by Eric Ugland
“Pretty sure it’s down here with me,” I replied.
“Well that’s fucking useful, isn’t it?”
“Just a second,” I called back.
I got a long coil of rope out of the bag, and then a spear. I tied the rope to the spear, moved around until I felt like I had a good angle, and then threw the spear as hard as I could.
The angle was just a little off — I blame the rope weighing down the spear in an odd manner — so the spear went through the hole only tagging the edge a tiny bit and maybe coming closer to Tarryn than I’d intended.
“Fuck, Montana,” Tarryn shouted, “warn a guy before you do something like that.”
The spear didn’t clatter down though. It landed sideways across the hole.
I gave it a test.
The spear started to bend immediately.
“It’s creaking!” Tarryn said.
“I’m tying something on to the end,” I replied, “pull it up!”
“I’m ready when you are.”
I tied the Stick onto the rope, and gave it a quick tug.
Tarryn started pulling, and the Stick disappeared up above.
“What the fuck is this?” Tarryn called down.
“The Stick,” I said.
“A stick?”
“The stick.”
“Still have no idea—“
“Just push the button.”
“There’s a— oh. Oh! Stays in place!”
“You got it.”
He dropped the other end of the rope down, and I gave it a tug.
It held.
I started to climb.
Just off the ground, two feet hit my face, and knocked me on my ass off the rope.
Tarryn fell on top of me.
“We need to work on communication,” I said.
“That might be a good idea,” he replied, massaging his feet.
He got to his knees, did a little gesture with his hands, and eight globes of light grew out of the air. They spread out evenly around us. Tarryn then reached for the door. There was a handle to it, a big stone sort one.
With a twist of the big handle, the door opened and fell inward.
Because Tarryn isn’t an idiot, he wasn’t standing on the door at the time.
He bent over, and peeked through.
“Looks like there’s a change in angle.”
“Change of what angle?”
Tarryn reached into a pouch at his side and grabbed a piece of chalk. He drew on the wall. Which, I suppose, was at one point, the floor.
“This is where we are,” he said, pointing at the end of a long vertical line. “It used to be like this,” he drew a horizontal line. “At least, that’s my theory. On the other side of the door, there’s a small landing, and then the pathway goes up. Like this:” he drew a line at an angle.
“Ah,” I said.
“So I think this was the ground floor,” he said. “And the path goes up. Or it used to go up and now kind of goes down.”
“Do we go farther in?”
“That’s up to you.”
“I mean, curiosity. I want to know.”
“Then on we go.”
“Do we, I mean, does Amber know what’s going on?”
“Of course.”
“Well then, I think we’ve got a moral imperative to continue our exploration.”
“Besides,” Tarryn said, “if this place was cursed, we already set that shit free.”
“I’m hoping we found a treasury.”
“Keep hoping.”
I pushed past him and lowered myself into the next chamber. Just as Tarryn predicted, it was a landing before the angle of the hallways changed. For us, it’d be roughly downward, like that of a slide. Not like an action movie slide, though. More like a relaxed playground slide. Something where it was possible to control the speed of your descent.
The stone work in the new chamber was cleaner than on the outside. Like this was where the good workers plied their trade. The joints between the bricks were seamless, and the carvings were smooth. Everything in the place we’d seen so far seemed to have avoided any effects of the ravages of time. No dust on the horizontal surfaces. No spiderwebs in the corners. No sign of life whatsoever. Or death, even. Just the physical structure. The air was stale, but didn’t really have an odor of any kind. It was just sort of, you know, air.
I braced myself on the ramp down, and Tarryn dropped the rest of the rope.
“Oh,” I said, “that’s a pretty good idea.”
“Yeah, figured we might want to have a means of getting out of here as we progress deeper through a magical hole into the fucking ground.”
“You have a problem with holes?”
“No. I just prefer warm fleshy ones in clean bedrooms.”
“Okay, ew.”
He shook his head at me. “You bathe in blood and ichor, and that makes you say ew?”
“I say ew at blood and ichor as well.”
“Can we just not say ew?”
“Ew.”
“As you will it, your grace.”
Tarryn slid down the rope, and I helped him get situated on the ramp.
I grabbed another coil of rope from my Unfillable Knapsack.
“Maybe we only go as deep as we have rope,” I said.
“I thought that was already implied.”
“Yeah. Well. Okay.”
I tied the two ropes together, and we continued down. We held onto the rope and moved down controlled and slow-like. About fifty feet along, the hallway split nearly perfectly in two down the middle. Half the hall continued in the same direction, while the other half changed direction. If we went down on that tunnel, we’d be sliding on the ceiling of the new tunnel.
“Which way?” Tarryn asked.
I looked from one tunnel to the other, trying to ascertain a difference between the two. Tarryn sent the light orbs down each tunnel. They resumed full size not too far from where we were, and I had to wonder why bother? Why not have the tunnel divergence happen lower down, at the point where the landing had been? Why here?
“I think,” Tarryn said, “and this is all a bit wonky because everything seems to have be canted over, the ceiling tunnel, for lack of a better word, would be going down deeper into the structure if it were still upright.”
“Makes sense. So we have to wonder if the people who built this thing thought putting things up high is better than down low.”
“All depends on what this structure is supposed to be. Temple? Maybe higher is better. To reach the gods, you know?”
“It doesn’t seem like a temple,” I said. “There’s not enough space for worship. Or worshippers. And this,” I pointed to the rather precarious junction, “this is not a space built for lots of people to walk around. Or on. This is, I mean, was, I think, meant for either very few people or very few trips.”
“Or both.”
“Or both. Right. I think this place might be a burial chamber. Like it was a massive structure and, I mean, I don’t know why they built it like this, though. Maybe there was something in their belief system about the world turning or something?”
“Maybe. Does this theory tell you which way we should go?”
“Up. I think. That’d be where they put the body. Place of honor.”
“And by up you mean down, but that way.”
“Right. By up I mean down. This place.”
He smiled at me, and nodded.
We continued in the direction we were headed, going up. Except it was down. The direction formerly known as up, back when the temple or burial structure or whatever would have been right side up. But now up was known as down.
We had a long stretch of just sort of sliding and keeping one hand on the rope. We had to stop midway to tie another coil of rope on, and I wished I’d had the forethought to keep a running inventory of shit in the bag because I had no idea how many more coils of rope I had. Or what other climbing gear might be in the bag. Maybe we could tie all the clothes that
no longer fit me into a pseudo-rope to get us down a little farther. You know, should the need arise.
After five or so minutes of careful movement, we came to another of the weird junctions. Half the walkway just sort of faded away into another tunnel. This one was straight down, just like the initial entrance tunnel had been, which meant, had the structure been correctly oriented, it would have had a horizontal tunnel. A regular hallway. At the end of it, about two hundred or so feet, was a carved stone door, a whole lot like the door that had led us into the place initially.
“Okay,” Tarryn said, halting at the junction, “given your working theory, what’s this place?”
“Where they buried the top dude’s slaves? Or his wife? Or put his treasure?”
“Could be him.”
“Or her.”
“True.”
“But I don’t think so. Probably the guard. That’d make sense. The honor guard for the dead would be here, ready to intercept anyone who dared disturb the big cheese. No?”
“I’d buy that. Are we going down this hallway then?”
“I think we go to the top one. We go to the end of this main hallway, see where it leads.”
“You’re the boss.”
“I accept constructive criticism.”
“I mean, you don’t really. You listen to it, but it’s really rare you actually accept it.”
“I accept it—“
“”See, you’re doing it right now.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Exactly.”
“You know Tarryn, I think you need to have a snack. You’re hangry.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
I didn’t feel like explaining such a basic concept, so I just slid on down the hallway, continuing deeper underground, trying to forget the nearly infinite amount of weight ready to come crushing down on me at any moment.
It wasn’t much farther before we got to the end of the hallway. Or, at least, the end of the slide. It terminated at a short landing, which in this weird orientation meant we had a drop of about ten feet before there was a floor.
With a beautiful golden door in it.
I rolled the coil of rope onto the ‘floor’ and then dropped down myself. The workmanship at this last point was phenomenal. A level above anything we’d seen before. As Tarryn’s light balls floated closer, I saw glitters of jewels that had been embedded in the walls.
Tarryn whistled. “Nice.”
I nodded. “Whatever’s behind that door is going to be something impressive.”
“You still think we should open it?”
“I mean, we’ve come this far.”
“That’s really not a great reason to open a door you found in a ruin. Just because you got to it?”
“You have a reason not to?”
“Other than all the ones I’ve previously given you?”
“Yeah. A new one.”’
“No. It’s mostly still the worry there’s some horrific curse or a world-killing monster trapped behind that door.”
“What if the thing behind that door was the thing that was keeping the civilization alive which put this in place, and they made a mistake bottling it up?”
“What if the thing being behind that door is the reason this world exists at the present time?”
“Schrödinger’s apocalypse.”
“What?”
“It just means either could be true.”
“Ah. Yes. But do you really want to risk it?”
“I mean, you have other plans for the day?”
“I can’t quite tell if you’re a fool or a genius.”
“Yes?”
I reached and put my hand on the lock, but immediately I felt Tarryn’s touch on my arm.
“Maybe better to have a weapon out first?” he asked.
“Oh. True.”
I pulled my throwing axe off my belt and got it ready to go. Just in case.
The handle on the door turned with absolutely no issue. Like it was brand new.
Like the last door, it just fell inward.
I peered over.
It was not at all what I expected.
Chapter Forty-Two
I was looking at a bedroom. Well, I was looking at something that had, at one point, been a really fancy bedroom. Now it was a really fancy bedroom turned on its side. All the furniture had slid to the far wall. And the furniture was exquisite.
As with the door, everything looked to be made out of gold. There was a huge four-poster bed. Though post was kind of a misnomer — it was more like a four-column bed. I also saw a large chaise lounge sort of a couch thing, and something that might have been a vanity? I’ve never been the best at naming or identifying furniture. Thousands of episodes of The Price is Right, and I still have no idea what a dinette set is.
I heard a noise coming from the pile of furniture.
I dropped into the room, doing my best to avoid getting tangled in the maze of gold and luxurious fabrics. The nearly two-foot thick mattress had fallen over, and there seemed to be something trapped underneath.
“Get ready, Tarryn,” I called out.
“Holding a spell,” he replied.
I pulled the mattress back and to the side.
A young woman stared at me, her face flush and her eyes tear-stained.
“Keep holding,” I called out.
“What is it?”
“Not dangerous.”
The woman said something, a jumble of noises.
SMASHING! You’ve learned a new language. Hiqir.
“Uh,” I said in the new language, “are you, uh, do you need help?”
She blinked a few times, looking me up and down.
I did the same back at her.
She seemed human. Mostly. There was definitely something different about her — the proportions of her body were just a little off from what I thought were normal. Her torso was a little shorter, her legs a little longer. A bit more, well, she looked a lot like Amber the kitsune-girl, minus the upright ears and multiple tails. She had dark hair that was remarkably straight, big purple eyes, and a pert nose. Pretty. You know, if you could get over the fact that she had definitely been suffocating under the mattress.
Did I mention she was naked? Not like completely naked, but practically. A very thin and sheer, well, gown of sorts that was completely see-through. Impressively so.
“What has happened?” she asked. “And who are you?”
“Montana Coggeshall,” I replied.
She just looked really confused at my name.
“Duke of Coggeshall?” I offered. “Imperial duke of the Empire of Glaton?”
“Gla-ton?” she asked, sounding out the word like she’d never heard it. “Where is my Rogastinash?”
“Gesundheit.”
She didn’t get the joke, and I kind of felt bad making it.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Rogastinash.”
“Bless you.” Clearly I didn’t feel bad enough not to make it again. She didn’t get the joke the second time. Pity. “I don’t know what that is.”
“How do you— what has happened?”
“Do you know where you are?”
“I am in the Chamber of Eternity within the House of Eternity, waiting for my Rogastinash.”
“Okay, well, I can’t say I’ve heard of either one of those things, so I’m guessing I’m going to have to break some bad news to you.”
“What’s going on down there?” Tarryn called out.
“Just having a talk with, uh, someone.”
“What someone?”
“Give me a second here.”
“Should I come down there?”
“I think—“
“Who is that?” the girl asked.
Immediately I realized I was going to have to translate everything. I should have brought Lee with me. He was definitely better at dealing with the weird but non-violent stuff that happened.
“That’s a frie
nd of mine,” I said. “We found this, uh, ruin—“
“A ruin? Where?”
“We’re standing in it.”
“Why do you call it a ruin?”
“I’m not sure you’ve noticed what’s going on here, but, uh, this place is kind of, I mean, not exactly the way I think it’s supposed to be. I mean, isn’t the bed usually on the floor? Not the wall?”
“When the seal was broken, I fell this way. And then the mattress fell on top of me. It was suffocating me.”
“So this just happened?”
“Yes.”
“Tarryn,” I called back, “she says this just happened.”
“Not possible.”
“Maybe we can hold off calling our new friend a liar until she’s been conscious a day. Maybe two.”
“How would it have happened?”
“Magic? I don’t know.”
I was getting tired of holding the mattress, so I hauled it over and leaned it up against a wall.
“It is a girl,” Tarryn said.
“I told you,” I said.
The girl looked up as the orbs of light settled around the room. She peered at Tarryn.
“Your friend does not look like you,” she said. “Is he of the Vanutian?”
“Uh, Tarryn, any concept of the Vanutian?”
“None,” Tarryn replied.
“I’d say no,” I said to the girl. “Can we, maybe, continue this conversation when we aren’t underground?”
“We are not underground,” the girl replied.
“This thing wasn’t built underground?”
“This thing? You dare impugn the—“
“Listen, Toots, I’m not impugning anything. I’m telling you that we’re underground. And I’m not exactly keen on staying here past dark, considering what might come around upstairs at night. Okay?”
“What might come around after dark?”
“Goblins? Trolls?” I switched to Imperial Common. “What else have we seen around here, Tarryn?”
“Wyrms. Worms. Nasty things.”
“Right,” I said. “Nasty things.”
The girl just looked confused.
“What are goblins?” she asked.
“Things are getting a little weird here,” I said. “Not going to lie, I was not expecting, you know, this. Still, can we take this above ground?”
“We are built on the high peak, in the place of prominence before the gods,” the girl said. “I do not know how you can say we are—“