by Dan McGirt
“Absolutely,” I said. “But you go first.”
We dismounted, much to the relief of the horses, and led the animals up the broad stairway to the opening in the rock. This they did not like at all, shying back with nervous whinnies, rolling their eyes, and resisting the pull of the reins. We had to drag them into the black chamber beyond the broken doorway.
“Aren’t animals capable of detecting hidden dangers and supernatural perils that human senses cannot perceive?” I asked, dodging a flying hoof.
“No,” said Mercury.
“Are you sure about that? Because—”
“Quiet.”
Merc raised the flameless lantern. The room was square and vast, with smooth walls. The high ceiling was lost in inky shadows. The uneven floor, once finished with colorful tiles, was strewn with a litter of dead leaves, twigs, pebbles, bat guano, and a few scattered bones of indeterminate origin. Blasts of chilling wind moaned through the doorway and swirled around the chamber, but the rain did not penetrate. For the first time since morning we were not getting wetter. Even the nervous horses, clustered near the entrance, liked that.
Outside, in the distance, the beagles howled.
“We’ve got work to do,” said Merc. “Instinctive supernatural dread may deter the dogs from entering here, but we can’t count on it.”
“Didn’t you say that animals don’t—”
“Never mind what I said! Get the horses back from the door. I’ll do what I can to make this hole more defensible.”
The sisters and I tugged the reluctant horses deeper into the cave. Mercury swept past us, his dark green cloak billowing out behind him. He stood in the doorway, right at the edge of the lantern’s glow, with his back to us. He pushed his sleeves up and raised his arms. He wiggled his fingers, like a musician limbering up before he plays. He may have mumbled an incantation, but I could not hear.
What I did hear, from outside, was the ponderous sound of stone scraping stone, rock rattling against rock. A huge object flew into view, hurtling out of the darkness and into the light. It was a gigantic wet fragment of the shattered ancient door, summoned by Mercury’s wizardry. It hovered in the air before him. With a synchronized flick of his wrists, Merc directed the piece to the left. It settled to the floor, partially obstructing the doorway.
Another large piece appeared. Merc sent it to the right. More and more stones bounced and hovered into view. Merc methodically assembled them into a makeshift wall. The construction grew higher and higher until it reached almost to the top of the cavern mouth, where the entranceway narrowed to a rough arch. A small-framed and agile person might, with some effort, clamber to the top and crawl through the remaining gap, but it would not be easy.
“That was amazing!” I said. In Offal I had seen him levitate several items of furniture, which seemed impressive at the time. But this was a far more astounding feat, moving many tons of earth and rock with nothing but his mind.
Mercury shrugged. “It should hold the pack at bay. Beagles are not the most agile climbers. If any do make it over the barrier, we can pick them off one or two at a time.”
“You’ve sealed us inside,” said Sapphrina.
“That was the idea,” said Merc.
“How do we get out?” asked Rubis.
“I’ll move the rocks in the morning. Or we’ll find an alternate exit.”
“If there is an alternate exit tomorrow, that means there is an alternate entrance tonight,” said Sapphrina.
“So?” said Mercury.
“So your ‘deadly feral beagles’ might find it,” said Rubis.
“You’re cheeky lasses, aren’t you?” said Merc sourly. “I was hiding out in caves before the lot of you were even born. We’ll be fine. If your ladyships want to go explore the inner depths, please, by all means, proceed. But I’m for dinner and rest. The morning will be here all too soon, and we’ve many more hard miles ahead.”
Giving Merc an exasperated double glare, the twins went to tend the horses.
“Merc, don’t you think we should check for other entrances?” I said.
“Obviously!” snapped Mercury. “Do you think I’ve survived years on the road as a fugitive from the Dark Magic Society by not checking my surroundings? Do you honestly think I need advice from socialites and turnip farmers on how to go about spending the night in a shadow-haunted ancient cavern at the end of an unmarked trail in the wilderness? Have you any tips on proper spellcasting too?”
“No,” I said, taken aback by this outburst. “I was only asking.”
“I’m doing my best to keep you three alive. You make me wonder why I bother!”
“Sorry, Merc. We’re all tired and wet and scared. Well, you’re obviously not scared. Except of the beagles, which is—hey! You’re not wet anymore! How are your clothes dry?”
“Because I’m out of the rain.”
“Me too, but I’m still soaked!”
“My garments are enchanted. They’re also quick-drying.”
“Lucky you.” Water sloshed out of my boots with every step. Sapphrina and Rubis were almost blue with chills and chattering teeth.
“It is passing cold in this cave,” said Rubis.
“We need a fire,” said Sapphrina.
“Too dangerous,” said Merc. “A fire would reveal our location.”
“To whom?” demanded Sapphrina. “We’re sealed in a cave!”
“A cold cave,” said Rubis.
“We haven’t any wood,” said Mercury.
“Really?” said Sapphrina. “You have no supply of firewood tucked away in the folds of that magic cloak of yours?”
“Er...well,” said Merc.
“You do!” said Rubis. “You so do! Out with it!”
“It is for emergencies,” said Merc.
“We are soaked to the bone and freezing,” said Sapphrina. “Emergency enough.”
“We need fire,” said Rubis.
“There is no ventilation,” said Mercury. “The smoke would overcome us.”
“Merc, this is a huge cavern,” I said. “Smoke won’t be a problem.”
“It might.”
“You’re not withholding fire because you’re still irked with us, are you?”
“What? No!”
“Because that would be more than petty.”
“Hmph,” said Merc.
He reached into the folds of his enchanted cloak and produced a bound bundle of kindling and split logs. I built the fire on a level spot near the center of the cavern. Merc lit it with a quick jet of flame from his index finger. We gathered around, enjoying the heat after a long, cold, wet, exhausting day.
Mercury produced a small kettle, filled it with rainwater, and prepared a packet of powdered soup—cream of pheasant. I misliked these transmuted meals, preferring honest Darnkish food so long as it lasted, but we were down to our last loaf of turnip bread, which the others generously allowed me to consume.
After the meal, we made ready for bed. Sapphrina and Rubis refilled the kettle, peeled off their wet tunics, and proceeded to give each other a wholly gratuitous hot sponge bath. Merc prowled to the back of the cavern, checking for hidden dangers.
I set about erecting a tent for the twins. Although we had a solid stone roof over our heads, the tent would provide extra warmth in the chilly cave. I did my best not to peek at the sisters, but did hit my thumb twice while hammering the tent pegs.
“Will you have a turn, Jason?” purred Rubis.
“The water is still hot,” said Sapphrina.
“No, thank you,” I said, cheeks burning red.
The sisters giggled and squirmed into the tiny tent, each pausing to give me a kiss on the cheek. My face turned redder still.
“Good night, Jason!” called Sapphrina.
“Sweet dreams!” said Rubis.
“And to you both,” I said.
I turned and was startled to see Mercury standing right beside me.
“I didn’t hear you approach,” I said.
> “You weren’t meant to,” said the wizard. “If you’ve tucked in the tartlets”
“We can hear you, wizard!” said Sapphrina.
“—then I must show you what I’ve found.”
Holding the lantern before him, Mercury led me deeper into the cavern.
“This is a natural cavern expanded and finished by artisans,” he said.
“To what end? It’s not a mine.”
“No. It’s a tomb.”
“A tomb? A tomb for whom?”
“Good question. This narrow arched passageway—mind your head, low ceiling—leads to what I believe is the burial chamber.”
We passed into a long, rectangular room with a vaulted ceiling about fifteen feet high. Scattered about the floor, in a thick layer of dust, were bits of rotted wood, broken pieces of clay pots, and some tattered, moldering scraps of cloth, drained of all color by the ages. At the far end, on the narrow wall facing the entrance, was a rune-inscribed stone bier. Upon it lay nothing at all.
“Where is the body?” I asked.
“Gone,” said Merc, crossing the room briskly. “Most likely looted centuries ago.” He waved his free hand dismissively. “That is the way of such things. Just because you’re buried with your favorite possessions doesn’t mean you get to keep them. But look at this.”
He held the lantern high to reveal a circular bas-relief carved into the wall above the bier. It depicted a small band of warriors on a hilltop, surrounded by an attacking army of demonic figures. One of the warriors, likely their captain, held a sword in one hand and sounded a horn with the other. Beside him was another fighter whose flaming sword shot forth beams of light that the demons did not seem to like. Above the brave band loomed a massive fire-breathing dragon and various other flying monsters. The outlook was not good for the guys on the hill. The demons on the ground were as blades of grass and their foes in the air blotted out the sun like a cloud of locusts.
Forming a ring-like border around this scene were the images of nine riders, cloaked and hooded, with heads bowed. They were fighting men, for each bore a sword, but they did not appear to be participating in the battle, for none had weapon drawn. Around each rider’s neck hung a noose. One held a broken hourglass, another an inverted sundial.
“What does this mean?” I asked.
“I believe it references a battle from long ago,” said Mercury. “Note the peaked helmets of the warriors. An ancient style.”
“Which makes the tomb ancient too.”
“Maybe. The runes would suggest so. I don’t recognize them. But runes were never my best subject.”
“Do you think one of the pictured warriors was interred here?”
Merc shook his head. “I doubt it. If they lost that battle, the demons ate them. If they won, they wouldn’t need a tomb.”
“If you say.”
“This battle may not have occurred at all. Perhaps it depicts a legendary ancestor of whatever forgotten tribe or kingdom hacked this place out of the hill.” He shrugged. “I thought you would find it of interest, fledgling hero that you are. This, in any event, appears to be the extent of the place. No back doors. We should be safe enough for the night.”
At that moment, Sapphrina screamed.
Or maybe it was Rubis.
We rushed back to the front cavern. The fire was out, the ashes scattered. The tent was collapsed in a squirming heap. The much put-upon horses huddled at the cavern door. They stomped their feet and neighed their outrage, seeming to hold me personally responsible for the numerous afflictions they had suffered today. I ignored their reproachful equine glares and hurried toward the tent.
“Sapphrina! Rubis!”
“We are here!” said Sapphrina, her voice muffled by the folds of the tent.
I tugged at the stout canvas. A slender hand appeared. I took it. A mussed blonde head followed.
“Sapphrina!”
“Guess again.”
“Rubis, then!” I helped her writhe free of the crumpled tent. Sapphrina followed. Both threw their arms around my neck and clung tightly to me. The twins wore only wispy slips and sleeping robes in their preferred colors, but their trembling was not from mere chill.
“What happened?” I asked.
“A horrible shadow!” said Rubis, burying her tear-streaked face in my shoulder. “It snuffed out the fire.”
“An evil spirit,” said Sapphrina, nuzzling the hollow of my neck. “It passed through me like ice.”
“It’s gone now,” I said, hugging them close.
“That I doubt,” said Mercury.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
The wizard scoffed. “The fire is out? The tent is down? It was naught but a gust of wind and your poor tent-setting, Cosmo.”
“No, wizard,” said Sapphrina, locking eyes with Merc. “There is a malign presence in this cave. I felt so from the first.”
“And now you have entombed us with it,” added Rubis.
“I sense nothing of the sort,” said Mercury.
“Perhaps your senses are deficient,” said Sapphrina.
“Perhaps girlish fear has addled yours,” shot the wizard.
“Perhaps we are all on edge after a tense day,” I said.
“Perhaps we should leave this place,” said Rubis.
“Perhaps we should stop jumping at shadows,” said Merc.
“Perhaps it was more than a shadow,” said Sapphrina.
“Perhaps, we’ve nowhere else to go,” said Merc.
“Perhaps he has a point,” I said.
“Perhaps,” said Rubis.
“Perhaps,” said Sapphrina. “But the presence we felt was real.”
“Perhaps so,” conceded Merc.
“Perhaps we should rebuild the tent then,” I said.
“Perhaps you should let me do it this time,” said Merc.
“That might be for the best,” I agreed.
The twins settled into the reconstructed tent and were soon asleep, despite their unease. I bedded down beside the tent, with my sword in easy reach. My desire to stay alert for danger was at war with sheer fatigue. Restless, I tossed and turned, until I rolled over and found myself facing Mercury’s boot. I peered up at him.
“Sleep, Cosmo. I’ll stand watch until morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“Wizards can forego rest at need. It’s part of the training. Sleep.”
I yawned. “I’ll try.”
Thus reassured, I drifted into a fretful slumber.
The dogs woke me. The baying of the beagles filled the cave. Fortunately, the beagles themselves did not. I sat up and reached for my sword. Mercury was perched at the top of the jumble of rocks filling the entrance. He peered outside through a crack between the stones.
“They found us,” I said.
“At least half a thousand,” said the wizard. “All sitting and howling.”
“So I hear.” I pulled on my boots.
“It is odd that they do not approach the cavern mouth.”
“What did you say earlier about instinctive supernatural dread?”
“Exactly.”
“Then there is something supernatural here?”
“So it seems.”
“You owe the girls an apology.”
“Not likely. Residual energies that deter dogs and make horses nervous don’t prove an evil presence. My wizardly senses are attuned to such things and I still detect nothing of that nature.”
“Maybe what happened earlier was more of that scrying you mentioned yesterday?”
“Maybe. But for now these infernal hounds are the problem.”
“That noise could wake the dead,” I said.
“Let’s hope not.”
Sapphrina stuck her head out of the tent.
“Where is Rubis?” she asked.
“Er—in there with you?” I said.
“No,” said Sapphrina.
Merc hopped down from the wall. “Impossible. Neither of you has stirred in the last two
hours,” he said.
Sapphrina threw the flap fully open, revealing that she was the only one inside. “She’s not here. Unless your tent has some magical back room I’ve missed?”
“No,” said Mercury. “But that’s not a bad idea.”
“Rubis!” called Sapphrina.
No reply. Merc flared the lantern to full brightness, illuminating all but the most distant recesses of the cavern. Rubis was nowhere to be seen.
“Sister!” shouted Sapphrina. “Answer me!” Her distraught voice echoed off the walls. Hearing her, the feral beagles outside redoubled their frustrated bays.
“She would have to be a Nynja to get past me,” said Mercury. “I’ve been on watch the whole time.”
“Then not very watchful,” snapped Sapphrina.
“So she’s not a Nynja?” said Merc.
“We must find her!”
“I’ll take that as no,” said Merc.
“I’ll check the other chamber,” I said.
“I’m coming with you,” said Sapphrina.
“We’ll all go,” said Merc.
The burial chamber was as empty as we had left it.
“She couldn’t simply vanish!” I said.
“Actually,” said Merc. “There are any number of ways a person can simply vanish. Most of them unpleasant.”
“Not helpful,” I said.
“You saw nothing?” said Sapphrina, her voice rising.
“Nothing,” confirmed Merc.
“Then how do you explain this?” said Sapphrina. She pointed to a trail of footprints on the dusty floor. They were the tracks of a bare, slender foot. To make her point plain, Sapphrina pressed her own bare foot beside one of the prints. The impressions were identical.
“Strange,” said Mercury.
We followed Rubis’s apparent trail across the chamber and around the stone bier. The tracks ended at the far wall, beneath the bas-relief of the battle scene and somber riders.
“I believe Rubis passed through this wall,” said Mercury.
“How is that possible?” I said.
“There may be a hidden door.”
“Oh. Right.”
Sapphrina pressed herself against the wall and shouted, “Rubis! Sister! Can you hear me?”
“I can,” said Merc, covering his ears. “Stand clear, the both of you, and let me work.” He pushed his sleeves back and studied the wall minutely through his faintly glowing sunshades. “Yes, yes, I see it now. The faint outline of a door. The workmanship is flawless, the crack invisible to the unaided eye. Now how does it open?”