“Let’s get out of here,” Saxthor said.
Tournak flicked his finger-torch again. Nervousness fed the flame enough to illuminate the cavern. The ceiling was covered elbow to elbow with monstrous crickets in various sizes, the smallest as big as a man. The smell of blood oozing from the dead cricket began luring the others to a feast below. The whole cavern seemed to move down. The sound of monstrous spikes on the huge legs rubbing against each other began to reverberate in the cave.
“Move along the stream, no sudden movements.” Saxthor’s low tone was tense as a coiled spring.
“We should go back the way we came,” Bodrin said, holding Tonelia’s hand.
Saxthor pointed. “Look, beyond the dead cricket.”
Bodrin and Tournak peered around Saxthor and through the cricket’s thrashing legs. Already others had descended the cavern walls, cricket to cricket, a wall of legs behind the carcass. The first arrivals were eating, causing the dead legs to tremble in their jaws. Crunching carapace was a new, ominous sound.
“We mustn’t bump into one, or they’ll start jumping, and the whole cave will explode in a mass of hopping, spiny legs,” Saxthor said. “We have to stay clear of the dead cricket. While they’re eating one of their own, we might be able to escape downstream. Now move! All those crickets will make short work of the monster feast.”
Tournak shuttered. “They’ll soon begin searching for scraps.”
“Yeah, and we’ll qualify as scraps,” Bodrin said.
Saxthor nudged Bodrin. “Get going.”
Having witnessed the grisly scene, Tournak and Bodrin rushed along the stream with Tonelia between them.
“What’s ahead can’t be any worse than those crickets crunching that thing back there,” Tonelia said.
Tonelia’s not going to be the last one in line, Saxthor thought. Even in full flight down the stream, Tonelia seems to have regained her nerve. I just hope they don’t run into a cricket and set off a chain reaction.
“Bet we could sell one of those things to the chatra for some serious money,” Tonelia quipped.
The men smirked but didn’t break the pace of their flight. The cool, musty dampness increased. The air circulation didn’t. Ammonia wafted up from decaying cricket droppings.
If we don’t reach an exit soon, the ammonia will kill us, Saxthor thought. The air should be circulating if there’s an exit.
His stomach turned.
Their movement slowed as they approached the cavern’s far wall. Then the stream went into a pool that disappeared under the dark granite.
“What’s that?” Bodrin was looking at movement in the wall.
A giant head protruded from a niche, its swishing antennae probing the darkness.
“Cripes, look at that centipede,” Tournak said. “It’s a monster, too.”
Saxthor backed up. “It’s smelled death.”
Tournak looked about; picked bones littered the cavern everywhere.
“No dead crickets?” Tonelia asked.
“They’re all cannibals,” Saxthor said.
“There must be a way out.” Tonelia squeezed Bodrin’s hand, then dropped down, searching the floor around the pool.
Saxthor’s stomach convulsed. No way out, he thought. He went to the pool at the base of the wall. For a moment, all stared at the swirling current vanishing under solid rock.
“We’ll have to swim for it,” Saxthor said.
“Have you lost your mind?” Tonelia asked. “I can’t swim. I can’t even imagine going under water that disappears into a stone wall.”
“Look far back under the rock,” Saxthor said. “See tiny flecks of light in the bubbles?”
“I don’t see any light!” Tonelia said.
“I see it,” Tournak said.
Bodrin leaned down. “I see it too.”
“If there’s light, it has to be coming from the outside,” Saxthor said. “The outside can’t be too far, and if we can hold our breaths long enough, maybe we can swim under the rock and come out on the other side.”
“Maybe?” Tonelia wrapped around Bodrin like an octopus.
“That’s not much light. What if it’s a long way underwater?” Bodrin said. “We’ll drown under there.”
“What’re our chances if you stay here?” Saxthor said. He looked at the centipede nearby, following the now half-eaten dead cricket’s scent. The centipede swayed, tasting the air.
“I’m not going down there.” Tonelia backed away from the pool.
“I’ll go first,” Saxthor said. “I’ll swim back if it’s okay and get Delia. Get out the cooking pot to hold air for her. Tonelia, wrap your arms around Bodrin’s waist in the water. Bodrin, you’ll have to swim for both of you.”
They looked at each other, then frowned at Saxthor.
“It’s better than staying here and dealing with that centipede coming out of its lair now.” Saxthor pointed at the rippling legs. “We’re running out of time.”
The others nodded.
“Make it fast; we’ll follow,” Tournak said.
Saxthor plunged into the cold water that felt like thousands of frozen knives piercing from head to toe. He adjusted to the shock, took a deep breath, and disappeared under the rock wall. A few moments later, he reappeared, just as the centipede’s twitching antennae turned toward the troupe.
“Tournak, it’s not too far. You lead; I’ll come last to cover our escape.”
Tournak hesitated. “You go first, Saxthor. We can’t risk losing you. I’ll come last.”
Saxthor glanced again at the centipede. It had turned from the crickets and begun scrambling toward them.
“Tournak, no time to argue. Go now! There’s an air pocket a few yards under the rock.”
With pinched lips, Tournak plunged into the cold water, bobbed once for air, and disappeared under the rock wall.
“Bodrin, grab Tonelia and go, go now!”
Tonelia screamed when an antenna tapped her back.
Bodrin pulled her to him. Exhilarated by death at his heels, he cast aside shyness and kissed Tonelia in a flood of passion.
Tonelia glared back at the crickets and oncoming centipede.
“Not now, Bodrin! Why did you wait until now?” She grabbed him, jumped into the pool, and gasped. “Cripes, it’s cold.”
Saxthor drew Sorblade and slashed at the centipede hacking off an antenna tip. The creature whipped its head about. The mandibles clicked chopping at Saxthor.
Bodrin pulled Tonelia against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hold tight to me and take a deep breath. Don’t let go of me, my love. Here we go.” They took sucked in air and dove down into the water.
Saxthor saw Tonelia’s dark hair fan out in the pool then disappear. The centipede’s antenna, oozing, tapped Saxthor. Looking back, he saw the mandibles spreading. He clutched Delia under one arm, stuck her head in the upturned pot, and dove underwater as the mandibles snapped shut, scraping his boot.
Saxthor popped up on the rock’s other side in a small cavern, catching his breath for a moment.
At least the air is good, he thought. It’s eerie yet beautiful.
A soft blue-green light coming from underwater at the far end shimmered through the pool. Delia broke free, swimming helter-skelter. Saxthor noted the others were bobbing in the water.
“I can’t believe we’re still alive,” Bodrin said. Tonelia said nothing, but her teeth chattered for her. Tournak flicked his fingers for a finger-torch. The blue light exposed beautiful crystals covering the limestone walls.
“It’s like being inside a geode,” Saxthor said. Again, he had Delia under his arm, patting her head and calming her.
“We should be dead,” Tonelia managed to get out. “Did I drown?”
“The light from the far opening is stronger. It must be coming from the outside,” Tournak said.
“Do we have to do that again?” Tonelia was staring at the light coming from underwater.
“Let’s go, we’ve caught our
breath,” Saxthor said. “We’ll soon use up the air in here. This cold water is numbing my limbs; it’ll hinder our ability to swim.”
“Cold, you say, I thought I was numb because I was dead.” Tonelia glared at Saxthor and clasped Bodrin’s waist. He smiled.
The four submerged again. They swam under the next cavern wall and out onto a sandbar in the daylight. Delia shattered the serenity when she shook head to toe, showering water on the others. The four lay back on the warm sand.
“Sunshine never felt so warm or so welcome,” Tonelia said. “I can’t believe all that happened in a couple of hours.”
“I’ve aged fifty years,” Saxthor said.
“Fifty years?” Tournak said, then laughed.
Twit flew down to the commotion; and, in a rare act, hopped onto Saxthor’s shoulder. He bobbed there a few times, inspecting Saxthor face to face. That was enough emotion for the old bird. He flew up above on an outcrop, indicating the way forward.
*
The travelers hiked along the mountainside until they found a cave for the night that Twit had located. The sun was already gone, and still damp, they were happy to find the shelter.
“We’ll have to find firewood,” Tournak said. “If we stay in these damp clothes, we’ll die of chills or worse.”
The survivors collected firewood and started a fire after checking the cave for cave bear tracks. They took off their outer clothes and hung them to dry, keeping on something for decency in mixed company. The cave soon warmed, drying them.
“What do we eat tonight?” Bodrin asked.
“That man’s stomach is a bottomless pit,” Tournak said.
“Something well boiled,” Tonelia said. “Dinner won’t be so bad if we just don’t think about the water source.”
* * *
“Where’s he now?” Earwig screamed from the tower, where she now spent most of her time. Muttering as she paced, she periodically kicked or backhanded the nearest objects.
“I was so close to the throne, and then that annoying Saxthor returned. It’s just too much. I’m exhausted, and he’s still alive. What’s he up to? I must know what that obstacle is up to.”
In her outburst, she kicked something on the dusty floor. The bone smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces. When she saw it, she remembered Radrac with a fleeting ting of sorrow.
Concocting her next move, she stormed about in the chamber for hours. Even Magnosious, smoldering in his cave, couldn’t soothe her tormented soul. Thinking aloud, her ranting fractured the silence.
“If Saxthor were closer, I’d send my precious Magnosious to incinerate him, but I don’t have enough power to search him out. He’s in the north somewhere, but where? My strength is ebbing. I need an infusion of the dark energy I’ve expended. I’ll have to go to The Crypt in the hills.” She went to the window. “Magnosious!”
The great dragon hopped up, loping for the cave entrance he knew Earwig would unseal with her summons. He launched himself into the air, his great wings snapping taut. Several great flaps for exercise, and he soared around the Earwighof. He flew low, and the trailing blast of wind from the compensating wing flap collapsed a peasant cottage. It was a minor thrill.
“Magnosious!” Earwig’s head protruded from the window slit, giving an evil eye to the errant dragon. “Quit playing and get over here. We’re going to The Crypt.”
“What’s The Crypt?” Magnosious asked as he sailed by, made another loop, and turned back to the tower.
Earwig watched every dip and turn, her eyebrows scrunching lower in the center with each move. Her impatience was boiling to critical as Magnosious soared around the tower in diminishing circles before he settled onto the reinforced roof. The great tower’s stones creaked and groaned under his weight. She forgave her pet his antics; he was just a boy after all.
“What’s The Crypt?”
“Well, I don’t suppose it will hurt to tell you. When I convinced Duke Minnabec to buy this dilapidated palace, it was to get access to The Crypt. The place is especially potent in its connection to the underworld.”
“Underworld, yes, why’s that?”
“Essentially, death,” Earwig answered. “Since animals began migrating through this area, that unique formation has been a place of death. Rich grasslands on the Vos led to large herds of grazing animals in the area long ago. East of the river, hills converge over a long distance, forming a wedge. Where they came together, a stream flowed into the ground, and the water dissolved the limestone, creating caverns. At some point, an earthquake occurred, and the feeble supporting structure gave way. The plain collapsed.”
He looked impatient. Earwig continued, “Ever since, when exhausted animals would stampede and run down the wedge, they’d run over the cliff’s edge to their deaths on the sinkhole floor. Scavengers hover over the accursed crater. All sorts of evil accumulated and festered in the layers of bones, corpses, and pain locked in death.”
“Sounds like a big feast to me,” Magnosious said. “Unlimited food, I want to go there. There may be something left to eat.”
“In the Wizard Wars, the Dark Lord lured his opponents here for a great battle. Many elves and men lost their lives when the king drove them down the wedge and over the cliff. After that, people called it The Crypt. Most people forgot it through the ensuing generations, but evil keeps its memory. Thus, when I found myself displaced from the throne, I cast my eye about and chose this dump for a place of exile from which I could plot my restoration.”
“Yeah, so do you think there’re still things lying around dead that might be good to eat?” Magnosious drooled, and a glob of spittle ran down the roof tiles, burning off moss and any organic matter.
Earwig jerked back inside the tower, narrowly avoiding more spittle. “Careful, you fool. I’ve told you before to watch your mouth.”
“Sorry,” Magnosious said. He licked his lips, cleaning himself up. “Please continue.”
“We bought the Earwighof, and I immediately began converting this dark tower close to your hill and The Crypt beyond. Powerful as I am, even I fear going to The Crypt. I’ve expended too much of my own soul, though, and in my weakness, I couldn’t conjure a bat. I must go to The Crypt and bask in the invigoration of countless cold dead souls. It’s my only chance to recharge my strength.”
*
When the full moon rose that night, Earwig again summoned Magnosious. She mounted the beast beyond the courtyard as his smoldering snorts showered the dilapidated garden with fiery sparks.
“To The Crypt, with all speed,” Earwig commanded. “To the east.”
With a splutter of flame, the dragon leaped into the air. Magnosious soared, circled the Earwighof, and turned east into the hills. He settled down on the crater’s rim, and Earwig climbed down his scaly leg. The great dragon puffed fire, charring a terror-stunned deer that waited too long to flee. He snapped up the smoldering victim, crunching the bones as he waited for Earwig to return.
The witch crept along the ridge until she came to a crumbling slope down to The Crypt’s core bone pile she could negotiate. She crawled down through skeletons. Her hands and boots stuck to decaying sinews, but she descended to the earth’s lesion under the bone heap. Skittish, she edged her way down to the cauldron’s sweltering rim and looked into the hot simmering abyss.
“There boil the souls of those that died in horror, lost to The Crypt in the molten magma’s rage.”
The mumbling continued with spell after spell, conjuring and cajoling the tortured souls to release their concentrated pain’s corrupted energy to her withered soul. Each infusion burned her flesh. Pain pulsed through her as she sucked up the malignant energy, reviving if corrupting her more. Her hands blistered in the tempest, veins seeming to crawl around under her hide. She didn’t notice her popping, sizzling hair above seared eyebrows. Through the night, smoke and steam spewed from her gaping pores running with smoky sweat. Only when the pompoms of hair growing from her nose burned back to their roots would she pull
back for an instant. Then she’d again stick her head into the swirling smoke rising from the boiling magma.
“Come; release your pain to me!”
Earwig was there until just before sunrise. When revitalized, she returned to her tower and sent the winged monster to his lair. She didn’t care about her appearance when she descended the tower steps for the morning meal with the duke. Minnabec paled, seeing her renewed strength. Her sneer and repugnant smokehouse stench scattered the remaining servants.
With fresh strength came aggression. Earwig’s soul mortgaged a high price for recharging, though she hoped to postpone the payment due. She shot a small blue spark down the long table at Minnabec, cowering in his chair. He screamed, shot up, and ran from the room, slapping at his burning flesh. Her folded napkin snapped, signaling expectation to be served, but no servant responded.
* * *
The travelers awoke the next morning to dry clothes and gear. They discussed plans over breakfast.
“Lake Lemnos should be below us soon,” Saxthor said.
“On reaching lake’s end, we should leave the mountains and hike to Lake Talok over the hills below,” Tournak said. “We’re far enough from Hoya now that it should be safe to take the easier route.”
They hiked all day, crossing three small ridges, careful to stay below the summits to avoid exposing visible silhouettes. On the evening of the fourth day since escaping the crickets, they again found a cave for the night. Bodrin emerged. “No bear tracks in the entrance here.”
“You sure?” Saxthor asked.
“I’m never going to hear the end of the cave bear oversight, am I?”
Tonelia didn’t lookup. “Not likely.”
“Okay, I’ll take pity on you.” Saxthor poked Bodrin. “Let’s split up and find some firewood.”
The fire lit, Tonelia put a pot of water on to boil some dried meat and went in search of herbs. When the meat was tender, she chopped the herbs and tossed in rosemary, some wild oregano, wild garlic bulbs, and nice young slices of a red steak-like mushroom she’d discovered beneath a scraggly bush.
The N Arc of Empire- Complete Series Page 40