by M. C. Elam
“How long before we enter?” he asked. His heart pounded in anticipation of the event.
“You must go now. You’ll need time to reach the entrance and climb out of the lower chamber before the sea returns,” said Griffin. He carried a coiled rope over his shoulder.
“What’s that for?” asked Hawk.
“You could take a skiff and try to make the beach outside the caves, but scaling the cliff is faster. Come this way.” Griffin led them around the point to a place where a section of rock extended over the chasm. “Dragon’s tail,” he told them. He tied a loop in one end of the rope and secured it around the rock then dropped the coil over the side.
“Maybe the skiff would be better,” said Hawk. He had never been keen on heights.
“You’d not let a wee cliff stop you now, would you brother?” Terill embraced his father, took the rope with both hands, wrapped his leg around it, and stepped into the air. Hand-over-hand, he made the decent. The rope went slack, and he waved his arms motioning for Hawk.
Hawk looked at Griffin, sucked in a great breath, and took hold of the rope. “Should I die in the trying,” he shouted.” I’ll have at least gone out a willing soldier.” He gave Griffin a jaunty salute and stepped into the air.
“Young rascal,” Griffin laughed. “You are your father’s son. May Shadall see you safe.”
***
For over an hour, they climbed along the jagged cavern wall. The exertion left Hawk winded, and the muscles in the calves of his legs throbbed. Terill was a ways behind him. He took advantage of the chance to rest by turning toward the chasm and sliding down the rock wall until his legs dangled over the lip of the ledge. He and Terill carried identical leather satchels. While he waited, Hawk rummaged through the contents of his and found an ivory handled dagger. He took it from the finely tooled sheath and tested its balance. I’ve a better home for this, he thought. He attached the sheath to his belt, and slipped the dagger home. The next item to catch his attention was a vial of red fluid marked with a poison symbol. No doubt it was the feign death potion Griffin mentioned. A second vial contained an amber liquid he surmised must be either the shrinking potion or its counterpart, but since it bore no label, he couldn’t be sure which. The small vials seemed to glow in the greenish, cavern light.
“Taking your ease, brother.” Terill had reached the ledge.
“Thought I might,” said Hawk. He hefted a large bag of smooth stones, like the kind found in a riverbed. “What do you make of this? Heavy as blazes.”
“Aye, I thought the same.” Terill scrunched down the wall and sat on the ledge beside Hawk “We could leave them behind.”
Hawk shook his head. “Your father said we’d need everything. What potions do you carry?”
Terill fumbled inside his bag and pulled out a vial. “A heart marks this one. Must be the antidote for feign death. No marking on the other that I see. I guess it’s the one that changes our size.”
“The second vial in my bag isn’t marked either,” said Hawk.
“How do you think we can tell which shrinks and which restores?” Terill looked quizzical.
“Don’t you know?” said Hawk.
Terill shrugged. “Not a clue.” He put the vial back into the bag and found something else.
“What’s that?” Hawk watched him open a small pouch.
“Look,” said Terill, ‘the magic dice.”
“Only you carry the dice.”
“Aye.”
“Do you believe in magic, Terill?”
“I believe in my father. If he tells me something is true, I know I can trust him. I wish he had told us more about the potions, though.”
“Perhaps he wanted us to decide on our own. That’s why I fear leaving anything behind,” said Hawk.
“He and your father carried the same items when they quested here,” said Terill.
“My father, using magical items? Hard to picture.”
“My father believes magic lives everywhere.”
“Look the water is rising,” said Hawk.
“We have to keep going. The sea shall return soon and flood the cavern.”
Hundreds of feet below seawater already covered the mouth of the cave and two thirds of the climb remained.
“I think I see the water mark.” Hawk pointed to a place near the ceiling. “When we reach the last ledge, we can rest as long as we want.”
He stood, offered a hand to Terill, and began to climb, intent on the high place. Despite growing fatigue, one look at the rushing water drove him to keep a strong pace up the twisting path that cut forward and back like a sand serpent. The water surged closer, and Hawk knew he had to move faster if they were to reach the ledge before that rushing force washed them off the path. Every ounce of effort he possessed pushed him forward. He rounded another bend and stopped. A massive fist like protrusion blocked their ascent.
“What’s wrong,” Terill called.
“I think I missed the path. We’ll have to go back.”
“No, I see it on the other side of this bulge.”
“Aye, but how do we get to it?”
“Climb over?”
“Impossible,” said Hawk.
“Nay, brother, never impossible. I’m a good hand at rock climbing. Push against the wall, and let me pass.” Terill inched by him, assessed the best course, and started to climb. “Take note of my hand and footholds. Climb as I do,” he called to Hawk.
Hours later, Hawk rolled over the lip of the high ledge and lay panting beside Terill. The ledge made their bed that night, and exhausted, they slept.
Sometime near morning, a dream of Evangeline made him stir. He gathered her into his arms, drowning in the sweet fragrance of her hair. When he sought to hold her closer, she pushed him away, shook her head, and spoke in an odd gravely sort of voice.
“Hawk, wake up. We’ve been asleep for hours.”
He opened his eyes wondering why Evan shook him from sleep, and what was wrong with her voice. Not Evan, he thought staring at Terill’s blurry features. He blinked to clear his vision, tried to stand, and sat down, a pointed section of the ledge poking his tender arse. He used his arms to lift his body off the protrusion.
“Devil take me!” he shouted louder than he meant. The resounding echo filled the chamber.
Terill chewed his lip and tried to repress a snicker. “Seems the cave people feel the same way, though I don’t think they’d call up any devils, do you?” He offered Hawk an arm.
“I expect I best sit here a minute or two. My legs feel like giant tree stumps rooted in rock.”
“Stiff? Me too, when I first awoke. Stretch them out a bit.”
“Numb, I can’t feel my feet,” said Hawk.
“You’ll find them soon enough.”
“Aye, already I feel the sting of the climb returning.”
“My belly grinds for my mother’s warm bread and melted goat cheese,” said Terill.
“Mine, too.”
“We’ll gorge on it when we get home.”
“Aye,” Hawk agreed. He stood and draped the leather knapsack across his shoulders. “Ready?”
***
Terill led the way into the second cave, and Hawk stepped through behind him.
“Cave’s alight, my brother,” he said.
Terill nodded, “Father said our path would never be dark.”
Hawk grinned. “More magic miracles, I suppose?”
“A miracle is something that happens when you need it.”
“More of your father’s wisdom?”
“Nay, my mother’s,” Terill grinned.
“The light grows brighter toward the bottom. Maybe the descent will be easier than our journey yesterday.”
Without the constant worry of drowning, the journey did seem easier. They made frequent rest stops. About half way to the bottom, they heard moving water. Alarmed, Terill stopped and peered over the edge.
Hawk slapped him on the back. “Scared me too.”
“Wher
e’s it coming from?”
“Ahead, I think.”
Farther along, they identified the source. An underground spring had carved a slim channel through the cavern wall, and the water emptied into small basin before it plunged over the lip. Terill took a knee, scooped some into his cupped hands, and tasted.
“Sweet and fresh,” he said.
Hawk knelt beside him and drank. Big handfuls ran up his arms and spilled over his bare chest. “Better than my father’s finest wine,” He was glad Terill had warned him off drinking seawater last night. “At least we won’t die for lack of drink,” He laughed aloud, the sound cackling back to them. The cave people were happy.
Refreshed, they moved on.
Far larger than the first cavern, the second ran deep into the earth, but because the gentle slope made their descent easier, they reached a stopping point quicker than the day before and stood amid a forest of giant pillars that grew out of the floor.
“The Cavern of Lost Warriors,” said Terill.
The rock protrusions did bear a strong resemblance to a warrior’s posture. Hawk touched the stone and looked up. The surface felt wet and slick. The formation seemed to swirl until he thought he saw a shield and, above that, the profile of a man. He drew his hand away and the vision faded.
“You know about this place?” he asked.
“From legends, but they are only stories. I know Father believes.”
“Why are they lost?
“According to the stories, they lost their honor, each for a different reason. I remember one about a headman of Shadall named Malconet. The village came under attack, and he left his wife and daughters alone to lead his warriors against the enemy. When the battle ended, he found his family dead. The story goes that he took his own life because he believed he had forsaken them.”
“But if the story tells what happened to him, why is he lost?”
“Because, my brother, one who dies by his own hand can never return to the sea. They say he dwells here while his spirit wanders, seeking a place to rest.”
“They didn’t all kill themselves, did they?” said Hawk.
“Nay, there are other stories, but all broke the laws of Shadall and suffer the same consequence.”
“Which one is Malconet?”
Terill shook his head.
Hawk touched the stone pillar again. “It feels wet.”
“The tears of the warrior, he waits to be freed,” said Terill
“How?”
“Our success will send one to Shadall.”
“Malconet?”
“Shadall chooses.”
“Do you believe the legend?”
Terill shrugged. “That a soul will go free? Aye, that part I believe. But whether or not the story of Malconet is true, I cannot say.”
“I believe,” said Hawk. He looked up again at the face in the stone pillar. “We will succeed, my cold friend.”
They slept that night as warriors, back-to-back, daggers in hand. Morning found them alert and ready to cross to the next opening. Though never dark in the cavern, after only two days, they had come to think of the time they slept as night and the hour they awoke as morning. Awed by the stone warriors that stood at attention and marked the journey, they crossed the cavern in subdued silence. Weary and ravenous they rested at the mouth of the next cave late that day.
***
“Father said the caves would provide,” said Terill.
He sat cross-legged waiting for Hawk to break from slumber, gave up, and poked him with a toe.
“What?” Hawk grumbled.
“Father said the caves would provide anything we do not carry. But I tell you, brother, if we don’t find something to eat soon; I may rip off a chunk of my own flesh and swallow that.”
Hawk sat up, laughing.
“When I was a boy and complained of hunger, my father always said I didn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“And now?” said Terill.
“And now, I suspect I still don’t. Two days will not see us starve or even reduce the flesh on our bones enough to notice.”
“I could eat a barrus,” said Terill.
They heard a low growl and turned in time to see a huge bearlike creature rear on its hind legs and start toward them. Mouth open wide and yawping with rage through four-inch fangs, it looked ready to rip them apart. And such claws, Hawk knew one swipe would shred their flesh. Plenty of wild barrus’ roamed the forests in Ascalla. He had encountered them often while riding. From boyhood, they delighted him. Short muzzles and round ears softened by thick fur, gave their almond-shaped eyes a dreamy look, but cornered, a barrus, any barrus, turned savage. Even a small one could take down a horse and rider, and Hawk learned early to give them a wide berth. No chance for that today, the barrus advanced until it was close enough that he felt its breath. He had never seen one so large, eleven feet at least, and nothing dreamy about the way it glowered at them.
“Your dagger, brother, by the breath of Ascalla, where is your dagger?”
“Fallen, but what does it matter. We can’t slay a barrus with a dagger,” said Terill.
“Do we end here, then?”
Terill didn’t answer.
“I didn’t come here to die in a cave.” Hawk lunged. “Pick up your dagger and stand with me.” His strike missed the barrus, but the effort bought time for Terill to retrieve the dagger.
So fast that they did not even see it move, the animal shifted left. It charged, and Hawk leapt away. One claw raked across his thigh. Blood ran down his leg pooling on the cavern floor. Terill lunged, but before his dagger could strike, the barrus shifted right, slashed at his head, and opened a wound across his scalp. Blood dripped into his eyes.
“I can’t see.”
“I am near, brother. Strike when I call out.”
Their daggers cut air. The barrus eluded them, shifting from side to side.
“How can it move so fast?” Terill shouted.
The barrus tore at his chest, but he dodged in time to avoid the worst of the blow.
“It knows,” said Hawk.
“Knows what?”
“I think it knows where we intend to strike.”
“That’s crazy.”
“I tell you, it knows.”
“What do we do? Wait until it slashes us to pieces?”
Hawk jumped back, dragging Terill with him, just in time to avoid another blow.
“Strike right, while I strike left. We’ll fool it,” said Hawk.
“And if we fail, one of us dies.”
“Nay, if we fail, both of us die.”
“Shoulder your pack, brother,” said Terill. He made a grab for his own. “And if we succeed, run like a mountain wraith gnaws upon your princely arse.”
“The barrus has a piece of it already. On three we strike.”
The force of the assault sent them sprawling past the animal. They had missed the mark again. Terill fell hard and lay stunned. Hawk gained his feet, spun around, and raised his dagger. He’d be dead in a minute, but at least he’d die on his feet.
“It’s gone!” he said.
“Dead?”
“No, just gone.”
Terill’s grin looked ghoulish with all the blood matted in his hair and dripping down his cheeks. He struggled to stand. “I know one thing,” he said.
“We’re alive?”
“That too, but I was thinking of something else. I was thinking I would never again say that I am hungry enough to eat a barrus.”
“Thank my father’s royal drawers you did not dream up something larger.”
“Aye and hungry as I am, I might well have wished for two, so as not to have to share.”
Hawk laughed. “Coincidence, Terill. Nothing more.”
“Magic, Hawk.”
“Perhaps, but we did win.”
Across the cavern, a stone pillar crumbled to dust, but the distance was too far for them to hear.
Terill. He examined the back of Hawk’s thigh and boun
d it with strips torn from his own shirt. “A shallow wound, brother,”
“Aye, but bloody and painful. How is your head? Let’s have a look.” Hawk pushed aside Terill’s blood soaked hair.
“No bone showing and your hair protects the wound. You’ll live, Terill.” He gave up his examination of the scalp wound and sat with one leg cocked and the other stretched out straight, pampering the torn calf.
Terill dabbed at his chest with what was left of his shredded shirt. “Think what a great fuss the ladies will make over our wounds when we return,” he said.
“I desire the attention of only one lady,” said Hawk.
“My gut cries for Mother’s golden dumplings and berry pie, better than kisses from the fairest maiden.”
“I hope we are not attacked by a giant chicken. Let’s get moving.”
“Or a nice fat porker spitted, and apples roasting in the embers, or bread pudding, my mother make the finest bread pudding in Shadall.”
Hawk sighed. He wished Terill would stop talking about being hungry. Merely suggesting food made him salivate.
“Maybe venison, do you like venison, Hawk?”
“Again with the food, Terill?”
“I annoy you?”
“Aye, you do. I am hungry, too.”
***
Hawk tried to plot the shortest path across the new cavern. He had noticed a change in temperature as soon as they entered. It kept rising until both he and Terill mopped beads of sweat from their foreheads. The place had a smell like rocks around a campfire, a dense smell, mixed with ashes and earth. The same odor came from the forge when a smith worked hot iron. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but subtle and heavy. They neared the center of the cavern, rounded a rock formation, and stopped. A fissure, fifty-feet wide, created a gap that spanned the cave and blocked the way to the other side. Here lay the source of the heat and odor. Molten lava filled the gap.
“What now?” said Hawk. “It’s too wide to jump.” Sweat dripped from his face, and he wiped it away with the back of one hand.
“Maybe we can find a place that isn’t so wide.”
“I can’t see a place where it narrows at all. Can you?”
“We can’t see the whole span. We need to have a look further down,” said Terill.