by Bill Ricardi
Under the feline’s expert instruction, we quickly built up the main dome. There wasn’t too much to create, the bulk of the structure was dug into the snow rather than built over it. With the compressed snow cut to Ames’ exact specifications, it all fit together nicely. We quickly slid down the escape tunnel to join our companions. After taking out our blankets, we all transferred our packs to the tunnel. Finally we moved the pot as close as possible to the air hole, so that our dome didn’t melt.
Five shivering adventurers huddled together under a shelter of ice and snow. None of us spoke about the blizzard raging above, which could potentially collapse the little dugout under its weight. Instead we bundled up and enjoyed the few minutes of warmth that the magic cooking pot would provide.
When the pot’s enchantment fizzled out, Toby pointed at the device. “How many more times can you do that?”
I replied, “Two more times today.”
The big bull sighed and nodded. “Then let it cool down some so that the air circulates. In a couple of hours we can activate it again to burn the snow away from the air shaft, and so on. Rick, will your spell work down here?”
The tall human nodded. “It should. If we’re stuck here tonight, we’ll be comfortable. It certainly doesn’t generate enough heat to melt the walls.”
There was nothing left to do except relax. We all drank from the pot while the water was still warm. Soon after that Will said, “Anyone who wants to get some rest, go ahead. I’ll activate the cooking pot in a couple of hours, and then someone else can take watch.”
As might be expected, Toby took up around half of the space available, even curled up as he was. That was fine though, sharing body heat was part of the plan. Rick and Will leaned on the minotaur’s left side, while Ames and I curled up against his right. The small human who was on watch took out the bard’s journal and started reading in the dim light provided by the air shaft. I decided to close my eyes. Sleep came quickly.
Suddenly I was floating high in the sky, looking downwards through the blizzard. It felt like a huge pair of hands was lifting me, giving me this new perspective. A feminine voice that I had never heard before spoke to me.
She asked, “What would you ask of me, Sorch Stonebreaker?”
I answered, bewildered, “I’m Sorch Stonebender, why do you call me…”
I was cut off by laughter, a sound so sharp that it sounded like ice shattering. “Today you bend, but tomorrow you break. Such is the way of all mortal things.”
Suddenly, I knew. “You are Glogur's Bane. Omi-Suteth.”
The voice turned cold, and with it so did my entire body. “Ah so you do know of me. And yet you willingly defy my edict. Are you not afraid?” Slowly my perspective changed, as in if I was being lowered into the storm.
I answered the goddess, honestly, “I was more afraid of living a life of nothingness. I was more afraid that my people would go hungry. Do you remember what hunger is?”
There was a long pause. This time the voice was gentle. “I know what hunger is, Sorch Stonemender. I would wish it upon noone.”
Again, she took liberties with my name. “Why do you…”
“Tomorrow you break. But broken things can be mended. What would you ask of me?”
We were low enough that I could see the top of our shelter, now almost buried in the torrent of snow.
I tried to remember the words. “Shaman told me that Kenvunk was sorry for what he said to you.”
Omi-Suteth said, softly, “He was angry at my punishment of Glogur. He said he didn’t love me anymore.”
“He’s sorry. I don’t know if he still loves you. But he’s sorry.”
The snow fell thick all around us as we floated down. I was nearly touching the shelter now.
“What would you ask of me, mortal?”
“I ask that you give us another chance.”
I was lifted once again, experiencing the vertigo that comes with defying gravity in an impossible way. Tears cascaded all around me as the ground fell away. They crystallized and became like the snow, falling into the blanket of white below.
The goddess murmured in my ear, “Perhaps. Mend what you have broken, Sorch Stonebender. Then we shall see.”
And with that she let me go.
The terror that accompanies imminent death by falling gripped me. My belly seized up as our dome of ice and snow approached rapidly. But rather than shatter it, or shatter against it, I flowed through the structure like sunlight through a window. Briefly I saw myself huddled in blankets, embraced by Ames.
Then I was back in my own body. I keenly felt the chill of having been held suspended in the storm, whether or not that experience physically happened. I was cold. So cold. I was certain that I would freeze to death.
But instead a warmth surged through my body. I was surrounded by soft white fur.
I woke slowly, wrapped in blankets, and wrapped again in a sea of Ames’s plush coat. A Light spell had been cast, likely by Will, since our air hole was too clogged by snow to provide enough light for reading. I twisted around to look across the bulk of Toby’s slumbering body. The small human was going through the journal without a care in the world. Apparently the man didn’t perceive anything that had happened to me, if there was any physical manifestation to speak of in the first place.
Clawed paws tugged absently at my hips, trying to get me to settle. I had roused my feline companion with my squirming. Turning so that I was nose-to-muzzle with the cat, I murmured, “Ames. I dreamt of you, of this moment, years ago. I think you saved me.”
The were-cat cracked open one emerald eye. “More sleep please.” was the mumbled reply.
I insisted, “It was a premonition. And Omi-Suteth spoke to me.”
Ames groaned softly, “Tell her we’re tired.”
I squeezed the feline’s shoulder. Both eyes opened.
I murmured, “Listen. I’ve been dreaming about you for years. Since well before I knew anything about the outside world. I just didn’t know it was you until this moment. I don’t know what it means, but I know you’re important to me. All of you are. But in particular, you.”
Ames propped themself up on one elbow. Groggily, the were-cat commented, “Well, I’m glad. I am. And I feel some kind of connection, I honestly do. But we just met, so maybe save the whole ‘fates intertwined’ thing until the second date. What do you say?”
I grumbled.
The were-cat stroked my back, absently. “I’m not taking this lightly. It means something. But under the circumstances, we’re not in a position to research or explore what exactly it all means.”
I sighed a little. “Yes, you’re right. Okay. I just wanted to let you know. Just in case.”
The feline rolled their emerald green eyes. “Just in case? We’ve been in tougher spots before you joined our little troupe. With you along for the ride, we can handle this, and much more.”
I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. I took the time to refresh my intellect enhancements, and to meditate before my midday spell memorization. As I slipped free of Ames’ grasp to go get my spellbook, Will called over to me, softly. “You can turn on the pot again Sorch, it’s time.”
I crawled up the escape shaft to gather some snow that I could fill the pot with. There was plenty of it. At least a foot and a half of snow had fallen in the last two hours, obscuring the air hole. I gathered a reasonable amount and made tight snowballs out of it so that I could roll our new water supply down the shaft. I managed to poke a hole through to open air, and I peered around. The wind was still gusting hard and it was still snowing, but not as bad as it had been when we were forced to take shelter.
The pot was filled to the brim with snowballs. “Blaze.” I murmured, activating the wondrous device. Within minutes the water was simmering. I added some chicken bouillon that I had made from drippings in the Vole’s kitchen. Once that had reached a full boil, I sprinkled in garlic powder, and added the dried carrot chunks. The aroma quickly filled our small shelter,
and hungry adventurers were soon awake and alert.
As the carrots boiled and softened, I gave my friends the weather report. Ames looked relieved and commented, “That’s good. It’s a lot of snow, but if the squall is already dying down, it should be over in a couple of hours.”
The taller of the two humans interjected, “Excellent, we can make the caves before nightfall if we really push.” There was a chorus of groans and protests, but Rick wouldn’t budge. He was the designated expedition leader. It was his job to keep us on track and on budget, but more importantly, to make sure that we had enough resources to complete our mission and make it back home safely. Eventually we all agreed to make the effort, before crowding around the pot to receive ladles of soup in our tin cups.
When we were done eating, I studied my spellbook as the others made their own preparations. The small space got appreciably warmer with the pot blazing away for an hour. Coffee was brewed just before the duration ran its course, but I passed. By the time I was finished the pot was cool again, and people were starting to bundle up for the final leg of our journey.
Outside, the snow was coming down at a much more manageable rate. We marked the entrance to the shelter with a couple of thin wooden stakes, just in case we needed to use it on the way back and it was still intact. Toby joked that we wouldn’t need the markers because he was going to ‘turn this entire mountainside yellow’ after having been cooped up for hours. Ames looked at him in disgust while the rest of us laughed.
The remainder of the journey passed without incident. The snow stopped falling entirely by late afternoon. We made it to the Ice Caves an hour past nightfall. The entrance that we discovered was a modestly sized hole in the mountainside. A wider bulge around a dozen paces from the entryway provided the perfect spot for Rick’s Zone of Comfort spell. There was a collective sigh of satisfaction when the hour of preparation had finished, and the tall human’s spell took effect. It was like standing on a placid hilltop on a warm spring day. We divvied up the watches into four shifts, and got some sleep.
I wouldn’t say it was restful sleep. Real or imagined, several of us thought that we heard noises coming from an area deeper inside the mine. The thought was unsettling. If some creature or band of creatures had taken over the mines, they would very likely want to get out at some point, and we would be in the way. But other than the faint sounds, nothing else manifested.
When we moved south, away from the relative safety of the cave’s entrance, Rick and Will used Light cantrips on the tips of thin wooden stakes. They served as effective and reliable torches that didn’t shed heat. After just a dozen paces, the makeup of the walls and floor shifted from ice to stone. As we moved deeper into the mines, this bright white illumination revealed an architectural complexity that was beyond my initial expectations.
As I learned from Will, when you find a salt deposit, it is usually massive in scale. In this case, the mines were several hundred paces in length and at least two floors deep if the halfling bard’s notes held true. Each passage and each room were carved in near-perfect right angles. We walked through square hallways into massive, towering rectangular chambers. One could see where square slabs had been cut from the walls, presumably to be processed outside of the mines themselves.
Exploring every nook and cranny of such a large area took two hours. We had to make sure that there were no secret or concealed passageways that could be used against us later. Another factor was vertical exploration. There were several areas that were multi-tiered, requiring one or more of us to climb up in order to check things out. We found nothing suspect or dangerous.
In the middle of the southern wall of the main chamber, a broad circular ramp curled downwards, connecting the first level with the second. We spiraled to the left, 270 degrees. This chamber was more confined than the last, perhaps thirty paces by fifteen. At the far end of the room, access tunnels forked off in three directions: West, northwest, and southwest.
Ames confirmed what the rest of us had heard periodically. “Some kind of noise up ahead. I can’t tell which tunnel it’s coming from yet.”
As it turned out, the noise couldn’t have been coming from either the left or the right tunnels. Each of them terminated abruptly after around 50 paces. The perfectly square stone hall gave way to a chaotic lunge of limestone and salt. It was as in if a massive stalagmite had suddenly and violently thrust itself from the ground to block the passage. That kind of aberration happening once might have been explained away by a natural occurrence, but twice was a rather suspicious pattern.
“Something corrupt happened here.” murmured Toby, looking melancholy.
Will reached up and patted his shoulder. “I agree big man. Let’s be on our guard.”
Ames took the lead, insisting that the rest of us stay at least a dozen paces behind. To most people, we were relatively quiet. To the feline we were like a herd of moronic elephants, bumbling around without a care in the world. Under Ames’ instruction, the Light enspelled torches were kept in the very back of our group, directly behind myself and Toby. The two of us cast large shadows in front of us. We were still benefiting from the light somewhat, but we weren’t blowing the were-cat’s cover. The shadows were Ames’ friend.
The party proceeded slowly up the central passage. Toby had weapon and shield at the ready, and I assumed that Ames was leading us by the tip of their own sword. Lit from behind as I was, I proceeded with caution. I double checked my footing before taking each step. Comparatively, we were well past the point where the other two passages had been blocked off. The mysterious sounds were getting louder; even the humans could hear them now. It was like someone was still working in the mines. Not cutting away the stone, but shifting slabs of already hewn salt-rock perhaps. It was a periodic sliding / grinding noise, the kind of vibration that ran through your heels and up the base of your spine.
Suddenly, Ames was back in our group, holding up both paws. We all stopped and crouched. The were-cat stepped back towards the darkness ahead of us, got to all fours, and crawled forwards. It was a long, tense five minutes before anything else happened.
Finally the feline appeared again, cobwebs in their whiskers. Ames took out a piece of chalk and quickly started writing and adding a crude sketch or two.
From what I could make out, there was a large room or cavern ahead of us with some kind of divide down the middle. Ames had found an isolated observation point high and to the right of this area that we could safely talk in. The notes said that there was some form of large creature deeper in the cavern, but it shouldn't notice us if we were careful. The were-cat made Rick and Will put away their lights before we set off.
We slowly crept up the passageway, eventually making it to the large chamber that Ames had described. It was much like the main chamber on the floor above, at least for the first fifteen paces. Then it was as in if nature had rebelled and decided to reclaim the man-made cavern. Eruptions of salt and stone pitted the walls. Stalactites and stalagmites randomly jutted from ceiling and floor, as in if placed there by a god of chaos. Puddles of water and slush filled the melon sized holes in the ground. Phosphorescent moss grew in large patches along the walls and ceiling, casting the entire turbulent scene in an eerie green glow.
The party walked up an incline to the right, just along the inside wall of the chamber. It was an even gradient, very likely made by sentient hands. This led up to what looked to be an office or observation post of some sort, complete with an old wooden door in surprisingly good condition. We crept inside, seeing no sign of the creature that Ames had noted in their chalk diagram.
The room was five paces by eight paces, but tall enough that Toby could stand at full height. In fact, I could have stood on the minotaur’s shoulders without bumping my head. There was a plain waist-height stone slab in the middle of the room. As we closed the door behind us, I quickly surmised why it had lasted for over a hundred years. “Elven magic.”
I said it aloud, and my companions nodded in agreement.
Because in the western wall of the room there was a metallic porthole hanging open. Behind it was a thick, circular, perfectly clear pane of glass. It was tough enough to have survived whatever natural and unnatural seismic shifts that had befallen the chamber beyond. There were ‘spy hooks’ above the port hole, where one could hang a blanket or heavy cloak. This allowed an official, or foreman, or jailor to look through the porthole and into the room beyond, without giving themselves away with the ambient light of their own room.
Rick dug into his pack for a blanket and made use of those hooks. He then stepped behind the hanging cloth to observe the room beyond. This allowed us to make use of the rusted but functional sconce, and light a mundane torch to illuminate the room.
Will postulated that this was the foreman’s observation room and office. The slab would have served as his desk, and such a place would have needed a sturdy door for any kind of payroll activities. It was as good of a theory as any.
Ames took out quill, ink, and parchment to map out what we had seen so far. I was impressed with the feline’s level of detail. For the very fine lines, the quill was set aside in favor of a sharp claw dipped in the back ink. By the time the were-cat was done, there was a floorplan accurate enough to use as the basis of a detailed escape plan.
Toby and Will discussed how long we would observe the next room, as well as the party’s next potential move. I made myself useful, digging into Ames’ pack for a brush. As the were-cat blew on the map to dry the ink, I brushed the cobwebs out of their whiskers and the fur of their muzzle. There was quite a bit of rumbled purring. I caught Will and Toby sharing a surprised glance. Apparently they had not guessed how close Ames and I had become in such a short time.
As I was putting the brush away, a muffled voice called out, “Will.” The human hurried over and slid behind the hanging blanket, as Rick shuffled out of the way.
Whatever the smaller human saw made him say, “What in the infernal hells is that?”
The taller mage said, for the benefit of everyone, “I’ve never seen one in person, but I believe that would be a salt elemental.”