THE SEVEN FOLD CONVENANT

What Waits Below

The thumping stopped.

Kaelen stood in the empty street with his knife drawn and listened. Nothing. No wind. No birds. Just silence and the distant drip of water somewhere underground.

"That's worse," Dorn said.

"What?"

"The noise stopping. At least when it was thumping, we knew where it was."

Kaelen agreed. He scanned the buildings. Doors open, windows dark. No movement. No voices. Ironhold had the feel of a place that had been abandoned in a hurry.

"Your uncle's house," Kaelen said. "Where is it?"

"North end of town. Near the mine entrance."

"Take us there."

They moved through the streets in a tight group. Fen walked backward, crossbow raised, watching their trail. Aldric stayed close to Kaelen. Dorn led, his footsteps sure even in the dark.

The buildings here were different from human settlements. Lower to the ground, built of stone instead of wood. Thick walls, small windows. Dwarven architecture. Built to withstand siege and cold and anything else the mountains threw at them.

Dorn stopped at a door near the end of the street. It was closed. Locked.

"This is it."

Kaelen knocked. Three quick raps, then two slow ones. A signal he had learned in the scouts. Anyone inside would recognize it as military.

No answer.

He tried the handle. Locked.

"Stand back."

He kicked the door. It held. He kicked again. The frame splintered and the door swung open.

Inside was dark. Kaelen stepped through first, knife ready.

The room was a mess. Chairs overturned. Papers scattered across the floor. A half-eaten meal on the table, cold and congealed. But no bodies. No blood.

"Uncle Harlan!" Dorn called. "It's me! Dorn!"

Silence.

Then a sound from the back room. A scrape. Something moving.

Kaelen motioned for everyone to stay still. He crept toward the back room and pushed the door open.

A dwarf sat in the corner, his back against the wall, a pickaxe clutched in his hands. He was old, his beard gray and matted, his face streaked with dirt and tears. His eyes were wide.

"Uncle Harlan," Dorn said from behind Kaelen. "It's alright. It's me."

The old dwarf blinked. Recognition slowly replaced the fear in his eyes.

"Dorn? What are you doing here?"

"We came looking for you. What happened?"

Harlan lowered the pickaxe. His hands were shaking.

"They came two nights ago. Men in gray coats. They went into the deep shaft. Said they were looking for something. Told us to stay out of their way."

"And?"

"And then the noises started." Harlan's voice dropped. "The thumping. Like something was hitting the walls. Something big. The miners refused to go back down. So the men in gray coats started taking them."

"Taking them where?"

"Into the shaft. They said they needed workers. Any who refused were..." He stopped. Swallowed. "I heard screams. Dorn. I heard screams coming up from the deep tunnels. And then nothing."

Kaelen crouched beside the old dwarf. "How many men did they have?"

"Twelve. Maybe fifteen. Led by a tall man. Not like us. Too tall. Too thin."

The creature from the gorge. Or something like it.

"How long ago did they go down?"

"Yesterday morning. They took the last of the miners with them. Everyone else fled. I stayed to wait for my brother's boy." Harlan looked at Dorn. "I didn't know if you were alive."

"I'm alive." Dorn's voice was rough. "And we're getting you out of here."

"No." Kaelen stood. "We need him."

Dorn turned on him. "He's an old man. He's terrified. We can't—"

"We need a guide. Someone who knows the deep tunnels. Your uncle just told us the men in gray coats went down there. They're looking for the same thing we are."

"The Black Vault," Aldric said quietly.

Harlan's head snapped up. "Where did you hear that name?"

"From Corvin Veyr," Kaelen said. "I'm his son."

Harlan stared at him. Then he laughed. It was a hollow sound. No humor in it.

"Corvin Veyr. I remember him. He came here nine years ago. Asked the same questions. Wanted to see the deep shafts." Harlan shook his head. "I told him to leave. Told him nothing good lived down there. He didn't listen."

"What did he find?"

"He found the door. The one my grandfather sealed. He said it was a vault. Said it had writing on it older than anything else in Avarra." Harlan looked at Kaelen. "He said he was going to bring back help. Men who could open it properly. He never came back."

Kaelen had known his father was investigating something. He had not known he had found the vault. That changed things. If Corvin had seen the door, he might have left something behind. Notes. Records.

"Did he leave anything? Papers? Maps?"

Harlan nodded slowly. "He left a book. Said if he didn't come back, I should hide it. I put it in the mine. The upper tunnels. Somewhere no one would look."

"Take us to it."

Harlan stood. His legs were unsteady but he managed. Dorn moved to support him. The old dwarf shook him off.

"I'm fine. Just old." He looked at Kaelen. "You're really his son?"

"Yes."

"You have his eyes. Same way of looking at people. Like you're measuring them for a coffin."

Kaelen did not respond. He was not sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

Harlan grabbed a lantern from the table and lit it. "Follow me. And stay quiet. If the men in gray coats hear us, we're all dead."

They followed him through the back of the house and into a tunnel that opened behind the building. The mine entrance. It was larger than Kaelen had expected. Thick support beams held up a ceiling twenty feet high. Cart tracks ran into the darkness.

The thumping sound had stopped. But now Kaelen heard something else. A low hum, barely audible. Coming from deep below.

Harlan led them past the main shaft and into a side tunnel. This one was smaller, cramped. The walls were rough stone. The lantern light flickered across old pick marks.

"The upper tunnels are abandoned," Harlan said. "We stopped mining here fifty years ago. Nothing left but rock."

"Where did you hide the book?"

"Old storeroom. Near the end of this tunnel."

They walked for ten minutes. The tunnel branched twice, but Harlan never hesitated. He knew this place.

At the end of the tunnel was a wooden door. Harlan pushed it open and held up the lantern.

The storeroom was small. Shelves lined the walls, mostly empty. A table in the corner, covered in dust. And in the corner, a chest.

Harlan pointed at it. "There. I put it in there. With some of my grandfather's tools."

Kaelen opened the chest. Inside was a leather-bound book, wrapped in oilcloth. He unwrapped it carefully.

The cover was plain. No title. No symbol. He opened it to the first page.

His father's handwriting.

The door is real. I have seen it. The symbols match the ones in the tunnel and the ones on the map in the library. But there is more. The door is not a door. It is a lock. And the key is not a key. It is a person.

Kaelen read the next line.

The old stories say the first civilization created seven guardians. One for each race. The guardians were made to keep the vault sealed. They were bound to the door by blood and oath. If the guardians are dead, the lock is weak.

He turned the page.

I have found evidence that Voss is hunting the guardians. He has already killed three. If he kills the rest, the vault will open. Whatever is inside will wake up. And the seven races will not survive it.

Kaelen looked up. "We need to find the remaining guardians before Voss does."

"How many are left?"

The answer came from behind them.

"Three," a voice said. "But you're too late. I already found one of them."

Kaelen spun.

A man stood in the doorway of the storeroom. Tall. Too tall. His arms were too long, his fingers too many. His face was human enough, but the proportions were wrong. Like a painting that had been stretched.

In his right hand he held a chain. At the end of the chain was a woman. Dwarven. Bound and gagged. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"Her name is Yara," the creature said. "She is the guardian of the dwarven race. And she is going to open the vault for us."

Kaelen drew his knife.

The creature smiled. His teeth were too many, too sharp.

"You can try to stop me. But you should know something first." He rattled the chain. "There are two more guardians. The werewolf and the vampire. Voss already has the werewolf. The vampire is hiding in Noctharis. If you want to save them, you'll have to go through me."

He dropped the chain. It hit the stone floor with a clang.

"Or you can run. I'll give you a head start."

Kaelen did not run.