinds of stories about you here.”
              “I have heard. No doubt the stories bear little resemblance to the truth.”
              “They say you rescued Caesius Marius with your battleplan for Aebla. That until you arrived, he was ready to abandon the entire province to the rebels and now he owes his entire reputation to the victory you won for him.”
              “It is as I suspected,” Decius chuckled. “The plan was as much his as it was mine. I carried the left wing, and he carried the right. Without his leadership, the center might have caved under fire from the rebel cannon before I ever fought my way clear of the marsh.”
              “They say you were in Torvuls during its latest conflict, that you once sailed to Cyrport, that you have the ear of the emperor,” she continued.
              “I was, I did, and I do. Or I like to think I do,” Decius replied.
              “They say you are a regular guest at his orgies,” Ephia said shyly.
              “I go when I am present in the city,” Decius replied, “it is not the kind of thing you turn down if you can.”
              “What are they like?” she inquired, her hesitancy quickly giving way to eager curiosity. 
              “They are unlike anything you have ever seen. The emperor brings in courtesans and slave girls from far and wide. He has concubines brought all the way from Leiyan, elven courtesans, dark-skinned beauties from the south, fire haired Diborians and blonde Garexians, Amazons, girls with fey blood… it is a dream from which one might dread to wake. He has a hall in the palace for the occasion, with a fountain in the center that flows with wine, not water, and which is free for all to drink from. Musicians in the hall’s galleries play music throughout it all while women dance in the nude.”
              Ephia stared in wonderment, biting her lower lip as her free hand drifted to her belt.
              “It sounds like a revel worthy of Nystra herself,” she said.
              “When Nystra takes human form upon the earth, I have no doubt that she appears at the emperor’s orgies.”
              “There are tales of men, and women, who have been blessed by her presence in their beds. If the emperor is in the favor of the gods, surely she would be a guest at his orgies.”
              “If I ever meet her, I’ll let you know,” Decius said. “But for now, it would seem that my goal eludes us. There is nothing here. Which way to the next cell?”
              Ephia inspected the map again. “Down this hall, third door on the left.” They left the chamber together, Ephia keeping close to him with an hand on his arm. Decius could see that her cheeks were flushed and felt her heartbeat pounding in her chest. 
 
              Above them, in the library’s main hall, another sorcerer approached the desk. He was tall and thin, with piercing gray eyes and a thin mustache. He wore a gray cloak about him and a silvery rapier at his hip. Behind him, four more men in gray cloaks lingered in the foyer like dread spirits. The tall man approached the desk, now staffed only by the ornery Salvius, who only looked up when the man loomed over him. Looking around, Salvius convinced himself that Ephia had still not returned and so dramatically slammed his book shut and looked up at the guest.
              “Can I help you, sir?” he asked without a modicum of sincerity.
              “Yes, young man,” the sorcerer crooned in a honey-smooth voice. “I need the key to the Lower Cellar.”
              Salvius groaned in annoyance. “Show me your signet ring,” he said after an exasperated pause. The man raised his right hand, palm forward, and spoke in a deep voice as his left hand traced an arcane symbol in the air.
              “Give the key to me,” he rumbled. Salvius blinked as if struggling to stay awake. 
              “That’s a… complex charm… third ring…” the youth murmured, his mind struggling to recall his lessons, “Master Gilba says the proper counter is to—"
              The sorcerer spoke again, tracing another symbol in the air, more forcefully this time, “I compel you to give me the key.”
              Salvius stopped his thinking and turned toward the key chest. As if in a dream, he slowly unlocked the chest and removed a heavy iron key. He handed the key to the tall man as the four others in the foyer moved to join him.
              “Thank you, young man,” the tall sorcerer soothed. “Now, return to your reading and forget everything you saw here.”
              Salvius stiffly sat down in his seat again, and then slumped back and closed his eyes. The tall sorcerer smiled and led his companions toward the side corridor.
 
              Decius and Ephia searched the next cell, finding no luck there either. 
              “Damnation,” Decius grumbled, “I may never find this cursed scroll after all.”
              Ephia said nothing, pressing her back against the wall and squeezing her lips shut. Decius gave her a curious look and she cast her gaze down to the dusty floor.
              He flung a scroll aside in annoyance and it upended a pile of old tomes stacked on the floor. He sighed to calm himself. Whatever that scroll was, it may have been important. Whoever was tasked with organizing these items had clearly given up, but the presence of Pertinus’ scroll in such a place implied the presence of other priceless artifacts. Destroying things in a rage was sure to leave some other, future, sorcerer in the same predicament he was in now.
              Decius carefully stepped over the stacks of tomes and rearranged those he had knocked over. Their covers were cracked with age and in some places the pages had congealed together. Looking to the ceiling, he could see no signs of water leaking through, though the poorly maintained cellars had many problems that might go unseen by a quick inspection.
              Decius backed away. He was here for a scroll, not to fix the library’s centuries old disorganization. Someone else would have to harangue the Scribes’ Guild to sort this mess out. He turned back to Ephia, who was holding the lantern in front of her with both hands, a question perched on her lips.
              “You want to ask something again?” Decius prompted.
              “What is this scroll of Pertinus you are looking for?” she asked. “Why do you need it?”
              Decius sighed. “It is a long explanation, but the short of it that I need it to complete my understanding of a spell I am researching. This is for a project funded by my patron in Sostrum which he is very determined to finish.”
              “This scroll will help you learn a new spell?”
              “This scroll will help me unravel an old spell. Or so I hope.”
              “I see,” she said. “Well, perhaps it is in the next room?”
              They went across the hall to another wide, low-ceilinged room intersected through its middle by another corridor.
              “This is the last place to look on this level,” Ephia explained, reading the map once again. “After this, we should take the stairs down that hall back to the Upper Cellar and look there.”
              “And if it’s not there, then what?” Decius asked, reading the labels of the scrolls with little hope of success.
              “Then I don’t know where to look. Perhaps you should come back in the morning when the Master Archivist will be in.”
              “I suppose I’ll find a place for the night. If everything went well, I hoped to leave on an airship tonight and be back in Sostrum in two weeks’ time.”
              Ephia said nothing, staring down at the floor and biting her lip again. Decius continued to search the scrolls and tomes piled on the simple shelves.
“You are disappointed that I am leaving so soon?” he teased.
“I am a bit. You are such a legend here, I had hoped you might stay a while and regale us with your tales.”
“Unfortunately, it is because of my status that I must go. I have a patron in Sostrum who is very demanding of my time.”
“Perhaps you just don’t have a good reason to stay?” she asked coyly and he turned a wry grin on her.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, experienced enough to know the answer.
“Maybe I could suck your cock?” she twirled a ringlet of blonde hair about her finger and flittered her eyes at him.
              “That shouldn’t take too long. I would be delighted to experience your hospitality,” he said, undoing his belt.
              The girl knelt before him and excitedly undid the strings of his trousers. She drew out his cock and gripped it with both hands, looking up at him. She giggled and put his mouth on it, working her lips and tongue with copious enthusiasm. Decius reached inside her dress to cup her shapely breasts with a hand and she pulled her bodice open to accommodate his touch. She skillfully worked her tongue on his cock and her hands on his balls. 
              “I never thought I would ever have your cock in my mouth,” she said, removing her head from it long enough to laugh. “No one will ever believe this when I tell them.”
              Her mouth returned to its work, with Decius leaning against the shelves and grasping her by the hair. She was good, trained in her art not by instructors at the collegia but by students. Or perhaps by the priestesses of Nystra, Goddess of Pleasure. She continued about her work until he was close to finishing.
              “Hold on, girl,” he said and pulled his cock out of her mouth. She pouted for him, staring up into his eyes with her eyes. The lantern light made her white face even more so, and he had to pinch his cock closed so that he did not burst all over her so soon.
              “You keep going like that and I won’t last long enough to put it in you.”
              “Well, let’s not waste anymore time then,” she said, rising to her feet.
              She pulled her dress over her head, standing before him on only her smallclothes. Decius wasted no time in removing those, leaving him with a view of pink nipples on white flesh and her shaven sex. He busied his mouth on the former while working the latter with his fingers, pressing Ephia up against the shelves as he did. She kicked off her shoes to stand naked before him. Her fingers wound their way through his hair and she moaned with pleasure.
              He stood up and kissed her mouth, exulting in her crooked rep lips and mischievous smile.
              “Why stop there?” she asked wickedly and spread her legs open. Decius cast a look down the corridor towards the stairs. There was no light nor motion nor sound from them.
“We’re not the first couple to fuck in the stacks,” she said, “though we might be the first to do it down here in a long time.”
              “Oh, I’m well aware of the library’s other uses. I’ve enjoyed my share of bookworms in here, you should know.”
              He grabbed her lantern from the shelf and raised it over her head, admiring her nakedness. 
              “Come now, Capricius,” she teased, “Afraid of getting caught?” It was all Decius needed to hear. He threaded his arms under her bottom and lifted her up as she braced herself against the shelves, then lowered her onto his cock. Her eyes rolled back as he entered her and she gave out a little moan. He thrust his cock into her and drew it out again, his eyes wandering to her breasts and the bouncing they endured each time her thrust into her. He thrust in again and she squealed in delight. Encouraged by such a wonderful sound, he unleashed his full lust upon her.
Ephia braced herself against the shelves, rocking them against the stone floor with each thrust of his hips. The clattering of the shelves echoed loudly throughout the otherwise silent cellars.
              The exertion soon began to tire him and he adjusted his posture for the better.
              “Here,” she said, stopping his thrusting with a hand on his chest, “Let us find somewhere where I can get on top.”
              He shed his clothes in the aisle, leaving them atop her own, and followed her into a small study chamber, where Decius lay himself atop an old table that creaked under his weight. Ephia wasted no time in mounting him, sliding his cock into the wetness between her legs. She planted both hands on his chest and began to ride him vigorously. He pulled her down so that he could kiss her mouth, then her breasts, then her mouth again. She began to moan as she rode, changing her posture from kneeling atop him to squatting so that his cock might reach deeper inside her. 
              Her moaning changed to screaming as she rode and she cried out in exhortation.
              “Fuck me harder, Decius! Fuck me like I’m one of the emperor’s whores! Oh yes, don’t stop!”
              “Oh, I’m going to come!” he shouted, pushing her off. She rolled off the table and knelt before him with her mouth wide open. Decius squeezed his cock shut and positioned himself before her. pointing his cock at her mouth, he gave himself a few vigorous strokes before unleashing a spray of cum into her gaping mouth. His release was misaimed, and some landed in her eye while more dribbled down her chin and onto her breasts. Ephia giggled in delight, playing with the cum with her tongue and wiping her eyelid clean. 
              He leaned back against the table, panting with the exertion. 
              “You were everything you were made out to be,” Ephia murmured, laying back on the floor with her knees under her. Cum glistened on her breasts in the lantern light. She turned over, she off her naked back to him as she rolled across the floor in euphoria. 
              “How does that compare to the emperor’s orgies?” she wondered aloud.
              “You were wonderful,” he said, bending down to give her a kiss on a cum-glazed cheek. “But nothing compares to them.”
              She gasped in mock offense.
              “I will simply not believe that! Not without proof!”
              “Well, the next time I am invited, I will take you to one,” he said, and she met his eyes in delighted excitement. “How does that sound?”
              She smiled widely and grabbed his head, pulling him in for a kiss. “That sounds like a dream come true. I could pleasure the emperor himself, and taste his cum on my tits.”
              It was Decius’ turn to feign offense. “Thinking of another man so soon? Perhaps I should have another go at you.”
              “I would love that,” she said, laying her head against the dusty floor. “But your mind outraces your cock, which is still not yet ready.” She reached out a delicate white hand and playfully flicked the head of his cock.
              “Hush,” Decius whispered, peering down the corridor, “Someone is coming.”
              “Hide!” Ephia hissed, suddenly afraid, “The scribes will flog me in the commons if they find out my time away from the desk was spent like this!”
 
              The tall sorcerer paused in the dusty tunnel. Before him, he could make out the faint glow of a lantern, unless his eyes deceived him.
              “Why do you stop, Aeramen?” asked his companion, Adenet Rousse. “We must be quick about this.”
              “Quiet,” Aeramen whispered, “I think I see the glow of someone’s lantern up ahead.”
              “More students?” asked their companion Vanules Gruitt from behind them. “Charm them or kill them and let’s be gone. I do not like being in the belly of the beast.”
              “Cloak yourself in shadow, Adenet,” Aeramen commanded, “Approach them unseen and get rid of them. If you need to hide a body, there are all manner of foul beasts in the Catacombs that would be of use.”
              Adenet nodded and spoke the words to shroud himself in a cloak of invisibility. To all but the most trained eyes, he was no more than a puff of air. So hidden, he stole silently down the corridor to the source of the light, until suddenly it winked out. 
              Aeramen swore under his breath. Turning to the others, he gave out orders, “Rhamenes, take your lantern around that hall. Praxte, guard the stairs we came down. Vanules, stay close and keep a watch. We must avoid detection.”
              The others scattered through the narrow corridors while Aeramen and Vanules the demonbinder slowly crept forward. Aeramen held in his hands a magical compass, whose needle pulsed a dim red in the darkness. Their ears and eyes alert, they made their way into the densely packed shelves, following the needle’s point. 
 
              Decius and Ephia crouched naked together in a side chamber as a pair of lanterns bobbed up and down through the shelves. Ephia’s lantern, doused, lay between her bare feet. Decius thought of their clothes, strewn about the larger chamber, with his spice and coin pouch underneath them. Hopefully, whoever was out there would not find them. 
              He kept a hand on Ephia’s naked shoulder to steady her, as she was trembling with excitement. Still flushed from their amorous interlude, she was further flustered by the prospect of getting caught by one of the dour scribes who patrolled the cellars, or perhaps by her ornery colleague from the front desk.
              “They will pass soon,” Ephia whispered in the darkness, “Unless they are also looking for some privacy down here.”
              “I would not be averse to some company, in that case,” Decius whispered back. But something unnerved him under his humor. The behavior of those lanterns was consistent with neither scribes nor students, and his sorcerer’s mind detected the something amiss in the magical realm. 
              “They are getting close,” he said, “we should move. Out that door and into the hall beyond,” he pointed to the far side of the chamber. “Don’t forget your lantern.”
              They moved together in a quiet hurry, passing out of the chamber just as the lanterns’ glow streamed through the door to illuminate the spot where they had hidden.
              Decius paused in the hallway, for now the lanterns were splitting up. He ushered Ephia into another chamber and took note of its exits, plotting an escape route already.
              “They are searching for us. We should look for an opportunity to retrieve our clothes and make for the stairs again.”
              Ephia nodded, clutching her lantern close to her chest, where the cold metal made her pale flesh rise in goosebumps. Her heart was racing at the prospect of being caught, and her eyes darted from one distant lantern glow to another like a hunted animal.
              “Can you not turn us invisible?” she asked eagerly.
              “Perhaps,” Decius replied in thought, “I have not the innate power for it and I left my spice with my clothes. But there is something strange about these searchers.” He pushed Ephia into a hiding spot between two shelves stacked with old ledgers.
              “Stay here, I am going to have a look at them.” Ephia looked about to protest, but he stole away before she could muster a response. Stealthily, he approached the nearer of the two lanterns.
 
              Aeramen looked down an aisle to his side and spied a mass of clothes discarded on the floor. He signaled to Vanules and they slipped between the shelves to investigate. He prodded the pile with his foot, turning it over. A man’s tunic and trousers, a cloak and a woman’s dress. He was unsurprised. The lower cellars were popular with the students as a place for trysts.
              “Just two kids fucking,” he said quietly to Vanules. “find them and bewitch them to sleep through the night and remember nothing. It should be easy.”
              Vanules nodded and went off searching. Aeramen returned to his compass. The glowing red needle led him into a side chamber whose door was shrouded in cobwebs. Brushing them aside, he checked his shoulders for spiders. Finding none, he entered the room, which had loose sheets of paper and parchment strewn across the floor. 
              This ancient college has more knowledge than they could ever hope to catalogue, let alone use, he thought to himself. Stepping over them, he pulled open the doors of an ancient cabinet. There within lay his prize, a centuries old tome faced in brass and sealed with a heavy iron lock. Aeramen put away the compass and carefully picked up the tome from its place. At last, he thought, the Black Book of Sestius Rufus Mincio.
              The book was even heavier than he expected, its cover engraved with wards and warnings. He ran a hand over it, probing the magics within for a weakness or a key to the lock. The spells were old, and unfamiliar. Unlocking the book’s secrets would take more time.
              No doubt one of the instructors above him would know the answer, he knew, but he was no longer on speaking terms with the Collegium. Never in his years of exile had he regretted poisoning that bond more than he did now, standing in their library cellar with unspeakable sorcerous power lying just out of his reach. Damn them all, he thought to himself, If it were not for their stubbornness, I could have everything thanks to this! But it was of no use. No magic in the world would let him undo what had been done all those years ago. 
              Vanules reappeared, interrupting his thoughts.
              “They must be close,” he said, annoyance evident in his narrow black eyes, “But I cannot find them. The shelves are many and the passages narrow.”
              “No matter then,” Aeramen lowered his voice and spoke in Narosian, Vanules’ mother tongue, confident that it would be foreign to most eavesdropping students, “we have our prize. Gather the others and let us make haste for our rooms at the Jester’s Cap. We will rise early and be on a ship shortly after dawn.”
              Vanules nodded warily. He was eager to be away from this place at last, the stress of such an endeavor wearing on his nerves. The demonbinder extended a hand, holding a sack made from manticore hide. Aeramen slid the tome inside to keep it safe from prying eyes, both mortal and arcane. He slung the sack over his shoulder and followed Vanules toward the stairs. 
              As they passed through the thicket of shelves, motion to his right caught his eye. He clapped a hand on Vanules’ shoulder and pointed into the shelves. Together, they dove into the shelves in pursuit of the spy. His hard gray eyes searching, he drew his silvery sword and spoke the command word. The blade flared to life with green fire. 
              Their chase proved short, and Aeramen cornered his nude quarry in the tangle of shelves. The man turned to face him, and Aeramen stopped short in surprise. The weight of many years fell away from him and his mind returned to his days as an adeptus at this very school, and the people had known then.
              “Decius,” Aeramen breathed in recognition, unable to believe his own misfortune. “I should have known it would be you.” He looked over Decius’ nude body and chuckled. “Some things never change.”
              “I wish I could say it was good to see you again, Fabius,” Decius replied, unashamed. “This could have been you down here with a pretty girl, just as it was before.”
              Vanules emerged behind Decius, slowly and stealthily stealing his way towards the cornered sorcerer with a long knife in his outstretched hand.
              “It could never be me again. It’s far too late for that, as you know.” Aeramen kept Decius’ attention focused on himself, leaning back against the shelving behind him, pretending to be in deep thought.
              “I suppose it is. And this man,” he gestured over his shoulder at the silently approaching Vanules, “I presume this would be one quarter of the Ebon Chalice Cabal?”
              Aeramen’s eyes flickered to Vanules, who wore the same expression of annoyed surprise. The demonbinder had truly been silent as an owl, how had Decius detected him? “I was forced to find new friends. This arrangement had proven most beneficial to me.”
              “Forced? You were forced?” Decius asked incredulously, “You cannot believe that, can you?”
              “You were not there,” Aeramen snapped, “You have only heard their side.”
              “And what is your side, hm?” Decius demanded, “What can you say that would exonerate you?”
              “The time for trials and exonerations is passed. I have what I came for, but I cannot let you tell the Arcani or the Regents you have seen me. I am sorry it has to end this way, Decius.”
              “Me too, Aeramen,” Decius replied, and he shimmered and stepped backwards, through the bookshelves.
              Aeramen swore and tried to shove his way through the obstacle. Vanules took off, running back along the row of shelves to find an entrance to the next aisle, but Decius was gone.
              “Curses! Apliss is toying with me!” Aeramen swore, slamming his fists against the obstructing shelves. “Vanules, summon a hound to sniff them out,” Aeramen he called out, running towards where the Narosian had disappeared into the stacks. He rounded a corner to find the demonbinder crouched down to the dusty floor, tracing an arcane circle in the age-old dust with his fingers. He began to chant, and slowly the dust swirled around him and formed a thick, red cloud. The cloud began to coalesce, and within it loomed the dark shape of a hound with burning coals in its eye sockets. As slowly as it came, the cloud dispersed, leaving a great hound at Vanules’ side, standing as high as his waist, and panting eagerly. Long, wicked teeth in its open mouth dripped with steaming bile.
              “Hunt for me,” Vanules commanded, and the beasts growled in answer.
 
              His shifting spell faded, placing Decius on the far side of a thick tangle of crowded shelving from Aeramen and his pursuers. He found his way back to where he had left Ephia, but the girl was nowhere to be seen.
“Time to run, Ephia,” he hissed into the darkness. Behind him, he could hear the Aeramen’s companion chanting, and he smelled sulfur. “Ephia!”
              The girl emerged from another doorway, her blonde head peering around the wall. “Come on!” Decius snapped, “there’s no time to waste! We have to run and get the Arcani, these men are warlocks!”
Ephia emerged from her hiding place completely, her pale, nude body standing out in the dim light of the cellars. “The Arcani?!” she hissed at him, “no, never!”
              “This is exactly why we have Arcani!” Decius shot back, “Let them hunt our enemies for once! Now come on!” he yanked her from the doorway and pulled her down the hall. She fell in quickly and matched his running pace. They tore down the halls as fast as they could in the direction of the stairs that had brought them here.
              From behind, Decius heard the sound of claws on stone and a heavy panting. He whirled to see a huge hound descending on him, malice in its glowing red eyes. The monster snarled and lunged for him, its jaws snapping in search of flesh to grab hold of. Decius kicked at the beast, his bare foot connecting with its muscular body, coated in coarse fur. The hound roared in fury at him and came on again. Ephia throw a heavy scroll at the creature and it dodged aside, giving Decius the opportunity to knock a heavy shelf into its path. The hound came on still, scrambling over the obstacle to continue the hunt.
              Backing away from the hound’s snapping jaws, Decius and Ephia began retreating towards the stairs to their right. Decius saw the demonbinder disappear into the shelves, searching for an attack angle from another direction. They were in danger of being surrounded in the tangle of shelves and corridors.
              The shelf to his right surged towards him and Decius backed away as quickly as he could, Ephia screaming behind him. Over the toppling shelf came a tall Laraeboi man, his bare chest tattooed with arcane sigils and a wicked bronze khopesh in his hand. He swung the blade down at Decius, who quickly conjured a barrier. The man’s wrist struck the barrier and he cried out, the khopesh falling from his grasp. Decius seized the weapon before it struck the stone floor and readied it to strike back.
              The man backpedaled away, drawing a rondel dagger from his belt. He assumed a practiced crouch, his second weapon at the ready. The hound nearly bowled him over in its haste to attack Decius, leaving the two of them tangled up in the corridor. Decius took the opportunity to run.
              “Not that way!” Ephia called, pulling him back before the warlocks could close in around him. Decius knocked over another shelf, its contents spilling into the narrow aisle to form a significant obstacle to his pursuers.
              “Run!” he shouted, and they took off down the corridor. The sickly green flame of the Aeramen’s sword and the soft white glow of the lanterns came after them, and Decius ran ahead through the twisting passages, trying to remember the way from all his past escapades in the cellars. 
              He took a wrong turn and doubled back, wasting the head start he had gained for them. His shifting spell spent, he was reduced to running on his mundane feet, even if he were inclined to abandon the girl. Ephia toppled another bookcase into the path of their pursuers, buying them a little more distance in the chase. Decius ran through another crowded scroll repository, hoping to lose them in the tangle, and emerged on the far side.
              They found themselves in a decaying corridor, even older than the rest of the cellars, with just two exits, the one they had entered through, and a heavy bronze door at the end of the hall. “Apliss!” Ephia swore, “it’s a dead end! That door leads to the Catacombs, and is locked for a reason!”
              “We’ll be safer in the Catacombs than up here,” Decius declared, and ran to the door.
              “What are you doing?!” Ephia screamed, “do you know what’s down there?!”
              “I do!” Decius shouted back, “But I know what’s up here, too! We can find our way to the Arcani barracks through here, I know they have a door to it as well. If we stay here, those warlocks will kill us. It’s the only way out.”
              “Through the Catacombs to the Arcani on the other side,” Ephia repeated, her voice trembling. Decius ignored her, whispering the words to the spell of opening he had learned from a thousand-year-old Mauridian scroll he bought in Chyrosia. The ancient warding spells on the door were no match for it, and the heavy bronze bolts slid open. With some effort, he pried the door ajar, carving an arc in the thick layer of dust. 
              “Where did you learn that spell?” Ephia marveled. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
              “When you travel the world, you learn magics you could never hope to learn in the college. Come along now, we must be quick on our feet.”
              It was just wide enough for him to squeeze through, though the slender Ephia would have an easier time. He turned to face her, finding the naked girl still standing in the passage, clutching her unlit lantern. Behind her, the glow of their pursuers’ lights was getting brighter.
              “Are you coming, girl? Or would you rather try your luck against their hound?”
              Ephia shook off her fear and ran to the door after him. Aeramen and his compatriots appeared in the corridor behind her, shouting spells at them. Decius shielded himself with the door and did his best to dispel anything not defeated by it. Ephia seized the ring on the inside of the door and began to pull it closed. One of their foes conjured a wedge of ice in the doorway, blocking the door from fully shutting. Decius swung his stolen khopesh at the ice block, hewing off pieces with each blow. Ephia gave the door a mighty pull, her bare feet scrabbling the dusty floor, and the block shattered. With a resounding boom, the door slammed shut and the restraining bolts clicked into place. 
              The thick portal dimmed the sound of pounding from the other side, accompanied by the sounds of them trying to pull it open again. 
              “They won’t get that open without a Word of Ruin,” Decius gasped, his heart in his throat. 
              “But how are we to get out?” Ephia asked, her lantern flickering to light. They were in a low-ceilinged passage, its walls covered in dust and spiderwebs. The passage bent out of view just a few paces past the door. 
              “Well, there’s only one way to go,” Decius said, starting off down the hall. Ephia stood by the sealed portal for a moment in silent fear before falling in behind him. His stolen khopesh at the ready, Decius led the way into the dark and dreaded tunnels. 
              He felt the closeness of the walls grow with every step he took into the bowels of the earth. Ephia clung to him, pressing her naked body against his back whenever he stopped all while keeping the lantern raised to light their way. For a time, they followed the winding passage wherever it led them, until eventually they came to an open chamber. Ahead of them, the passage turned into a narrow, unrailed bridge over chasm of unknown depth. They paused at the foot of the bridge and Ephia hung her lantern over the edge. Together, they peered into the depths.
              Twenty feet below or more, their white light shone on the surface of a dark pool of water. Whether cistern, underground river or something more sinister, Decius did not know. 
              “I do not like the look of this,” Decius whispered, his eyes warily roaming the surface of the water. “Keep your light from shining directly into the water and let us cross quickly and quietly. It is best not to disturb anything that might dwell down there.”
              Ephia kept hold of his shoulder and they cautiously made their way across, her lantern low and centered over the bridge. The hall was quiet, the distant sound of the warlocks pounding on the portal had faded. From off in the darkened corners, the sound of water dripping echoed irregularly through the chamber. 
              Feeling her hand remove itself from his shoulder, Decius looked to Ephia behind him. She had stopped in the middle of the bridge, staring down into the water. He moved to her side and followed her stare.
              “What do you see?”
              “I’m not sure. I thought I saw something move down there.”
              “Could be,” Decius replied, looking up and around for any other movement, “I have never become acquainted with what the Collegia have abandoned down here. But whatever it is, we should keep moving. This place is no friend to us.”
              He took her by the hand and pulled her gently toward the far side of the bridge. Still staring into the water, she took a step and then yanked her hand away, pointing it into the darkness below.
              “Look!” she hissed, “there it is again! It’s some sort of snake, or…” she trailed off, peering into the gloom.
              “A snake would be the least of our worries,” Decius said, pulling her along again. They reached the opposite side just as the water below surged and churned. Decius shoved Ephia into the hall ahead of him.
              “Run!” he hissed.
              “What is it?!” Ephia gasped, her green eyes wide with fear. Decius made no answer except to hurry down the hall, checking for pursuit over his shoulder with the khopesh held ready. The hall ended abruptly at an aged door of oak. Decius found it locked, and it resisted his thrown shoulder, though the wood began to splinter.
              “Damn,” he swore, “Hold this, I need to cast the charm of opening.” He pushed the khopesh into Ephia’s hands and focused his mind upon the door. His thoughts were immediately interrupted by a shrill scream from Ephia. She flattened herself against the wall and pointed the khopesh toward the bridge.
              Decius followed her outstretched hand and looked to the entrance to the hall. There he saw a writhing mass of tentacles slowly advancing into the hall. They reached up from below the bridge but advanced as if they could see what lay before them, spreading out to block all passage past them. Decius found himself momentarily frozen with fear at the sight of this strange creature’s appendages. Ephia raised the khopesh above her head. 
              Decius returned his attention to the door, shutting out all distraction as he cast a simple charm of opening. The lock clicked as the bolt retracted, and he kicked the aging portal open. 
              “Come on, Ephia!” he called, pulling her towards the door. She tore her attention from the approaching tentacles and bolted for the door. From the bridge chamber, they heard an inhuman roar, a cry that reverberated through the stone and shook dust and dirt from the ceiling. Both Decius and Ephia froze in terror, halfway through the doorway to safety.
              The mass of tentacles came surging forward, dancing about each other in intricate, hypnotic patterns. They bludgeoned Decius aside and wrapped around Ephia’s pale, white legs. She was pulled from her feet and sprawled in the dusty hallway on her back, the lantern and khopesh clattering away. Decius sprang forward as the monster dragged her down the hall, toward the bridge and the water below. Ephia kicked and screamed, grabbing at the dust-covered floor and the rough masonry walls in vain. The tentacles that grasped her wound their way up her body, tightening their grip.
              Decius snatched up the fallen khopesh and darted past the thrashing Ephia to slice at the tentacles. The monster somehow saw him coming, and a thick, meaty tentacle struck out, wrapping around his sword arm. Decius tossed the blade to his other hand and swung down at the appendage wrapped around his own wrist. 
              The bronze blade struck home, slashing a deep wound in the tentacle’s dark brown flesh. The same inhuman roar sounded from the monster’s distant maw, and Decius struck again. The tentacle released him and withdrew, its tip hanging loose by a shred of damaged flesh. Freed, Decius returned his attention to Ephia, who was nearly to the bridge. The tentacles wrapped around her tighter as she fumbled a series of incantations in a panic. 
              Her arms pinned against her side, Ephia’s options for sorcery were limited. She kicked against their grip, but they only wound tighter around her. Seeing him standing over her with blade raised, she cried out “Don’t hit me too!” Decius hacked at the grasping tentacles, trying to fend off the others that attacked his back. He hastily conjured a burst of flames that licked the writhing appendages and the water that clung to them sizzled in the heat. 
              A severed tentacle went flying, and then another. Ichor pooled on the stone floor, rapidly congealing with the dust. The monster roared in pain and frustration until at last it released the girl and retracted its tentacles into the dark recesses of the bridge chamber.
              Decius grabbed Ephia by the arm and pulled her through the old wooden door, slamming it behind them. They stood against the wall for a moment, panting with the exertion.
              “What in all the realms was that?!” Ephia demanded. “I have never heard nor read of such a monster.”
              “Nor have I,” Decius replied, “doubtless it is some experiment or beast brought here and abandoned by a careless sorcerer of the Collegia.”
              “If I had known that was here, I would have let the warlocks kill us,” Ephia gasped. “Its touch felt so…” she struggled to find the words before settling on “foul.”
              “It was not so alien to our world that it was impervious to the touch of bronze,” Decius said cheerfully. “Nor to my fire spell.”
              “Thank Cerasai for that,” Ephia said, picking up her discarded lantern. Looking around at their new surroundings, they could see a series of tunnels branching away from the small crossing chamber in which they stood. “Which way do we go now?” Ephia asked.
              Decius had no answer. The Catacombs were ancient and even more poorly mapped than the library cellars. The collegia and the Arcani tried their best to seal off every entrance, but every once in a while, something got out or someone got in. He had some experience in the catacombs, but no knowledge of where he was now. None of the sections he knew from past adventures down here overlapped with each other. 
              “I am unsure,” he admitted at last. “The last bit we were in was uncommonly straightforward. This unmappable mess is more in line with what I know of these tunnels. I will need to look around.” He went to each tunnel opening and inspected the walls and floors for any sign of habitation or direction.
              “You’ve been here before?” Ephia asked.
              “A few times. We discovered an entrance to the Catacombs underneath the East Cloister. We would sneak down at night to explore it or to hide our contraband from room checks. We encountered a few strange beasts in there, but nothing like that monster in the water. The Arcani sealed it up in my final year here.
              “Another time, someone discovered an old passage in the gardens by Oura’s shrine. That led to a series of chambers that merchants from across the Way were using to store goods. The Collegia evicted them and closed the passage, which made the merchants quite angry.”
              Ephia moved up next to him, holding the lantern out so that he could better inspect the tunnels. 
              “I have no idea where we are,” he admitted after a fruitless search. “However, I hear running water from that way. We may be able to find a pipe or something that will lead to the surface.”
              Ephia looked around at the darkened tunnels and frowned. The chill of being so far underground in the dark was settling it, and her naked skin was breaking out in goosebumps. Decius saw her delightful pink nipples stiffen and rise from her breasts. The sight of them made his cock hard again.
              “Lead the way,” Ephia said finally, taking no notice of his cock. Decius put the matter aside. There would be time to take the girl to bed later. For now, they had to escape and call down the Arcani on the thieving warlocks.
Venturing down the tunnel he had chosen, they eventually came to a stream of clear, free-flowing water. From a narrow spout in the ceiling, water poured into a stone trough and ran across the chamber before disappearing into the far wall. Decius now came to realize that his exertions of both violent and amorous natures had left him quite thirsty. Still, such a clean source of water in a place of so much foulness struck him as odd.
              “Though I am quite thirsty, I am loathe to drink from that,” Ephia said, raising her lantern to the water. Decius agreed with her instincts, instead looking around for further signs of where they were. 
              “Look,” Ephia said, and Decius turned to her. She raised her hand and in it was a small, chipped cup. “The dust on this is not as thick. And I think I see footprints on the floor.” She pointed, and upon moving closer Decius could make them out, leading from the water’s trough out of the room and down a tunnel. The prints were small and unmistakably of bare feet, but it was the first sign of humans Decius had seen since they entered the place.
              “What would leave such prints and who would drink from this water?” she asked. Decius shrugged, at a loss. “Do we follow them?” she asked in a quiet, concerned voice. Decius was again at a loss. He pointed at the other exit to the chamber, back the way they had come.
              “It seems a better choice than trying our luck back there. Who knows, maybe this will lead to street urchins on the surface.”
              “When was the last time you saw street urchins near the Collegia?” Ephia asked. 
              “On the other side of Capitol Hill,” Decius admitted, “but I have no other ideas.”
              Ephia frowned. “Very well, I will follow your lead again. It hasn’t gotten me killed so far.”
They crept as quietly as they could down the new tunnel, following the faint trail of footprints as best they could. They entered a new junction chamber, but after a short debate they decided to continue following the trail instead of choosing a new path, for the new tunnels were as indistinguishable as the last set.
              Decius approached the chamber ahead with a measure of trepidation. Something about the room set him on edge. He passed a pile of discarded rat bones, gnawed and broken. He paused to listen but heard only the uneasy breathing of himself and Ephia. With nothing to hold them, they crept into the room.
              It was a wide chamber with a low ceiling, with a well-worn path down the center. To each side of the path were rude huts made of bone frames and old cloth as coverings. Decius immediately felt that they were not alone.
From the shadows emerged a small creature, its hairy head reaching only to Ephia’s waist. It was two-legged and moved upright with a considerable hunch. It had large, yellow eyes slit like a cat’s and a potbelly. Two narrow ears stuck up from its head, like those of a bat. The gray-skinned creature was naked, covered in fine hair that was brown at the head and gray near its feet. Between its fat legs was a cock the size of a normal man’s, though grotesquely out of proportion on the small creature’s body, hanging to its knobby little knees. Presented, possibly for the first time, with an opportunity to use it, the creature was hopping with excitement. It bared its teeth at them, showing small, sharp teeth in a wide red mouth.
              It cackled and danced before him, singing in a shrill voice and words Decius could not understand. Ephia drew up close to him, clutching her lantern and putting her hand on his sword arm.
              “What is that thing?” she whispered in fright.
              “It is a gremlin. I’ve heard stories of them living underneath the city, creeping out to steal trinkets while people sleep. But I’ve never seen one in the flesh here.”
              The creature’s cackling drew more of its kind, and slowly they began to emerge from the darkness, some crawling across the tops of the huts while others moved toward them along the floor. Decius cautiously backed toward the opening they had entered through, raising the khopesh before him.
              “Stop!” a little voice screeched, and the gremlins stopped their dancing and cackling, though their excitement did not abate. From the far end of the chamber came a white-haired gremlin, crowned with a ring of discarded wire about his head. He carried a broken pole with him, presumably as a pathetic staff of office.
              Decius raised his hands in what he hoped they would recognize as a gesture of calm.
              “We mean you no harm,” he said. “We have gotten lost down here and we are looking for the way out.”
              The white-haired gremlin came to a stop in front of them, pointing his staff at Decius and then Ephia.
              “You are humans? From the surface?” it rasped, surprisingly in a broken imitation of the Low Auric tongue. Decius found the very sound of its voice intolerable but choked down his irritation.
              “We are looking for a door to the surface,” Decius said. “It will be bronze and warded. You may have seen humans come through it before.”
              “I know doors,” the creature screeched. “You want door?”
              “I want a door to the surface,” Decius insisted. “Do you know of a door to the surface?”
              “I know all doors!” the gremlin proclaimed, raising its arms towards the ceiling and straightening its crooked back to its full height. Then he returned to a crouch and squinted at Decius.
              “What you give in return?” he asked warily. 
              Decius grimaced. He did not like the idea of giving up either his weapon or his light source to these creatures, but he had nothing else to trade.
              “If your door takes me to the surface, I will leave you with this blade and the lantern,” he offered. 
              “No,” the gremlin spat. “We no need light. We no need that,” he said pointing to the khopesh, “Too big, we not carry it.”
              “Well,” Decius said, battling his own exasperated tone, “what can I trade you?”
              “That,” the gremlin king said, pointing to Ephia. “We need more us.”
              “What?” Ephia scoffed. 
              “We breed!” the gremlin king cried, grabbing his oversized member from between his legs. The other gremlins joined his cry, grabbing their cocks with both hands and stroking them.
              Ephia grabbed the khopesh from Decius’ hands in horror and pointed it towards the gremlins. “None of you little devils are going to have me! Take one step closer and I’ll cut your cocks off!” She pointed it frantically back and forth while the gremlins shrieked and dove for cover while others menacingly pointed back at her with clawed hands. One of them leapt forward, extending a hand to grab at her bare legs and exposed sex. She kicked it viciously, sending the creature sprawling backwards. The other gremlins ran for cover, while three charged out to form a protective barrier in front of their king.
              Decius stretched his arms out in front of her, trying to calm the situation before a battle broke out. 
              “I can’t do that,” he told the gremlin king above the din, and the little creature scowled. 
              “We no trade for you,” it said in its awful screech, “man no good. Only woman. We each take her, one after another. Strongest of us make more us. We keep her as broodmother to all tribe!”
              “Not going to happen,” Decius declared, though the thought of watching the little village of gremlins take Ephia was strangely exciting to him. They were so short they would need to bend her over on all fours. Then they could each form a line and fuck her until they came inside her. The image was perversely erotic to him, though Ephia was doubtlessly not amenable to the idea. Perhaps a set of stocks, he wondered.
              Snapping himself back to the situation at hand, he gently wrested the khopesh from Ephia’s hands. 
              “I cannot trade the girl to you,” he said to the king, who stamped his feet in anger. “She is mine, she will be my broodmother.” He hoped that would get the message across.
              The gremlin king waved its staff at him in one hand, while still holding its cock in the other. 
              “You no trade! You leave us with no broodmother! We no help!” he turned to go.
              “Wait,” Decius called. “I have another proposal.” The king half-turned back to face him, his yellow eyes darting past Decius to Ephia and her nakedness. He continued stroking himself as he leered at her.
              “Take me to this door to the surface and I will show you a way to the surface, where there are other women you can take.”
              “Decius, are you mad?” Ephia hissed.
              “Calm down, girl,” he whispered back, “I know what I’m doing here. Now step out where they can see you in all your naked glory. I need them thinking about breeding, not my offer.”
              Ephia did as she was told, stepping out from behind him and raising the lantern above her pretty blonde head to shower herself in its cool white light. She looked like a statue of a goddess, nude and surrounded by tiny worshippers. The gremlins emerged from hiding to ogle her, cocks in hand.
              “There is an entire city above, big village,” he continued to the gremlin king, whose attention was wholly focused on the spectacle before him. “You can find a dozen women up there, many women just like her. Take them at night, bring them down here and make your tribe grow.”
              “Yes, yes,” the king murmured over the sound of his hand on his cock, “many women, many more us.”
              “You can’t be thinking of going through with this,” Ephia whispered furiously, “You would give them a woman to be their brood slave?”
              “Calm down, Ephia,” Decius cut in before she could give the game away, “We are going to the Arcani already. We might as well give them two foes to turn their swords on.”
              That calmed her down. Meanwhile, the gremlin king was coming around to the offer. The other gremlins crowded around him, chittering and screeching among themselves.
              “Yes!” he proclaimed at last, leering at Ephia again. “You give us surface, many women! We make broodmothers many! Each of us get broodmother, make many tribes!”
              “I agree,” Decius said, “but first you must show me to the door. The bronze door that the people use.”
              “Yes, yes,” the king muttered. “We show you door. Come, with me.” He turned and began to march from the room, his broken staff tapping on the stones with each step. 
              Carefully, Decius and Ephia moved through the village, warily eyeing each hut for an ambush. Decius found himself concerned that, once in the middle of the village, the gremlins would all swarm him by some prearranged signal and take Ephia for themselves. He wished the girl a better fate that being the broodmother to a village of gremlins
              But the signal and ambush never came, and they passed through the village unharmed, though followed by many hungry stares. They went down the corridor after the white-haired gremlin and his entourage and were followed at a distance by another group of gremlins, who peered at them around corners and muttered to themselves. 
              Their path through the Catacombs wound around bends and up and down short flights of stairs, until at last they came to a flight that went up to a bronze door. 
              “There!” the king screeched. “There is door! You open door and show us way to women.”
              “Yes, that was the deal,” Decius agreed. He beckoned to Ephia and they began to climb the stairs together, keeping an eye out for wards the Arcani might have left. Decius spied a rune of warning inscribed on the stair before the door and stepped on it deliberately. His trained sorcerer’s mind detected the alarm it set off.
              He stepped up to the door and checked over his shoulder. The gremlins were waiting at the bottom of the stair, crouched in anticipation. He listened at the heavy bronze door, and heard muffled noises on the other side, but could not make out the specifics. Decius took a deep breath and cast the charm of opening. The bolts slid open.
              Clutching the khopesh in his hand, he pushed the door open. The room on the other side, for it was a room, was lit by candlelight. It was of masonry, and well maintained. He shoved it all the way opened and stopped.
              Opposite the portal, he was confronted by a shield wall of five men holding swords and wide shields emblazoned with the Emperor’s Eye; the symbol of the Arcani. Behind them stood five more men with flintlocks readied, and a man wearing the gold-trimmed red sash of an Arcani prefect.
              He raised his signet ring. “I am Decius Sallax Capricius and this is Ephia,” he continued, then gestured to the girl. 
              “Of the Senues family in Valair,” she added. 
              “There is a tribe of gremlins behind us, with whom we have bartered passage out of the Catacombs. They think we mean to let them out onto the surface.”
              “That we most certainly will not,” the prefect snapped in the native accent of the Imperial City. “What were you doing down in the cellars, naked?” he demanded.
              “We were in the lower Cellars when we encountered a group of thieves led by the rogue sorcerer Fabius Cinereus Aeramen. He was accompanied by two men from the Cabal of the Ebon Chalice and I suspect there are more. He stole a large tome from the Cellars.”
              The Arcani prefect smirked at the unanswered portion of his question.
              “Come in and close the door behind you,” he ordered. “Men, shoot any gremlin that comes running.”
              Decius stepped out of the doorway and heaved the door shut. Down below, the gremlins screeched at the betrayal.
              “Lie, you lie!” they shouted, “give us women! Many women for tribe! Humans lie!”
              The door slammed shut with a rattling bang and cut off their curses. 
              “Now that I’ve let you onto my side of the portal,” the prefect continued, “throw me your rings so that I might verify your story.”
              Decius and Ephia obeyed, now standing before the Arcani completely naked and without even jewelry. The prefect made a show of inspecting them and then threw them back.
              “Very well, your rings are convincing enough. Stand down, men.” The soldiers lowered their shields and flintlocks but did not disperse. “How long ago were these warlocks in the Cellars?”
              “Perhaps an hour or two,” Decius replied. “They will be gone by now, but I know where they are going.”
              “Well, where is it?” the prefect snapped, “I am not interested in playing your games, sorcerer.”
              “They will be at the Jester’s Cap,” Decius replied coolly. “They said they planned to take ship in the early morning.”
              “They said?” the prefect asked suspiciously, “To you?”
              “To each other, I merely overheard,” Decius replied. 
              “I see. You just happened to overhear.” He looked away, down the room’s connecting hallway and called to someone unseen, “Titus, gather a score of men. We have warlocks at the Jester’s Cap.”
              “You will come with us, sorcerer,” the prefect said sternly. “You must point out these warlocks to me.” To one of his men he commanded, “get these two some clothes.”
 
              An hour later, in new clothes, they waited with the Arcani in the shadows outside the Jester’s Cap, a modest tavern and inn a half-mile from the Collegia’s gates. The prefect Aelius had dispatched his second with half the group to watch the far side of the Cap. There was no way out. Decius tried to peer across the street into the inn’s common room, hoping to see Aeramen reading his book. Instead, he saw only common folk ending their night.
              A runner came from the opposite side. He slipped through the darkened street to stand next to Aelius.
              “We are in position,” he said. Aelius nodded and stepped forward, his men falling in line. They drew sword of bronze and marched mechanically to the door of the inn. Two men took up guard outside while the rest plunged in, Decius following. 
              Inside, the tables were sparsely occupied and none by men Decius recognized. Aelius looked to Decius and shook his head. Patrons and the innkeep recognized the Arcani badges on their collars and assumed nonthreatening stances. Leaving a guard in the common room, they went up the stairs. Moving with practiced speed, they threw open each room and searched the occupants. Decius recognized at once the man who had attacked him in the library with the khopesh. 
              “That’s one of them!” he called out to Aelius, who ordered him men to seize the warlock. The Laraeboi man responded with a blast of fire, but the incantations and bronze amulets of the Arcani protected them. They slashed through the man’s sorcerous weavings and brought him down. Decius did not recognize the other occupant of the room, but his pack had the trappings of a warlock as well, so the Arcani arrested him, too.
              In the next room, Decius recognized the demonbinder and the Arcani took him down as easily as the first man, arresting his bedmate in the same struggle. All four men’s packs betrayed their craft and they were taken away in shackles. 
But Aeramen remained unaccounted for. 
              “Where is the last man? The rogue with the stolen book?” Aelius demanded, but Decius had no answer. “Did you warn him?” the prefect demanded.
              “Warn him? I turned you onto these sorcerers in the first place!” Decius snapped back. 
              “I have no patience for the games of sorcerers,” the prefect growled. “A renegade from the collegia is a renegade from the emperor! I will not suffer traitors.”
              “I am no friend of his,” Decius replied coldly, “If I knew where he was, I would send you there.”
              Aelius said nothing, but his eyes shot daggers at Decius. For his part, Decius was unconcerned. Today had been one of his more amicable interactions with the Arcani, so he counted that as a stroke of luck.
              A young soldier of the Arcani approached them. “Prefect, all the warlocks have been identified. They are Adenet Rousse, an unsanctioned sorcerer from Armannais, Vanules Gruitt, a demonbinder, Rhamenes of Thespum, a deserter from the Oracular Temple of Ishar, and Praxte, formerly a prince of Sabras.”
              “Interesting company your renegade keeps,” the prefect mused. “A prince, an oracular acolyte, a demonbinder and a foreign spy.” Turning to his man, the prefect returned to giving orders. “March them to the Castle and throw them in the dungeon. Put out the word that we are seeking the arrest of Fabius Cinereus Aeramen, who has stolen an arcane tome from the library. Send men to patrol the docks and the roads out of the city. He will not escape us.”
              Leaving the Arcani to their work, Decius went down to Ephia, who was standing in the inn’s fenced courtyard with her back against the wall and her eyes half closed in weariness.
              “What a night!” he said, taking a place on the wall next to her.
              “And it’s not over yet,” she replied. “I will be going back into the cellars to retrieve my clothes. Would you like to come along?”
              “I suppose I need to do the same,” he said. “And I still have not found my scroll.”
              “The Master Archivist will be there in the morning,” Ephia reassured him, then looked to the reddening sky. “And morning is not so far away.”
              “Then back to the collegia it is,” Decius declared, but Ephia made a sad face. “What is it now, girl?”
              “It has been an exhausting night. I thought that perhaps you might delay your departure and spend the day resting? In my bed?” she proposed.
              “With that look I doubt I’ll get much rest!” he laughed, cupping her chin in his hand. “But I suppose I can delay my departure for a day. This affair with the warlocks will make a good excuse to be late.”
              Ephia smiled radiantly. “And when you’re next in the Imperial City—”
              “Yes, yes!” Decius cut her off, “the emperor’s orgy, I haven’t forgotten my promise!”
              “Now let us go back to the library to find our clothes, and then to my bedroom to lose them again!”
              Arm in arm, they went off into the early morning city. From the mouth of a darkened alley, Fabius Cinereus Aeramen watched them go, his manticore-skin sack over his shoulder. Scowling, the tall sorcerer turned and vanished down the alley before the Arcani saw.