by Aaron Bunce
“Jez, is your brother safe?”
The girl coughed, and shrugged her shoulders, a pair of glassine tears breaking loose from her dark eyes. “Mother was good to us, but she had fits…would fall to the ground and shake, and sometimes lose control of her body completely. She would look and act strange afterwards, talk and act as someone else. She would always come back to us after a while though, but it got worse, right before she left.”
It all clicked together in Thorben’s mind…the dark, hollow look in Iona’s eyes, his protective behavior of Jez. He’d likely gone to the River Guild and asked for their help in locating his runaway wife and child. With his wealth stolen, he would have had only promises to offer as payment.
I wish he would have just told me. I could have…would have helped him, Thorben thought, dropping a reassuring hand on Jez’s shoulder.
“One thing at a time. First…let’s find a way out of here, and then we will locate your father. Maybe we can…” he said, but faltered. He couldn’t stomach the thought of making false promises. Not now.
“How?” Jez asked, lifting a hand toward the statue. “Ivy that bleeds, statues of monsters, a sea of dead dwarves, and a doorway just turned into a wall…and the statue? I don’t understand what happened.”
“This place isn’t like any other tomb, that much is clear,” Thorben said, admitting it for the first time out loud. A chill crept up his back as he said it, but shook it off. “The best thing we can do is move forward, and just maybe, our path will become clear.”
Jez accepted his hand and stood. She wiped her face, tucked her dark hair behind her ears, and rolled up the sleeves of her heavy shirt. Thorben nodded, and she responded with a crooked, but guarded smile.
It’s better than a snarky comment, he thought.
They turned, facing the wide chamber together. Thorben moved to step forward, a subtle light amidst the columns catching his eye. He hiccupped mid-step and almost fell. Jez cast him a sidelong glance, her raised eyebrow framing the simple question.
“Did you trip?”
Thorben shook his head, searching her face.
She can’t see it. But why?
He turned back to the sarcophagus straight ahead, and the ghostly, pulsing light hovering above it.
Chapter Sixteen
Face to Face
“It is a sarcophagus…or a burial casket…” Thorben said, unable to tear his eyes away from the glowing light – it was strangely man shaped, he could tell that much, even from a distance. Not a flicker of light or a blur of motion, but an eerie, glowing, figure. Plain as day.
Flail me if I’m seeing things, Mani! Is it real, or are my eyes playing tricks on me? Mani, tell me I’m not going mad! Mani tell me I’m not seeing the dead! He’d tried to scare Gor and the others with tales of spirits, but now…
“Not just any burial! Perhaps it is as my father said. This is the dalan burial – the one folks have whispered about since before the first delvers. Let’s get closer and see what treasures it holds, then we can give Gor what he wants and be away from here!” Jez breathed next to him, interrupting his dark thoughts. The girl pulled on his arm, but Thorben refused to move.
Thorben pulled his eyes away from the glowing figure, the stone sarcophagus, and the dark columns surrounding it just long enough to look at the girl. His fear faltered for a moment and he marveled at how much she looked and sounded like her father. How had he not seen it before?
“Yes…I know, but don’t you see the…?” he asked, the fear returning as soon as he pointed towards the glowing specter.
“See the what? Is it the…the lights again? Do you see them? Tell me, because I don’t see anything,” Jez said, and stopped pulling on his arm. The girl shrunk back, but didn’t hide behind him.
Thorben shifted his feet to back away, but paused. There was no archway anymore, just a wall of solid stone. The only way was forward.
“Look carefully…on top of the casket. What do you see?” he asked, pointing straight ahead, desperate to hear that someone besides him could see it.
“I see a stone box…what probably holds some ancient, withered dead person, and hopefully the shiny trinkets these men want so they leave us alone!” she said, leaning forward and studying the chamber. “But that is all. Now tell me what you see, please. And don’t just tell me stories to scare me…I’m young, yes, but I’m not some stupid girl.”
Damn…damn! He’d desperately hoped that she could see it, too. He shook his head, his gaze flitting from her brown eyes to the distant burial.
“Let us get a bit closer, then maybe I will see it, too,” Jez said when he couldn’t respond and pulled him forward.
Thorben moved his feet reluctantly, boots catching and snagging on the vines under the leaves. He looked down, freed his boot from the tangle, and lifted his head back up, not fully suppressing his surprise. The strange, glowing figure was gone. He reached up and rubbed his eyes and looked again.
“No…it can’t be. I don’t understand,” he gasped, ripping his hand away from Jez and turning in a frantic circle, searching the dim chamber for the glowing figure. It could be anywhere, appear anywhere at any moment.
“What is it? You’re scaring me!” Jez cried, stepping away from him.
Thorben thought for a moment, but decided that honesty was the best course, and that it might help alleviate his own fear if someone else knew. He was tired of suffering in silence.
“Back in the entrance chamber, by the doors, I started to see lights…like fireflies, in the darkness. And then, just a few moments ago I saw a glowing…person atop that burial straight ahead. Not just a blur of light, but an honest to goddess glowing person, and it all started when I found this,” he said, and pulled his hand free of his pocket.
Jez’s eyes locked on the ring, the sparkling emerald glowing gently.
“Whoa! Where did you find that?” she asked, pulling his hand closer for a better look. The gem in the ring pulsed, the green light bathing Jez’s face.
“Be careful,” he said. The girl nearly pulled him over, her tug far stronger than he expected from someone so slight of frame.
“I found it in the dead dweorg, the one sitting in the chair at the mouth of the tunnel. I took it for my…” Thorben said, but faltered, struggling with how much he should tell her. “At first I took it, thinking of my family. You see, it is small and easily hidden. I could probably find someone to buy it on my own, for far less than your father, mind you, but what little coin I could get might feed my family this winter.”
“I don’t blame you for that, especially after what happened back in the entrance chamber. You saved father’s life, and Gor…he had no right to swindle you like that. You’re the only reason we got in here, and to take away your share…” Jez said, shaking her head. And yet, her gaze did not leave the ring.
Thorben nodded, but interjected, desperate to unburden himself of the rest of the strange story. “It was in my pocket when we came to the tomb doors. I felt something stabbing, biting my leg, and thought it a crawler bug at first. That’s when I started seeing the lights.”
“You were acting–” Jez breathed.
“Crazy, I imagine,” Thorben chuckled, uncomfortably. “I put my hand into my pocket, when I pushed on the door. The ring…”
“What…” she asked, but stopped mid-word, her eyes dropping back down to his hand.
“It slid onto my finger…of its own accord, and now I cannot get it off.”
Jez’s mouth scrunched up, cheeks, eyebrows, and forehead following suit. She held her hand out, and reluctantly, Thorben offered his. The girl turned his hand this way and that, her own looking child-like in comparison. She gave the ring an exploratory tug, then a little harder, before trying to turn and twist it free. “You’re right. It is not for coming off!”
Thorben nodded, pulling his hand back in and giving the ring a small pull.
“In? You said you found it in the dead dwarf?”
He nodded again. Goddess, he
hadn’t even blown or wiped it off before sticking it into his pocket. The idea made his skin crawl.
“He was just a skeleton, so I just had to reach in and pick it up.”
“But why was it in a dead dwarf?” Jez asked, and reached down to wipe her hands on her pants.
He lifted his hand up and inspected the ring, the metal pulsing gently against his skin in response. “I guess I never actually thought about that,” he said, and proceeded to give the ring another tug.
“You’re wearing a ring that glows, that you found inside the hollowed out body of a dead dwarf, and now you’re seeing strange things…lights, ghosts,” Jez said, and took a half step back.
Thorben nodded, suddenly very aware of how bizarre it all sounded. He silently cursed the decision to follow Iona, but also the impulse to pick the damned ring up and stick it in his pocket.
“It sounds like magic to me, and something Gor would very much like to have. It is the kind of relic that might convince him to let us go, to let my father go and forgive his debt,” she said, looking up from his hand to meet his gaze, “and you can’t get it off.”
Thorben nodded solemnly, watching the girl carefully. He grasped her meaning, even if she didn’t intend it as a threat. Thorben understood the stigma of magic well enough, too, almost as well as he understood loyalties. They were both often dark in nature, and prone to shift when convenient. The ring could carry a curse, its magic killing him at that very moment, but if Jez decided to leverage her knowledge of the ring against him, Gor and Hun would likely kill him first.
I should have picked it up and put it in a bag, tied it up, and stowed it someplace safe right away, he thought. No, I never should have picked it up at all!
“Please…don’t tell the others. At least not right away. Give me some time to figure out how to get it off,” he said, and quietly stuffed the hand back into his pocket. Jez’s gaze followed his hand, and then slowly lifted back up to his eyes. Finally, after an oppressively long moment, she nodded. He knew that she was weighing her options – whether the magical ring could buy her and her father’s safety, or whether she should betray him, if and when that moment came. He didn’t entirely blame her.
I have to convince her that is not in her best interest, he thought. For if Gor discovered the truth, the big man wouldn’t be denied simply because it was stuck in place. He would carve Thorben like a ham – cut off his finger, his hand, or his whole damn arm, if that’s what it took.
Thorben swallowed and started forward, the lump returning to his throat. He watched Jez, quietly, and hoped that he could trust the girl. She seemed a nice sort, but Thorben had seen enough of people to know they acted out of need. They weren’t blood, and if it came down to him or her father, he knew which way she would lean.
Death and dust.
They moved slowly through the leaves, the mist and shifting light playing tricks on his eyes. One of the columns creaked and groaned as they approached, and then another.
Are they…moving? he wondered, the movement catching his eye. His thoughts instantly shifted away from Jez and the ring on his finger as a branch appeared out of the mist overhead, swaying gently as if in a breeze. He spotted another branch, and then another, an entire twisted and gnarly canopy materializing out of the gloom.
They are trees? How is that possible?
“Wait…are those…trees?” Jez asked, as if reading his thoughts.
“They don’t look like any tree I have ever seen,” Thorben replied, moving carefully under and around the lowest, swaying branch.
He moved closer to the eerie trees but froze, the air changing around him. It was cold and painfully damp, as if he’d stepped into a gust blowing off a wintry lake. He looked to Jez, pulling his gaze away from the strange trees, and the casket, visible just beyond. The girl returned his look, her entire body shaking visibly.
Turning back to the casket, Thorben shivered, rubbed his arms, and resumed. The light from the strange lanterns trickled down out of the trees, but their branches left long, shifting shadows. The constantly moving shade and curling, drifting fog played tricks on his eyes. The ground appeared to move, drifting back and forth, undulating like ocean waves.
Thorben had to look away as his stomach turned uncomfortably. His gaze caught on the burial. He saw no sign of the strange, glowing figure, but immediately started to doubt. Had it been a trick of the light and fog?
Mani, watch over me, he silently prayed.
Thorben passed between two of the trees. Their bark was red and glistened in the low light, rivulets of thick sap running down and dripping off long, pale thorns. He exhaled into cupped hands, rubbing them together to fight the chill. The ring pulsed against his skin, the metal a small bit of warmth. He gave it an exploratory tug, confirmed it was still stuck firmly in place, and turned sideways to give the barbs a wider berth.
“Death and dust…” he muttered, “what kind of tree grows underground?” There was no sun, no rain…nothing to feed such plants. It felt wholly unnatural. Thorben eyed the clearing ahead, planting his foot with every step, prepared to kick off and run at the first sign of danger.
The sarcophagus sat another dozen paces ahead, the mist growing thicker around the stone box. The air became heavier – the cold settling on his skin like a sodden and icy blanket. He grabbed the tattered remnants of his jacket and pulled them tighter around his body, his boot snagging on something in the mist. Thorben stumbled forward, corrected, and found sure footing once again.
“What is it? What did you find?” Jez asked, ducking down next to him, her teeth chattering together.
Thorben carefully swept the leaves away, moving carefully as to not disturb what lay underneath. He didn’t find a trip line as expected, but a ropey vine jutting up and out of the ground.
“It’s a vine of some sort,” he grunted, struggling to pry his foot away from the strange growth, but the greasy vegetation had snarled and tangled up almost all the way around his ankle. “I just caught my foot…how did…it get so twisted…about?” he grunted, breaking the plant and finally pulling free. Thorben lifted it into the light. It wasn’t a vine at all, but a root of some kind. The twisted, fibrous shoot pulled tight and seemed to squirm in his hand.
Releasing his grip, Thorben jumped back to his feet, the root disappearing into the fog. He swore he felt it move in his hand.
“It’s just a plant, right? It’s not a snake or something?” he asked. But the girl shrugged, teeth still chattering together. It was dark, foggy, and they were both hungry and cold. Nothing seemed certain any more.
Thorben kicked at the leaves, unwilling to get any closer than absolutely necessary. He followed the bulbous roots to the casket, where they disappeared back into the thick leaves.
A sea of dead dweorg, a glowing stomach ring, bleeding trees, and now moving roots…death and dust, what kind of place have I led us to?
The stone burial shone gray in the subtle light, the side nearest him covered in intricate carvings. He circled slowly to get a better look but stepped into a patch of painfully cold air, and gasped.
“H…e…l…l…s!” His breath escaped in a foggy cloud, turning to icy crystals right before his face. The air bit at his exposed skin and he suddenly longed for his torch. Even that small bit of fire would have felt nice, but it was gone…lost to the ivy in the other chamber.
“Why…is it so…cold?” Jez asked, the skin around her eyes and lips turning dark. Thorben shook his head, sucked in a breath, the air making his teeth hurt, and spit it back out again.
“This isn’t right…we should…go.”
He shook her off, “we find something to take with us first. If we find Gor again and have nothing to offer, things will go badly. If I can find…something…extraordinary…then your father is…all the better for it.” He couldn’t possibly hope that she would forget about the ring, but maybe…just maybe, she wouldn’t mention it if he found something better.
“No burden,” he mumbled, kicking the leaves
again, revealing more of the nasty roots. The plants wound all the way around the stone base, like gnarly red and brown snakes, looping in and out of the fog. They made his skin crawl.
Thorben leaned in closer, his eyes struggling to pick out small details in the gloom and fog. Jez knelt down next to him, sucked in a shaky breath, and blew hard, scattering the thick, bubbling mist. The branching, crawling roots reappeared just under the foggy cover, worming their way into the stone itself.
He followed the strange vegetation up the side of the casket, tracing it to the lid, where they spread like stringy fingers, bound to and corkscrewing clean through the stone.
Thorben slid his hands under the stone lid and lifted. The heavy rock shifted, a crackling noise filling the air, like hemp rope stretching but refusing to break. He hesitated and ran a finger around the gap between base and lid, confirming what his eyes couldn’t see in the gloom and fog. The odd-looking plant had grown all the way around the box, the looping, crisscrossing flora effectively sealing the box closed.
Strange, it looks too perfect to be by chance – how? Why would it do that? It’s grown all the way around the lid, and perfectly at that, almost as if…he thought, and instinctively reached out, hooking a finger under one of the stringing roots, just beneath where it disappeared into a crack in the lid.
Jez appeared on the other side of the sarcophagus, her eyes wide, and shook her head. “Wait!” she said.
Thorben hesitated, lifting his finger just enough to stretch the plant taught.
“Look at the way it is growing,” she said, her teeth chattering loudly. “Doesn’t it look like…well…the plant is trying to keep it shut?”
“Trying to keep it shut?” he asked, laughing nervously at the thought. “That would mean the plant is capable of reason, and that cannot be the case. Plants don’t think, they just…grow. Perhaps it is just drawn to the stone…like the ivy that climbs the bluffs of Darimar or the River Watch tower on the fork of the Snake River. They’re just plants…they do what they do,” Thorben said, as if talking to one of his children. Jez, however, didn’t look entirely convinced. She rubbed her arms and backed away, eyes sweeping the clearing.