They skirted the shadows, as their kind always had. The moon was full, casting pale light over the pine needle-covered ground, hiding them in dappling shadows, the two smaller figures guided by the taller. Wind rustled the branches of the pines, carrying in it the sounds of distant skirmishes and the rushing of the great river.

One kik stumbled, but was righted by Miriks's quick hand.

"Well, yes?" The clicking words were less than a whisper.

The small head nodded, four eyes not meeting the taller's. Without another word, she took their three-fingered hands in hers, and they moved on, broken pavement beginning to show itself under their feet. They had almost arrived.

Miriks heard the humming of engines.

Her head snapped up, searching for the sound. They were approaching. She pulled the kiks into the underbrush along the ruined road. They knew better than to question her, now that the smallest was gone. Miriks drew in a breath, resisting the urge to release their hands and draw her weapons. The arc glow would reveal them better than any movement, and Tamax and Liriks needed the comfort.

A trio of human craft whizzed by, bright flames from their exhaust vents illuminating the area around them, but they were going too quickly to see -or consider- the three Eliksni. They rounded the corner of the broken road. The kiks looked to her, eyes wide. Miriks let out the breath, and they relaxed slightly.

They rose again, and continued. Reaching a slope, she stopped, letting go of the kiks. She made the gesture for stay, and they nodded. Miriks slid down the steep slope in one smooth movement, her cloak dragging in the mud, the faded house sigil becoming yet more stained. She reached the bottom and drew the shock rifle, looking every way for any movement. Seeing none, she lowered the arcarm and took out the node. She examined the small device, confirming this was the correct place. It was, and Miriks slid it back into her pocket, gesturing up at the waiting kiks. Tamax came first, Liriks second, both scrambling down the slope with little grace, but with the desperate speed and silence of those who knew fear.

Together once again, the trio moved forward along the small streambed towards a broken grate in the side of the hill. They neared the darkness slowly. Knowing the kiks eyes were on her, Miriks nodded. They drew their shock daggers, blue traceries of light flickering along the edges. Misraaks had said this place would be empty. In most other things, she believed him, against her better judgement. But she would not trust the lives of her kiks on words alone. Misraaks knew that. That was why he had given her the weapons.

Miriks went first.

There was no light in these ancient human sewers beyond that of their weapons and their eyes.

"Tamax. Light, no?"

"Yes." His voice contained all the wavers of fear, but he had tried to hide it. Tamax flicked on a small, human-made light director, illuminating the dank stones of the tunnel. It would do.

"Good kiko."

He closed two of his eyes in wary happiness, but quickly opened them again. It would not do to be without vision in a place like this.

"Some comes!" Came a cry in Eliksni, and Miriks winced as the kiks squeaked in fear. So Misraaks had been mistaken.

The scrabbling of claws on stones, of metal on cloth, and she knew that she would have to act fast. "We desire peace and safe haven! No harm is brought!"

A very surprised silence met her words.

Then two voices, both confused. "A female?"

"Why is a female in the drains?"

"Get the Captain. I will approach her."

More scurrying, then a silence filled with thinking.

Miriks slung her rifle back slowly, and at her gaze the kiks sheathed their blades with wide eyes. But her hand was near the hidden pistol.

"What will they do, mother?" Liriks whispered, not even trying to hide her fear. Three of her small hands gripped Miriks's cloak.

She knelt and held the small Eliksni close, ignoring the old pain of docking and the newer pain of regrowth. "They will not hurt us if we are calm, yes? Then be at peace." Miriks hated the uncertainty in her own words. These were of Dusk, and she did not know of them.

"What house?" Came the question from down the darkened hall.

Miriks looked up in exasperation with all four eyes. Males. Always political to the end. "No house, dreg. Travelers."

"I am almost a Vandal." He sounded miffed. "No house?" At this point, the speaker was overcome with curiosity. He stepped around the corner that Miriks had not seen, a lanky specimen with a openly brandished shock rifle, held almost uncertainly. He was, indeed, almost a Vandal, his second pair of arms almost fully regrown. Miriks gently lowered the light director in her son's hand, and upon seeing the three, the Vandal froze. "Kiks...?"

"You have seen them before, yes?" Miriks couldn't keep the sarcasm from her tone, rising. "Lower your rifle, friend, they will not harm you."

He seemed confused, then gave a chittering laugh. His rifle's tip fell. "It is not them I fear, it is the fine weapon on your back. But if it is friend, then I will suspend fear. You will give name, yes?"

"You will give peace? And promise of no harm?"

He hesitated. "I…Eia. The Captain would not harm kiks, or a female."

She nodded, taking the kik's hands again. "I am Miriks." She guided them forward, and the other Eliksni made way for them.

"And these?"

"Will give you their names when they trust you," she appended, and Tamax nodded in agreement. Liriks just clung to her mother's cloak and tried to keep up.

"If of no house, then what is that? A house symbol, no?" He was regarding her cloak, walking slightly behind.

"My mother was of the House of Stone. It is hers."

The Vandal's eyes widened appreciatively, walking beside her. "A noble house."

"A fallen house," she returned softly.

He paused, seeming abashed. "Eia. I am sorry."

She did not reply, only continued down the passageway.

"I am Darxhis," he offered.

"Pleasure to meet. You are more a friend than many Dusk, no?" She offered the question to the kiks, and Liriks nodded shyly. Tamax did not reply, he was being stubborn to show nothing to these new males.

Darxhis seemed pleased at the kika's favor. The clatter of claws on stone came rushing back, more this time, heavier. A trio of Eliksni came into view, a glowrod illuminating them nicely. They rose from the rapid position, and Miriks's eyes were drawn to the central figure, garbed in gray armor with the purple highlights of Dusk. The Captain's head almost brushed the ceiling, over 15 rods tall, and all four arms were perfectly formed. They also bore weapons.

Miriks stopped before him, and bowed her head, tilting slightly forward, directing her kiks to do the same. Liriks was graceful, but Tamax was stiff. Miriks would have growled at her son if she had room to, but she needed to let the Captain speak first.

"Captain, I show you Miriks of no house and her kiks." Darxhis was... presentational.

"No house…" The Captain growled, and Miriks feared his anger before realizing that his voice was merely deep. He examined her. "It has been… many rotations since I have seen a female so favorable as this. Rise. You are honored here, life-giver." Surprised but not showing it, Miriks rose. "I am Naksar, Captain of Dusk." The tall figure regarded the kiks. "I wonder why you bring small ones to such a dangerous place. Humans and Cabal fight strongly here, and neither will show mercy to Eliksni."

The answer came easily; it was truth. "Remaining was yet more dangerous."

The Captain considered. He nodded, then turned to stride away. "Come."

She took her kiks hands and moved behind him, showing no hesitation. She must show as if in gratitude, not as though they were obstacles. Darxhis followed as a rearguard, silent enough to be forgotten.

They traversed the winding passages, some areas lit and others not, a twisting maze of shadow and light. Soon the area opened up before them, the ruins falling into a massive sinkhole of a cavern. Eliksni inhabited it, small ramshackle shelters all moved together, crates and containers lining the base to make space for climbing. Most Eliksni were Dregs, and all were male. In their center floated a single Servitor, the spherical machine in the middle of the next round of ether condensation.

Miriks blinked. Misraaks had said… She almost closed her eyes in exasperation. This was anything but empty.

Darxhis, the not-quite-a-Vandal, moved beside her, somehow interpreting her silence as awe of some variety. "Welcome to the Drain."

Miriks sighed. This had become a whole lot more complicated.

...
author's note-Misraaks is the Eliksni spelling of Mithrax, which is a human misspelling.