The Forest of Black Lashes

Underland and the Forehidden Kingdom, Chapter 13

Underland and the Forehidden Kingdom is a serialised, young adult, fantasy novel about an overconfident bookworm who finds himself in a parallel world where words are weapons, ideologies form fortresses, and intelligence without integrity may just cost you everything. If you’re new here, you can start from the beginning or check out the index.

RECAP: The Millionth and Fifth are taken deep into Midnah-Dogu where they are made captives of the Moonlamp Captain, Aslan Koyun. When Aslan realises Keon is one of the Unlit—that he as yet has no allegiance to the Torchbearers—he tries persuading him to join the Moonlamps.

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“You’re sure?”

Shem was rapidly pacing. They’d been transferred to a more ‘traditional’ looking prison beneath the barracks, complete with cold walls, cobble stone floors and barred windows. Rectangular wooden stocks grated against their wrists. They could bend their arms but couldn’t straighten them, nor reach round for their satchels. Dawit, though less worn for the ware, was slumped against the wall next to Kai, who was sat next to Avana.

“Saw it with my own eyes, bro,” Kai replied.

“He took down four Mynds…before the blade fragmented,” huffed Dawit.

“How would he even know how to do that?” asked Avana.

“That’s what I wanted to know. Shem?” said Kai, eyeing him intently.

They all followed his gaze and Shem slowed to a stop. He could feel Avana’s glare before he even turned to meet it. He blew a gust of air at the ceiling, eyes closed.

“I lent him my Codex to copy some steps for foraging…”

Avana shook her head, “You idiot.”

“I was just tryna help him! I didn’t know he’d do that with it!”

“Which is why you’re an idiot!”

He pivoted and stomped toward Avana, pointing at her nose with his index finger.

“I swear, if you call me an idiot one more time…”

“What? You’ll eat dust like you did earlier!”

“Guys, guys!” said Dawit, “Shem, I know you’re vex brother…but this ain’t it…”

“Whoa, wait, hold on!” called Kai, coming between them, “What’s this about him eating dust? Did you clock him?”

“I didn’t eat dust…”

“He did.”

“It was paprika—actually. And it tasted fine...”

Dawit chuckled then doubled over in a spluttering fit of coughs.

“The hell happened t’you, mate? Him, I understand,” said Shem motioning to Kai.

“Thanks, man…”

Once the fit had subsided, Dawit leant back against the cold, stone walls, wiping his running nose with the back of his wrist.

“I’m not meant to lead…” Dawit sniffed. “I’m not like you.”

“Stop it, you’ll just make it worse,” said Avana, dabbing his forehead with her sleeve. “Wellworn wouldn’t have appointed you if he didn’t think you could do it.”

“Maybe he appointed me to prove I couldn’t?”

“No. Things got out of hand because you’re surrounded by idiots,” Avana snapped, her eyes darting from person to person like arrows. “Reckless idiots. Lazy idiots, and arrogant, witless, ignorant idiots.”

“Whoa, whoa, jeez!” said Kai, shielding himself with the shackles.

“Haven’t you noticed? The only ones who aren’t idiots weren’t captured.”

“What’s that say about you then?” said Kai.

“I was with an idiot. Doesn’t count.”

He shook with silent laughter.

Shem stepped forward, ignoring the jab.

“So, what. You’re saying Jonas and Zahara are still out there?”

She scoffed.

“Trust me, Jonas already has a plan.”

“You really don’t have a plan?” asked Zahara.

“I’m thinking,” signed Jonas.

They were crouched down in the branches of a forest overlooking the lavish palace. Even high up in the canopy of the trees, they didn’t have much of a vantage point. There was no way of knowing what they were dealing with other than that it was probably swarming with Moonlamps. Marble Mynds could be seen guarding the main gate and pacing the battlements, and from what they could ascertain, the first court led to a subsequent one. There was no telling where their friends were being held or how many gates they would have to pass through to get to them.

“The walls aren’t heavily guarded, but they’re too high to scale,” he signed.

Her brow furrowed.

“Why would they leave them lightly guarded?”

“Confidence. Who’s gonna attack them this deep in their own land? It’s more for show than anything else.”

“But you’re sure they’re here?”

“Moonlamps expel Torchbearers from their land. They don’t invite them further in,” he signed.

Zahara exhaled, shaking her head; wondering what malicious devices they had in store for her friends. For Keon.

“Can I ask you something?” she said. “Why didn’t we help them sooner?”

“Something wasn’t right,” he signed. “I needed to know what it was. There was no sense in all of us getting captured.”

She bit her bottom lip, turning again to look at the palace.

He’d known something was up from the get-go. At the first sight of blue smoke, he’d dragged her into an alley. They’d scuppered up the side of a building onto a balcony to wait it out. Sure enough, Moonlamps began hopping, silently, from rooftop-to-rooftop moments later. The Wall Guard had been watching the entire time. They’d probably spotted them the moment they set foot inside the Golden Gate.

Following at a distance, they eventually found their friends being escorted through the streets. Keon was fine, but Kai and Dawit didn’t look too good. They’d been stricken, which meant, sooner or later, they would have to contend with Mentals, Mynds and Moonlamps. The mission was growing more complicated by the minute.

She was jolted by Jonas’ tapping. He signalled towards the western side of the palace.

“Think we may have found a way in,” he signed, pointing to a river cutting through the palace grounds and out the other side.

“We’ll wait until nightfall. Then we make our move.”

Aslan was touring Keon through the luscious palace grounds that wove through the buildings as though intertwined in a dance. They would be walking beside white walls and marble pillars one minute and have huge trees and streams break through the middle of it all the next. It gave the oddest sense that, even when they were indoors, they were still outside.

In the midst of it all, Aslan was proving a problematic enigma. One minute, he was beating on his friends, the next he was extending the longest arm of hospitality ever seen. Strolling through a colonnade of tall, grey pillars, they passed a large, open hall where several young boys were being drilled by a man in long, white robes holding a short, tasselled whip behind his back. The boys were sat, cross-legged, in five rows of fifteen, codices open in their laps. Uniform. Unmoving.

At a yell from the instructor, the roar of flapping pages reverberated like waves crashing against the rocks. He would shout and they would turn, twist or flick their books open in unison. Those who were out of step were quickly met with a vicious lick from the tassels. They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Aslan smiled at the display, his eyes lowering in reminiscence.

“We train from childhood to defend the walls and walk the path of the Five Links,” he said, noting Keon’s interest. “Youth from all over Midnah-Dogu come daily to learn from the best teachers the palace has to offer.”

“What makes you think I care?”

Aslan chuckled.

“Do you always lie to yourself, bro? You’re clearly looking for something. Why else would you be with the Torchbearers?”

His thoughts strayed towards his dad, holed up somewhere in a Stronghold. He wondered if it was anything like this place and—if so—whether he’d even want to be rescued.

“I’m looking for a way home,” he said. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

“But clearly, Almuluk has summoned you.”

“Right. Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And how long have you been here?”

Aslan smiled at the ground.

“Since birth.”

Keon gaped.

“I thought no one was born in Underland?”

“I wasn’t, but a Masabih’s journey to Underland begins the moment he or she is awakened. For most of us, that’s the day we’re born; the Song of Entrance spoken into our ears at our first breath.”

Keon scoffed to himself.

“That’s nuts.”

“It’s why we’re strong. Unlike the Torchbearers, our brotherhood doesn’t end here. We live equally in both worlds.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

Aslan stopped.

“They’re divided. You’ll see for yourself. Whatever it is you’re looking for bro, they can’t help you.”

“And you guys can…”

Aslan nodded.

Keon huffed a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Why is everyone tryna get me to join their boy-band, man?”

“‘Cause we’re at war, bro. Even if you don’t see it, this war affects everything. Sooner or later, everyone has to pick a side.”

“You sound just like Wellworn,” he muttered.

“Who?”

Keon faltered. He hadn’t meant to let the name slip. It wasn’t just Kai’s warning; for some reason, it felt—wrong, like a secret he’d been entrusted with. But moreover, whether he was captain of the King’s armies or leader of some local militia, Aslan had no idea who Wellworn was, which was weird in and of itself. Wasn’t that, like, one of the first rules of warfare or something? To know your enemy? He had to choose his next words wisely.

“Just some guy I met when I got here,” he shrugged, continuing to walk.

“And what did he tell you?” asked Aslan through narrowed brows.

“That choices are powerful in Underland, and that people would try and make mine for me.”

“The choice is yours, bro. Nobody here will ever try and take it from you.”

Keon’s temple creased in contemplation.

“And my friends...what would happen to them?”

Aslan paused—in a way Keon didn’t like.

“We’d send them on their way.”

That was it. He had to get out of here, he just wasn’t sure how. He’d gotten a good enough look at the palace grounds to have some idea of where the barracks were located, and whilst this place seemed more like a lavish hotel than an army base, that didn’t change the fact that there were soldiers everywhere. Every inch of the grounds was covered with prying eyes, and even those who weren’t on guard duty seemed ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

He’d been shown to his own extravagant quarters, but they were locked from the outside and guarded. It was the first moment he’d had alone since being separated from the others and he needed to make the most of it.

He’d wait until dark. That would at least give him some cover. They hadn’t taken his Codex. Maybe they knew he was inexperienced? He bristled with embarrassment at the thought. In theory, he could write something out and try forge with it. A Torchbearer was limited only by their imagination, right? Not that he was one yet. Sort of.

The beginnings of a plan were starting to hatch in his mind. Red was the universal colour for ‘danger.’ He could set off a signal to distract the guards and slip out the window. If he forged a wide enough sheet, he could probably parachute down. Then, it would just be a matter of slipping through the shadows to reach the holding cells. How would he get the doors open though? He had a theory about that actually and couldn’t wait to try it out. All of this depended, of course, on whether he could successfully Forge at all. As much as he hated to admit it, Shem was right. He still had a lot to learn.

The sound of the door unbolting put an end to his scheming. The cedar door creaked open, and he glimpsed a young maid coming in with a tray of food. Another tray of food. He’d either turned down or chucked all the rest, but these guys were persistent. And boy, was he hungry! His Codex seemed to shudder in agreement.

Back turned, he listened to the sound of the tray being set on a table by the door then waited for the scrape of the lock being bolted back.

“So, are you considering it?”

Keon whipped round, looking for the source of the voice before settling on the young maid, standing in a shadowy corner by the door. The scale of the room made her practically microscopic. No wonder he hadn’t seen her; but once he did, he couldn’t un-see her. Those eyes. A piercing, shimmering grey framed by a forest of black lashes.

She wore a long, white shift with long bell sleeves over loose trousers. Like the other maids, her head was veiled, but what distinguished her from the rest was the armour she wore beneath the hood.

“I’m sorry?” he said.

“His ‘glorious’ offer?” she said, arms folded across her chest, swaying playfully from side to side.

He looked around again, unsure whether she was real.

“Who are you exactly?”

“Asya,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Keon shrugged and shook his head.

“Aslan’s my brother.”

Of course. The eyes.

She must have noticed him tense up because she said—

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know I’m here.”

She walked over to the table, sat down with one leg crossed over the other and picked a sugared date off the tray. He looked around again, making doubly sure no one else was about to sneak out of the shadows.

“What do you want?”

“To see if it’s true.”

“What?”

“The Myth of the Perfect Mirror,” she said, popping the date in her mouth. “Not the half-truth Aslan told you. The one Torchbearers tell.”

Keon’s face contorted with incomprehension.

“I-I-I don’t even know it.”

She rubbed her knees as she rocked back and forth.

“Well, you’re not a Torchbearer yet are you? Isn’t that right?”

He looked around frantically.

“What, were you eavesdropping or something? How do you know that?”

“Underland does this weird thing with twins,” she said, rolling her eyes and twirling her fingers around her head like she was loopy. “Sometimes I catch snatches of conversation. Things Aslan says or hears. The way he feels. It all shows up in my Kodeks.” She tapped a satchel attached to her side.

Keon’s eyes narrowed.

“Doesn’t that work both ways then? Won’t he know you’re here?”

“He would if he wasn’t so distracted.”

She leaned forward and clapped her hands together, resting her elbows on her knees.

“I need to know if it’s true, what they say about the Perfect Mirror. Help me find out, and I’ll help you and your friends escape.”

“You what?”

“You know, get away,” she said, mimicking a plane taking off.

“I know what ‘escape’ means! Why would you do that?”

She suddenly grew very serious, rubbing her palms together.

“My people believe they can control their Mirrors. I’m beginning to think it’s the other way round,” she said, pausing to look away and bite her lip. “I see it in Aslan—when he gets angry—it’s like the line between him and his Mirror gets blurred.”

Keon thought back to the sight of Aslan’s Mirror; desperate to move but confined to one spot. He noticed Asya wringing her fingers and caught a fleeting hint of bruised wrists.

“I’ve tried to warn him. He tells me I sound like a traitor. And our dad—he would die for me, but—he has no qualms letting his Mirror loose on Aslan.”

“That…that’s horrible…”

For the first time, he felt guilty for hating his guts.

“That’s not control,” she continued, “It doesn’t make us any different from the Mirrors. And if that’s the truth of the Five Links, I don’t want any part in it.”

“Don’t you have one too though? A Mirror?”

She tugged on the collar of her armour, revealing her chain-less collarbone.

“I let mine go a long time ago.”

“You can do that?”

She sniffed a smile.

“You should’ve seen how fast it ran.”

“It’ll be back,” said Keon, pacing. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

She leaned forward, intrigued.

“Tell me more…”

He had to look around the room, away from her eyes.

“They…they say that as long as you’re free, it can’t be. So, it’ll keep coming back until you control it, or it controls you.”

“Mirror Mastery…” she whispered to herself.

“What’s that?”

She clapped her hands again, this time leaning back.

“The power of the one they call the ‘Coming King.’ No Chains. No tricks. Just perfect control of one’s Mirror. Some say he even had the power to forge without a Kodeks.”

“Is that possible?”

She shrugged a single shoulder.

“Enough people believed it to try and seize his power. So he vanished. Some say he was killed. Others say he roams Underland to this day, teaching those who seek him how to control their Mirrors. One day, they say he’ll return and reveal himself to the world.”

Keon’s jaw dropped unconsciously. Is that why they were taking him to the Eastern Monument? To learn ‘Mirror Mastery’ from this ‘Coming King’?

“Do you think it’s true?” he said.

“I don’t know if it is, but…if it was and there was a chance it could save your family, wouldn’t you wanna know? Wouldn’t you try and find out?”

Keon held her stare this time, dead in the eyes.

“Yeah. I would.”

He extended his hand, “I’m Keon.”

She smiled and took it.

“Nice to meet you, Keon.”

Asya closed the door carefully behind her. She would come back later that night. Apparently, he had some sort of plan to distract the guards. They would rescue his friends, then she would find them safe passage through the palace grounds and out of Midnah-Dogu. Latching back the bolt, she turned—and almost collided with Aslan.

I know you really wanna find out what happens next, but before you hit that New Chapter button, do like this chapter, share it, and drop a comment below because I would love to hear from you!