by Lana Axe
“Indeed,” Taren agreed. “This pillar probably would have tried to drown us. That is, if it had been in working condition.” He strode forward boldly to examine the worn surface of the pillar. It appeared that a chunk of ceiling had fallen from above and crashed onto the pillar at some point. It was sturdy at the base but too weak at its narrow top to withstand such a blow. The area that once held the gem had been obliterated.
Zamna stepped forward cautiously and knelt down next to the pillar. Brushing away the crumbled stones, he retrieved the gem. After wiping the dust on his pants, he lifted the stone to his mouth and bit down. Though he couldn’t speak for the quality, the hardness betrayed it as a genuine sapphire. Raising his eye ridges, he looked up at his companion. “You think Boney will mind if I take a souvenir?”
Taren shrugged and looked at their skeleton guide. He stood firm, facing away from the travelers. Still no words escaped his mouth. If he was upset by the theft, he certainly wasn’t showing it. It appeared the stone was of no consequence to him.
Zamna tucked the precious gem into a pocket and motioned that he was ready to proceed. With the skeleton leading the way, they entered into a wide corridor, this one sloping downward as they continued on. The air became cooler and slightly damp, as if they had entered a cave. As the path proceeded lower, they realized they must now be underground.
Taren’s heart was pounding in his ears, his anxiety rising. They must be extremely close now. He could almost feel the surface of the symbol in his hand. It could be in his grasp within minutes. Whispering to his companion, he asked, “Does it feel different in here to you?”
Zamna sniffed the air. “I think the air is staler,” he replied. “It smells like rotting. There probably hasn’t been a living person down here for hundreds of years.” After a brief pause, he added, “It reminds me a little of that pit I was thrown in back in Yilde.”
“What I meant was, do you sense anything?” Taren wondered if the symbol would cry out to anyone who was nearby, even if the person had no magical abilities.
“Like what?” Zamna wondered. “I don’t get the feeling I’m being watched, if that’s what you mean.”
“A presence, a person, anything,” Taren said. “I feel like we’re nearly there.”
Zamna shrugged. “You must have a sense I lack,” he said. “If I could detect magic, I wouldn’t have stepped on that trap and got myself into trouble.” Though he did rely on intuition at times, he preferred to rely on the facts before him. Anything he could see, smell, or hear was important, and he made a point of taking in his surroundings at all times. An assassin always had to be on guard. This tomb felt empty and nothing more.
From the depths of the tomb, Taren could swear he heard the symbol crying out to him. Undisturbed for centuries, it would soon know life again. In the hands of Master Imrit, it would work incredible feats of magic. It had to be there, waiting for him ahead in the darkness.
Waiting patiently for someone to claim it, the symbol had locked its powers away. Taren could hold it in his hands this very day. All his thoughts focused on the symbol and how it would feel to finally retrieve it. How long would it take to return home? Would Imrit be able to sense it when the symbol was finally in the hands of his apprentice? Taren doubted it, but in secret, he hoped it was true. He could picture Imrit in his study, surrounded by books and scrolls. As the old man studied away, a notion would creep into his mind. He would behold a vision of Taren, symbol in hand. What pride the old man would feel in his apprentice. Young Taren, the boy he had practically raised, was now Master Taren.
Taren’s reverie was broken by a small furry creature brushing against his leg. It let out a shrill shriek, and the mage nearly did as well. Turning to see what it was, he watched as a rat scurried past him, heading upward along the sloping corridor. Zamna flashed the young mage a grin, his spikey teeth glistening in the pale light.
The stone floor continued sloping downward, and the light grew dimmer as they descended lower into the earth. How far they had gone, Taren couldn’t tell. The skeleton man said nothing, only continued along his way, never stopping or altering his pace. There was little choice but to follow until they reached the bottom.
Moving deeper along, a pungent smell emitted from below them. The skeletal guide was unfazed, but both Zamna and Taren grimaced at the horrible stench.
“Rotten eggs?” Taren asked.
“Maybe a poisonous gas,” Zamna suggested. “Maybe it’s a new way to try to get rid of us.”
It was highly possible they would encounter another trap. Their long journey through the descending corridor had been so far uneventful. They felt overdue for an attack. Stepping more cautiously as they went, the duo was prepared for anything.
“We have to be getting close,” Taren said. “I’d ask our guide, but he doesn’t seem to be much of a talker.”
“That’s an understatement,” Zamna replied. “Skeleton, are we almost out of this passageway?”
The skeleton said nothing. His creaking bones continued to move ahead, still sending up faint plumes of dust from time to time. Zamna shook his head. If he was truly leading them where they needed to go, then there was little need for him to speak. His guidance was enough in this vast labyrinth of stone structures. He had already saved them days of searching, so let him be silent if that was his desire.
After what seemed like an eternity, the path leveled off. An opening appeared before them, though it was not in the shape of a doorway like the others. This was a wide, irregular-shaped opening, similar to a cave mouth. The light became stronger again at this point, but soon it veered off, losing itself inside the massive room before them. It spread seemingly for miles in each direction. The yellow-tinged ceilings were adorned with giant stalactites wearing coats of shining white. They sparkled amid the dimly lit cavern, bringing beauty to the somber stillness inside.
Beneath their feet, the ground crunched audibly. It was coated in white as well, and tiny bits of mineral detached as their boots struck the ground. There were stalagmites of all size, ranging from one inch to several feet in length, though they were not as brightly colored as their counterparts on the ceiling. They wore a shade of tan upon the white, providing some variety to the room’s décor. In some spots, the ceiling and floor connected with columns, most of them too wide for Taren to wrap his arms around. This place was indeed ancient, having formed when the world was still young. Stepping inside this cavern was like stepping into history and witnessing firsthand the beauty that lay trapped far below the feet of humans and elves.
Deeper in the cavern, they discovered large pools of a turquoise liquid that yellowed as they came in contact with the minerals surrounding it. This was the source of the smell they had first encountered in the passageway. The pools bubbled and steamed with no visible source of heat.
“Have you ever seen anything like that?” Zamna asked, staring into one of the pools.
Taren shook his head, not taking his eyes away from the liquid. “I suspect these are filled with sulfur, or some compound composed of it.” He leaned down and held a hand above the pool, feeling the heat on his hand. “They must be heated by magma below us. This area is volcanic.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t plan to erupt any time soon,” Zamna commented.
“I could be wrong,” Taren said. “It’s possible they have been exposed to some magic that heats them. I’ve never read about such pools existing inside a cave.” Being in a cursed land meant that things were not necessarily as they seemed. In curiosity, he picked up a handful of small yellow rocks that had shaken loose from the ceiling and tossed them into the pool. In an instant, they vaporized, leaving no trace behind.
“We’d better watch our step,” Zamna warned. “I wouldn’t want to trip and land in that.”
From the corner of his eye, Zamna spotted movement along the white cave floor. Camouflaged perfectly was a four-inch-long creature with a slender torso and elongated arms and legs. Moving in for a closer look, he realize
d its skin was translucent, and the veins inside its body were clearly visible. Motioning for his companion to take a look, he marveled at the unique being before him.
“Is it an amphibian?” Taren asked, kneeling down next to it. In all his studies, he had never run across a creature quite like this.
Zamna shrugged. He moved no closer for fear of frightening the animal, though it seemed completely unbothered by his presence. Only once did it pause its motion and turn its head to one side. It had large, fanlike ears and a wide mouth, but no eyes could be seen on its face. Slowly it crept away from the pair, going about whatever business it had to do. The intruders in his home were of no interest.
Heading deeper inside the cavern, they beheld a network of swinging bridges where one could walk safely about the growing number of sulfur pools. The bone man led on, stopping abruptly as he reached the first bridge. The pair paused and exchanged glances, wondering why the skeleton had stopped.
“My duty is fulfilled,” it said, its voice seeming to shrink inside the cave. “I have done as I was bidden, and now I leave you.”
Before their eyes, the bones collapsed into a heap, sending up a small cloud of dust. The vast cavern spread out before them, and it seemed there were a million different routes to take. They did not know the location of their final destination.
“How could he have fulfilled his duty?” Taren asked in frustration. “We still don’t know where the sorceress rests.”
“I think we do,” Zamna replied, pointing into the distance. All of the bridges converged at a single point ahead. An expansive plateau stretched itself beneath an unseen light source. Upon this plateau rested a circular dais with a rectangular-shaped stone at the center of it.
“Ailwen’s tomb,” Taren whispered, his eyes fixed on the sarcophagus. All that remained was to cross the bridges and make their way to the dais. It was only a matter of steps before he reached the symbol.
Chapter 18
Zamna stepped onto the bridge first, followed closely by Taren. The planks beneath their feet swayed slightly under their weight but held fast. Despite their advanced age, the planks appeared to be in excellent condition. Pools of sulfur bubbled beneath them, releasing clouds of foul-smelling gas into the air. The travelers paid it no heed. Zamna’s mind focused on moving forward in hopes of finding treasure. His head turned in response to anything that glittered. Sadly, all he saw were traces of minerals shining under the magical light of the cavern.
Stepping up onto the plateau, they realized what they had seen from a distance had actually been a series of plateaus. There were several of them to be crossed before they reached the one that supported the sarcophagus. Each plateau along the way was graced by a series of statues, all depicting the same woman.
Stepping close to the first statue, Zamna asked, “Is this Ailwen?”
Taren did not know. “I have never seen a likeness of her,” he admitted.
The glistening white-stone statue depicted a female in a flowing gown, her hands poised to cast a spell. Her face showed determination, her angular features displaying her beauty. Flowing freely on a permanent breeze, her chiseled strands of hair drifted more than a foot away from the statue.
To Zamna’s disappointment, there were no jewels or other adornments on the statue. The figure did not interest him in the slightest. “Let’s keep moving,” he suggested.
Looking down from the next bridge revealed a deep chasm beneath them. Steam rose from the void below, but the pools of sulfur could not be seen.
“It’s a long way down,” Taren whispered, gripping tightly to the ropes at each side of the bridge.
Zamna, sure-footed as always, pressed on without looking down. The second plateau was home to two statues that faced opposite directions. Taren took a moment to observe them as well. They appeared to be the same woman, her hands outstretched as if casting magic throughout the vast cavern.
“She must have truly enjoyed looking at herself,” Taren commented, smiling.
“Too bad she didn’t enjoy gold or gems,” Zamna muttered. So far he had found only a single sapphire, and that would not be enough to allow him to retire. The cavern appeared bare, with no signs of any fortune to be had. Frustrated, he marched on to the third plateau.
The statue that greeted the travelers showed a sorceress with her staff raised high, her flowing robe billowing on an unseen breeze. Frozen for eternity, she lifted her staff in defiance of her enemies, casting them down with her immense power. Taren stood in amazement, staring at the intense features displayed on the statue’s face. Such concentration and strength, and absolute resolve, was almost intimidating. Though it was completely inanimate, he could feel the power radiating from the sculpted rock. Running his hand along its smooth surface, he was surprised to find that the stone was warm. The air inside the cavern was also warm, but for some reason he had expected the stone to feel cold. Its warmth only added to the awe he felt while gazing at it.
Zamna stepped forward, crossing his arms. “Excuse me,” he said. “I hate to break this up, but we have a mission to complete.”
Taren nodded, pulling his hand away from the statue. Crossing a final swinging bridge, they came at last to the fourth plateau, where the sarcophagus lay illuminated beneath an unseen light source. Zamna scanned the area for any sign of riches. No chests, no coffers, no piles of jewels or gems. There was nothing here for him. The tomb had already been stripped bare of its wealth, assuming there had ever been any to steal. Sighing with disappointment, he watched as Taren approached Ailwen’s final resting place.
Carved upon the lid of the sarcophagus was the effigy of the same woman whose face adorned the many statues throughout the cavern. It appeared as though she were only resting, which surprised the young mage, considering the action poses of her other statues. This didn’t seem to fit the vigorous lifestyle she obviously had led. Shining runes of silver displayed her name just below her feet. Taren rubbed a trembling hand across the chiseled letters. Ailwen lay before him.
“This is it!” he cried in excitement. “Finally!” He pushed with all his strength against the heavy stone lid, but it did not budge.
Zamna set aside his disappointment to lend some muscle to the task. Together they shoved, but the sarcophagus remained sealed.
“I’ll have to use magic,” Taren said. Reaching deep into his stores, he focused his energy to sliding the lid enough to peer inside the stone coffin. As he held the spell, a glint of gold inside caught his eye. Nearly losing his concentration, he focused once more, forcing the lid aside. It slid slowly to the side, landing heavily on the ground.
A cloud of dust rose out of the grave, and Taren fanned his hands to help clear it. His heart raced, and every vein in his body seemed to throb. This was his moment. The symbol was about to be his.
Taren could hardly breathe as he looked upon the remains of the once-great sorceress. Before him lay Ailwen in her skeletal form. Her bones were still arranged in the correct places, though her skin had long since rotted away. Nothing remained of her person but dried bones and dust. Upon her head she wore a simple, gold tiara. No magical staff, no jewels, and no other ornamentation graced her body. The symbol was not there. Taren’s heart sank into his feet.
Clutched in the sorceress’s bony hands was a scroll of parchment. Taren reached in to relieve the woman of her prize. Her grip held fast, and he had to pry her fingers away from the wooden ends of the scroll.
Noticing the look of utter despair on his friend’s face, Zamna asked, “Is it what you were looking for?”
Taren shook his head. “Right tomb, wrong item.” He raised the scroll to eye level, staring at it as if in a trance. He had come all this way for nothing. This scroll was probably the last laugh of the person who had taken the symbol away centuries ago. The thief had placed it there as a mockery to let the next person know he had already absconded with the prize.
Zamna saw the glint of gold from Ailwen’s tiara. Some gold is better than none, he thought. With a sin
gle swipe, he snatched the golden crown from her head and tucked it inside his bag. Instantly, the ground began to quake, accompanied by a low rumbling sound. A deep crack appeared in the plateau only feet away from the sarcophagus.
Taren thrust the scroll into the pocket of his robe and ran toward the rope bridge. Zamna followed two steps behind, pausing as he reached the bridge. The crack continued to widen, and the rumbling became more of a groan. Before their eyes, a massive chasm formed where they once had stood. All went silent.
The travelers glanced at each other, their feet glued to the ground. Should they run? Would they ever find their way back to the entrance? Could there possibly be a back door they were supposed to use? With the bone man in a heap, there was no one left to guide them. Instead of running, they stood frozen, staring at the chasm.
A flash of shiny black scales leapt from the depths, its agile body moving silently across the plateau. They gaped in horror at the enormous figure. It was solid black and slender like a snake or an eel, its body stretching to a distance of at least thirty feet. At each end, a triangular head with two glowing yellow eyes stared back at them. Flicking its forked tongues, it tasted the air for its victims.
The duo raced across the bridge, not stopping to look back. When they reached the end of the bridge, Zamna grabbed his companion’s arm, steering him along the plateau. Several feet ahead was a formation of massive columns that might protect them from the strange beast. The black creature pursued as the pair ran with all speed to the rock formations. Taking cover behind the solidified minerals, they paused a moment to catch their breath.
Taren tapped into his magic, preparing an energy blast for the approaching creature. It writhed and wriggled as it moved, and it was gaining ground on the pair, who were crouched behind the massive rocks. When the creature came into range, Taren unleashed the magic, sending the monster reeling. The pair took to their feet once more, their eyes scanning for a safer place to hide.