Voyage of the Fox Rider (64 page)
Still the main corridor continued to slope up and curve to the right, the echoes of the ocean fading as they went. And still Aravan’s amulet continued to gather cold unto itself as they pressed onward, denoting that they drew nearer to peril.
Some four hundred fifty feet onward, again they came to a junction, one corridor bearing left and the other straight ahead. Both passages were level, but as to which was the main route, they could not say. A faint bluish light, however, shone down the corridor to the left.
“Let me hold your amulet, Aravan,” whispered Aylis.
Aravan slipped the thong over his head and handed the stone to Aylis.
“Unde?”
she murmured, closing her eyes. Slowly she turned, until she was facing down the left passage. Opening her eyes, she handed the amulet back to Aravan. “It comes from that passage,” she said, pointing.
“How about the right hand way?” muttered Bokar. “I would rather not go into peril without knowing what lies behind us.”
Now Aylis faced the dark passage.
“Patefac vitam patibilem,”
she murmured, then shook her head. “No
Bokar jerked his head at Brekka and Dokan, gesturing at Jinnarin’s clump of shadow as well, and down the right-hand corridor sped the scouts.
As they approached they could hear the sound of running water, and they came into a large gathering hall, where there were tables and benches sized to fit Trolls as well as Rucha and Loka. Rotten bits of food were scattered about, and along one wall stood a trough and water trickled out from the stone wall to fill it, the overflow spilling down through a crack in the floor. “A mess hall,” growled Brekka.
Two passageways split out from the back of this huge chamber, a small one to the right and down, a larger one level and left. While Dokan explored the left-hand way, Brekka and Jinnarin and Rux sped down the small corridor to the right. As they went down, Jinnarin could hear the sound of waves lapping against stone. They came to another split, a barred door standing ajar to the left, an open passage to the right. Glancing at Brekka, down the right-hand way they sped, coming into a chamber, and a stench was mingled with the smell of the sea. A filth-laden crevice jagged across the floor, feces lining the lip, and they could hear the ocean swashing far below. “Ugh,” muttered Brekka, “this is a Grg privy.”
Back to the barred doorway they went, and inside they found another chamber, this one with rotted straw pallets scattered about. A thin, feces-lined crevice jagged through this floor, too, the sound of waves splashing in its depths. Jinnarin looked at Brekka. “Prisoners, captives, most likely were kept here,” he growled, jerking his head back toward the barred door.
Back to the gathering hall they went, telling Dokan what they had found. For his part, Dokan jerked a thumb toward the way he had explored. “A cookery,” he growled. “Vent cracks up into the stone above.”
Brekka threw the shutter on his lantern wide and looked upward. The
kwarc
-laden ceiling also showed vent cracks overhead. “Ha. I suspect it is the same throughout, the swash of the lagoon acting as a great pump to exchange the air.”
Back to the waiting party they fared, reporting all to
Bokar. The armsmaster nodded and then turned to Aravan and gestured at the left-hand corridor, faint blue light shining down the glittering way. “Well, Captain, let us go see what evil it is your stone detects.”
Into the passage they went, each treading silently, Brekka and Dokan and a moving cluster of shadow in the lead, the sound of the ocean all but lost in the darkness behind. A hundred feet they fared, passing a large area on the left filled with crates and bales and barrels. “Supplies,” hissed Brekka, as they went past. Another hundred fifty feet they fared, the light ahead growing brighter, and once again they passed a cache of goods stowed in a hollow on the left. Now they came toward an opening into a chamber from which the bluish light glowed. Brekka stopped them a few paces away and quietly breathed, “Take care, for this is not daylight we see, nor do I think it is lantern light, but something else altogether.”
Jinnarin whispered. “It looks like a casting of magelight, like Alamar makes.”
A soft voice whispered right behind. It was Aravan crept upon them unnoticed in his Elven stealth. “’Ware. My stone is icy chill. I ween the peril lies within.”
Behind came the force of Châkka, and with them, Aylis.
Aravan looked at her then jerked his head toward the lighted chamber.
“Patefac vitam patibilem,”
she muttered, then nodded, whispering, “Take care, there is
“I will see,” hissed Jinnarin, and the scant cluster of shadow crept toward the opening.
With her heart pounding, Jinnarin and Rux eased forward, and slowly a side of the chamber came into view. Jinnarin gasped in astonishment, for the ceiling and walls were made up completely of foot-wide, yard-long shafts of crystal—six-sided, blunt-pointed steles closely packed and jutting out at random angles into the room. The uneven floor was transparent crystal as well, as if there once had been huge crystals jutting up here, too, but ones that had been broken away and the surface crudely adzed. And all was permeated with a blue light that seemed to emanate from the very air. And as Rux crept closer, a rune slowly came into Jinnarin’s view, its form
hacked in the floor, the shape somehow jarring to the senses, almost as if it were writhing obscenely even though it was fixed in rough crystal.
Rux took an additional step or two, and more corrupt runes slid into view and caught at her eyes, the scribings malignant in their very shapes. Now she could see that to the left the floor jagged down toward the unseen center of the room.
Jinnarin glanced back over her shoulder. Behind crept Dokan and Brekka, while all the others waited.
With her heart hammering in her breast, Jinnarin turned back toward the crystalline room and urged Rux forward, the fox stepping to the doorway. Again Jinnarin caught her breath, for the chamber was huge, circular, fully two hundred feet across and lined with great sparkling crystals. The rough-cut floor formed a large, shallow hollow, and Jinnarin could now see down to the center where on a raised dais, or perhaps an altar, lay—
“Farrix!” she shrieked, the shadow dropping away from her and Rux, fox and Pysk now standing revealed. “Farrix!” she cried again, and into the room she plunged.
HAPTER
29
The Crystal Chamber
Spring, 1E9575
[The Present]
K
ruk!” spat Brekka, leaping toward the doorway after Jinnarin, Dokan on his heels, crossbows up and ready, while through the shadow behind came Aravan running, with Bokar and the warband flying after.
Into the crystal chamber they poured, spreading wide, eyes darting this way and that, seeking foe. Following Jinnarin, Brekka and Dokan dashed down across the rough-cut crystal floor and toward the central dais, where Pysk and fox had gotten to, Rux just then leaping upon the altar, a great crystal block.
Jinnarin flung herself from Rux’s back and down to her knees at Farrix’s side, crying out his name. But Farrix moved not, the black-haired, leather-clad Pysk lying motionless on his back, and his chest did not stir with the breath of life. Dread filling her soul, Jinnarin pressed her ear to Farrix’s breast, listening for a heartbeat, finding none. And she rocked back on her knees and raised her face to the ceiling and keened a silent wail, her face twisted into grief beyond measure. And Rux whined and turned about in indecision, and bared his teeth and growled as others drew near.
Brekka and Dokan had come to the central dais, as well as Aravan, and they took a defensive stance about the altar. And still Dwarves poured inward through the doorway.
Bokar reached Aravan’s flank. “Another opening,” he
barked, pointing up to the side of the chamber, where, a third of the way around the room, a slit of a doorway yawned pitch-dark along the crystal wall. The armsmaster turned to Aravan. “What says your amulet, Captain?”
“It is deadly chill—peril is nigh,” answered Aravan, his eyes seeking foe, finding none.
“Kelek!” Bokar called his second in command.
As Kelek made his way down to Bokar, Aylis and Alamar entered the crystalline room, the elder pausing at the runes scribed in the transparent stone floor. “Gyphon!” he hissed, then looked up and about. “This is a temple to Gyphon.”
Now all the Dwarves had come into the chamber, followed by the Men, weapons clutched in white-knuckled hands…all but Jatu’s. And they spread across the crystalline stone glittering in the blue light.
Aravan motioned Jatu unto him, the black Man striding down into the shallow hollow, Aylis at his side. When they came to the crystal block, both looked upon Jinnarin and sorrow flooded their eyes. Jatu reached out to Jinnarin in her agony, but then withdrew his hand, for now was not the time to comfort the grieving—that would come later. Tears ran freely down Aylis’s face, the seeress weeping, yet she too knew that solace would have to wait.
Leaving the runes at the doorway behind, Alamar hobbled down to the center. He gazed at Jinnarin beside the still form of Farrix, and a grave look of deep sadness crossed his face. But he shook his head, and ignoring Rux’s growlings, he began examining the altar, muttering unto himself.
“Blood channels. Sacrificial. Damn Durlok! This is his slaughter house, or one of them.…” Still muttering, he backed away, peering at the writhing runes scribed here and there in the floor. “…Damn Gyphon!…”
Jerking his head toward the second opening, Aravan said, “Jatu, there are yet passages to follow to their ends, seeking the peril my stone warns of. Even so, I would have thee and the Men remain here at Lady Jinnarin’s side, warding her, while the rest of us press on.”
“Aye, Captain,” said Jatu, looking about, motioning the Men to his side.
Aravan turned to Aylis. “My Lady, I need thee to search for life where we fare.”
Aylis nodded, then followed Aravan as he and Bokar and Kelek and the rest of the warband moved toward the narrow opening in the wall, ebon-dark—not even the blue light seemed to shine through. All paused while Aylis stood before the doorway and cast her spell. Of a sudden, she jerked. “Blocked!” she hissed.
Upon hearing these words, Alamar looked up from one of the runes he was examining.
“Visus!”
muttered the elder, peering at the darkness just as Bokar stepped to the black opening, axe raised. “Wait, Bokar! It is trapped!” Alamar cried. At Alamar’s words, all stepped back a pace or two.
While everyone waited, the eld Mage hobbled up to the doorway, and hissing and mumbling, he ran his hands around the verge of the opening. Nodding sharply unto himself, he stepped back and raised a hand and called out,
“Resera!”
and the darkness vanished. Cackling aloud, “Try to stop
me
, would he?” Alamar stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture to Aylis. “It’s all yours, Daughter. But should you encounter another such, come for me. I must examine these runes.” Alamar stumped to the nearest of them and bent over it, muttering and stroking his beard.
Once again Aylis stood before the doorway and murmured,
“Patefac vitam patibilem,”
then turned to Aravan and Bokar and said, “No
The narrow corridor they entered slowly widened as they went, and some fifty feet down the hallway, Brekka and Dokan entered a room. By the blue light shining from the crystal chamber behind, they could see that the room was large, with tables scattered here and there, alembics and astrolabes and burners and vials and other such strewn upon them. Jars of powders and flasks of liquid sat here and there, as well as stone urns filled with colored minerals. Too, there were clear glass vessels
containing things which had once been alive—small furry animals and birds and reptiles and amphibians, some dissected, others not…and additional containers held hearts and livers and cold staring eyes and other such vital organs—all were stored in liquid. In the center of the chamber hanging down from the roof was a large, crystalline stalactite, and glistening water seeped down its sides to fill a small darkling pool cupped in a modest hollow in the floor. Along the crystalline walls stood shelves, with tomes and scrolls and piles of parchment stored thereupon. And sitting about on the floor were mechanisms made of gears and wire and metal frameworks. Yet Brekka and Dokan did not stop to examine any of these wares, noting instead that another opening loomed along the right-hand wall. Toward this way they went, as others of the warband came into the room behind, Aylis among them.
“This is a Mage’s laboratory.” she muttered, glancing about, then she made her way to the opening where waited the scouts.
“Visus,”
she murmured first, and then,
“Patefac vitam patibilem,”
and she concentrated on the dark way ahead. “Nothing.”
