Making their way down crudely carved steps, Bren ushered Archer into the cellar quickly before he closed it carefully behind them. It was dark, without windows or any form of lamplight. Archer instantly raised his hand and produced a glow, thick shadows slithering across the floor as they entered what looked like any other common cellar. 

The walls were made of large stones all cobbled together with thick mortar. There were shelves of preserved foods, racks of wine, and barrels stacked neatly in a corner. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, looking untouched and abandoned…apart from the various footprints left in the dirt floor. 

Though Archer looked confused and skeptical as he shone his light over the display of aged food and rations, Bren was determined. He strode over to the stack of barrels, beckoning Archer over as he slipped through the narrow gap behind them. 

“What the…” Archer’s low voice echoed, cut off by his own surprise as he followed Bren. 

Bren smirked at him, pressing against the stone wall until it shifted and scraped open; a hidden entrance. He slipped past the barrels and through the door, making sure Archer was next to him before he sealed it. 

Letting out a soft sigh, Bren felt his muscles begin to relax, already feeling safer. They stood in a tunnel, carved out of the packed earth and stone. It had been rounded out, sloping downward toward an exit that had a soft purple hue of light. Archer dropped his hand, no longer in need of his magic as the glow from down the tunnel was enough to guide them. 

Walking forward, Bren stepped over the thick cracks of earth and stone, careful not to trip over the dead roots of what were now fossilized trees. It felt like they were entering another world, but really…it was a city beneath the city. A world where Bren didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t. 

It was a dangerous allure, but even now…Bren could feel the pull of magic begging him closer.  

Every time their footsteps echoed in the cavern, Bren felt a jolt of fear. They needed to remain unnoticed, not wanting anyone to recognize him from the day before. Though he’d managed to pocket the coin he’d stolen without initial incident, it was odd to return to the black market so quickly; something Bren was keenly aware of as they reached the end of the underpass, just before another stairway. 

Bren heard Archer inhale sharply, his hand on the carved, stone wall as they stopped abruptly and surveyed the massive, scintillating cavern. Crystalized stalactites hung threateningly above them, jutting out in various lengths along the ceiling; even the rocks surrounding them sparkled as they caught the cool hues of light. The cave expanded outward into other dark chambers and cavities that lead to other unknown passageways beneath the city, but Bren’s attention was brought downward toward the source of light… The black market.  

The world beneath Vitalos spiraled down into the earth. There were smaller caverns carved along a singular, winding staircase shaped from the cave itself, everything engulfed with the blue and purple light of glass lanterns. At each small room and grotto people offered their wares or illicit services, Bren’s eyes immediately drawn to where there were ledges that sparkled with rare and magical artifacts. Though some objects were simply ancient with a heavy price tag or historical value—many being forgeries—others were imbued with magic… Like the vessels. 

Archer’s voice was full of awe as he asked, “How did you even find this place?”

Bren’s heart throbbed, his shoulders slumping as memories flashed through his mind. “Someone showed it to me a few years ago… When Mother and Father started to have difficulties sourcing them.” He cleared his throat, sucking in a deep breath of air to steady himself and fill his lungs. “Pretty hard to find if you don’t know it’s here. If the prosecutors ever stumbled across this place…it’d be a gold mine.”

“No kidding. Surprised no one’s given up the information yet.”

“Well, it’s been a while since any Umbris have actually been caught. I’m sure it would be good leverage for them if they were.”

Grunting in agreement, Archer’s hand clamped tightly on Bren’s shoulder, pulling him closer to him as he asked in a hush, “So, what is the plan exactly? How much do these things cost?”

Bren turned to raise a brow at his brother as he said, “They’re free if you know what you’re doing.”

Face full of horror, Archer nudged Bren warily, clearly vexed as he whispered harshly, “That is a very stupid plan. Just because you weren’t caught last time doesn’t mean you won’t be this time. And right now, you don’t have a vessel and I don’t know how much help I’ll be if you get into trouble.” Archer’s expression was pleading, his eyes boring into Bren as he practically begged. 

Shrugging him off, Bren glanced down into the market at the other patrons, all dressed in dark clothes with face coverings or large hoods. No one wanted to be discovered here, and for good reason. 

His attention was back on Archer as he said, “Look, they keep the rarer vessels in the back. There’s no way I can sneak back there without being seen. So, what we do is wait for someone else to buy a vessel, and then take it off them—”

“There’s no time!” Archer was seething, looking around the empty passage as his voice echoed, ensuring no one was around them to overhear. Lowering his voice, Archer scoffed as he muttered, “For once in your life Bren, can’t we just do things the right way?”

The words stung, Bren flinching as he felt a pang in his chest. He pressed his hand against the inner pocket of his coat, feeling the journal there. He thought about fighting Archer on the point—telling him that he’d done this a hundred times over—but Bren reluctantly saw reason in his brother's words. He’d already asked so much of Archer, but if things went wrong, he wasn’t sure he could afford relying solely on him again. 

“You’re right,” Bren muttered, swallowing down his pride as he agreed, “There isn’t enough time, and the chances of someone coming to purchase something that powerful and expensive is unlikely. Not to mention we won’t be able to get away with a vessel as mundane as that coin…” Not if they were really going to open a dimensional rift and summon a demon. 

Bren glanced over the amount of gold and finery the two of them wore, looking for anything of rare value. His eyes landed on his diamond cufflinks, watching them catch the colored lantern light, dazzling into rainbow sparkles even in the dim. He unclasped them from his coat, holding them out in his palm when he saw the state of his hands. It knocked the breath out of him to look down at his long, ghastly fingers. 

“You’ll have to do it,” Bren muttered, handing over the jewelry and dropping it into Archer’s willing palm.  

Archer blinked down at the diamonds, eyes snapping back to Bren as he asked, “What, can’t you? I don’t know what to say!”

“I’ll do the talking. I’ll nod at you when it’s time to hand those over. I just don’t want to risk people seeing…these.” Bren held out his hands, shuddering as they looked even more grisly moving in the shadows. 

It was obvious Archer was trying not to recoil or give Bren a face of disgust. Instead, he swallowed hard and uttered, “I don’t get it. We’re buying a vessel, won’t they know you’re an…” he glanced around for a second time, barely whispering the word as if saying it aloud might curse him, “Umbra?”

Bren tried not to let the hurt get to him as he muttered back, “Not necessarily. They might suspect it, but Manos acquire vessels, too.”

Archer seemed surprised as he closed his fist around the diamonds, pocketing them carefully as he asked, “Whatever for? We don’t need them.” 

Another ignorant blow.  

Feeling his frustration rise, Bren had to stop himself from seething, “Maybe you don’t, but some people do.”

“How do you figure that?”

“It’s a pure form of magic. Some Manos crave more power, whether they need it…or desire it. Manos are the ones that make vessels after all.” He could tell his words startled Archer and it only served as a reminder to Bren how much his brother had been sheltered from his dark world… How much his parents had wanted to protect their eldest, golden child from the knowledge of corruption and dark magic. 

Bren tried not to let his anger show as he whispered, “How the hell did you think vessels are made? They’re ordinary, sometimes rare, objects that are imbued with the healing magic of a Manos. Like when you healed me or when…” Bren cleared his throat, trying not to get emotional as he thought of his parents, “When Mother did. That’s what allows the Umbris to use their magic and stave off the corruption. That’s why vessels are so essential for us.”  

“But…why would a Manos do that?” Archer uttered in incredulity. 

Bren felt agitated at the sudden interrogation, glancing toward the market as if it pulled at him, wanting him to hurry up and come to claim his prize. “I don’t know!” Bren snapped back, irritated and on edge. “For money? To help? If we find a Manos who makes one, you can ask, but not here. You said it yourself, we’re running out of time.” Bren turned away from his brother, heading down the coiling stairs as he murmured over his shoulder, “Stay close. No more talking. Let’s just do this as quickly as we can and then get out of here.” 

Archer was right. 

With so much already against them, Bren couldn’t risk them getting caught… 

Not this time.