Angelfire | The Whispering Wall #3

Ten: Grave Passage

"I don't like where this is going." Jordan glanced around the graveyard, but the shadows around them remained still. "It didn't go well last time."

"I didn't bring an axe." Akiva glanced at him, dark eyes twinkling mischief in the light of their lantern. "This isn't what you think it is."

Jordan glanced over the monument; dark stone, with ornate carvings at each corner, it stood a couple of feet higher than most of the headstones in the yard. It wasn't an active cemetery; it was a relic of the days when the dead quarter had still been alive and bustling under Orthanian direction. The script on the side of the monument had been worn to illegibility by weather and lichen, which grew thick and mottled over the stone's surface, but the grandeur of it still remained, an impressive piece of stonework that must have cost a great deal at the time.

So he winced a little at the sight of Akiva prying one side of the monument off with a crowbar. He could only imagine what Grace would say if she could see it.

He hoped his sister never met Akiva, at any rate. Scruffy and rogue-ish and friendly-looking, the man had no scruples at all. Unlike Arlen or Usk, who looked like they definitely would shank someone in a dark alley given half a chance, Akiva was deceptively jovial; the type of criminal to smile to your face, buy you a drink, and then use a slap on the back as an opportunity to slide a knife in and steal your coin-purse.

He also haunted graveyards with more enthusiasm than most Bone Wights and smelled permanently of grave dirt.

The wall came loose with a scraping crack that made Jordan's teeth ache, then fell into the grass at Akiva's feet.

"Nict, that was a tough one." The man snatched up his lantern and held it inside the entrance of the tomb. "See? Looky here."

Jordan crept forwards, then startled. The monument was not merely a marker; thrown into deep relief by the flickering firelight was a set of steps, going a short way down into the earth before disappearing around a sharp corner.

"This is an Orthanian death-passage." Akiva's voice echoed uncomfortably. "There's no body down here. Might be a pot of ashes, but you can stop shitting your pants now."

"I was not shitting anything," Jordan grumbled, peering apprehensively at the passage. "Are you sure that's not going to collapse on us?"

His only experiences of sets of stairs leading down into dark passages had all, to a one, ended in near-death experiences. They always had something horrible waiting at the bottom, and he couldn't help the icy hand that tightened around his gut at the sight.

"Mostly." Akiva twiddled a finger in his ear and inspected the results. He looked supremely unconcerned.

"You can't go for anything more solid than that?" He glanced again at the weather-beaten side of the grave marker and wondered how long it had been standing here. Probably longer than anyone would deem safe for entry.

Except Akiva, of course, whose standard for 'safe for entry' was that it hadn't collapsed yet.

"Nothing's a certainty." Akiva flicked something away into the dark of the graveyard and hefted the lantern. "After me."

Jordan was only too happy to let the Devil go first. Before he stepped inside he glanced once more at the darkness surrounding them, sending his senses further than physical limits to ensure they were alone. As he reached the usual safe boundaries of his magic, it prickled across his skin. He peered into the gloom, but there weren't enough active runes to see by, and while the church itself had a net, its light didn't reach far. But he would know immediately if whatever living thing he had just touched was big enough to be human or demon. It was probably a shadeling or a bird.