Page 62 of Silent Lucidity

Lips peeling back in a snarl, the azhera shook his head and stepped aside. His fur slowly eased, but his pupils remained dilated. “Third door on the right. Mind yourself. He doesn’t care for trouble.”

Tenthil nodded and drew Abella more firmly against his side. He walked past the azhera and between the two tall cren, who said nothing as they held their gazes upon him. Tenthil felt their stares on his back as he led his mate down the narrow alley. Though he kept his eyes forward, watching for the door the azhera had indicated, Tenthil focused on his hearing, listening for any sounds behind them. A primal part of him wanted to attack the azhera to prove his dominance, to establish an order. To make it clear that Abella washis.

He released a ragged breath when they reached the door. The entry was plain, unmarked, even a bit rundown, but Tenthil had expected nothing different. Lifting a hand, he pressed the button on the inside of the doorframe.

A few seconds later, the door’s maglocks released with a resonating, metallicthunk.

Tenthil reached down, grasped the handle, and looked at Abella. “Stay close.”

She nodded and leaned against him a little more as he pushed the door open.

A long, dimly lit hallway stretched beyond the doorway, partially blocked from Tenthil’s view by another cren, this one with electric blue eyes that would’ve been at home on many of the holographic projections throughout the Undercity. Tenthil instinctively shifted to walk in front of Abella and shield her from the new threat.

Her fingers brushed against his back, telling him she was there, urging him to remain calm.

The cren’s expression didn’t change save for a slight twitch of his long, pointed ears. He turned and extended his arm, pointing to the stairs at the end of the hall.

Tenthil clenched his jaw, released a slow, quiet breath through his nostrils, and nodded. The tight space would’ve set him on edge even before he’d betrayed the Order, but now his senses were on full alert. Danger lurked around every corner, behind every door. The Order could strike anywhere, any time.

He led Abella past the cren, down the hall—passing several closed doors—and up three flights of stairs. The last flight opened on a wide landing with a single blast door, its metal etched with intricate isometric patterns from top to bottom. The pair of vorgal guards standing to either side of the entry looked as big and sturdy as the door itself. There was no more pretense here; they wore undisguised, high-grade combat armor and held expensive auto-blasters.

The vorgal on the left dipped his gaze toward Tenthil’s waist. “You carrying?”

Tenthil came to a stop a few paces away from them. “Everyone is, around here.”

“Boss doesn’t care,” the vorgal said. “Just likes me to remind customers that he’s covered by four autocannons in there. You go for your piece, you leave as a bag of ashes.”

“Understood.”

The vorgal raised a hand and turned the inside of his wrist toward his mouth. “Let them in.”

The etched door lifted off the floor silently and disappeared into the wall above, revealing a large room lit by red and purple wall panels. Tenthil walked forward with Abella slowly, ignoring the restlessness in his fingers that urged him to draw his weapon. He wasn’t used to trusting anyone beyond Abella; this forger’s reputation didn’t assuage Tenthil’s misgivings. Reputations often lost meaning when people found themselves at odds with the Master.

As they entered the chamber, the door slid shut behind them, leaving only that moody, violet-red light. Several long, low couches ran to either side of the entrance, and large, clear-glassed water tanks filled with strange, bioluminescent water creatures adorned the walls between the light panels.

The carpet was dark save for a two-meter-wide strip leading from the entrance to the far side of the room, which bore the same isometric pattern etched on the outside face of the door. The colors came together well, the reds and purples strengthened by their contrast to the black of the floor and the furniture.

“Well, this place a few steps up from Cullion’s,” Abella muttered. “Maybe a whole flight of stairs up.”

Tenthil agreed, though he saw it as a needless display of wealth, regardless. He shifted his gaze toward the far end of the room, where several wide steps led to a raised platform atop which rested a long worktable, several computer terminals, and at least three dozen holographically-projected screens and control panels. It was also where the only other occupant of the room—discounting the water creatures—stood.

The forger, Alkorin, remained behind the table, facing Tenthil and Abella as they approached. He was a sedhi, with sharp, angular facial features, long, curving, black horns extending from his temples, and three faintly glowing yellow eyes—one of which was positioned vertically in the center of his forehead. That third eye was turned toward Tenthil and Abella while the other two were intent on whatever work he was doing on the table.

Tenthil came to a stop a few meters from the steps and waited until the forger finally lifted his face toward them.

The sedhi spread his arms to either side and smiled. He was clad only in a loose, silken red robe with billowing sleeves that hung loose about his shoulders and bared the toned muscles of his gray-skinned torso. Glowing yellow markings flowed from his upper chest toward his shoulders and neck, reaching all the way to his face, where they nearly circled his left eye. Long, jet black hair, swept to one side, hung past his shoulders.

“New customers. Always a delight,” he said in unaccented universal speech. “Who, may I ask, referred you to me?”

“No one,” Tenthil replied.

The forger’s smile tipped up at one corner as he lowered his arms. “Good. An individual of discretion. I’ve little time or interest to work with anyone lacking it.”

Abella eased out from behind Tenthil and cocked her head, staring intently at the sedhi. “What’s it like having three eyes?”

The forger’s third eye opened a little wider, and the slitted pupil within it dilated and contracted. His lips parted as he laughed, displaying his fangs. He walked slowly around the table, his long, thick tail swishing in the air behind him, and descended the steps.

“Normal, at least from my perspective.” The forger narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, what are you?”

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