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way out of this maze of dark passages and tall caverns. At one point he had hesitated between two large tunnels, one angling down into the mountain, the other veering once again upward. Erik sensed Calis had wanted to take the other tunnel, the one heading deep into the heart of the mountains, but he kept them moving upward. Erik wondered what had drawn Calis to that other tunnel.
Late the next day, the soldier carrying the bundle of torches said they were running low. Calis acknowledged the report, saying nothing else.
Erik felt an unexpected stab of fear at the thought of being in these mines without light. They had been extinguishing the torches when they slept. On the first night he had awakened in total darkness and had to fight back the urge to shout in alarm. He had never awakened to so utter a blackness, and he had lain there listening in the dark. He realized he was not the only one awake, for he could hear the rapid breathing of men not able to sleep in such conditions, and the quiet weeping of one or two who felt terror so profound he could understand it even if he couldn’t name it.
Another fitful night was spent in utter darkness, and then they resumed their march. At noon on the fifth day they broke for the midday meal, more dried rations. Water was a problem, as they had only two large skins and a handful of smaller ones, filled at an underground pool the morning before. But there was no sign of water anywhere nearby, and Calis ordered the men to drink as they had in the desert, one mouthful, no more.
As they were readying to move out, a distant clatter rang through the tunnel, as if someone had dis-
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lodged rocks. Calis motioned for everyone to stand still. After a while de Loungville whispered, “Rock slide?”
“Perhaps,” answered the Captain. “But I need to be sure.” He pointed up and toward the left. “If I am correct, somewhere up ahead you should come either to an opening that leads directly to the surface, showing you some light, or a big passage leading up and away to the left. Ignore any passages that clearly lead downward or off to the right.” He smiled slightly. “You should be on the surface by the time I catch up with you. I will follow as soon as I am sure there is nothing behind us.”
“Do you want a torch?” asked de Loungville.
“I can find my way without one. If we are being followed by the Saaur, I don’t want any light to show them where I am if I get too close.”
Erik wondered how he could find his way through the dark, and, even if he could, how he was willing to give up the torch’s reassurance, scant as it was. Calis moved down the line, offering a quick tap on the shoulder or nod to each of the men as he passed them.
De Loungville motioned for hand signals only and indicated they should follow him. Erik discovered he was now second in line. He peered into the gloom, barely able to see ten feet beyond the sergeant into the murk, as the flickering torch in the middle of the line caused the shadows, to dance. He fervently hoped that Calis was correct and they were getting close to getting out of these caves. They moved forward.
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gone for almost a half day. The men were tired, and it seemed an appropriate time for sleep.
Motioning for a halt, he whispered back, “How many torches?”
The answer came, “We have two after this one.”
De Loungville swore. “If the Captain doesn’t get back soon, we may be truly lost in the dark tomorrow, unless that passage he spoke of is nearby. Put out that torch and make sure you have everything needed to light it quickly if there’s any’ trouble. I want two shifts, first four hours and second four; then we walk out of this gods-forsaken hole.”
Erik knew he would be among those sleeping first, so he lay down and tried to get as comfortable as possible. Despite being tired to his bones, he just couldn’t find it easy to sleep in the pitch darkness on rock.
He closed his eyes and heard muttering which told him that the torch had been extinguished; he was not alone in being troubled by the total absence of light.
He kept his eyes closed and turned his mind to pleasant thoughts. He wondered how the harvest at home this year had gone and how the grapes looked.
He recalled the growers bragging about a record crop, but that was nothing unusual. You could usually tell if they were just talking to hear themselves talk or if they truly meant it by their manner. The more earnest they were that it was to be a great year, the more you could suppose it wouldn’t be, but if they spoke of the harvest in a matter-of-fact, nearly indifferent way, it would be a great year.
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and regretted he hadn’t gone to the orchard with her on the occasions he might have. Having a woman was a great deal more than he had imagined, and the memory of the whore’s softness roused his flesh despite his fatigue. He thought of Rosalyn and found himself both fascinated and disturbed by remembering her without her clothing. He had seen her numerous times as a child bathing, but seeing her woman’s breasts as she lay before the tree . . . He found the memory now oddly disturbing, as if there must be something wrong to think about how she looked as the result of a rape.
Erik tried to turn over and succeeded only in making himself less comfortable. Maybe he could talk to Nakor about this unsettling memory of Rosalyn; the funny man seemed to know a great deal and perhaps could tell Erik why he was suddenly aroused by such a repulsive memory.
Yet when he thought of that night the rage and anger were distant, and the murder seemed as if it happened to someone else. But those small firm breasts . . .
He groaned slightly and sat up, suddenly disoriented in the darkness. He started to berate himself for being as depraved as any man living when it struck him suddenly there was light coming from ahead in the tunnel. It was faint, but any light would be noticeable in the absolute gloom of the cavern.
He sensed more than saw the form of de Loungville before him and saw that the soldier who was to have been on duty had dozed off. He felt no anger for the man: remaining alert in total darkness was almost impossible. The sound of slow breathing everywhere told Erik he might be the only man 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 500
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remaining awake who was close enough to the head of the column to see the light.
He gently reached past de Loungville and nudged the sentry. The man came awake, saying, “What?”
De Loungville was awake an instant later and also whispered, “What?”
Before the sentry could say anything, Erik said,
“Marc thought he saw light ahead, Sergeant. He was asking me if I saw it, too.” Turning to the sentry, he said, “Yes, there is light up there.”
De Loungville said, “Wake the others. Quietly.
No torch. First six men come with me.”
They crept forward, and after a few steps, Erik could see it was a moving light, coming from the left, from a passage that intersected the one in which they traveled fifty or so feet farther along. As they neared the passage, it was clear it was rapidly growing brighter, then suddenly de Loungville was motioning for everyone to hug the walls.
The sounds of movement preceded a figure who strode into view, passing through the intersection without a glance right or left. Erik gripped his sheathed sword hilt, ready to pull it free should the need arise.
The creature was a serpent man, dressed in a tunic and leggi
ngs rather than trousers, which allowed his short tail to swing freely.
Behind him came two more, larger and dressed in armor. Erik had had a good look at the Saaur, a better look than he would care to repeat, but these creatures were of a different stripe. The tallest of them was smaller than human by a head, and they were sinuous. Erik noticed they seemed slow and deliberate in their movement. He wondered if it might be 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 501
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the chill in the cavern that slowed them, for Nakor had said these creatures were cold-blooded.
Another pair of guards passed through, one glancing in their direction. Erik waited, but the creature moved on without comment or alarm. Erik could only reason that the creature’s night vision had been harmed by the closeness of the torch before it, and that, hugging the walls, the humans were nearly invisible.
Another pair, then another, until a full dozen Pantathians walked by.
De Loungville motioned for the others to wait, then moved to where the light was quickly fading.
He hurried back and whispered, “They’re gone.”
As the tunnel was plunged into darkness again, they reached the remaining column, now alert to the last man. Nakor, who had worked his way to the head of the line, said, “Serpent men, yes?”
“How’d you know?”
“I felt them” was his answer. “I feel a lot of strange things here. This is a bad place.”
“I’ll not argue that,” said de Loungville. He let his breath out slowly, in frustration. Then he said, “I want us out of here as fast as we can get.”
Erik found listening to his voice in pitch darkness only heightened his appreciation of the tone of frustration in the man’s statement. Then de Loungville asked, “Which way do we go?”
Nakor whispered, “We move roughly to the southeast. I think we go the way the snake men came from, not follow after. I think they came from the surface and go somewhere deep within the mountain. We are high enough that we will find it cool, cold even, when we come out. Serpent people don’t 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 502
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like the cold, so I think that would be the place they don’t live.”
“You think they live down under the mountain?”
“Could be,” Nakor answered. “Hard to know, but they are here and we need to do many things before we start fighting again. If we die, then no one knows what’s really going on, and that is bad.”
De Loungville was silent. Erik found himself growing uncomfortable with the duration and at last said, “Sergeant?”
“Shut up,” came the quick response. “I’m thinking.”
Erik and the others stayed silent. Then at last de Loungville’s voice cut through the darkness.
“Greylock!” he called, his voice low but urgent.
From the rear a figure moved slowly forward, trying not to step on feet in the dark. At last a voice said, nearby, “Yes?”
“You’re in charge. I expect you to get as many of this company out alive as you can.”
The former officer said, “I will, Sergeant. I’d like Erik for my second.”
De Loungville didn’t hesitate. “Von Darkmoor, you act as sergeant for a while. Jadow, you’re his corporal. All of you pay attention to whatever Nakor and Hatonis have to say.
“This is what you’re going to do. I’m waiting here for Calis. I don’t want to try to mark the passages we take in case more of those Pantathians come this way.
Leave me one torch and I’ll wait here until I decide the Captain’s not coming back.” There was a note of urgency and worry in his voice Erik had never heard before. He wondered if he would have noticed it had he been able to see de Loungville’s face.
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“Then I’ll catch up with you,” continued de Loungville.
“Now, here’s what you do. When you reach the surface, get across the grasslands as best you can, and to the coast. Acquire horses or steal a boat, but somehow get back to the City of the Serpent River.
Trenchard’s Revenge is there or she’s been sunk, for Nicholas gave orders that at least one ship would remain for us. Hatonis and his men will know the best route.”
Hatonis, from the rear, spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry just to the front of the line.
“There’s an old trade route, overland from Ispar to the City of the Serpent River, through Maharta. It is rarely used anymore, but it should be passable on horseback.”
De Loungville took a deep breath and said, “All right, light a torch and get out of here.”
The man who had been harboring the torches lit a spark and soon the flame was going. Erik found he had to squint, which surprised him, given how far back down the line the light was. He turned and saw de Loungville; the sergeant had his usual mask of determination in place. Erik decided he wouldn’t have noticed the sound of worry if he had been looking at the man.
Without saying anything, Erik reached out and quickly placed his hand on de Loungville’s arm, gave a quick squeeze, and released it, the only gesture he could make without saying something.
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men to follow to the left. Erik reached the junction and as he started to turn the corner, he fought down the urge to look back to where de Loungville waited.
If only the Captain were here, he said to himself silently. Where could Calis be?
* * *
Calis held close to the wall as he stared in wide-eyed amazement. He and his father had spoken many times of what it would be like to confront their unusual heritage, a legacy of ancient magic, warped by the skill of Macros the Black, and used to bring to his human father the powers incarnate of the legendary Valheru. Tomas had wooed and won the hand of Aglaranna, the Queen of the Elves, and had fathered Calis, impossible fruit of a union unique in history.
Calis was young by the reckoning of the elven people, little more than a half century old. By human consideration, he was a man of middle years, and by any measure, he had more than a dozen lifetimes’
experience in watching the pain and madness of the creatures that lived on this world.
But nothing had prepared him to deal with the consequences of what he had chosen to investigate.
Elves possessed the ability to navigate by the dimmest light of the night, a single moon, or distant stars, but even dwarves were incapable of seeing in the utter blackness of underground tunnels. Yet they had other senses, and Calis, unlike his elven cousins, had traveled with dwarves enough in his youth to have learned some of their tricks: the sound of air moving, faint echoes upon the passage walls, counting turns and remembering distances. It was said that once upon a path, no dwarf could ever fail to retrace his steps. Calis possessed the same knack.
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After leaving the company, he had moved back down to the vast gallery, the circular central hail of this city within a mountain. For that was what he was certain it had been, once in ancient days, a city beneath the mountains, as Roo had supposed. But the youth from Ravensburg had no idea what sort of city.
From what he had studied with Tathar and the other Spellweavers of Elvandar, Calis had suspected from the first that this was a city of elven construction rather than dwarven. But the elves who had built this place were as unlike Calis’s people as they were unlike any other mortal race. Those elves had existed as slaves to the Valheru, and only by command of their ancient masters could such a place have come to be built by elven hands.
Once he had reached the gallery, Calis was convinced the sound he had heard had been nothing more than a distant rockfall. There were no signs of pursuit; still, he moved downward to make sure, passing the strange split in the tunnels that had called to him so strangely.
He had moved deep within the well of darkness, and when at last he could hear only his own breath and the pounding of his heart in his ear, he turned back. But as he approached that odd junction where he had hesitated the first time he had passed, at the head of the company, he again paused, sensing something ancient and compelling deep within the tunnel that moved downward.
It was a foolish risk, yet it was impossible for Calis to resist. He knew he should ensure the others got free, but he had faith in the cunning of de Loungville and the skills of Nakor.
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And now he knew what had called him. There was something ancient at the heart of this hall. And he looked upon it with fear and astonishment.
He had taken the tunnel moving downward, following it through another gallery, smaller than the grand gallery they had climbed, yet large enough to have served as a small town. High above, a faint light shone down, so far away that the noon sun was but a pinpoint, yet that entrance, at the summit of some high mountain, told him his instinct was correct.
This ancient place had once been home to a Valheru, much as the great cavern below the Mac Mordain Cadal, the ancient dwarven mines in the Grey Tower Mountains, had been home to Ashen-Shugar, the Ruler of the Eagles’ Reaches, the Valheru whose ancient spirit had come to possess his father and change his nature so profoundly.
Crossing a narrow stone bridge, he had come to a set of wooden doors large enough to admit a great dragon, and Calis knew that once they did, for the Dragon Lords kept their mighty mounts close at hand. In the door was a smaller portal one used by servants in ages past.
He had moved a heavy iron handle, and to his surprise it opened a latch easily and without noise. The door had swung open on hinges recently well oiled, and Calis blinked his eyes as the sudden light threatened to blind him.
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