Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (63 page)

They were all tired. All of the passages looked alike, and they seemed endless. They had kept walking for hours, trying to keep going in their initial direction, but it was hard to tell which direction was which. In several places, the tunnel had actually collapsed, and they had to backtrack and find another way around.

None of them liked the idea of camping in the middle of a passageway, but after a while, exhaustion won out.

Flare volunteered for the middle watch, but he didn't think that he would be able to sleep, worried like he was. But as soon as he lay down, he was asleep. He was shook roughly awake by Philip, when it was his turn to watch. Later, when it was Atock's turn to stand guard, Flare promptly fell back to sleep.

Philip and Flare awoke the next morning, or at least what they assumed was the morning, Atock was warming up some old stale biscuits and pieces of salted meat.

Flare took the offered food without comment. He was sure the food was decent, but they had been eating the same thing for weeks, and he would have greatly appreciated a change. He ate slowly, without much enjoyment.

Atock, who had been tending the fire, settled back next to Flare. “I went exploring on my watch.” Flare's eyebrows shot up, and Atock quickly added, “I stayed close by, so that I could see the campsite.” Flare nodded and Atock continued, “There's a crack in the wall up ahead that slants downward. It might be our entrance to the catacombs.”

“How big is this crack?” Philip asked moving closer.

Atock shrugged, “Maybe two feet. I couldn't tell if it narrowed as it went down.”

“Two feet.” Flare repeated. “Doesn't sound too big.”

Atock grinned, “Doesn't look too big either, but it might be a way into the catacombs.”

“Let's clean up camp, and we'll take a look at it.”

'Crack is the right word for it,' Flare thought, looking at the crumbling wall. The crack ran downwards at a steep angle, but it was impossible to see how far it went. “So who wants to go first?” Flare asked. Philip and Atock just stared back at him.

Atock was even grinning slightly. “You're thinner than the rest of us.”

Flare groaned, looking back at the crack. He reached in with his torch, trying to see where it went. “It's not even smooth,” He said, to no one in particular. He just knew that he was going to get cut and scraped.

“I guess we could tie a rope to your foot.” Atock said thoughtfully, “At least that way we could pull you out, if something bad happened.”

“Great,” Flare groaned, dropping his pack on the ground. He pulled a long sleeve cloak on, hoping that he could protect his arms from getting all cut up. Then holding a torch out in front, he slowly eased himself into the opening. He paused there for a moment, while Atock tied the rope to his right foot, and then started slowly moving forward.

It was slow going, as the crack was awfully narrow, and it seemed to be getting tighter. Within moments, Flare's hands were bleeding and sore from the rough rock of the crevice. He moved downwards at a slight angle. It wasn't really like crawling, because the crevice wasn't high enough to crawl. Instead, it was more of a balancing himself with his hands. Sometimes, he had to pull himself, to get himself moving. Other times, he had to push with his hands, to keep from moving too fast.

The torch in his right hand didn't help either. He held it horizontal, with the flame a foot or so in front of his face. His knuckles on his right hand were already skinned from the rock.

Flare had gone about ten feet downwards, when his hands slipped and he slid headfirst downwards. He grabbed frantically, his hands aching in protest. He almost dropped the torch, and the flame nearly burnt his face. He regained his grip on the torch quickly, and the rope around his ankle pulled him up short.

“Are you okay?” Atock called down from up above.

His heart pounding, Flare turned his head, trying to see back the way he had come. His view was blocked, but still breathing heavy, he shouted, “Yeah. I just lost my grip.”

“I had a good idea about the rope, didn't I?” Atock called down again. There was a slight humorous tone to his voice.

“Yeah. Great.” Flare responded. He was actually very pleased that Atock had thought of the rope, but it was just too hard to lay on his stomach, on a downwards slope, and carry on a conversation.

Still breathing hard, Flare started downwards again. It was difficult to see in the flickering torch light, and all the dust was painfully annoying. The going was slow, but gradually he found the downwards slope getting steeper. He was now using his hands to keep himself from sliding, more than pulling himself along.

He sneezed, the dust having gotten overwhelming. He was sweating profusely, and the sweat kept running into his eyes, and he couldn't even wipe his eyes.

He moved farther down the crevice, and over a slight ridge. Panic almost overwhelmed him, as for just for a moment, he got stuck. He sucked in his breath, and pulled hard and he popped loose. Unfortunately, the slope on the far side of the ridge had gotten even steeper, and he lost control and slid down the short remaining slope and right over the edge into the darkness.

Chapter 27

Flare slid off of the edge of the slope, and fell into the murky blackness. The torch dropped from his hand, and he swung his arms, trying to get his balance. He didn't fall far, as the rope went taunt, and it felt like his leg was going to be ripped out of its socket.

He swung back and forward, in a bit of a daze, as he heard muffled shouts coming from above. The air felt different here, different from the air in the crevice. It seemed more open and fresh.

There were still shouts coming from above, but Flare ignored them and tried to get his bearings. Bending his head backwards, he could see what lay below him. He was surprised to see the torch about five feet below him. The torch was still burning, but the flame was diminished. It was giving out a feeble light that barely lit up the ground around where it lay. Still, it was enough for him to see that it lay on a dusty floor.

He twisted around, and grabbed the rope, pulling his head up almost even with his feet. “I'm okay!” He shouted, relieved when he heard the two guardians stop shouting to listen. “Lower me about another five feet!”

He let go of the rope, and put his hands out in front. Atock slowly lowered him, and Flare watched the ground edge nearer. The blood was rushing to his head, and it wasn't long before his head was aching. At long last, his hands reached the floor, and soon after he was laying on his stomach, panting.

He accidentally sucked in a mouthful of dust, and had a coughing fit. After a moment, it passed and he struggled to a sitting position and removed the rope from his ankle. Shaking a little, he reached out and picked up the torch. Knowing that the other two couldn't see him, he spoke, “Lemnus.” He said the word quietly, but it had an instant affect. The torch had almost gone out, but at his word, it flared up again, lighting up the room in which he sat.

The room was shaped like a boot, and Flare was at one end of the room, and the corner was about fifteen feet away. He couldn't see around the corner, but there wasn't any lights or sounds from the other end of the room. The wall behind him looked more like a cave-in and less like a wall.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted, “Wait a moment! I'm going to take a look around.”

He struggled to his feet, holding the torch out in front of him, he moved slowly around the corner. The room continued for another ten feet, and ended in an arched entrance way. Flare moved forward slowly, and peeked through the archway. A dark hallway ran left to right in front of the archway. The hallway was irregularly shaped, a couple feet wide in some areas, and more than ten feet wide in other spots. The height of the hallway varied in different areas by several feet as well. It was impossible to see where the hallway went, but this had to be the catacombs.

Excitement, followed closely by fear, washed over him. This had to be the catacombs, and that was exciting, but also troubling. Flare returned to the crevice, where the rope hung down the side of the wall.

Once again, he cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted up the crevice. “Tie off the rope, and come down one at a time, but be careful. It gets steep near the end.”

It wasn't long before Philip cautiously slid over the edge of the crevice and Atock lowered him to the ground.

Philip and Flare waited patiently on Atock, and gave him a hand down. It was a little tougher for Atock, since there wasn't any one above to slowly lower him to the ground. Finally, they were all gathered in the small room, with Atock still breathing hard.

“These are the catacombs?” Atock asked.

Flare shrugged, “I don't know what else it could be.” He said, as he led the way around the corner and through the archway.

Flare paused, looking first to the left, and then to the right. The left hand side of the hallway headed downward at a slight angle. The hallway to the right ran up at a slight angle away from them. Neither floor was level, the halls were irregularly shaped and the walls were rough hewn stone. The hallways looked more like tunnels, than stone hallways.

“What do you think?” Flare asked Atock and Philip.

Philip only shrugged in answer, but Atock nodded at the left hand path. “Well, I would think that upwards would take us back out, so down is better.”

Flare considered for a moment, and then nodding started down the left hand side of the hallway. After twenty feet, they came to another archway in the side of the passage. Flare glanced on down the hallway first, but he could only see another ten feet or so and there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Turning back to the archway, Flare cautiously stepped through.

The archway opened into a small room, maybe ten feet by ten feet. In the middle of the room was a small altar. The altar hadn't been used in quite a long time. It was covered in dust, and cobwebs covered the altar and hung down to the floor.

As they entered the room, the altar caught their attention, but that didn't last long. Their attention was quickly drawn to the sides of the room. The walls were covered in little alcoves, little niches. The alcoves were stuffed full of bones. The bones were ancient, and covered with spider webs. A chill ran down Flare's back as the empty eye sockets of countless skulls stared out at them. A skull sat in the middle of every alcove and gave the affect of hundreds of watchers staring at them.

“Gods!” Atock said quietly. “Were these people sacrificed on the altar?”

“No,” Philip answered forcibly. “I think this is a crypt, probably a family crypt.” He motioned at the altar. “Family members probably made offerings on the altar.”

Flare nodded, “Okay. Well, the sword's not in here, so let's get going.” He shivered, “This place gives me the chills.”

They continued on down the hallway, and they passed more rooms like the ones they had already found. Most were crypts, with bones in the alcoves and altars in the middle, but some were just empty rooms. In several of the rooms, the ceilings had collapsed, and they just passed those rooms by.

As much as they hated it, they continued to check out each of the rooms they came across. Each of the crypts seemed creepier than the last, and none of them liked to spend any more time in the crypts than was absolutely necessary. Fairly soon, they did little more than walk into the room, and give it a quick glance, and then walk out.

After a while, the hallway ended in another hallway that branched to the left and right. The one on the right descended slightly, while the on the left had a gradual ascending incline.

Flare stepped into the middle of the new hallway, and looked both ways. “What do you guys think?”

Philip and Atock both considered, looking first one way then the other. Atock spoke first, “I say we keep going down.”

“And when we come to a junction that branches and both sides are level?” Philip asked.

Flare thought for it a moment, “If that happens, then we will always turn right. Agreed?”

Atock and Philip both agreed, nodding their heads vigorously.

They continued walking the hallways for hours, each time they hit a junction, they took the lower passage. After a while, the passages seemed to blur together. A sort of panic slowly settled over Flare, although he did his best not to show it. What if they just wandered these hallways until their food and water ran out? What if they couldn't find a way out?

“I'm exhausted. What do you say to,” Atock said from in front. He was in the lead, and he pulled up short, not even bothering to finish his sentence. “Look at this,” He said quietly.

Philip and Flare moved up beside Atock quickly. The hallway they had been following ended in a large cavernous room. It was roughly circular, and the floor descended in steps to an oval floor, much like a stage. Counting the doorway that they entered through, there was a total of five entrances to the room, the other four also at the top of the steps, but on different sides of the room. The walls of the room were made of a polished stone that reflected the torchlight and enabled their three flickering torches to easily light the cavernous space.