Sure enough, the next junction deposited them in a sort of square, with buildings on every side that were at least marginally more impressive than those they'd been passing until now. At its centre was a cobbled area that Durren guessed would serve for weekly markets. There were more people around here, too—not exactly a crowd, but enough bodies milling back and forth that it would be easy to stay hidden among their number.
“There's something I need to do,” Tia said. She pointed towards the opening of a side street. “If he's following the same route as last time, Cullglass will come out there. Hopefully I'll be back before he arrives, but if not then just stay on him. I'll catch you up in a minute.”
“Wait, what are you—” But yet again Durren didn't have time to finish his sentence. Already Tia had disappeared into the open doorway of one of the nearby shops.
“Well, that's great,” he grumbled. Hadn't this all been her idea? Wasn't she the expert in this kind of thing? And even a week ago it would have been impossible to imagine her delegating something she considered so important to the rest of them. Durren remembered what she'd said as they left the academy: I was told I'd never level up until my teamwork improved. That was all well and good, but couldn't she have picked a better time to begin putting her trust in others?
Still, Durren told himself, probably she was right and their race through the back streets had given them a good lead on Cullglass, enough that she'd be back long before he emerged.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when the storesmaster appeared.
Durren was wholly unprepared. Had Cullglass happened to be looking his way, he would surely have been seen. Fortunately, the storesmaster's gaze was directed straight ahead, all his attention focused on manoeuvring through the busy square. Durren ducked closer to the nearest wall, where at least he was within the building's shadow, and watched as Cullglass set out diagonally towards the opening of another street.
As before, he was maintaining a rapid pace, and Durren wondered whether Hule and Arein had managed to keep up. What if it was all down to him now? Should he be giving chase? Durren took a few indecisive paces, though Cullglass was already out of view. Then, on impulse, he glanced towards the rooftops. There, the slightest flicker of motion caught his eye. Yes, he felt certain that he'd seen Pootle, scooting from one observation spot to another.
When Durren looked down again, Arein and Hule were hurrying towards him, Hule still hovering close to prevent Arein from blundering into anyone.
Durren was about to tell them both how glad he was to see them, when Tia reappeared beside his elbow. To Arein she said, “You still have him?”, taking charge as though she'd never been away.
“Absolutely,” Arein said. “He's just turning the next corner, we can see him clearly.” Then her face sank. “No, wait. I…I've lost him.”
“But, you just said—”
Arein looked frantic. “I know what I said! One moment he was there, and then…I don't know. Pootle just can't find him anywhere.” She rocked her head, as though expecting to see Cullglass standing before them—but it clearly wasn't her own eyes she was staring through. “I don't understand!”
“Look harder,” Tia insisted. “Probably he's just stopped somewhere. Maybe he's getting suspicious.”
“Wait,” Arein said, “just wait. There's…there's someone else. Only, I think—” Her brow furrowed with concentration. “It just might be him. I mean, they're too short, and older, and the cloak is different, but the way he walks…and that bundle he's carrying, I'm sure it's the one Cullglass had. Yes, I think it might be him.”
“Stick with them,” Tia advised. “He might have turned his cloak, and it's not hard to make yourself look shorter or older than you are. If that really is Cullglass and he's disguised himself, then we know for certain something's going on.”
Together the four of them hurried down the street that Cullglass had taken. Near its end, Arein pointed them towards a turn-off, and at the bottom of that road she led them to the right. The houses ahead, which were little more than shacks, gave way once more to forest. Even by Olgen's standards, this was a poor portion of town, some of the buildings already half tumbling down. Just as Tia had said, it was hard to see how anything in this direction could possibly interest the storesmaster; beyond the point where the track petered out, the woodland looked dense and uninviting.
Nevertheless, Arein was pointing towards a gap in the trees, so narrow that Durren would surely have missed it otherwise. “He's not far ahead,” she said, in what she'd probably meant to be a whisper; her connection with Pootle even seemed to be affecting her hearing.
“I think we should stay together from now on,” Tia proposed. “If we really are still following Cullglass, then probably he thinks he's safe for the time being.”
Durren resisted the urge to point out that they should probably have stayed together from the beginning, and that she was the one who'd insisted on running off on her own. He could hardly bring himself to feel annoyed with her now that it was becoming apparent that everything she'd told them had been true. Assuming the man they were following really was Cullglass, he was going to considerable trouble not to be discovered, while heading away from civilisation and deeper into the wilderness.
True to her word, this time Tia left the task of keeping the storesmaster in sight to Arein and Pootle. Anyway, there was only one possible route through the trees, and the difficulty was less of staying close to Cullglass, more of maintaining enough of a gap that they didn't accidentally blunder into him. Too, the path was badly overgrown, with cords of spineroot lying like tripwires and great mounds of stinging blackleaf to be avoided. The trail was so narrow and nearly erased, in fact, that it was hard to believe anyone but Cullglass—and perhaps the occasional passing deer or boar—had come this way in recent months.
Durren had lost track of how long they'd been walking for, or how often he'd been scratched and stung, when suddenly Arein gasped. “There's a building up ahead,” she whispered. “Oh! It's huge. But it's all in ruins. And there are stairs, going down into the ground. He's following them. Should I send Pootle after him?”
“Can you lead us there?” Tia asked.
“Yes. It's just ahead.”
“Then, no. Have Pootle wait and stay hidden. Unless there's another way out, Cullglass isn't going anywhere. We wanted to know where he went and now we do.”
Less than a minute later, the forest abruptly opened out, the path dipped, and before them Durren saw the decaying building Arein had spoken of. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Pootle dropped from the treetops into their midst and hovered before them, blinking sleepily. Arein patted the observer's head and murmured, “Yes, you did very well, didn't you? Who's a clever Pootle?”
The ruins were evidently ancient. Of course, the surrounding forest had taken its toll, as branches thrust at crumbling walls and creepers dragged at the brickwork. Still, something about the cut of the stones and the sheer extent of the damage told Durren that what he was looking at belonged to centuries long past.
Where he came from, such an edifice would soon have been dismantled and its materials put to new purpose. Here, though, deep in the forest, it seemed there was no one around to bother. That the building had been left to rot was all the stranger for its prodigious size. Even ignoring the portions now roofless or too fragile to risk entering, a dozen families could surely have made their homes here without once worrying about having to share space.
And that was only taking into account the portion on the surface. Durren could see the stairs Arein had spoken of, descending steeply into the earth. Once upon a time they'd been covered, but the walls to either side had largely collapsed and the roof was altogether gone. The opening at their base must have been partly buried at one point, and someone—surely not Cullglass?—had gone to a great deal of effort to clear a passage.
Restoring that entrance would have been a considerable job. What could the point have been? If anyone had needed space for som
e purpose, then surely there were ample empty rooms on the surface that would have sufficed just as well. The more Durren thought, the stranger that underground aperture seemed—and the more the questions it raised sent shivers up and down his spine.
“How long do we wait?” he asked. The air was cool beneath the trees, and the sweat from their hurried pursuit through the forest was starting to chill his skin.
Tia shrugged. “As long as we need to,” she said. There was a triumphant edge to her voice, as though she were a hunter who had trailed her prey back to its lair—which, Durren supposed, she was.
He settled down to wait. The knowledge that Cullglass, or whoever they'd followed here, might reappear at any moment—not to mention the fact that he might not be alone—was enough to keep them all silent. Still, that tension didn't make crouching in the bushes Tia had picked out any more interesting or comfortable. To occupy himself, Durren tried to guess at what the building might once have been.
But with so little evidence to go by, even that wasn't much of a diversion. The ruins reminded him somewhat of the monastery from which they'd stolen the Petrified Egg. The eccentricities of its design, as well as the smudges of weathered carving, made him wonder if this devastated structure hadn't once served a similar purpose. Perhaps priests had once prayed or meditated within those stubborn walls, maybe even to deities whose names were now long forgotten.
“Shush!” Arein whispered—though no one had said a word in what seemed an age. Her eyes had that glazed look again; Durren could tell she was seeing from Pootle's perspective. She had stationed the observer atop a ruined column, where it had a clear view down over the stairs, but was unlikely to be seen in return.
Durren tensed. Through the tangle of bushes before them, he could just make out the point where the steps entered the earth.
Finally, Cullglass reappeared. And this time, sure enough, it definitely was Cullglass. Tia had been right again, then; somehow he'd disguised himself in Olgen, so rapidly that Pootle hadn't had time to register the change. Durren noticed, too, that the burden he'd been carrying had vanished. Whatever it had been, presumably it was now consigned to the mysterious underground realm he'd just left.
What could the storesmaster possibly be up to? A part of Durren wanted desperately to stand up and confront Cullglass right then and there. Perhaps he could offer some reasonable explanation; maybe he was here on legitimate academy business, even some vital, secret mission for Borgnin himself. Really, who knew what sorts of things went on at Black River that four level one students wouldn't be privy to? The more Durren thought, the more he doubted that following Cullglass had been such a good idea.
But by then Cullglass was gone, vanished around the first bend of the trail. Durren realised that he'd been holding his breath for longer than he could remember, and exhaled in a great sigh. At least one part of their mission was over; they'd found out where the storesmaster slunk off to twice a week, and had apparently managed to do so without him realising.
“So what happens now?” Hule muttered. His tone left no doubt that he hoped the answer would be, We go home.
Yet it was just as clear from Tia's face that leaving was the last thing on her mind. “What else?” she said. “We take a look inside.”
16
A
t their base, the stairs led onto a brief corridor carved of large rectangular blocks, which in turn gave way to a low archway, around which Durren could just make out faint traces of symbols cut into the stone. Beyond the arch he could see nothing but deep darkness.
“Are we sure about this?” he asked, before he could stop himself.
Tia's only answer was a scowl.
“I'm just saying, what if he wasn't alone? For all we know, he was bringing food to a gang of murderers that are hiding out here. Or maybe he comes to train his giant carnivorous moths and they're just waiting down there for their next meal.”
“Then we'll deal with them,” Hule declared, and smacked a fist against the flat of his hand to illustrate. Now that he was committed to exploring the building's depths, he seemed quite taken with the idea.
“Anyway, carnivorous moths live entirely on moonflies, and they'd be far more scared of us than we'd be of them,” Arein pointed out.
“It was just an example,” Durren said huffily. He didn't like being the one to admit that he was scared, but nothing he told himself made the feeling go away. There were just too many unanswered questions here. Still, he could see that the other three, for whatever their reasons, weren't willing to listen—and he certainly wasn't going to stay out here on his own. “All I'm saying is, we have to be careful. We don't know what we're getting ourselves into.”
“Durren's right,” Tia said. “We still have no idea why Cullglass came here, so everyone stay alert.”
Durren couldn't tell if she was only saying it to make him feel better, but he was grateful anyway. Somehow he felt that so long as Tia was being cautious, the rest of them were likely to be a great deal safer.
“Also,” Durren said, “at the risk of pointing out the obvious, you do realise it's dark down here?”
“Lucky I came prepared, then.” Sitting at the base of the stairs, Tia began to rummage through her pack. She drew out a small oil lantern, which she set to lighting with a tinderbox. Once the lamp was burning, the light it gave off was limited but cheerful, staining the walls the precise colour of honey.
Now Durren could see that the passage before them ran on to a T-junction. The walls were plain, and offered few clues as to what this place might once have been. From what little he knew of such things, he felt that the craftsmanship was of good quality, and at the least it was fair to suppose that so much stone hadn't come cheaply. Whoever had built these tunnels long ago, they'd had money and sense enough to hire capable masons—or at least had the power to compel skilled slaves.
Without discussion, the four of them spread out into a column: first Tia with the lantern, then Hule close behind her, then Durren and finally Arein. Even had it not been obvious from the length of time Cullglass had spent down here, it was becoming apparent that at least as much of the ancient building lay below ground as above. Protected from the ravages of rain and wind, this lower level had fared better, but only a little. At the first intersection they passed, for example, two of the exits had been partially sealed when a section of ceiling had collapsed, decades or centuries ago. Great blocks were mixed with heaped dirt, and even the one way that remained clear required some clambering.
As he swiped loose earth from his trousers, Durren noticed another sound beneath the swish of palm on cloth. It was a low, steady scratching that set his nerves on edge. Worst was the comprehension that he'd been hearing it ever since they'd first come down here, without quite noticing until now.
The source of the sound lay ahead, he decided. It was coming from close to where Tia and Hule were—and seemed to be moving in step with them. Durren tensed. Was it rats? Insects, maybe? Or something worse? “Can anyone hear that?” he whispered, throat suddenly dry. “That…skritch, skritch sound?”
Ahead, Tia froze. “Now that you mention it.”
The sound stopped.
“Um,” Hule said.
Tia rounded on him. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Hule held up his hands—and Durren could see that one contained a sheet of paper, the other a wooden writing implement. On the paper, a crude series of interlocking lines and curves had been marked in an unsteady hand. “It's my item, all right? The label said 'map-making kit'. I thought it would be some magical device, but this is all I got.” Hule brightened. “Still, at least I finally get to use it.”
“Hule,” Tia said softly, “look down.” And she held the lantern low to the ground to assist him.
Durren saw what she was indicating even as Hule did: in the thick dirt and dust were a succession of clear scuffmarks. Tia hadn't been wandering at random; she had been following Cullglass's footprints.
“Oh,” Hule said. He lo
oked a little defeated as he slid pencil and paper back into a pocket.
Tia only shook her head and began walking once more.
Around the next bend was a straight section of corridor. If there were any exits leading off, then the lamplight failed to pick them out. The passage was surprisingly long, its far end lost in shadow. Either these shafts ran further than the ruins above or those ruins extended deeper into the forest than Durren had suspected. Whatever the case, he didn't altogether like the look of this tunnel; but Tia had already started towards the far end and there was no choice but to follow.
They were perhaps halfway along when Durren noticed a curious sensation. It was a queasiness, as though his stomach was sloshing; it made him strangely dizzy. But at first he couldn't understand where the impression was coming from.
Then he realised: the ground was shaking.
Durren felt the tremors through the soles of his feet, even before he saw the way the paving slabs before them were shifting like the surface of a wind-ruffled sea. But stone wasn't supposed to move like that—and it certainly wasn't supposed to dip the way this was doing.
“Back!” he yelled, and was already moving himself. Arein, close behind him, hardly seemed to be reacting, so he caught her around the waist and hauled her with him, ignoring her yelp of protest. A moment later and Hule dashed to join them—but Durren couldn't tell where Tia was.
He could hear now what he'd seen and felt: the sound of stone grinding against stone. That awful cacophony was coming from all around him—and from beneath. Durren took another quick stride, not having to drag Arein this time. Though the passage was still shaking, he felt that the vibrations were subsiding now, and that the surface beneath his feet was sound. He turned back, not certain what to expect.
The floor was gone. Where it ended, just before him, the last blocks tilted steeply downward, held in place by who knew what. After that was only profound darkness, and no way to tell what it concealed. Possibly there was another passage down there, but Durren could as easily believe that he was staring into a fathomless gulf. He thought about throwing something down as a test, but wasn't certain he'd feel any better for knowing.
The Black River Chronicles: Level One (Black River Academy Book 1) Page 19