Mercer asked, “Toward the sound of wind? Or the dripping?”
“At this point, one way is as good as another,” Trix said.
“Any idea which way we went when we ran from the worm?” Cinder asked.
Drake shook his head.
Mercer said, “West, I think.”
“You’re sense of direction is better than mine,” Trix admitted.
“Let’s follow the air,” said Mercer, and he started across the hall of pillars, picking his way around huge piles of rubble. They hadn’t gone far when Drake’s light fell on the yellowed remains of a skeleton. A grinning skull stared up at them from the floor and a steel long sword lay near one out flung arm. The skeleton’s legs were smashed beneath a chunk of rock. Mercer scooped up the blade, tested the metal with a flick of his finger, and nodded approvingly. Trix sifted through the moldering remains and found a good leather curiass, along with four hundred and two Byte, which they split. Drake won the extra in a toss of the dice.
Mercer handed the leather jacket to Cinder. “Put this on.”
Her face bunched. “I’m not putting on a dead man’s clothes.”
“It could be a dead woman,” Mercer pointed out.
“You missed the point,” she said. “It belongs to a dead person.”
“You missed the point,” said Mercer. “It might save your life. Put it on.”
She snatched the leather shirt from him and gave it a good shake. A few chips of bone fell out and tumbled over the floor. There was no dried blood or gristle and only a faint whiff of decay. Mostly it smelled like a room full of molding books.
“How does this work?” Cinder asked, looking at the buckles.
Trix showed her how to slip the armor on over her riding shirt so that the cotton would protect her skin, then tightened the buckles until the leather jerkin threatened to cut off her air.
“That’s plenty tight,” Cinder told her.
“You don’t want it to jostle around when you move,” Trix said. “Otherwise it will chaff. Trust me.”
Cinder wished she had a mirror handy. With the leather armor, tight leggings, knee-high boots, and a sword buckled at her waist, she must look like a proper adventurer. If only the other tellers at the bank could see her now. What would they say? Would they even recognize her? Probably not. The timid girl who had cowered at the thought of pirates was long gone. In fact, pirates were preferable to giant worms, hordes of skeletons, and life-sucking phantoms. Cinder squared her shoulders and presented herself to the group. Drake winked and Mercer nodded approval. Cinder’s mouth twitch up in a grin.
“Let’s get moving,” Mercer said. “We’ve got a long walk ahead. Who knows how far it is to the other side.”
That thought put a cold weight of apprehension in Cinder’s belly. Despite the new armor, the dark and the oppressive silence were starting to wear on her. Shadows seemed to press in and her ears pricked up at the smallest sound, like her senses were working overtime in the dark. The constant state of alarm was straining her nerves. She wondered how long she could keep it up before suffering a nervous breakdown.
Mercer led a circuitous path through the rubble in search of the exit. They hadn’t gone far when he put a foot down and they heard a mechanical click. The paving stone beneath his foot sank a fraction of a centimeter under his weight. He froze. His shoulder muscles bunched up and he glanced around. Cinder, at the back of the group, stopped and winced at the sudden noise. Her heart crowded up into her throat. Her eyes tried to be everywhere at once, looking for danger.
At first nothing happened, then they heard a low rumble, like heavy stones grinding together, and a loud crack, which echoed around the chamber. The ground trembled beneath their feet. A nearby pillar cracked, then buckled, separated from the ceiling, and started to collapse. A large portion of the roof gave way with a thunderous sound.
“Run,” Mercer shouted, but his voice was lost in the rumble of falling rock.
Cinder didn’t need to be told. Her slim legs darted forward, one step behind her racing heart. Panic drove her like a deer before a raging wildfire. She leapt small piles of rubble and sprinted around the larger mounds. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth stretched open in a wordless scream. Massive slabs of stone crashed down, impacting the floor with terrific force. Smaller rocks whistled past her ears, shattering at her feet. Jagged chips attacked her cheeks and arms. Her heel triggered another booby trap. She couldn’t hear the click, but she felt the mechanical lever give beneath her foot and another pillar fractured with a yawning voice. Stone calved from the roof overhead. Cinder dodged a pile of rubble, narrowly avoiding being crushed, and then turned and mounted the heap. Her fingers sought purchase amid the jagged edges and sharp points bit her knees as she scrambled up the jumble of stone.
She caught a brief glimpse of Drake, his staff raised overhead and the end glowing fiercely while Trix huddled at his feet, before a tidal wave of rock came crashing down. Shadows folded around her, shutting out the light.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Cinder hunkered atop the pile of rock, her shoulders drawn up around her ears, waiting for the avalanche to stop. Falling stones continued to slam down with earth shaking force and Cinder clapped her hands over her ears to shut out the noise. It went on, crashing and thundering, until she thought the sound would drive her mad. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, the avalanche stopped and a hush settled over the chamber. Thick dust hung in the air, clogging her nose and making it difficult to get a decent breath. She sat there for several minutes in the dark and the quiet, listening for any sign of life, but all she heard was her own tortured breathing and a high-pitched ringing in her ears.
She opened her eyes and blinked, but there was only blackness. Waving a hand in front of her own face resulted in nothing but a feeling of dislocation. She could feel her hand moving but could not see it.
A few loose stones shifted and Cinder cringed, expecting another collapse. But it was only rock settling into new piles. She said, “Mercer?”
There was no answer.
“Trix? Drake?” she said. Her voice sounded small and terrified in her own ears. “Anybody?”
When no one responded, she slowly rose to her feet and balanced atop the pile for a look. Darkness stretched in every direction. It was like being a blind woman and hoping for a miracle, but there was nothing to see. Nothing but black. Cinder let out a hopeless whimper and crouched back down.
What could she do? Where were the others? Dead? Drake and Trix had been crushed beneath a massive slab and Mercer wasn’t responding. That left her alone in the dark, trapped in this awful place full of giant worms and God only knows what else. What now? What could she do? She would die here!
A fresh wave of panic and fear gripped her with cruel fingers. She would die, trapped and starving, just like the miners in Thunderside. Why had they tried to go through the mountains? Tears welled up in Cinder’s eyes and she mopped them with the heel of her hand. Trix was right. They should have gone over the mountains and dealt with the cold. Anything was better than starving to death in the dark. But maybe she wouldn’t starve. Maybe the worm would be along to eat her. Surely it had heard the rending crash of falling stones and would come along to investigate. Drake’s spell to lock the door might have drawn other beasts even more terrible. A powerful tremor shook Cinder’s boney frame at the thought of being eaten alive. She wouldn’t even be able to see it coming. She wouldn’t know it was there until she felt teeth ripping her flesh.
Oh God, she thought. What should I do?
What could she do? Not much. She had her short sword and her saddlebags with enough rations for several days. Her waterskin was mostly full. After that, all she could do was wait. She might be able to climb down off the pile and feel her way to the wall. If she was careful maybe she could make it back to the door they had entered and retrace her steps. Back through the passage to the room where the worm had attacked, around the corner to the intersection, and from there
it was mostly a straight shot to the stairs that would take her out of Eternal Night. The thought of going up the stairs in the dark left a sick feeling in the pit of her belly. She envisioned herself tripping on the risers and eating a mouthful of stone.
But maybe you don’t have to do it blind!
Light! Cinder realized what she really needed was light. She cupped her hands together, closed her eyes, and concentrated, focusing all her attention on a single point in the palms of her hands. For a long time nothing happened. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears and occasionally loose rock shifted. Feeling around, she found a spot where she could sit, folded her legs, and cupped her hands, trying hard to remember Drake’s instructions. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but at last, a single point of light, dim and wavering, took shape in her palms, driving back the dark.
Her eyes snapped open and she nearly shouted in triumph. Careful, ever so careful not to lose her concentration, Cinder transferred the ball of light into her right hand and then poured in a little more of her willpower. The sphere pulsed and swelled into a tiny globe of white light, nowhere near as powerful or bright as Drake’s, but enough that she could see the mass of rock upon which she sat. She raised her hand high and her dim light revealed the area around her island. It was enough to see, and maybe make her way back to the entrance. If she went slowly and carefully.
No one has ever made it out of Eternal Night alive, the little voice inside her brain reminded her. That’s what Trix had said.
No reason I can’t be the first, Cinder thought. Just have to make it back to the door.
She raised up for a look and realized she had no idea which way to go. She turned in the direction she had last seen Drake and Trix. At least, she thought it was where she had seen them. She hoped. Moving carefully, Cinder climbed down the pile of rubble and put one foot on the floor. When it didn’t trigger an avalanche, she put the other foot down and tested her weight. So far so good.
Now you just have to make it all the way back to the hall, assuming you are headed in the right direction.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Mercer awoke with a groan, shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and winced. Movement was pain. Dust filled his lungs. He was laying in rubble. His ankle throbbed, a rough edge was biting into his ribs, and his skull felt like someone had used it for a drum. His finger went to his forehead and came away slick with blood. He couldn’t see, but he could smell the coppery scent.
When the roof had started coming down, Mercer had sprinted across the floor, triggering two more traps and narrowly avoiding a huge slab of crashing stone before the light started to dwindle. A quick glance over his shoulder was enough to realize everyone had run in opposite directions and the look back cost him. His shins had slammed into stone and he pitched forward. He must have hit his head because that’s the last he remembered.
With no way to tell time in the dungeon, there was no telling how long he had laid there unconscious. It might have been minutes or hours. And he had no way of knowing what had happened to his friends. He could feel the weight of his pack on his back and that was something. Slowly, carefully, he shifted his weight and sat up. It was a painful experience, every muscle in his body screamed. He felt like a ninety-year-old man, but nothing seemed broken.
Far as he could tell, his backpack was still intact. Experience had taught Mercer to pack his gear the same way every time, and now that habit paid off. He worked the buckle in the dark and felt around for his flint and a small torch. The head of the torch was coated in pitch and a few sparks was enough to set it ablaze. The fire flickered to life, bathing him in a warm glow. It wasn’t the same brilliant white of Drake’s staff, but it let him see a dozen feet in every direction. He probed his aching head again. There was a gash on his forehead and the blood was mostly dry, which meant he had been laying there awhile. Several minutes, if not longer.
He shrugged his pack back onto his shoulders, slipped his axe from his belt loop, and climbed to his feet. He didn’t bother calling out in the dark. If anyone else had survived the cave-in, they’d be making a noise to wake the dead. His gut told him everyone else was dead and he had survived by dumb luck. His decision to go through the mountain had ended in disaster, and his only hope now was that he could find a passageway out before he crossed paths with something nasty in the dark. He wondered if Cinder would log back in and doubted it. His only hope at finding the ten million had just been crushed beneath several tons of falling rock. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Trix thought she heard someone call out in the dark but couldn’t be sure. Her ears were still ringing from the earth-shattering impacts. She sat with her back against a hunk of rock and Drake’s head in her lap. Dust clogged her throat and tears ran down her cheeks. She searched in the dark, found her waterskin, took a long drink, and then used some to wash out her eyes.
Drake had saved both of their lives. When the ceiling started to rain down, he raised his staff straight overhead and shouted a command. Terrified, Trix hunkered where she stood and waited to die. There was a flash of intense light and the falling stone impacted an invisible dome with earsplitting shrieks. The ground shook beneath her feet. Trix covered her ears and screamed as the pillars continued to slam down on Drake’s shield. His frail body trembled with the strain and he went down to his knees. His teeth clenched and his lips pulled back in a grimace of intense concentration. Huge chunks of stone pounded the invisible dome and broke apart with artillery blasts, sending shrapnel whistling in every direction. Trix thought this must be what it was like in war, with bombs going off. The air was super charged with electricity and her hair stood on end.
Drake held the protective spell as long as he could, then his spindly arm fell. His staff slipped from limp fingers and clattered across the floor, and his body slumped. The invisible dome collapsed in on itself, slamming Trix to the ground and knocking the air from her lungs.
Darkness closed in around her and Trix lay there, not knowing if anyone else was alive or what to do next. It was several minutes before she got her wits back. She wanted to scream, but that would only attract attention and there was no telling what lurked in the shadows. Instead, she reached out one trembling hand, found Drake, and checked for a pulse. He was still alive and still breathing, but she couldn’t rouse him. There was nothing she could do but wait, so she had found a rock to put her back against and laid his head in her lap, waiting for him to come around.
Far away to her right, Trix thought she saw a faint glimmer in the deeper black, but she blinked a few times and it was gone. Had she heard someone calling out? Hard to say. Mostly she heard a constant dial tone in her ears that was starting to drive her mad. Sometime later, she glimpsed a flash of red that might have been a glowing eye. Her pulse quickened. She sat up a little straighter and strained to see. She was just starting to think it was her imagination when, closer at hand, a feeble light pushed back the shadows.
One hand strayed to her sword hilt. Trix tried to whisper, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She licked dry lips and tried again. Her voice came out a barely audible hiss. “Merc? Is that you?”
There was no response. Or if there was, she didn’t hear it. She slipped her curved sword halfway out of the scabbard and raised her voice a few octaves. “Who’s there?”
Slowly, she removed Drake’s head from her lap, drew her blade, and rose to a crouch. If she was going to die—for the third time, she reminded herself—she was going to die fighting.
A dancing orange light played over the floor, getting closer, and then Mercer appeared from behind a heap of stone. He had his axe in one hand and a torch held overhead. He was going slow, checking the ground with his toes before putting his weight down.
“Merc!” Trix called out. “Over here!”
His head swiveled in her direction and his eyes narrowed. He was still too far away to see her and would have walked right past her in the dark. His brow creased. “Trix?”
“Yeah,” she called ba
ck.
“Cinder with you?”
“No, but Drake is here.”
“Where are you?” Mercer asked, holding his torch aloft. “I can’t see you.”
“Turn,” Trix told him. “No other way, clockwise.”
He performed a slow rotation.
“Stop,” Trix said. “Straight forward.”
Mercer started over but had to stop several times to circle around a section of floor when he detected traps. At last the light from his torch fell across the prostrate form of Drake and Trix. Mercer said, “Thank God. I thought everyone else’d been crushed. He alive?”
“Just knocked out as far as I can tell,” Trix said.
“You okay?” Mercer asked.
“Nothing broken. You?”
“Same,” he told her. “Any sign of Cinder?”
Trix shook her head.
Mercer knelt down next to Drake, checked his pulse, peeled open one eyelid, and then settled onto the floor. He looked at Trix. “I guess I owe you an apology. We should have gone over the mountain.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Cinder used the piles of fallen rubble to traverse the vast chamber. She scrambled over broken rock and leapt from stone to stone, all while focusing on the ghostly globe of blue flame in her open palm. Twice she lost her concentration and the light winked out—once when a chunk of broken pillar shifted underfoot and she nearly lost her balance. Every time the light went out, she was forced to stop and concentrate until she could reproduce the spell. But every time she got a little faster at summoning the sphere of light.
When she was forced to walk on the floor, she went slowly and carefully, like a cat tiptoeing along the edge of a roof. She learned to spot the trigger plates, as she thought of them. They were cleverly disguised to look like solid stone, but a few pounds of pressure would spring the trap.
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