Барб Хенди - Of Truth and Beasts

Chane looked back to the heavy t hôrhk’s two open ends. “They are too blemished, tarnished. But it does have end knobs, rather than being plain and unadorned.”

Wynn looked at him in surprise. Only one type of thôrhk for one of the Bäynæ, the Eternals, had no end knobs of any kind. It was the one given to those honored under Bedzâ’kenge—Feather-Tongue. Although she knew of this practice, she had never seen a thänæ who wore such in her few visits to Dhredze Seatt. How had Chane ever learned such a thing?

Wynn started slightly when she realized Ore-Locks was watching her.

Straightening, she said, “We need to go lower.”

He glanced away, and then he nodded and took the lead, heading south. “In Old Seatt, for my own people, the underways have tunnels out of places like this. Those headed north led to upward connections, while those to the south led to downward ones.”

Wynn blinked. She’d never heard nor read such a thing. Then again, she’d seen nothing of Old Seatt besides its surface atop the mountain that held all of Dhredze Seatt. The newer settlements, like Bay-Side and Sea-Side, had spiral tunnels at the end of all mainways leading both up and down.

Motioning to Chane and Shade, Wynn hurried after Ore-Locks. For once, the dwarf might be truly useful. It bothered her that she was forced to follow someone with his hidden agenda, who could walk through stone and was a potential puppet of some traitorous ancestral spirit.

But it didn’t bother her enough to stop her. It didn’t even slow her down. She had to find the orb.

Ore-Locks headed into a large tunnel in the center of the south wall.

“You think this is the best tunnel?” she asked.

He half turned. “It leads down.”

“Wait,” Chane called, and began pulling blankets, canvas bags, and water skins from his back to pile them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Wynn asked. “Those are all our supplies.”

“I will bring some food and one water skin,” he replied. “But I need to be able to move more freely, for whatever we encounter. We can retrieve all of this on our way out.”

She was tempted to argue, but realized he was right. He kept both his own packs, but their weight was nothing to him. Ore-Locks waited and watched until Chane was ready, and then he headed onward.

Without hesitation, Wynn followed into the broad tunnel.

Still crouched behind the crumbled stairwell, Ghassan had watched Wynn and her companions enter the cavern. Even from a distance, the sight of her surprised him. She looked different, almost beyond travel worn. Her oval face was thinner than when he had last seen her, and she moved so surely, easily scrambling over loose debris. Not once did she accept assistance offered from Chane.

Ghassan remembered Chane and Shade well. In spite of himself, he had some respect for Wynn’s choice of protectors. Ghassan had fought beside the undead and the dog. They were both formidable. The presence of the dwarf, however, made little sense.

Had Wynn hired him as a guide? That seemed unlikely, as this place was well more than a thousand years old.

As the four came closer and passed by, Ghassan studied the dwarf, thinking he bore a resemblance to Domin High-Tower. But where High-Tower was visibly aged, even for a dwarf, the one leading Wynn looked much younger, not as thick, and was clean-shaven ... or at least had been before this journey.

Too many unknown variables convinced Ghassan that he should remain hidden, follow behind, and yet still shield Wynn from the wraith. At present, he did not believe the black spirit would harm her if it had followed her this far.

Soon he lost sight of Wynn’s group as they entered a southern archway. He was forced to creep after, staying out of their awareness. But he struggled with indecision. He could not expose himself to the wraith, so he couldn’t follow Wynn yet and let that creature come behind him. And still, he had no desire to lose track of her now that she had finally arrived.

The wraith drifted out from its hiding place.

The folds of its immaterial black robe shifted in the still air, even as it lingered near the passage Wynn had entered. It waited a long while before suddenly vanishing into the same wide and tall opening.

With the choice made for him, Ghassan quietly followed.

Wynn held her staff in one hand and a cold lamp crystal in the other as she followed Ore-Locks down ... and down.

Chane and Shade brought up the rear, with Chane carrying the second crystal. To Wynn’s relief, neither of them openly argued with her plan to go lower. They were tense and overly watchful, and Chane continually looked behind.

Wynn, as well, wondered if they were still being followed and by whom. She hadn’t forgotten Ore-Locks’s warning when they’d been halted by the cave-in.

The wide tunnel made a slow, curving spiral downward with main exits leading off to various levels, but along the descending way, many other smaller openings and stairways led up or down. Yet Ore-Locks always kept to the curving mainway.

Wynn hoped he had some notion of what he was doing. He was certainly succeeding in taking them to the lower levels, but beyond that, she was at a loss. They continued to step over more decayed remains along the way, and she steeled herself against being lost in sorrow or pity. Beyond taking care not to disturb the bones, she did not look right at them.

Her crystal’s light suddenly exposed a black patch on the wall, and she instinctively flinched and swerved away from it. Chane’s hand settled on her shoulder as Ore-Locks stopped and turned.

His gaze fixed on the black spot as Wynn finally saw what it was.

“Charred,” she said quietly, “like it was burned.”

“Look here,” Chane said.

She spun about and found him on one knee beside a skeleton. Its bones were too long and narrow for a dwarf.

“Human?” she whispered.

Shade whined, and Wynn glanced over to see the dog nosing another set of remains. Wynn could see something covering its rib cage. Chane moved over to crouch beside Shade, and he frowned.

“This one’s leather armor is almost intact.” He looked up at Ore-Locks. “These remains are not nearly as old as the others, but there is char just the same. We are not the first to find this place, but these others never made it out. They only got this far.... And what killed them?”

Ore-Locks’s black irises seemed to swallow any light from the crystals. “Perhaps they argued and killed each other,” he said quietly. “Is that not the way of greed among humans?”

“With their weapons sheathed?” Chane rasped. “And they somehow burned the entire wall first?”

“We don’t have time for this,” Wynn said. “Since we don’t know how they died, we should get moving again ... with our eyes open.”

In spite of her confident words, she pondered Chane’s questions. Ore-Locks turned away and continued onward. Wynn stroked her fingers over Shade’s head.

“We’re close,” she whispered. “We have to keep going.”

To her relief, as she stepped onward, Chane and Shade followed without argument. But she was well aware that Chane was near the breaking point in his zealous overprotection. Perhaps he’d never expected her to get this far, and she had no idea what might happen when he snapped.

The tunnel soon stopped at a wall, with a sharp turn to the right leading down. At the bottom of a stone ramp, they exited into a larger, open tunnel.

“Is this it?” Wynn asked in alarm. “We’ve reached the bottom?”

She could see only one archway ahead and hadn’t expected their descent to simply stop like this.

Ore-Locks moved quickly toward the archway, looking up. She followed with Shade at her heels. There was something carved over the archway in its topmost frame stones. Holding her crystal high, Wynn spotted the remnants of symbols made of complex strokes.