The Third Apprentice (17 page)

Nodding his
understanding, Taren moved forward, taking careful steps to avoid disturbing
the balance further. As he reached the far end, he stretched himself between
the floor and ceiling, and awaited the arrival of his companion.

Zamna walked in a
crouched position, each step landing softly against the unstable floor.
Arriving at his companion’s side, he said, “Now we need to make a dash for it.”

“On three,” Taren
said, still holding up the edge of the ceiling. “One…two…three!” Dropping his
arms, he ran to the exit with Zamna on his heels.

The moment they
reached the doorway, the ceiling and floor came together with a thunderous
clap. The opposite end of the room reacted with its own crash as the two slabs
were forced together.

“That would have
smashed us like ants,” Taren commented, staring back at the slabs. “Why didn’t
you warn us?” Stepping close to the skeleton, he awaited a response.

His question was
met with silence. Without a word, the bone man turned his back to the travelers
and led them deeper inside the compound.

“Are you sure we
can trust him?” Zamna asked.

Taren shook his
head. He had only the word of the Sisters to go by. This was definitely the
same creature he had seen in his vision. If they believed him to be a sign of
good, that meant he would lead them to their final destination. “We don’t have
much choice,” he said. “Without him we’d be wandering here for days or longer. There
might be far worse traps if we stray from the correct route.”

Zamna grumbled
under his breath but kept his comments to himself. The mage made a valid point,
but he was still wary of trusting a creature who would not offer any warning of
the danger ahead. Of course they had entered expecting danger, so it was
reasonable to assume there would be plenty of it. The only thing lacking was
treasure. How long had they been inside? There had been no sign of anything
gold or silver. Stone, dust, and bones were all they’d seen so far. If Ailwen’s
tomb contained no treasure, he would take out his frustrations on the bone man.
The thought brought a smile to his scaly lips.

T
he skeletal
figure led them down a long passage, turning several times as the intersecting
tunnels meandered along their way. It proved impossible for the companions to
keep their bearings as they marched along, ever watching for the next obstacle
in their path. The bone man walked on in silence, having spoken no words since
their first encounter near the entrance. Only the sound of his creaking bones
and the footsteps of the travelers filled the emptiness of the forgotten compound.
Somewhere ahead lay the remains of the most reviled sorceress of her time. Mostly
forgotten, no others had an interest in visiting this remote location. Thoughts
of the symbol filled Taren’s mind as he sensed himself moving closer and closer
to completing his goal.

Finally their path wound through to another room,
this one lacking the stone floor they had become accustomed to. Instead, the
ground was covered in a soft, black soil, and the walls appeared slick and wet.
Vibrantly colored mushrooms grew in perfectly ordered rows, thriving in the
darkness that normally filled this space. Taren’s recycled magic illuminated
the room, bringing light to plants that had likely never been exposed to it.

Taren had never seen such colorful mushrooms
before. They seemed to glow with an unearthly light, and in nature,
fluorescent-colored things usually meant trouble. Though he had no intention of
eating one, he took a moment to examine the fungi more closely. The bone man
waited patiently at the exit, still not saying a word. Taren leaned down next
to a bundle of mushrooms and inhaled. They smelled of nothing except freshly tended
earth. In fact, the scent was appealing. It almost made him want to taste them.

Zamna came to his side with a warning. “I wouldn’t
touch those,” he said. “Everything else here has tried to harm or kill us.
These likely aren’t any different.”

Nodding his agreement, the mage said, “I bet whoever
put these here hoped we’d be hungry after our long walk and take a bite.
There’s little chance these are not poisonous.”

“Probably the most poisonous substance in all N
ō
l’Deron,” Zamna
commented. Realizing what he’d just said, he thought the mushrooms could prove
an excellent tool for an assassin. He nearly asked if there might be harm in
taking a few before remembering that his days in that line of work were nearly
at an end. Once they reached the burial site, he hoped to find treasure enough
to allow him to retire. No more killing meant no more poisoning.

“I’d like to take a few for study,” Taren said.
“Though, I’m not sure I want to touch them.” As he looked more closely, he saw
tiny beads of a milky substance on the caps of the mushrooms. Clearly they were
poisonous, possibly lethal to the touch. Deciding it was best to leave them
alone, he rose and rejoined his skeleton guide.

Moving out into the corridor, Zamna said, “Hey, at
least nothing jumped out to grab us in there.” He hissed softly with laughter.

Taren chuckled a little as well. There had been no
odd mushroom beast, angry that they were invading his farm. No menacing gnomes
had threatened them for entering their garden. So far, the mushroom area had
proved the least deadly of the non-empty rooms they’d passed through.

Turning sharply to the left, the corridor led them
into a tiny room with no obvious signs of traps. Barely larger than a closet,
it held nothing except dust. Continuing along their way, they entered another
tunnel, this time turning off to the right. After several minutes, they
wondered when they would emerge on the other side. This had to be the longest
corridor they had entered thus far. The lamps along the wall did not illuminate
far enough ahead to see the end, and Taren was starting to worry. To his
relief, a few minutes more brought them to an opening.

A vast room spread out before them, empty except
for a stone pillar at its center. The two men instinctively lowered themselves,
crouching near the ground and bracing themselves for a blast of magic. No such
attack came, though. The two men dared to stand upright, facing the pillar. At
first glance, Taren was sure he would have to dodge a sudden attack. Further
observation, however, showed him otherwise. The top of the pillar had crumbled
over time, and it was no longer sturdy enough to house the gemstone. Instead,
the sparkling blue gem lay on the floor, half covered with debris.

Zamna’s eye fell on the sparkling sapphire. “Looks
like our luck is changing,” he commented with a grin. Finally he might get his
hands on something valuable.

“Indeed,” Taren agreed. “This pillar probably
would have tried to drown us. That is, if it had been in working condition.” He
strode forward boldly to examine the worn surface of the pillar. It appeared
that a chunk of ceiling had fallen from above and crashed onto the pillar at
some point. It was sturdy at the base but too weak at its narrow top to
withstand such a blow. The area that once held the gem had been obliterated.

Zamna stepped forward cautiously and knelt down
next to the pillar. Brushing away the crumbled stones, he retrieved the gem.
After wiping the dust on his pants, he lifted the stone to his mouth and bit
down. Though he couldn’t speak for the quality, the hardness betrayed it as a
genuine sapphire. Raising his eye ridges, he looked up at his companion. “You
think Boney will mind if I take a souvenir?”

Taren shrugged and looked at their skeleton guide.
He stood firm, facing away from the travelers. Still no words escaped his
mouth. If he was upset by the theft, he certainly wasn’t showing it. It
appeared the stone was of no consequence to him.

Zamna tucked the precious gem into a pocket and
motioned that he was ready to proceed. With the skeleton leading the way, they
entered into a wide corridor, this one sloping downward as they continued on. The
air became cooler and slightly damp, as if they had entered a cave. As the path
proceeded lower, they realized they must now be underground.

Taren’s heart was pounding in his ears, his
anxiety rising. They must be extremely close now. He could almost feel the
surface of the symbol in his hand. It could be in his grasp within minutes.
Whispering to his companion, he asked, “Does it feel different in here to you?”

Zamna sniffed the air. “I think the air is
staler,” he replied. “It smells like rotting. There probably hasn’t been a
living person down here for hundreds of years.” After a brief pause, he added,
“It reminds me a little of that pit I was thrown in back in Yilde.”

“What I meant was, do you sense anything?” Taren
wondered if the symbol would cry out to anyone who was nearby, even if the
person had no magical abilities.

“Like what?” Zamna wondered. “I don’t get the
feeling I’m being watched, if that’s what you mean.”

“A presence, a person, anything,” Taren said. “I
feel like we’re nearly there.”

Zamna shrugged. “You must have a sense I lack,” he
said. “If I could detect magic, I wouldn’t have stepped on that trap and got
myself into trouble.” Though he did rely on intuition at times, he preferred to
rely on the facts before him. Anything he could see, smell, or hear was
important, and he made a point of taking in his surroundings at all times. An
assassin always had to be on guard. This tomb felt empty and nothing more.

From the depths of the tomb, Taren could swear he
heard the symbol crying out to him. Undisturbed for centuries, it would soon
know life again. In the hands of Master Imrit, it would work incredible feats
of magic. It had to be there, waiting for him ahead in the darkness.

Waiting patiently for someone to claim it, the
symbol had locked its powers away. Taren could hold it in his hands this very
day. All his thoughts focused on the symbol and how it would feel to finally
retrieve it. How long would it take to return home? Would Imrit be able to
sense it when the symbol was finally in the hands of his apprentice? Taren
doubted it, but in secret, he hoped it was true. He could picture Imrit in his
study, surrounded by books and scrolls. As the old man studied away, a notion
would creep into his mind. He would behold a vision of Taren, symbol in hand.
What pride the old man would feel in his apprentice. Young Taren, the boy he
had practically raised, was now Master Taren.

Taren’s reverie was broken by a small furry
creature brushing against his leg. It let out a shrill shriek, and the mage
nearly did as well. Turning to see what it was, he watched as a rat scurried
past him, heading upward along the sloping corridor. Zamna flashed the young
mage a grin, his spikey teeth glistening in the pale light.

The stone floor continued sloping downward, and
the light grew dimmer as they descended lower into the earth. How far they had
gone, Taren couldn’t tell. The skeleton man said nothing, only continued along
his way, never stopping or altering his pace. There was little choice but to
follow until they reached the bottom.

Moving deeper along, a pungent smell emitted from
below them. The skeletal guide was unfazed, but both Zamna and Taren grimaced
at the horrible stench.

“Rotten eggs?” Taren asked.

“Maybe a poisonous gas,” Zamna suggested. “Maybe
it’s a new way to try to get rid of us.”

It was highly possible they would encounter
another trap. Their long journey through the descending corridor had been so
far uneventful. They felt overdue for an attack. Stepping more cautiously as
they went, the duo was prepared for anything.

“We have to be getting close,” Taren said. “I’d
ask our guide, but he doesn’t seem to be much of a talker.”

“That’s an understatement,” Zamna replied.
“Skeleton, are we almost out of this passageway?”

The skeleton said nothing. His creaking bones
continued to move ahead, still sending up faint plumes of dust from time to
time. Zamna shook his head. If he was truly leading them where they needed to
go, then there was little need for him to speak. His guidance was enough in
this vast labyrinth of stone structures. He had already saved them days of
searching, so let him be silent if that was his desire.

After what seemed like an eternity, the path leveled
off. An opening appeared before them, though it was not in the shape of a
doorway like the others. This was a wide, irregular-shaped opening, similar to
a cave mouth. The light became stronger again at this point, but soon it veered
off, losing itself inside the massive room before them. It spread seemingly for
miles in each direction. The yellow-tinged ceilings were adorned with giant stalactites
wearing coats of shining white. They sparkled amid the dimly lit cavern, bringing
beauty to the somber stillness inside.

Beneath their feet, the ground crunched audibly.
It was coated in white as well, and tiny bits of mineral detached as their
boots struck the ground. There were stalagmites of all size, ranging from one
inch to several feet in length, though they were not as brightly colored as
their counterparts on the ceiling. They wore a shade of tan upon the white,
providing some variety to the room’s décor. In some spots, the ceiling and
floor connected with columns, most of them too wide for Taren to wrap his arms
around. This place was indeed ancient, having formed when the world was still
young. Stepping inside this cavern was like stepping into history and
witnessing firsthand the beauty that lay trapped far below the feet of humans and
elves.

Deeper in the cavern, they discovered large pools
of a turquoise liquid that yellowed as they came in contact with the minerals
surrounding it. This was the source of the smell they had first encountered in
the passageway. The pools bubbled and steamed with no visible source of heat.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” Zamna
asked, staring into one of the pools.

Taren shook his head, not taking his eyes away
from the liquid. “I suspect these are filled with sulfur, or some compound
composed of it.” He leaned down and held a hand above the pool, feeling the
heat on his hand. “They must be heated by magma below us. This area is
volcanic.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t plan to erupt any time
soon,” Zamna commented.

“I could be wrong,” Taren said. “It’s possible
they have been exposed to some magic that heats them. I’ve never read about
such pools existing inside a cave.” Being in a cursed land meant that things
were not necessarily as they seemed. In curiosity, he picked up a handful of
small yellow rocks that had shaken loose from the ceiling and tossed them into
the pool. In an instant, they vaporized, leaving no trace behind.

“We’d better watch our step,” Zamna warned. “I
wouldn’t want to trip and land in that.”

From the corner of his eye, Zamna spotted movement
along the white cave floor. Camouflaged perfectly was a four-inch-long creature
with a slender torso and elongated arms and legs. Moving in for a closer look,
he realized its skin was translucent, and the veins inside its body were clearly
visible. Motioning for his companion to take a look, he marveled at the unique
being before him.

“Is it an amphibian?” Taren asked, kneeling down
next to it. In all his studies, he had never run across a creature quite like
this.

Zamna shrugged. He moved no closer for fear of
frightening the animal, though it seemed completely unbothered by his presence.
Only once did it pause its motion and turn its head to one side. It had large,
fanlike ears and a wide mouth, but no eyes could be seen on its face. Slowly it
crept away from the pair, going about whatever business it had to do. The
intruders in his home were of no interest.

Heading deeper inside the cavern, they beheld a
network of swinging bridges where one could walk safely about the growing
number of sulfur pools. The bone man led on, stopping abruptly as he reached
the first bridge. The pair paused and exchanged glances, wondering why the
skeleton had stopped.