convinced he had fallen and broken a leg or worse when he appeared at the hole’s
opening.
“The steps lead to a big cavern with many tunnels and ledges. I spotted a few
footprints in the dirt, but had to come back before my light died,” Tauno said. “I
also heard water gurgling nearby.”
Now we knew. Vermin had gone through the cave.
“Leif, what do you need to make a light last longer?” I asked him.
“You’re not thinking about going in there, are you?” Marrok asked, sounding
horrified.
“Of course. You want to find Cahil, don’t you?”
“What makes you so certain he went that way?”
I looked at Leif. Together we said, “Smug satisfaction.”
While Leif and Tauno returned to the Daviian camp for firewood, Moon Man and
I discussed what to do with the horses. We would need Marrok’s tracking skills and
Tauno’s keen sense of direction to find our way through the cavern. Leif and I
needed to take Cahil back to the Council, so that left Moon Man.
“I am not staying behind,” Moon Man said.
“Someone needs to feed and water the horses,” I said.
Kiki snorted at me. I opened my mind to her.
Don’t need, she said. We wait then go.
Go where?
Market. An image of the Illiais Market formed in my mind. As the main southern
trading post for Sitia, the market was tucked between the western edge of the Illiais
Jungle and Cowan Clan lands.
How do you know about the market? I asked.
Know land like know grass.
I smiled. Kiki’s concise view of life kept surprising me with its many layers of
emotion. If I could view the world the same way, I knew it would make my life
easier.
Moon Man had been watching me. “Perhaps Kiki should mentor you.”
“On what? How to become a Soulfinder?”
“No. You are a Soulfinder. She can help you be a Soulfinder.”
“More cryptic Story Weaver advice?”
“No. Clear as air.” Moon Man drew a deep breath and grinned at me. “Let us get
the horses ready.”
We removed their bridles and reins and packed the tack into their saddlebags.
When Leif and Tauno returned, we sorted our supplies, distributing them among our
packs and repacking the rest into the saddlebags. The horses would keep their
saddles on, but we made sure nothing would hang down or impede their motion.
My pack weighed heavier than usual, but I had an uneasy intuition we might need
a few of the items inside.
When we were ready, Leif lit the firewood torches dipped in the plant oil he had
stored in Rusalka’s saddlebags. He left most of his odd concoctions and medicines
behind, boasting he could find anything we needed in the jungle.
“If we find a way out,” Marrok muttered. “What will we do if we become lost in
the caves?”
“That will not happen,” Moon Man said. “I will mark our way with paint. If we
can not find our way through, we will return to the plateau. The horses will wait until
Yelena tells them to go.”
Moon Man wrapped his muscular arm around Marrok’s shoulders. Marrok
tensed as if he expected a blow.
“Trust yourself, Tracker. You have never been lost,” Moon Man said.
“I have never been inside a cave.”
“Then it will be a new experience for both of us.” Moon Man’s eyes glinted with
anticipation, but Marrok hunched his back.
I wasn’t a stranger to small dark places. Before becoming the Commander’s
food taster, I had spent a year in the Commander’s dungeon awaiting execution.
While I wasn’t anxious to return to a confined space, I would push past my nerves
to recapture Ferde.
“There are a few caves in the jungle,” Leif said. “Most of them are used as dens
by the tree leopards and are avoided, but I’ve explored some.” His gaze met mine
and, by the sad smile, I knew he had searched those caves looking for me.
Tauno and Marrok each held a torch. With Tauno leading the way, I followed,
crawling headfirst through the small opening. Leif was close behind, then Marrok
and finally Moon Man.
The torchlight illuminated the three-foot-wide tunnel. Shovel marks scraped the
rough walls, indicating the space had been dug. The steps turned into bumps that
helped slow our progress as we slid down the sloped passageway. I coughed as the
dust of our passing mixed with the steady flow of cool damp air.
When we reached the cavern, the tightness around my ribs eased. Tauno’s light
reflected off stones resembling teeth. A few of these hung from the ceiling and
others rose from the ground as if we stood inside the mouth of a giant beast.
“Don’t move,” Marrok ordered as he examined the floor.
Shadows danced on the pockmarked walls as Marrok searched for signs. Deep
wells of blackness indicated other tunnels, and small puddles of water peppered the
floor. Dripping and running water filled the air with a pleasant hum that countered the
unpleasant wet mineral smell mixed with a sharp animal musk.
Moon Man hunched his shoulders and short breaths punctuated his breathing.
“Is something wrong?” I asked him.
“The walls press on me. I feel squeezed. No doubt my imagination.” He went to
mark the tunnel to the surface with red paint.
“This way,” Marrok said. Amplified by either the stone walls or by fear, his voice
sounded louder than usual. He showed us a series of ledges descending down a
chute.
The smell rising from the chute turned sharp and rank. I gagged. Tauno climbed
down. The ledges turned out to be large chucks of rocks stacked crookedly on top
of one another. In certain places he hung over the side and dropped down. We
followed and with some mumbling and cursing we caught up to Tauno.
He waited on the last visible ledge. Beyond him, the chute ended in a pit of
blackness. Tauno dropped his torch. It landed on a rock floor far below.
“Too far to jump,” Tauno said.
I pulled the grapple from my pack and wedged the metal hooks into a crack, glad
I had decided to bring it along. Tying the rope onto the hook, I tested the grapple’s
grip. Secure for now, but Moon Man braced himself and gripped the rope when
Tauno swung over the edge and descended.
Moon Man’s forehead dripped with sweat despite the cool air. His uneven
breathing echoed off the walls. When Tauno reached near the bottom, Moon Man
released the rope. The grapple held Tauno’s weight. He jumped the last bit and
picked up the torch, exploring the area before giving us the all-clear signal. One by
one we joined him at the bottom of the chute. We left the grapple in place in case we
needed to return.
“I have some good news and some bad,” Tauno said.
“Just tell us,” Marrok barked.
“There is a way out of this chamber, but I doubt Moon Man or Leif will fit.”
Tauno showed us a small opening. The torch’s flame flickered in the breeze coming
from the channel.
I looked at Leif. Even though Marrok was taller than him, Leif had wide
shoulders. How had Cahil and Ferde fit through? Or had they traveled a different
way? It was hard to judge size based on a memory. Perhaps they hadn’t encountered
any trouble.
“First explore the tunnel. See what’s on the other side,” I instructed.
Tauno disappeared into the hole with a quick grace. Leif crouched next to the
opening, examining it.
“I have more plant oil,” Leif said. “Perhaps we can grease our skin and slide
through?” He stepped back when Tauno’s light brightened the passageway.
“It gets wider about ten feet down and ends in another cavern,” Tauno said.
Black foul-smelling muck covered his feet. When questioned about the mud, he
wiggled his toes. “The source of the stench. Bat guano. Lots of it.”
Those ten feet took us the longest to traverse. And I despaired at the amount of
time we used to squeeze two grown men through a narrow space. It might be
impossible to catch up with Cahil and the others. And Moon Man’s panic attack
when he had become wedged for a moment had set everyone’s mood on edge.
Standing ankle deep in bat droppings, we made for a miserable group. My
dismay reflected in everyone’s face. And it wasn’t due to the putrid and acidic smell.
Leif’s shoulders were scratched raw and bloody, and the skin on Moon Man’s arms
looked shredded. Blood dripped from his hands.
Moon Man’s breathing rasped. “Go back. We should…go back.” He panted.
“Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.”
I suppressed my worries about Cahil. Connecting with the power source, I
gathered a fiber of magic and sought Moon Man’s mind. A claustrophobic fear had
pushed logic and reason aside. I probed deeper into his thoughts to find the strong
unflappable Story Weaver, reminding him of the importance of our journey. A
Sandseed Story Weaver would not let himself panic. Moon Man’s breathing settled
as calm reclaimed his emotions. I withdrew from his mind.
“I am sorry. I do not like this cave,” Moon Man said.
“No one does,” Leif muttered.
Keeping my thread of magic, I focused on Moon Man’s arms. Large chunks of
his skin had been gouged out. My upper limbs burned with pain as I concentrated on
his injuries. When I could no longer endure the stinging fire, I used magic to push it
away from me. I swayed with relief and would have fallen to the floor if Leif hadn’t
grabbed me.
Moon Man examined his arms. “I could not lend you my strength this time,” he
said. “Your magic held me immobile.”
“What’s this?” Leif asked.
He raised my hand into the light. Blood streaked my skin, but I couldn’t find any
damage. When I had helped Tula, one of Ferde’s victims and Opal’s sister, Irys had
speculated that I had assumed her injuries then healed myself. I guessed it had been
the same with Marrok’s crushed cheek. But seeing the physical evidence turned
Irys’s theory into reality. I stared at the blood and felt light-headed.
“That’s interesting,” Leif said.
“Interesting in a good way or bad?” I asked.
“I don’t know. No one has done that before.”
I appealed to Moon Man.
“A couple Story Weavers have the power to heal, but not like that,” he said.
“Perhaps it is something only a Soulfinder can do.”
“Perhaps? You don’t know? Then why have you led me to believe you know
everything about me?” I demanded.
He rubbed his newly healed arm. “I am your Story Weaver. I do know everything
about you. However, I do not know everything about Soulfinders. Do you define
yourself strictly by that title?”
“No.” I avoided the title.
“Well then,” he said, as if that settled the matter.
“Let’s go,” Marrok said through his shirt. He had covered his nose and mouth to
block the smell. “The Daviians’ trail through this muck is easy to follow.”
With Marrok in the lead, we stepped with care. About halfway through the bats’
cavern, I sensed an awakening. Sending a thin tendril of power, I linked with the dark
minds above me as they floated toward a collective consciousness. Their need for
food pushed at me, and, through them, I felt the exact location of each bat, of each
wall, of each exit, of each rock, and each figure below. They launched.
“Duck!” I yelled as the cloud of flying creatures descended.
The drone of beating wings reached a crescendo as black bodies flew around us.
The air swirled and filled with bats. They deftly avoided knocking into us or each
other as they headed toward the exit, seeking the insects and berries of the jungle.
My mind traveled with them. The instinctual exodus of thousands of bats flying
through the tight tunnels of the cave was as organized as a military attack. And like
any well-planned event, it took time for all the bats to leave.
The muscles in my legs burned when I finally straightened. The flapping and
fluttering sounds echoed from the tunnels then faded. I looked at my companions.
No one appeared to be hurt, although a few of us were splattered with dung.
Marrok had dropped his torch, and his arms covered his head. He puffed with
alarm.
“Captain Marrok,” I said, hoping to calm him. “Give me your torch.”
My order pierced his panic. He picked up the unlit stick. “Why?”
“Because the bats have shown me the way out.” I cringed as my hand closed on
the muck-covered handle. “Leif, can you relight this?”
Leif nodded. Flames grew. When the torch burned on its own, he asked, “How
far to the jungle?”
“Not far.” I led the group, setting a quick pace. No one complained. All were as
eager as I to exit the cave.
The sound of rushing water and a glorious freshness to the air were the only signs