A Trail of Embers

by C A Kinnee

  Boom! The explosion rolled the ground under her. A torrent of debris tumbled down the wall burying the entrance to the cave. Meara struggled up and staggered to the pile of loose earth.

  “No, no, no,” she moaned, digging desperately through the dirt. “We have to find Kieran!”

  “You would send the Protector out in vain? We must go. The Protector trusted you.”

  “Trusted? You speak as if he’s dead.”

  “He trusts you to find our way while he finds his.”

  “But we can’t just leave him,” Meara argued. “He’s facing the Mage and his men with a bow and magic. You’ve seen Kieran’s magic.”

  The egg didn’t answer.

  “I can’t abandon him,” she protested. A giant fist squeezed her heart. She blinked back tears. “I will get you to your nest—after that—I’m going to find him.”

  “It will be as it will be,” the egg answered.

  Meara closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “That’s it, find peace,” the egg said in encouragement. “Now can we get moving?”

  Meara opened her eyes and looked around.

  “Kieran said to follow the symbols,” she answered slowly, moving away from the buried entrance to the cave.

  She lifted the light. The walls glittered back at her. The stone was highly polished black rock like the jewel Baylon had given Shay Lann on her last naming day. Kieran said the markers were easy to find. He’d called the triangle with three circles floating above it a tree. It was like no tree she had ever seen. She paced the length of the wall, hunting for the marker. The edge of her light touched a patch of duller black. She moved the light closer, reached out and laid a hand on the wall. The surface was rough beneath her fingers. She ran her hand over it and felt the outline of an etched mark.

  “Here, we found it.” She traced the tree with her finger, feeling the triangular trunk and the three round pits marking the free-floating foliage. Dropping her hands to her side, she stared at the perfectly etched mark. She felt sick and scared. There was no way she could do this, not without Kieran.

  “Egg, do you feel it?”

  “Feel what,” was the irritated reply.

  “The emptiness.”

  “Once it was not so empty. Once it held living people full of hope and fear—your ancestors. They passed this way.”

  She nodded slowly, considering the egg’s words. He was right. The old ones had travelled through the caves. Starved, exhausted and hunted, they had carried on.

  “Your fear is an echo of their terror,” the egg said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “It is not real. It’s the remnants of emotions so deep they’ve stained the rock with the depth of their feeling. Dragons know these things.”

  Meara considered the words. Was it true—her fear was an echo of that time? It didn’t matter. She had to start moving.

  “Shay Lann says to begin a journey, you must take a step,” she said. The ground beneath her feet was smooth and level. Thick dust dulled its sheen. The ancients had built the underground road to move their people to a safe place. That road now stretched in front of her.

  “Are we going to wait for something to happen, or will you finally move?”

  The sound of the egg’s voice in the quiet made her jump. “Hush, I am making sure it’s safe.”

  “I think you’re afraid. If I breathed fire, I could make you move.”

  “Any fire you possessed would be a smoky ember put out by a tiny puff of air,” she retorted.

  The egg huffed and fell silent.

  Meara settled the egg more comfortably in its pouch and stepped forward. As she walked, she searched for the markers—the carved trees that would lead her through the mountain. She hated to admit it but the egg was right—the sooner they passed through the caves, the sooner they could breathe fresh air.

  Meara soon discovered that each branching tree was exactly twenty paces from the one before. She lost herself in counting the steps between the markers.

  The passage began to dip. It slanted steeply downward, and she hugged the wall, sliding one foot in front of the other. Sometime, long ago, iron rails had been bolted to the walls. The years had eaten away many of the fasteners anchoring them to the stone. Meara wrapped her sweating fingers around the broken railing and inched her way along, terrified the fasteners would let go and send her plummeting down the slope.

  Slowly she crept deeper into the cave. The air grew heavier with each breath she took. She was drowning. The sound of rushing water filled her ears. An underground river? Was that possible? What if there was no way to cross? Did the drumming of the water hide other sounds? What if Kieran was wrong? What if she and the egg weren’t alone? She looked back over her shoulder and thought she heard the scrape of a careless step on the road behind her.

  “You imagine things,” the egg scoffed.

  “Do I?”

  She swung around and hoisted the light, straining to see beyond the edge of the beam.

  “I feel like something is hiding in the shadows.”

  “Bah, the caves are empty. There is nothing there,” the egg scolded.

  She shook her head. “You won’t admit you’re afraid. No one knows what these caves hold. Kieran said that he never reached this far.”

  The egg didn’t answer.

  Meara was used to being alone, but the loneliness of the alleys was different than the emptiness of the cave. In the walled town, there was always someone nearby whether she wanted them or not. Her steps lagged. She started making each one as quiet as possible, sure that somewhere behind her, something was following.

  “No. You’re wrong,” the egg argued.

  Meara didn’t answer. Was the thing behind her doing the same thing—making each step silent? The further she advanced, the more convinced she was that something lurked just beyond the rim of her light. She swung back and peered at the shadows, sweeping her light towards them. The beam sent the dark racing backwards. Meara tucked her chin deeper into her cloak and forced herself to move faster.

  “Egg, would you know if there was something behind us, something stalking us?”

  “Me?”

  “Of course, you. Could you tell?”

  “I don’t know. My senses aren’t fully formed.”

  “It’s all right. We’ll get through this. Tell me if you sense a change. Your senses are like another set of eyes.” They could do this. Together, they would make it through the cave. Hopefully they would do it without waking whatever lived there.

  The passage jogged to the left and ended without warning. Meara stopped and stared blankly at the rock in front of her. The shiny patina of black reflected the light. She lifted her light higher. No. It couldn’t be. A dead end—where had she gone wrong? She had followed the markers. This was the only way. Had she missed a branch in the wall of the cave? Had there been another opening disappearing into the darkness outside the reach of her light?

  She searched for the symbol. Only smooth black rock met her eyes. Bending, she swept the glowing beam along the floor of the cave. Relief flooded her. There it was, the familiar symbol etched into the wall at its base.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” The egg sounded afraid. “But we must solve this puzzle before we carry on.”

  Meara traced her finger over the design. What artist had such steady hands? The outline of the tree was as smooth as glass, identical to the marks that had come before. This time though, there was something different, something more than just the etching in the stone. A square box was attached to the base of the wall. She stooped and moved the light closer to the raised knobs on its face—five knobs—each bearing a carved symbol. She dragged her finger over them. Nothing happened. She pushed down on one and heard a dull click.

  Dropping to her knees, she studied the face of the metal box. It was like the puzzle box Baylon par Dimion kept above the massive bar at the inn. The box at the base of the wall was bigger than t
he one Baylon had. Its metal finish still smooth and un-pitted, shining dully with a silver gleam.

  Meara thought back to Baylon and the puzzle box. The inn-keeper called himself a collector of curiosities. Shay Lann said he was a hoarder of junk. Late one blustery night, a grizzled wagon master had offered Baylon the puzzle box in return for ale and lodgings. Baylon hadn’t been able to keep the smile off his usually dour face. He’d insisted that the box was very old. He thought that it was once a treasure box. When the buttons were pressed in a certain order, the box would open and reveal its bounty. The box’s secret cypher was long lost, but to Baylon, the box was still priceless.

  Meara had been obsessed with Baylon’s box. She’d spent hours trying to open it, but the answer to its secret had eluded her. When she’d discovered the answer to the puzzle, the knowledge came from silence, not the pushing of buttons. She had been perched on a tall chair at the long bar, holding her amulet, staring at the row of buttons. As the sounds around her faded, a sense of peace had fallen over her. A wave of heat had passed from the amulet to her fingers. In that moment of tranquility, she had pressed down on the buttons. The face of the box had slid open with an echoing click. There was nothing inside of it. To Baylon’s disappointment, she was never able to open it again. Did this box open in the same way?

  She touched the amulet and closed her eyes, searching for peace. The sound of rushing water receded, her breathing slowed. She felt the smooth surface of the knobs beneath her hand.

  As her mind floated, she pressed down on the buttons. A dull click marked the final push. Meara opened her eyes. The ground trembled gently under her knees. She stood and backed away from the wall. The shaking grew. An ear-splitting groan of metal on metal filled her head. The egg squeaked. The erratic quaking of the floor knocked Meara off balance. She fell. Sprawled on her face, she spread her fingers wide, trying to find a handhold on the moving floor.

  “What is it? What’s happening?” she demanded.

  The egg shivered.

  Below her, a low pitched, groaning growl began. It kept time with the lurching of the floor. A sudden violent tremor rattled her teeth and tossed her about like a feather. CRACK. The ground broke away from the wall carrying Meara with it. She clung desperately to her spot on the floor, her cheek pressed tightly against the cold stone and waited to die. The floor shuddered once more and went still.

  Meara stayed where she was. She could feel the egg quaking.

  “Are you going to see what’s there?” the egg said.

  Meara shook her head violently and didn’t answer.

  “It’s stopped. Get up,” the egg commanded.

  Meara rolled over. “If you want to know so badly, why don’t you go and take a look,” she retorted.

  “I cannot see,” the egg said haughtily.

  Slowly and carefully, Meara sat up. The ground was done with its wild ride. She’d lost her light globe during the shaking. It had rolled to the edge of the floor, to the spot where the floor of the cave had broken away. She stared into the pool of light left by the globe. A black hole gaped where once there had been solid stone. Whatever strange magic the box had worked, the result had carried her away from the wall of the cave and left this trench in front of her. She edged closer to the brink.

  “Not too close now,” warned the egg.

  “You can’t have it both ways. Either I look, or we sit here forever.” Meara batted a chunk of hair out of her eyes.

  “All right then,” the egg muttered. “But go slowly. Do not rush in like you always do.”

  Meara rolled her eyes and didn’t respond. Instead she edged her way to where the opening started. The trench crossed the cave and was at least twenty paces wide. Cautiously, she inched her way along, gathering her light and moving nearer to the gap. She’d been wrong. It wasn’t a hole in the ground. It was a pit built into the floor of the cave. At its center was another box.

  Her heart sank. More riddles.

  “What now?” she muttered.

  “You have found the key. Now you must find out what you have unlocked.” The egg sounded as if he didn’t think she was up to the task.

  “Easy for you, egg, you are all words, but little action,” she answered.

  She scooted her bottom to the edge of the box and dangled her feet over the drop. The ancients had many secrets. This was just one more of them.

  “Well, are you going to just sit there? Go and discover what that is,” the egg urged.

  “Be patient. Better to move slowly than fall into a pit.”

  “Hah, even I can tell that your pit is only as high as your waist. What are you waiting for?”

  Meara exhaled sharply in exasperation. Unfortunately, the egg was right. Once she slid off the lip of steel, she would be only waist deep in the box. She dropped the short distance to the new floor and stood still, afraid the floor would move and squish her between its edges. Nothing happened. She took a step, stumbling on the uneven surface. Raised domes of iron pockmarked the floor, making walking difficult. It was like wading through the stumps outside of Vendonne after she and Kieran had passed through the gate. Carefully, she moved between them to reach the metal box.

  The top of the box came to the level of her knees. Its diameter was half as tall as she was. Heavy ribs of iron formed a grid across its surface. The hard steel was deeply pitted. She raised her light and studied the top of the box. A recessed lever rested at its center. Underneath it was a gap big enough for her to slide her hand in and wrap her fingers around the bar. Reluctantly, she touched the lever, and felt the deep depression lining one end.

  “What are you waiting for?” the egg challenged.

  “I’m afraid,” Meara answered thinly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when I pull up on this lever. What if I trigger something that kills us both?”

  “Is this what you want the ballads to sing of—Meara the Timid, who carried me, the Dragon of Peace, to this place and stopped?”

  “The Dragon of Peace? I see no dragon. I see an egg that could easily be scrambled. How do you know that the way wasn’t barred for a reason?”

  “Perhaps you should gather your courage and find out. Pull up on the bar.”

  Meara wrapped her fingers around the lever. Her palms were slick with sweat, making her grip slippery. She let go and wiped her hand on her cloak. Using both hands, she gripped the bar and pulled. Deep beneath her feet, she heard the rasping groan of heaving metal. The box she stood in shuddered. Meara let go of the handle and jumped away. One side of the metal box was lifting, breaking open, swinging skyward on hidden hinges. A sibilant hiss marked the opening. The box stopped moving. She stared down into a dark maw—the waiting mouth of a hungry beast. Warm, musty air flowed over her.

  The egg moaned.

  “We have no choice,” Meara muttered. The egg’s lack of answer made it clear that for once, he was leaving it all up to her.

  She held her light over the hole and saw a ladder descending into the dark.

  “There is no other way,” she repeated. Her words echoed back at her.

  She shifted closer to the edge of the opening and stared down. There is no other way, she repeated, silently this time. Carefully, she swung one leg over, kicking her dress and cloak aside. Her toe caught in the hem making her stumble and she fell against the hatch. The egg twittered.

  Breathing heavily, Meara straightened, pushing herself back from the heavy door. One more step. She shivered. One more step, and she would have fallen headfirst through the hole. She gathered the cumbersome fabric between her fingers and hiked it above her knees. The cold rung of the ladder bit into her hand as she began her descent. Darkness closed over her. The light conjured by Kieran faded to a dull gleam. She held it tighter. If the globe fell . . . if the light went out . . . She shied away from the thought.

  A fold of fabric flopped around her feet. Her arms ached. Merdon, would the climb never end?

  Her left foot touched solid ground. She stumbled, losing her hold on the
light globe. It fell, rolled once, twice, and fizzled into darkness. Night gobbled her up. She froze, listening to the roar of silence over the pounding of her heart.

  Chapter 31

  Danger—be wary.

  Wait—watch!

  In the darkness

  pay heed.

  Translated from the Chronicles of the Egg

  A fork of lightning slashed the sky. Kieran picked himself up off the ground and threw himself into the rambling run he’d adopted before darkness claimed the land. The lightning was closer now. He could smell the ozone and a whiff of something stronger—char, brimstone? He sucked in a jerky breath and bent lower, cutting through the brush, trying to blend with the terrain. He ran as if Darone and his army of specters were closing in on him. He tripped on a fallen log and stumbled, barely missing the lethal thorns of a barone bush. A slice from one of its jagged spikes, and he’d be left nursing a cut that would fester and bloat for a full cycle of the moon.

  His plan had to work. Whatever distance he could steal from the cave before revealing himself to the swarm had to be enough to draw them away from Meara’s trail.

  Meara. He tightened his resolve and pushed harder. Was she safe? The memory of her expression as he shoved her through the cave’s opening haunted him. He didn’t have a choice, he told himself grimly. Orlan’s warning was clear. The scouting parties of the Mage were close, closer than they had imagined. The time for hiding was past. They had to part, and Kieran had to lead the swarm away.

  But separation came too soon. He hadn’t warned her of what lay ahead. The black labyrinth of tunnels she passed through twisted deep into the mountain. If you didn’t pay attention, you could lose yourself forever. His own time in the caves was proof of that. Orlan’s fall from a rocky ledge could have spelled disaster if it hadn’t been for Allego. The scrawny, beak-nosed apprentice had been following them for weeks. Kieran snorted at the memory. Everyone said the twins were lucky that Allego had recognized their peril and followed them into the cave.

  The cave . . . Kieran shook his head remembering the cave. Its impenetrable blackness and dank earthy smells still haunted his dreams. The cave—that’s where he learned the trick of the glowing ball. With Orlan stretched unconscious on the ground, he’d had to swallow his fear of magic and make a desperate attempt to conjure the light. When Allego caught up with them he’d conjured a new light globe before going for help. Of course, All Ego’s light burned brighter than Kieran’s. That had doubled the fool’s conceit. Kieran and Orlan had landed in a hornet’s nest of trouble and Allego came off as their savior. No one remembered to ask why Allego had been in the caves as well as Kieran and his twin.