Voyage of the Fox Rider
Page 41
Bokar and Aravan and the main column came to the junction, Bokar hand-signalling a halt, swiftly passed back down chain. His wary eyes glancing at the choices before them, at last Bokar signalled Brekka and Dokan to scout the left-hand passage, while the main body waited at the junction.
Before they could move, the shadow dropped away from Jinnarin and Rux, and she vigorously signalled that Brekka and Dokan should remain here while she and Rux explored the dimly lit passage. Without awaiting an answer, again darkness clotted about her, and the tiny cluster of shadow slunk off up the narrow way.
Bokar reached out as if to stop her, but Aravan grasped the armsmaster by the shoulder and held him back, murmuring. “She is right, Bokar. None are better suited to the task.”
Grinding his teeth, Bokar turned to Brekka and Dokan and signalled them to go down the main passage ahead. The remainder of the force stood fast, flinty eyes searching the darkness, seeking foe, while a Pysk and a fox slipped down a dimly lit fissure toward the source of light.
The floor of the cleft gradually rose as Jinnarin and Rux went onward, the light ahead slowly brightening as they neared the source. Quietly Rux moved, and Jinnarin held her bow in readiness, a tiny arrow nocked. The walls crookedly shifted this way and that, but mainly they hewed to a south-bearing course, back toward the rim of the isle, or so Jinnarin judged. The passage itself remained narrow, shrinking to a width of two feet in places, expanding out to no more than five feet at others. A faint sprinkling of dust covered the floor, and she looked for tracks, finding none, although from the scuff marks here and there it was clear that the route was used.
They had travelled some four hundred feet, when Jinnarin murmured, “I smell the sea, Rux,” and on they went, coming at last to the end of the passage, where a narrow vertical slit a foot or so wide and some three feet high opened to the outside and daylight shone in. A scattering of debris lay on the floor. Jinnarin dismounted and glanced at it—fish scales and bones, a moldered fragment of bread, dried fruit peelings, the cracked bone of something not a fish, and other such—remains of meals eaten weeks past, or so she thought. Jinnarin stepped to the slit and clambered upon the sill and peered out. She could see the ocean to the horizon, entrapped hulks jutting up through the drifting weed here and there. Some ninety feet straight down the rough face of the sheer bluff the ocean boomed against the rock wall of the isle. But two hundred feet to the left at the base of the wall the waves rolled through the stone. That has to be the illusion covering the entrance to the cavern. She looked up, and just overhead a ledge jutted out. Yes, I am back on the outer perimeter of the isle. This must be a lookout post. She turned to remount Rux, and daylight sparkled off the crystalline walls of the passage, and she gasped. Is this where I stand during the dream? Her heart thudding, Jinnarin whirled and looked once more across the waters, but no black ship or giant spider came hurtling over the waves. Quelling her fears, Jinnarin leapt upon Rux and back down the narrow crevice they ran.
When Pysk and fox returned to the junction, Jinnarin discovered that the column had moved somewhat forward, for now Aylis and Alamar stood nearby. As the shadow came flitting from the crevice, the seeress whispered something to a Dwarf and then squatted down, intercepting fox and Pysk.
“Where are Bokar and Aravan?” Jinnarin asked.
“I have sent for them.”
“Oh, Aylis, perhaps I have discovered the place where we stand in the dream and look out over the sea.”
“It is there?” asked Aylis, gesturing at the slot.
“Not as it is in the dream—”
In that moment, Aravan and Bokar stepped to the pair.
“Bokar, Aravan,” said Jinnarin softly, “the cleft leads to a sentry post, a narrow slot just under the ledge, above and to the left—to the west—of the entrance.”
“Do any other passages split off?” asked Bokar.
“No.”
“Jinnarin,” whispered Aylis, “next time, before darting off, wait until I have done a casting.”
“A casting?”
“Yes. When I focus, I can detect the presence of
“But Aravan’s blue stone—”
Alamar hissed, “It detects Foul Folk for the most part, Pysk. Some foe it does not sense at all.”
“Neither does it tell direction,” added Aravan, “only near or far.”
Bokar tugged on his red beard. “Even so, Lady Aylis, I do not want you to be in the vanguard, nor Mage Alamar—”
“Bah, Dwarf,” growled Alamar. “We can take care of ourselves.”
Aylis laid a hand on her father’s arm to quell him. “Father, Bokar is right—the vanguard is a place for warriors.” She turned to the armsmaster. “Even so, Bokar, when we come to passages, let me do a casting before you send scouts in.”
Bokar gave a short sharp nod, then said, “Just ahead, Lady Aylis, Brekka and Dokan have discovered another passage splitting off to the right.”
“I’ll be right back, Father,” murmured Aylis, stepping swiftly away before he could volunteer to go with her. Jinnarin on Rux followed on her heels, with Aravan and Bokar coming after.
They trod along the curve, and some fifty feet down the passageway they came to the juncture, a wide corridor sheering off at a right angle to the main artery. Here Rux snorted, trying in vain to clear his nostrils of the stench emanating from this cavern way.
“’Ware,” hissed Jinnarin, “Rux likes this not.”
Bokar signalled Dwarves with crossbows to stand ready. Then he turned to Aylis and whispered, “My Lady, from the echoes, to the Châkka it resounds as would a single chamber a distance within.” Aylis nodded and prepared to step before the dark opening.
With crossbows warding her, Aylis murmured, “Patefac vitam patibilem,” and peered down the hallway, her brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment she relaxed and stepped back. “Nothing,” she whispered.
“Ha!” hissed Alamar. Jinnarin whirled about. The eld Mage had come up behind them. “No
“I know that, Mage,” sissed Bokar. “Brekka, Dokan…” the armsmaster paused, looking down at the cluster of shadow that was Jinnarin and Rux. Finally he added, “…and Lady Jinnarin. You three make a quick trip in and back. Be wary, for it is as Mage Alamar says, there yet may be life within.”
Into the passage the scouts went, Jinnarin in the lead, Rux reluctantly forging into the stench. The passage curved slightly to the left and then back to the right, and at this second curve, Brekka and Dokan each unshuttered a Dwarven lantern, the phosphorescent glow pressing back a darkness too deep for even their Châkka eyes, though Jinnarin and Rux could yet see.
They came into a large chamber filled with a stench that Pysk and Dwarf alike nearly gagged upon. And scattered across the floor were huge pallets. “Trolls!” hissed Brekka, his face grim in the gleam of the lantern. “This is a Troll sleeping chamber.”
Jinnarin shuddered. She had never seen a Troll, but she had heard of them. Farrix said that they were huge—twelve to fourteen feet tall—with enormous strength and endless endurance. Like monstrous goblins they were, but dull-witted. They had pointed teeth and bat-wing ears and glaring red eyes, and stonelike hides, greenish and scaled. And some people called them Ogrus while others called them—
“Count the beds,” sissed Dokan, breaking into Jinnarin’s thoughts. “We need know the threat.”
Rapidly they circled the room. “I add up twenty-eight,” gritted Dokan, Brekka and Jinnarin agreeing.
Brekka’s gaze swept the chamber. “I see no other entrances and exits.”
“Just the passage we came down,” concurred Dokan.
“Let’s go,” urged Jinnarin. “Rux would leave now.”
Swiftly, they made their way back to the main corridor.
“It is a vacant Troll chamber,” growled Dokan. “It sleeps twenty-eight.”
“Elwydd!” exclaimed Bokar. “Twenty-eight?”
The armsmaster looked in alarm at Aravan. “We cannot hope to take on such foe, Captain. We would be hard-pressed to defeat just one.”
Aravan’s hand strayed to the chill amulet at his throat. “Let us hope that we do not meet even one, Bokar. Yet Troll or no, we must press on, for now I am certain that we stride through Durlok’s very own strongholt, and somewhere herein lies the heart of an evil that we must seek out and destroy.”
A small cluster of shadow added, “The key to finding Farrix must lie within as well.”
A grim look came into Bokar’s eye. Turning to Brekka and Dokan…and Jinnarin, “Let us go forward then,” he gritted, signing for the scouts to take the point.
Another hundred feet they went, the passage sloping upward and continuing to curve gently to the right, and they came to a passageway angling sharply leftward. Again Aylis cast a spell, and once more found no
Still the main corridor continued to slope up and curve to the right, the echoes of the ocean fading as they went. And still Aravan’s amulet continued to gather cold unto itself as they pressed onward, denoting that they drew nearer to peril.
Some four hundred fifty feet onward, again they came to a junction, one corridor bearing left and the other straight ahead. Both passages were level, but as to which was the main route, they could not say. A faint bluish light, however, shone down the corridor to the left.
“Let me hold your amulet, Aravan,” whispered Aylis.
Aravan slipped the thong over his head and handed the stone to Aylis. “Unde?” she murmured, closing her eyes. Slowly she turned, until she was facing down the left passage. Opening her eyes, she handed the amulet back to Aravan. “It comes from that passage,” she said, pointing.
“How about the right hand way?” muttered Bokar. “I would rather not go into peril without knowing what lies behind us.”
Now Aylis faced the dark passage. “Patefac vitam patibilem,” she murmured, then shook her head. “No
Bokar jerked his head at Brekka and Dokan, gesturing at Jinnarin’s clump of shadow as well, and down the right-hand corridor sped the scouts.
As they approached they could hear the sound of running water, and they came into a large gathering hall, where there were tables and benches sized to fit Trolls as well as Rucha and Loka. Rotten bits of food were scattered about, and along one wall stood a trough and water trickled out from the stone wall to fill it, the overflow spilling down through a crack in the floor. “A mess hall,” growled Brekka.
Two passageways split out from the back of this huge chamber, a small one to the right and down, a larger one level and left. While Dokan explored the left-hand way, Brekka and Jinnarin and Rux sped down the small corridor to the right. As they went down, Jinnarin could hear the sound of waves lapping against stone. They came to another split, a barred door standing ajar to the left, an open passage to the right. Glancing at Brekka, down the right-hand way they sped, coming into a chamber, and a stench was mingled with the smell of the sea. A filth-laden crevice jagged across the floor, feces lining the lip, and they could hear the ocean swashing far below. “Ugh,” muttered Brekka, “this is a Grg privy.”
Back to the barred doorway they went, and inside they found another chamber, this one with rotted straw pallets scattered about. A thin, feces-lined crevice jagged through this floor, too, the sound of waves splashing in its depths. Jinnarin looked at Brekka. “Prisoners, captives, most likely were kept here,” he growled, jerking his head back toward the barred door.
Back to the gathering hall they went, telling Dokan what they had found. For his part, Dokan jerked a thumb toward the way he had explored. “A cookery,” he growled. “Vent cracks up into the stone above.”
Brekka threw the shutter on his lantern wide and looked upward. The kwarc-laden ceiling also showed vent cracks overhead. “Ha. I suspect it is the same throughout, the swash of the lagoon acting as a great pump to exchange the air.”
Back to the waiting party they fared, reporting all to Bokar. The armsmaster nodded and then turned to Aravan and gestured at the left-hand corridor, faint blue light shining down the glittering way. “Well, Captain, let us go see what evil it is your stone detects.”
Into the passage they went, each treading silently, Brekka and Dokan and a moving cluster of shadow in the lead, the sound of the ocean all but lost in the darkness behind. A hundred feet they fared, passing a large area on the left filled with crates and bales and barrels. “Supplies,” hissed Brekka, as they went past. Another hundred fifty feet they fared, the light ahead growing brighter, and once again they passed a cache of goods stowed in a hollow on the left. Now they came toward an opening into a chamber from which the bluish light glowed. Brekka stopped them a few paces away and quietly breathed, “Take care, for this is not daylight we see, nor do I think it is lantern light, but something else altogether.”
Jinnarin whispered. “It looks like a casting of magelight, like Alamar makes.”
A soft voice whispered right behind. It was Aravan crept upon them unnoticed in his Elven stealth. “’Ware. My stone is icy chill. I ween the peril lies within.”
Behind came the force of Châkka, and with them, Aylis.
Aravan looked at her then jerked his head toward the lighted chamber. “Patefac vitam patibilem,” she muttered, then nodded, whispering, “Take care, there is
“I will see,” hissed Jinnarin, and the scant cluster of shadow crept toward the opening.
With her heart pounding, Jinnarin and Rux eased forward, and slowly a side of the chamber came into view. Jinnarin gasped in astonishment, for the ceiling and walls were made up completely of foot-wide, yard-long shafts of crystal—six-sided, blunt-pointed steles closely packed and jutting out at random angles into the room. The uneven floor was transparent crystal as well, as if there once had been huge crystals jutting up here, too, but ones that had been broken away and the surface crudely adzed. And all was permeated with a blue light that seemed to emanate from the very air. And as Rux crept closer, a rune slowly came into Jinnarin’s view, its form hacked in the floor, the shape somehow jarring to the senses, almost as if it were writhing obscenely even though it was fixed in rough crystal.
Rux took an additional step or two, and more corrupt runes slid into view and caught at her eyes, the scribings malignant in their very shapes. Now she could see that to the left the floor jagged down toward the unseen center of the room.
Jinnarin glanced back over her shoulder. Behind crept Dokan and Brekka, while all the others waited.
With her heart hammering in her breast, Jinnarin turned back toward the crystalline room and urged Rux forward, the fox stepping to the doorway. Again Jinnarin caught her breath, for the chamber was huge, circular, fully two hundred feet across and lined with great sparkling crystals. The rough-cut floor formed a large, shallow hollow, and Jinnarin could now see down to the center where on a raised dais, or perhaps an altar, lay—
“Farrix!” she shrieked, the shadow dropping away from her and Rux, fox and Pysk now standing revealed. “Farrix!” she cried again, and into the room she plunged.
CHAPTER 29
The Crystal Chamber
Spring, 1E9575
[The Present]
Kruk!” spat Brekka, leaping toward the doorway after Jinnarin, Dokan on his heels, crossbows up and ready, while through the shadow behind came Aravan running, with Bokar and the warband flying after.
Into the cryst
al chamber they poured, spreading wide, eyes darting this way and that, seeking foe. Following Jinnarin, Brekka and Dokan dashed down across the rough-cut crystal floor and toward the central dais, where Pysk and fox had gotten to, Rux just then leaping upon the altar, a great crystal block.
Jinnarin flung herself from Rux’s back and down to her knees at Farrix’s side, crying out his name. But Farrix moved not, the black-haired, leather-clad Pysk lying motionless on his back, and his chest did not stir with the breath of life. Dread filling her soul, Jinnarin pressed her ear to Farrix’s breast, listening for a heartbeat, finding none. And she rocked back on her knees and raised her face to the ceiling and keened a silent wail, her face twisted into grief beyond measure. And Rux whined and turned about in indecision, and bared his teeth and growled as others drew near.
Brekka and Dokan had come to the central dais, as well as Aravan, and they took a defensive stance about the altar. And still Dwarves poured inward through the doorway.
Bokar reached Aravan’s flank. “Another opening,” he barked, pointing up to the side of the chamber, where, a third of the way around the room, a slit of a doorway yawned pitch-dark along the crystal wall. The armsmaster turned to Aravan. “What says your amulet, Captain?”
“It is deadly chill—peril is nigh,” answered Aravan, his eyes seeking foe, finding none.
“Kelek!” Bokar called his second in command.
As Kelek made his way down to Bokar, Aylis and Alamar entered the crystalline room, the elder pausing at the runes scribed in the transparent stone floor. “Gyphon!” he hissed, then looked up and about. “This is a temple to Gyphon.”
Now all the Dwarves had come into the chamber, followed by the Men, weapons clutched in white-knuckled hands…all but Jatu’s. And they spread across the crystalline stone glittering in the blue light.
Aravan motioned Jatu unto him, the black Man striding down into the shallow hollow, Aylis at his side. When they came to the crystal block, both looked upon Jinnarin and sorrow flooded their eyes. Jatu reached out to Jinnarin in her agony, but then withdrew his hand, for now was not the time to comfort the grieving—that would come later. Tears ran freely down Aylis’s face, the seeress weeping, yet she too knew that solace would have to wait.