The Thing in the Basement
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The Thing in the Basement
Queen Elysa followed Jenavere down the dark, damp staircase. Torchlight flickered against the stone walls. The heat and stench of the place crawled upwards and closed around Elysa like a shroud. She had not visited these dungeons in months. She'd had no cause to. Enemies of the realm seldom allowed themselves to be taken captive. Those who did simply killed themselves and returned to their clans.
The two women reached the bottom of the stone stairs. A short hallway extended before them, its low ceilings awakening a claustrophobia in Elysa that reminded her of the first few years of her life. All those years of running from the King's assassins, creeping through tunnels and hiding in basements. A panic rose in Elysa's chest and took hold of her heart. She closed her eyes and breathed, willing the feeling away. She felt Jenavere's eyes on her, and became even more panicked. A queen should not show weakness in front of her subjects. Even subjects as loyal and friendly as Jenavere.
After a few moments, Elysa squashed the claustrophobia, stuffed it back down into the dark place where she kept her Isparian memories, and opened her eyes. She wiped a film of sweat from her upper lip and nodded to Jenavere. Jenavere did not question. She simply pointed forward.
Six cells lined the hallway. The doors to five of them hung slightly ajar. The endmost cell on the right was closed. "It's like nothing else I've seen," Jenavere said. "At first, I thought it was another variation of the Burun. Some creature they've kept hidden from view. But the more I study it, the less likely that appears." She shook her head. "No, this... this is something new."
Elysa gritted her teeth. "Show me," she commanded.
Jenavere walked to the cell, pulled a heavy iron key from her pocket, and opened the cage.
The first thing Elysa noticed was the stench. The corpse's noxious metallic reek forced its way down her throat and dredged up a searing wave of bile. Her eyes watered. She blinked away the tears, swallowed back the nausea, and focused on the rotting mass of flesh before her.
The thing was as large as a cow, though it appeared more bloated than muscular. Its flesh was a sickening shade of pink and was covered in boils, warts, and lesions. It had two massive, trunk-like legs, and some sort of sharp spine jutting from its forehead. But the most disturbing part of its body was its mouth. The beast's massive jaws were full of hundreds of teeth. The power of the thing's bite must be enormous. That mouth seemed to take up half its body size. Elysa grimaced. "This creature was built for eating."
"And that it did," answered Jenavere. "It slaughtered several cows, as well as a few of your subjects. A swordsman by the name of Brayden Von Grohl finally killed the thing near Cragstone. He caught up to it just before it could slay one of our Criers."
Elysa squatted and pointed to a long slit along the belly of the beast. "What is this?"
"Brayden Von Grohl, your Highness. He cut it open. Found some fish, some boots, an apple. And toast."
"Quite an appetite." Elysa stood and turned to Jenavere. "Burn this thing. We don't know what it's capable of. I don't want it springing back to life and rampaging through my castle."
Jenavere nodded, "Of course, your Highness."
Elysa made her way down the hall, but stopped when she reached the stairs. "Jenavere," she said.
"Yes?"
"When you speak to Antius next, tell him..." Elysa struggled for the words. She did not know what she wanted to tell him, but she felt she needed to say something. That feeling that had come over her that night in her bedroom still clung to her heart. That fear that she would not see him again. "Tell him to be careful."
"Of course." Jenavere nodded.
"Thank you." Elysa walked up the stairs, quickening her pace as she neared the exit from the dungeon. She made her way to her quarters and shut the doors behind her.
Elysa leaned back against the heavy oak doors and closed her eyes. A new creature was always a fell portent. And there was too much of a coincidence between this monster's appearance and that of the Viamontian in Rithwic. She could not help but assume there was some link between the two.
Elysa opened her eyes and looked at the bow on the wall, that weapon Antius had taken to calling the Queenslayer. It beckoned to her with its promise of a simpler life. A life of smiting one's enemies, defending one's family, and ignoring the responsibilities of the throne. How she wished to take up that bow and flee this castle. She would take her child and her lover and find her way to Asheron. Turn her back on the citizens who cared not for her rule or the steps she had taken to protect them. Live the life of a free woman.
It was tempting, yes. But it was not the right thing to do. Not yet.