Within the Tunnels by Julie Steimle (read 50 shades of grey TXT) 📖

Eergvin grinned at Jafarr over the map. He handed him another map. Jafarr examined it and nodded as if he were looking at a familiar piece of homework.

“This one is of uppercity level six, not far from ISIC,” he said.

Orrlar looked up at Jafarr a moment and nodded. “It is too bad we don’t have a map that could lead us into ISIC. That’d be useful.”

Jafarr grimaced. “You want to break into ISIC? Why?”

Orrlar gave him a disappointed look as if he expected a different response.

“We want to break people out of ISIC,” Eergvin explained, shaking the map a little.

“Oh,” Jafarr said. Then cocking his head, he shrugged. “Then let me draw the map. The P.M.s had me working in ISIC for nearly a week. I know ways in and out of that place that lead right to this map.”

Peering at him with a stunned blink, Orrlar said, “Why didn’t you tell us that when you joined the rebellion?”

Jafarr grabbed a tighter hold on the map, feeling his face burn. “I was a bit occupied with getting into the rebellion to think about that. It skipped my mind.” Looking at the map, his face still burning, he said, “Besides being locked up in a place like that makes you want to forget you were ever there.”

His stern expression dropping slightly, Orrlar said, “I didn’t realize you had been locked there.”

“There are some things you try to forget,” Jafarr repeated.

Orrlar nodded slightly. He turned back to the map and then glanced back at Jafarr. “So will you draw up that map?”

Jafarr nodded, looking to Eergvin. The redhead winked at Jafarr and let a smile escape. Jafarr lifted his eyebrows and gazed at the map Orrlar was holding.

“Today?” Orrlar said, looking at the boy.

Taking a step back, Jafarr sheepishly nodded. “Yeah, today. Do you have a write pad or do you want me to do it on paper?”

Looking back at the map, Orrlar motioned over to the stack of black glow paper sitting next to the other stack of maps. Jafarr nodded again then walked over to the stack. Searching through them, he found most had writing on them already. Finding an incomplete sheet that he could write on was near impossible.

“There isn’t a map here you’d want me to erase is there?” Jafarr asked, anxious that he would annoy Orrlar more.

He could already hear the man’s low grumble, so he glanced at Eergvin for some sign that the man was not truly annoyed. Eergvin’s cautious expression showed that there was not much hope of that.

Eergvin stepped back from Orrlar to the map pile, to search through it also to hasten Jafarr’s search. Finding one, he held it in the dark and nodded. “This one should work. Everyone knows these tunnels.”

With a nod, Jafarr took it, set it on the near table and started to erase the lit parts. Eergvin walked back to Orrlar, only to stop when Jafarr exclaimed out loud. “Hey. This is that vent system we used with that stone carving.”

Orrlar moaned.

Wincing, Jafarr ducked his head and kept on erasing the map.

They worked in silence. The only real sound in the room came from the generators and the slight murmur between Eergvin and Orrlar. Jafarr’s map was nearly complete near the end of the hour, except for a few slight details he knew he missed but could not quite recall. All he needed was the other map that would lead them there. Without really thinking, Jafarr leaned over and pulled it out of Orrlar’s map pile. Comparing the two, Jafarr added the missing details, sketching them in carefully and then, after a moment, he glanced at the regular map and tapped it. There were Ancient marks on it, writing that he never expected to see on a construction map. He paled.

Jerking on Orrlar’s arm he held the map up for the man to see.

Thoroughly annoyed at being interrupted mid-sentence, Orrlar turned around and snapped at Jafarr sharply. “What is it?”

Jafarr was taken back for a second but he still held up the map for Orrlar to see. “Sorry sir, but this is important.” Pointing to the marks, “There is Ancient on this map. Why is there Ancient on a construction map?”

Orrlar took it and squinted, taking it very seriously.

“Ka’rren had a suspicious map this morning that also had Ancient on it. No map I know that was used for repairs when I was working used Ancient.” Jafarr folded his arms and leaned back.

Orrlar handed the map back to Jafarr. “So read it. What does it say?”

Jafarr took it.

“Let’s see… This says the east hall. The next part is smudged. I can only make out a reference to fire vents.” Pausing, he started to think out loud, “Fire vents, fire vents…”

Eergvin smirked. “Some half Seer Class boy. Jafarr, those are fire exhaust vents. Only seers can have fires. You should know that.”

Jafarr shook his head then nodded. “So they are, but why write it in Ancient?”

Orrlar placed a hand on Jafarr’s head and rubbed it, revealing a smile, the first one Jafarr had ever seen on him. “Some old builders used to think that seer items and homes were sacred, so apparently they also decided to construct them with the same regard. No doubt they had a seer help with the construction. That is a very old map.”

“When did they stop that practice?” Jafarr asked, growing more puzzled he hadn’t know that.

Orrlar shrugged. “Nearly four thousand years ago, I think. All the recent maps are in modern Arrassian.”

Nodding, Jafarr seemed to piece things together. “So if all Ancient on maps was usual for seer construction about four thousand years ago then it is possible that Ka’rren’s map is also around that old, except…” Jafarr closed his eyes trying to think. “Except why write about the re-comp factory and label a Tarrn home? How is that seer business?”

Orrlar furrowed his brow, pinching his lower lip in thought. Eergvin did likewise, folding his arms and frowning.

“That’s a tough one,” Orrlar said. Looking up at Jafarr, he repeated, “That is a tough one. Seers didn’t own factories or homes in the undercity. Their shrines might be marked and the venting marked but nothing else.”

Eergvin pulled the map again and shrugged. “I dunno, Jafarr. Why would a seer mark a Tarrn’s home?”

Suddenly Jafarr’s eyes lit up. Grinning he gazed at the map again and laughed.

“But they did!” Pointing to the map in Orrlar’s hands Jafarr smiled and read the words under one mark. “Ta’ren ma’ne, that’s people’s home. It is a code!”

Orrlar did not seem to get it. “Are you sure?”

Jafarr nodded, nearly hopping. “Yes! Look, my mother used to say that people often confused the word Tarrn with ta’ren. She once said that it was a joke some seers had, and at times if they wanted to talk about the Tarrns in public they’d just say ta’ren.”

“You remember that?” Eergvin asked, surprised.

Jafarr nodded matter-of-factly.

“But why would seers mark Tarrn homes?” Orrlar asked, pressing the issue.

Jafarr shook his head. “I don’t know, but they certainly didn’t do it for extermination purposes. I think they made these maps to help protect the Tarrns. My dad used to say that before the Surface Patrol split off from the People’s Military the rebellion kept better tabs on the Tarrns to keep them alive. Possibly these maps were something of our own that we lost. Didn’t we recover these from a storage shed the P.M.s kept?”

Orrlar nodded. “Yes, now that I think of it.”

“Ka’rren is convinced that the map is a P.M. conspiracy with the seers that go into the uppercity.”  Jafarr shook his head. “He tried to convince me of that earlier today. He is so eager to find proof to give him a reason to destroy the entire uppercity, he won’t even listen to anything else.”

The middle-aged man twisted up his mouth and licked his lips. “Ka’rren is determined, that’s true. He and your father used to have it out regularly. Your dad always liked the safe way—no bull headed raids that he could avoid.”

Jafarr’s eyes sadly glazed over for a minute but he shook it off. “Yeah, well, I still think he could have avoided that last one.”

He put the map away and handed Orrlar his drawn rendition of the ISIC vents.

“I finished it.”

Orrlar grabbed a hold of Jafarr’s arm and looked up at the boy’s face. Jafarr’s eyes looked tired, red, his face wan.

“Take a rest, son,” Orrlar said.

Jafarr let out a weary laugh. “I’m ok.”

“I said take a rest,” Orrlar ordered sternly.

Seeing his look, Jafarr nodded and turned to go. Heading back to the vent door, he pushed it open and started to heave himself through the hole. Halfway up he stopped. Grinning slightly, Jafarr dropped silently back into the room. Carefully he picked the uppercity map out the pile of maps and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Just as carefully, Jafarr pulled himself back up thought the vent door and closed the panel.

“Now where is that map the boy showed us, Eergvin?” Orrlar asked.

The redhead turned around and rifled through the papers. After a few seconds of hopeless searching it hit him. Eergvin shook his head as he turned back toward Orrlar.

“I don’t think our friend went to bed, Orrlar. The map isn’t here,” Eergvin said, pointing to the pile.

Orrlar turned and searched through the pile himself. “That fool, kid. What is he doing?”

Eergvin shrugged. “I suppose testing a theory.”

Casting Eergvin a disappointed look, Orrlar said, “I didn’t mean that. Does he think he can forget his father by keeping busy?”

Eergvin did not try to answer. He bit his tongue and continued to go through the maps for another one that he could use.

“I bet all he thinks of in his spare time is how to get that P.M. that killed his father,” Orrlar continued.

“Actually,” Eergvin laughed. “He seems to have directed his attentions more to a certain Surface Patrol officer that caught him—twice.”

Orrlar looked up, puzzled. “A Surface Patrol officer?”

“Yea,” Eergvin said, nodding. “His best friend also joined the Surface Patrol, and that makes things a little strange for him.”

“I thought Alzdar Demmon was his best friend. That’s how his father talked,” Orrlar said with a huff, going back to the work he and Eergvin were doing.

Eergvin shrugged. “As far as I know, Alzdar is his best school friend. They get along better. But Jafarr says this kid, Dzhon, was friends since they were babies.” Eergvin then laughed. “It is funny what you can learn if you just let the guy talk.”

Putting the map down, Orrlar let out an obviously annoyed sigh. “Ok, what else do you think I’m missing?”

The redhead gave an apologetic but a more satisfied smile. “Jafarr is dying for a chance to prove himself to you.”

Orrlar rolled his eyes.

Ignoring the motion Eergvin said, “He also misses his mother like nothing else, which is why he is so attracted to Malay.”

“A disaster waiting to happen if you ask me,” Orrlar said picking up a map again.

“That may be.” Then taking another stab, also picking up a map, Eergvin said, “He is incredibly concerned about the Tarrn prophecies. He thinks we really should be searching for the last Tarrn, beat the P.M.s to them and keep them alive.”

“And fulfill the prophecy ourselves?” Orrlar put in skeptically with a side-glance.

Eergvin shrugged. “I guess, though Jafarr doesn’t talk like it is all that. He thinks we might have to be the ones to train the Tarrn to fight. He’s actually quite well versed in the prophecies, Orrlar.”

“Yes.” Orrlar sighed. “Jamenth said his mother made sure he knew it all. He said she insisted at it, like she thought he’d be the one leading the rebellion.” Orrlar shook his head. “It is surprising the P.M.s didn’t just kill Jafarr with the way she tried to raise him. I’d think it was obvious that she expected him to be the Leader of Many. That’s enough reason for P.M.s to kill.”

With a nod, Eergvin peered back at his map. He