The Third Age of Obsidian [Quest for Earthlight Trilogy Book Three]

by Laraine Ann Barker

  Bart, however, noticed something that escaped Peter's attention.

  "We follow the lights.” He pointed at the nearest one, which promptly went out, only to return a moment later.

  Peter and Jamie now realized the effect of this phenomenon.

  "It's like a neon sign pointing to a mysterious and exciting shop door, only more so!” Peter said.

  Bart took Obsidianus's bridle in one hand and Crystalline's in the other and led them carefully towards the lights. Both horses moved over the uneven ground with no signs of nervousness. Dreyfus advanced with greater ease than either horses or humans.

  "It might be an idea to lead the horses rather than ride,” Bart said. “Ceilings—and floors, too—can suddenly get lower in caves."

  The boys dismounted and did as Bart suggested. Only then was Peter aware his heart was thumping in uneven jerks. He stopped at the first light. Its strange greenish glow washed over his face and went out. There was something peculiarly magnetic about it and its fellows. He simply had to know more about them. He bent down.

  "It looks like ordinary stone—just some type of rock.” Gingerly he put his free hand out. When, at a mere few inches from the rough surface, he could still feel no heat, he lowered his hand onto the stone. It was icy cold. As his palm touched the stone, the light shone out again. He snatched his hand away. “Is it some sort of phosphorus?"

  "I doubt it. Phosphorus doesn't pulse off and on like that.” Bart looked back. “Come on. We've no time to waste."

  Peter straightened and led Argent forward, studying each stone briefly as he passed. They seemed to have nothing in common in shape apart from being roughly the same size.

  As he walked by the last stone, Peter's attention was drawn back to his surroundings. Ahead was the long broad tunnel down which Bart was about to disappear, while behind, still lit by the flickering stone-lights, he glimpsed five or six yawning mouths leading to smaller tunnels. The thought that they had rushed headlong through one of those tunnels without being able to see where they were going brought his skin out in goose-bumps. He hurried after Bart as fast as the unevenness of the ground would allow, anxious more for Argent's safety than his own.

  * * * *

  THE BROAD tunnel's walls had torches hammered into it here and there. Most burned brightly; one or two were dim.

  "Where are we, Bart?” The walls threw Peter's question back at him, mingled with the slow clopping of hooves.

  "It was once an underground river. This is only a tributary. The main channel will be much wider."

  "The same river that produced the limestone cave where the Earthlight hid the statue after the two Lords of Corruption threw it into the lake?” Peter couldn't keep the excitement from his voice, despite his fears for John.

  "Perhaps.” The tone of Bart's reply hinted his thoughts were elsewhere.

  The magnified sounds of the horses’ hooves stopped Jamie hearing the exchange between Peter and Bart. He couldn't banish his uneasy feeling they were moving steadily further from any hope of rescuing his twin. John was snatched from behind, not from in front, he reasoned; so surely they should be going back?

  Even as Jamie struggled to accept the intolerable possibility of never seeing his brother again, Peter brought Argent to a halt underneath one of the wall torches and turned his head. He looked straight at his friend and the compulsion of his glance instantly froze the questions framing themselves in Jamie's mind.

  Peter said nothing. What was there to say that would be of any help to Jamie? Instead, Jamie felt a strange sensation in his head, as though something was trying to soothe his troubled mind. The sensation spread from his head right down to his chest. Jamie recognized the power as the same that brought comfort to Peter beside the tombs of the Lady and Merlin.

  He gave his friend a watery smile. “Thanks, Peter,” he said, and the two continued down the tunnel side by side between their horses.

  Neither spoke. Peter sent his mind probing forward. He received vague images of the way ahead, and the extent of the tunnels filled him with dismay. They were clearly moving towards the main channel of the dried-up river, for each new tunnel was wider and in places higher than the previous one. It's just as well we're moving this way. If we were going the other way we'd need guidance, like those neon-like rocks. Or maybe only the right passages are lit, and we would have to look into each tunnel to work out which one was right.

  Peter forced himself to stop thinking about how they were going to find the way back and to concentrate on what was ahead. Eventually his mental probing came up against a blank wall—a deep impenetrable layer of rock. An underground river can't suddenly come to a stop. It must be that the roof caved in a long time ago.

  Even as he thought this, Peter's imagination could see it happening. He saw the first collapse of the roof into the water. Other falls followed immediately until the way was completely blocked. He could hear the roar of the dammed water as it turned back on itself in the darkness, found new channels on the surface and swept down them in a muddy torrent, engulfing everything in its path like an enraged, voracious monster.

  However, there was something else: a presence hovering above the water's turbulence. Peter strove to see it in the gray, wintry dawn of his vision. It was like a shimmer of white light spreading over the floodwaters. As he watched, the light settled on the water and slowly sank. As it sank, the churning waters calmed. The light became steadily dimmer as the muddy waters covered it. Then it vanished altogether and the waters subsided until in places there was only mud and broken vegetation, while in others the water continued flowing on the valley floors, creating a new river on the surface.

  As the vision faded Peter again felt the presence—the shimmering light, now faintly green, and somehow strangely grown in its awesome power, although no brighter or larger than before. He experienced brief awareness of an entity older than the earth itself, but was instantly denied more knowledge. This time the light was underground, and somewhere ahead. What is it? he wondered, probing. Gently it denied him its identity. His heart gave a jerk and started thumping. Whatever it is, maybe it can help us get John back.

  Unconsciously he increased his pace. They seemed to walk for hours and every branching of the way took them into a wider tunnel. It wasn't long before Peter saw the tunnels more as vast caves than channels down which a river once coursed. The way became so wide they were all walking abreast—three humans, four horses and a dog—with plenty of room for each to dodge anything in the way.

  There were many deep dips in the floor that they had to skirt. Now and then they came to piles of rubble where gradual subsidence had occurred. The first time they saw this the boys looked at it nervously.

  "Don't worry. We're perfectly safe. That was a long time ago,” Bart said, speaking into their minds.

  "What's above us?” Peter asked.

  "Mostly hills—parts of the forest—and high farmland,” Bart said, and they returned to their own thoughts.

  At every new tunnel Peter reached forward with his mind searching for the fall that had set the underground river on another course. At last his senses told him the next tunnel was the one, and the end of the journey. They entered it, only to find there were no torches on the walls to light the way. An eerie greenish glow appeared in the distance, spreading even as they watched until it lit up part of the walls, showing a section of the great fall that had caused this immense honeycomb of tunnels.

  Unable to see the way clearly over the uneven ground, they brought their horses to a halt. The horses stood patiently, quietly. They might have been out in the daylight instead of facing something outside their experience, and therefore potentially alarming. The Earthlight trio advanced slowly into the darkness. Peter walked in the center. Oblivious to any dips that might have sent them sprawling, they moved as though in a trance. All three kept their eyes on the ever-shifting light at the tunnel's end.

  The closer they came to the light the more immense it seemed. By the time they were w
ithin six meters of it Peter realized it stretched way above their heads and was even wider than it was high. Also, surely something moved within the light—or maybe it was the light itself that moved. But he still felt a thrill of shock when a voice addressed them.

  "Welcome, my children.” The voice sounded unnatural, disembodied, akin to how a Christian might imagine the voice of God would sound.

  "Who are you?” Jamie asked boldly and added quickly, “Can you get John back for us?"

  Peter was the only one who recognized the entity embodied within the light.

  "It's the Voice of the Earthlight itself,” he whispered in awe.

  "No, Jamie,” the voice replied quietly in answer to Jamie's question. “I am only a voice. I have no power. Only the First Chosen has the power to reclaim your brother. The Earthlight itself is occupied in assisting the Sleepers. I am here merely to bring a message to the First Chosen.” The voice paused. Tensely, Peter strained towards it. The shifting nucleus of the light seemed to direct itself straight at him. Its words, when it addressed him, rang through the tunnels like a proclamation. “Simon Peter, Son of Arthur, you must face the Evil One on your own. If you remember only one thing—that you will win the battle—all will be well. You must have complete faith in yourself. Any doubt that creeps into your mind will lessen your chances—may actually bring about your own downfall—and consequently the downfall of the Earthlight and the entire human race."

  Peter swallowed hard. Before he could find his voice, Bart spoke for him.

  "That's a terrible responsibility to lay upon a child,” he protested in horror. “Why can't I do it?"

  "How?” the voice asked simply.

  Bart opened his mouth to reply and stood like a fish out of water, obviously unable to think of any way in which he could challenge the Evil One on his own.

  "You haven't the power,” Peter said. “You can't use the Obsidian Orb. I'm the only one—apart from Merlin—who can.” There was no pride or arrogance in his voice. He was simply stating the truth. “And the Obsidian Orb will be needed. It's the only source of power we have."

  "But on your own?” Bart turned his gaze from the light to Peter. His face was the picture of frustration, his eyes empty pools of despair. At the set expression on Peter's own face he broke off and turned back to the light. He attempted another protest. “I don't think Peter realizes what he will be facing."

  "I think he knows very well. He knows a nightmare only has to be faced to be revealed for what it really is."

  "But the Evil One isn't just a bad dream!"

  "No. He's very real, while at the same time being the sum total of all the living nightmares humans have ever experienced—all the evil they have created, either deliberately or unwittingly. But just as nightmares can be dispelled, Evil can also be vanquished, although that task is much harder. The First Chosen has only to believe he can make the Evil One return John to you and all the power he needs will be his."

  "Why did the Power of Obsidian tell me neither the left nor right fork would lead us into danger?” Peter demanded. “We walked right into it."

  "The Forest of the Earthlight will always be dangerous for you now, for neither the Earthlight nor the Essence of Obsidian can keep the Evil One and his Lords of Corruption out of it. But you didn't walk into danger—you fled from it—and either path would have served the purpose.” There was a brief pause. “Don't stay away from the forest because it is dangerous, however. The Earthlight needs your presence here as often as you can come.” The area of green light dimmed. “Go now. Face your ordeal, First Chosen, with the sure knowledge that you will succeed."

  The light seemed to swallow itself; the edges started fading, while the center grew brighter. Then, with one blinding flash, it disappeared, leaving them in darkness. They stood in the suddenly suffocating dark, eyes wide with the effort to see, minds desperately willing the light to return. As though conjured up by the mere force of their wills, light started to return, first as a mere pinpoint and then growing until it was bright enough for them to see each other.

  However, although greenish in color, it wasn't the same light that had contained the Voice of the Earthlight. This light came from the wall directly in front of them. Before the others could move, Peter strode forward. The light was about a foot above his head. Although smaller, it looked like one of the stones that had shown them the way at the beginning of their journey. However, instead of pulsing off and on, its light remained steady. Peter reached up and laid both hands on the stone. It was almost as cold as ice. He grasped it firmly and pulled. It wasn't heavy and came away easily. He stepped back quickly, half expecting stones above the one he had taken to cascade on top of him.

  But nothing happened—or it seemed nothing happened. When Peter turned to face the others, however, they weren't there. Even Dreyfus had disappeared. Ice raced through his bloodstream as he realized he hadn't seen his dog for some time. After taking note that Dreyfus was having no trouble negotiating the pitfalls in the floor, he had concentrated his energy on his own and Argent's safety.

  Instinctively he opened his mouth to call his friends, then shut it as he realized something else was wrong. He was no longer standing in the cavern where the Voice of the Earthlight had spoken. There was a lot more rubble on the floor of this cave, whose size and shape seemed somehow different, although Peter couldn't say in what way.

  He turned back to the wall from which he had—or thought he had—taken the stone and examined the rocky surface about a foot above his head. There was no gap that he could see. In fact, nothing seemed to have been disturbed. The incredible truth burst upon him. He must be on the other side of the fall.

  A feeling of panic overwhelmed him. He took a deep breath. “Bart! Jamie!"

  The walls flung his shout back at him with such force it sent currents of alarm thrilling through him. Along with the dying echoes came the rattling sound of falling stones. One or two hit him on the shoulder, causing him to cry out with the suddenness of the sharp pain. Better keep quiet, he told himself, gently fingering his bruised shoulder. He listened intently for any answering shout, but heard only dead, suffocating silence.

  Peter battened down the rising tide of panic and held up the rocklight, as he now called it, and looked around. Some of the cave-ins had left large piles of boulders and the whole floor was strewn with stray pieces of rock, making its rippling surface even more hazardous. It was a place, Peter decided, where it was best to have both hands free. However, he needed at least one hand to hold the rocklight.

  "Essence of Obsidian, can you help me? Can you hold the light, for instance?"

  He felt the familiar throbbing of the Power of Obsidian surround him.

  "It isn't a light,” the Essence of Obsidian replied, “and I can't hold it because I don't have hands. I'm not a physical being, remember. But what I can do for you is contain you in what you once called the crystal ball. You will be able to walk through these caverns with the same ease as you walked through the world of the witch Morgause."

  "Do you have to remind me of that?” Peter said, mentally wincing.

  "Sorry.” The Power of Obsidian's answer was rather automatic. The pulsing changed rhythm, and then Peter was inside the bubble and moving swiftly through the cavern. Instead of concentrating on where he placed his feet, he was able to hold the rocklight up and look around.

  It was hardly an inspiring sight that met his gaze. He couldn't help comparing the dark rock walls, ceiling and floor with the beauty of the limestone cave. This, he felt, was more like the sort of place he associated with the Evil One and his Lords of Corruption than with the Earthlight. There were several openings of different sizes on both walls. When he approached them he noticed they all sloped downwards, some rather sharply. He then realized he'd been moving steadily uphill since leaving the rock-fall that blocked off this part of the cave system from the area where he left Bart and Jamie.

  "I don't think we have time to explore,” the Power of Obsidian said as P
eter stood at the entrance to one of the steeper, narrower tunnels.

  "What are we looking for?” Peter asked, moving away.

  "You'll know when we find it."

  Peter had to be content with this. Fortunately he found he could cover the ground quickly inside the protective bubble that the Spirit of Obsidian placed around him. Without it he would have been exhausted when they finally reached the end of their journey. He had plenty of time to speculate on what he would find; but the journey ended with an abruptness he could never have anticipated. He hurried round a bend and almost ran into a wall—a smooth, black wall.

  "It's obsidian!” he cried aloud, placing the palm of his left hand on the surface while he held the rocklight close to the wall. The surface was almost as glass-smooth as the Obsidian Orb itself but it seemed to swallow all the light. The rocklight's glow touched the wall, but Peter was too preoccupied to notice. “The fortress Sujad built when he was Lord of Obsidian must be on the other side."

  Peter barely had time to digest this fact before an ominous rumbling filled the caverns, sending his heart pounding. He felt the obsidian under his hand move slightly and stepped back quickly. However, the wall of obsidian didn't collapse on top of him as he half-expected. Instead, a section of it swung away from him like a door on vigorously protesting hinges. He took a deep breath to still the violent beating of his heart and swiftly stepped through the opening. The door ground shut behind him before he could do anything to stop it. He held the rocklight up to the wall and examined where the door should have been. There was nothing there—no handle, no lock and not even an outline where the door had been.

  Sensing the Power of Obsidian was about to urge him to hurry, Peter turned away from the wall and held the rocklight up to inspect his new surroundings. To his dismay, he found the light was barely strong enough to allow him to move without banging into anything. But at least he knew where he was—in the dungeons of Sujad the Great's castle.

  He held the rocklight at arm's length and moved further into the vast system of chambers that formed part of the castle's foundations. It was like trying to find the way through a maze and it would have been impossible for him without his ability to probe ahead with his mind—something he was finding increasingly easier to do. It was second-nature to him now. Instinctively he moved from chamber to chamber. Not once did he have to retrace his steps.