“Well, I wasn’t there, was I?” was his snide remark.
We clambered up and over the edge of the plateau that bore the massive skull. From inside of it, giant, empty eye sockets kept watch over the cavern we came from. The skull must have been the size of the entire Flipside Inn – larger even than the White Whale’s. Our river cut through the maw of it, peaceful but strong.
“Leviathan, aye?” said Kabor.
“I think it was the White Whale – same as in the story.”
“Have you ever heard of a mirage?” said Kabor.
“I know what a mirage is. It wasn’t a mirage. Mirages don’t talk.”
“They do if you’ve gone batty.”
“I’m not… I didn’t… it was real.”
“Stop blubbering and bring the light this way,” said Kabor, squinting as he examined the inner wall of the jaw closely. He ran his fingers along its edge.
“Humph,” was all he said, and then pointed to a smooth, wet section of the riverbank.
“See that surface?” he continued. “That there is solid limestone – the stuff of the first cave.”
It looked like normal rock to me.
“I couldn’t care less if it were diamonds,” I said. “I just want out… does it mean this is the way out?”
“Maybe.”
Next, the Stout ran his entire hand along the inside wall. “This here is not the petrified innards of a dead animal. The skull was put here to mark the cave entrance, and the local stone shaped to make it fit in perfectly.”
I examined a section of the jaw carefully – where the transition was. There was definitely a subtle difference in shade and grain where, presumably, bone met stone, just as he said. We turned our attention to the tunnel.
Deeper inside, the natural cave narrowed and the river running down its middle became spirited. Bones littered the shore. Someone or something had stacked most of them into three piles. They were of the animal variety, identifiable by the nature of their teeth, the outline of their jaws, and some by their antlers. Bear, deer, and ox were all present, and some others less familiar. Elsewhere in the cave were bones mixed in with silt that had settled in pits and dips on the rock surface.
The way forward was clear. The river cut a passable tunnel through the rock. Beyond the skull chamber, smooth furrows, like rolls in a carpet, ran lengthwise along the ceiling. Water noise from the tunnel suggested rapids might be upstream and out of sight. I adjusted the straps of my pack and followed Kabor in. He seemed more interested in studying the rock than anything else, until an odd question popped into his head.
“Have you ever wondered what you would do if your light went out?” asked Kabor.
“Good question,” I replied. “It has, but usually – make that always, so far – I can start the thing up again. Sometimes it takes a while though.”
“Like a fire?” he said.
“Sort of like that, I guess. Sparked by… imagination, fueled by…”
“But a fire needs new wood when it burns low,” he added. “What would you throw into this flame if it went low? A new thought?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d certainly try, I guess…” That particular idea stayed with me, in the back of my mind, for a very long time.
The farther in we pushed, the heavier the mist. In what seemed the opposite thing to do, I had to dim the light to see ahead better – too much scatter otherwise. As we made our way, the shape of the cave began to change as well: narrowing in, yet still tall. The current became stronger, and the rush of it grew louder in the confined space. Kabor raised his voice.
“We need to figure out a back-up, just in case…” he said. The Stout wiped droplets of mist away from his eyes. “…while we can still see.”
I nodded, but without a single idea to offer.
The tunnel pinched in even more and we were forced to wade. The ceiling dropped as well, and the waters ran swift and deep. We braced ourselves against the sides of the tunnel to push forward until we came upon a rushing wall of water. Something about the air and the feel of the current made me itchy. Kabor saw me scratching.
“That’s probably the slurry,” he said, and smiled. “Frogs don’t like it.”
“Ha ha,” I replied. “This might be our exit. But we can’t get through that mess.”
The two of us stood there staring at the water and the mist, dumbfounded. Deflated, I hoisted myself up on a small ledge to get out of the current, where I fully satisfied my itch. I pulled out the last of the Dim Sea albino fish and split it with the Stout, who had pulled himself up on the other side.
“We can try the Dim Sea cave,” I offered, chewing. “There might be a way we can climb to the ceiling, to a daylight hole.”
Kabor continued to stare at the water, then cocked his head and went still. A long moment passed. He pointed to a spot in the torrent ahead of us.
“Look there,” he said. “The water sounds funny over there.”
It was difficult to see what he was talking about. I adjusted the light and gauged its brightness for the best view. Then I toyed with the color, and found that it only made things worse or the same. Defaulting to red light, I tried an intense, narrow beam, but that didn’t really help either. I settled on the way I had it with my first idea – straight up white light at a slightly lower intensity than before.
“It’s just a wall of whitewater at that spot,” I said. “And some of the mist kind of swirls upwards.”
“I bet there are two streams that collide right in that spot,” he said, “a weak one from above and a stronger one straight along the tunnel. Let’s check it out.”
We slipped into the water.
“Wait here,” I said. Arms braced against the tunnel wall, I ducked my head under and pushed my way through the water column.
On the other side, I wiped my eyes. Kabor was right; there were two streams. I looked up and saw a shaft. Water ran down half of it – the part separating me from Kabor. The other half was open to air. On that side, the shaft appeared to be climbable. I reached through the falling water, grabbed Kabor by the shirt on his chest and pulled him through.
“Look,” I said, and made a narrow beam directed up the shaft. He rubbed his eyes and peered inside.
“How far does it go?” he said.
“It’s not that far to the top,” I said. “Maybe ten feet.”
“Out of the way,” he said.
“No way,” I replied. “The last time you did this, it nearly killed us both.”
“This one’s easy, and its solid rock the whole way.”
“I’m going first this time,” I insisted, “for luck.”
There was an awkward pause, and then he offered me a hoist. Before stepping into his locked hands, I untied the leather strap holding the stone and wrapped it around my forehead like a headband. Kabor boosted me up.
Once inside the shaft, the many rock ledges made for an easy ascent. I braced myself and then pulled the Stout up beneath me. As we climbed, the shaft widened, and as we neared the top Kabor was more beside me than below. At the highpoint, a ring of stacked rocks lined the shaft’s rim. One side had partially collapsed and the water poured through. I lifted myself up and out on the dry side, sat on the stack of rocks, and grabbed the SPARX stone. I raised it above my head. Situated in the midst of a sparkling pool of water, I invoked the stone’s steady glow. Around me, the chamber lit up like diamonds in the sun. So bright, I had to shield my eyes.
“Whoa,” said Kabor, as he felt out the final grip holds he needed.
The stone’s luminescence found new and vigorous life in the glittering cave, dancing and playing on the moving water and complex cave surfaces of the wall and ceiling. Long, jutting crystals crisscrossed and collided in every direction, and the light seemed to converge at their tips, flashing like pinpoint stars.
Kabor pushed himself up through the hole and sat beside me on the stack. Squinty-eyed, he scanned the chamber. To one side, a thick column of glistening water gushed
from the ceiling and into the pool. It crashed onto a pile of melded crystals that shot out like icicles, frozen in time. The walls sparkled and sent rainbows of refracted light scattering all around.
“Holly should see this place!” I said. Why I thought of her right away, I don’t know.
“Ya, this is amazing,” he said. “We’ll never see anything like this again in our entire lives, guaranteed.”
“Too bad, she would really appreciate it,” I said.
“Holly doesn’t need something this elaborate,” said Kabor.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“A borrowed carriage and a picnic in a nice spot on a nice day would do the trick. It’s easier and she’ll appreciate the attention and convenience. She just needs enough romance to gab to her friends about – nothing so fanciful as an underground cave that you have to tread through miles of tunnels to get to.”
“How the heck would you know?”
“She as much as told me to do it.”
“She didn’t.”
“She did.”
I closed my eyes and generated a blinding flash.
“Ahh!” cried Kabor.
When I opened my eyes again, he was rubbing his.
“What was that for?” he said.
“Oops,” I said, apologetically. “It got away from me.”
“You did that on purpose!” he shot back.
I brought the light to a mid-range brightness and let my eyes casually soak in the sights. Wide ochre veins stained the walls in sideways bands, while pure white crystals descended vertically from the ceiling, hanging like thin, squared-off icicles.
“A cave of giant spears,” I said.
Kabor stood up on the wall of stacked rocks, reached out and ran one hand down the length of an inclined crystal the size of a young tree.
“Spears of the gods,” he corrected.
There was more beauty and wonder to behold in that chamber than could be appreciated at once, like stepping suddenly into a room holding all the world’s most fantastic art, but all crowded together, covering every square inch of wall space, ceiling and floor, one blocking the other. Kabor cupped a palmful of water to his mouth and slurped it down. He grinned.
“This water is good,” he said. “The slurry must have come from the other river.”
At his urging, I drank deeply. The water felt cool and soft inside. We both took the opportunity to fill our waterskins.
Muscles sore from the climb and fighting the current, I waded though the pool to dry ground, set my pack down, and found a comfortable place to sit. I took to playing with the flicker and brightness of the stone, and stepped through the color spectrum. Kabor and I admired the show and the unusual geometry of the crystals, hypnotized by patterns of sparkle and shadow cast throughout the cave.
On a more practical note, there were no notable exits other than the one we came through and the hole in the ceiling, which was impassable. After some time searching for an alternate way out, Kabor followed his instincts and began rummaging around a caved-in portion on one side of the chamber. I agreed with his assessment that it had a suspicious look to it. The debris there was mostly crystalline, and the ceiling above was bare. Kabor waved me over.
“More bones,” he said, pointing to the ground.
Some careful digging revealed scraps of cloth and the complete skeleton of a smallish person, boney fingers still clutching a pick.
“Pour soul,” I said.
Kabor pushed away more of the debris, and then donned his spectacles. With sideways glances, he put his face right up to the skeleton and examined it carefully.
“It looks all twisted out of shape,” I said.
“You got that right,” said Kabor. “Could be the forces of impact.”
“Well,” he continued, scratching the top of his head, “that’s a heavy miner’s pick he’s got there. An old one too, but a good one.” He examined it closely. “This is Stout-made.”
“He’s a Stout?”
“I dunno about that… ’bout the right size though… maybe. I think he was deformed. I’d say this fellow broke through the wall from a connecting cave or mine tunnel, took one look, and thought he’d found the ‘mother load,’ as Mer would put it. Then WHAM! That was it for him.”
Kabor pointed to a long, broken crystal that pierced the skeleton’s rib cage.
“Spiked by a giant spear,” he said. “Poor bugger.”
“The gods here had it in for him,” I said. There was a moment of silence. “Do you think the rest of this cave is stable? Could it fall on us?”
“Best be careful and not bang around too much,” said Kabor. “Half this cave is like to shatter. But we still need to move the pile aside and see if there’s an opening in behind.”
Kabor undid the skeleton’s boney grip on the pick handle and took the tool for himself, then put away his glasses. We set our minds to clearing away the cave fill, stuffing our pockets and the pack with choice crystals as we worked. Although loose on top, the pile became hard-packed near the bottom and near the wall. Kabor raised the pick for a solid swing. I grabbed the handle.
“Shush!” I said, and pointed up. “The ceiling.”
“Oh ya… I forgot,” said Kabor.
The Stout tapped lightly on the compacted material. It gave away little by little, and I removed the debris. After a long while, we swapped places. But it took painstaking chipping and many swaps between us to carve out a narrow lane that breached the wall. Kabor paused at that point and, leaning on the pick, wiped the sweat from his brow.
“There it is,” he said. “Just like I said.”
Sure enough, behind the pile was the outline of a roughly hewn crawlspace that could pass as a mining tunnel. But the way was still blocked.
“It can’t be totally caved in, can it?” I said.
“Doubt it,” he replied. “But it could have filled up some. And cemented like the stuff we just chipped through.”
“Do you want to switch?” I offered.
“Nope. I’ll finish this,” he said, and raised the pick.
When he swung, he did so a bit hard; a bit hard and a bit high. He hit the rock wall.
SNAP!
CRASH!
I raised my arm to shield my face from flying shards. The rain of crystals pelted Kabor so forcefully it knocked him over.
“Whoa,” I said. Not ten feet away, a good-sized chunk of the ceiling had broken off and exploded when it hit the cave floor. “That was close.”
There was no answer.
“Kabor?” I said.
“I’m all right,” he replied. He stood up and brushed himself off.
“A little gentler this time?” I said.
“A little gentler,” he agreed, and tapped away.
“Maybe this isn’t such a great place to bring Holly after all,” I conceded.
“Ya think?”
A few minutes later, he broke through to the other side. We peered in – it would be a tight squeeze, but we could wiggle our way through. While Kabor picked away at the last of the blockage, I grabbed my pack and my spear and stood behind him.
“Out of the way,” I said. Kabor obliged. I crawled in first, guided by the light of the stone. The Stout followed on my heels. I came to an opening on the other side, partially blocked.
“What’s this?” I said.
“You tell me,” replied Kabor.
I forced my way past the debris, crawled out, and stood up. The Stout poked his head out of the crawlspace and scanned the passage beyond. He sniffed at the air.
“It’s a mine all right,” said Kabor, grinning widely as he looked up at me. I never beheld a sight so fine as the grin on his face that very moment and the sureness of his step as he rose to his feet and brushed off his pants. He was on familiar turf.
“We’re on the home stretch now,” he said.
No doubt, it was darker and gloomier than any other mine. Not one torch or lantern lit the way. But a mine has a clear way in and, more impor
tantly, a clear way out. We chose a direction and began to make our way along the tunnel, single file and down the middle where the path was clearest. Our footsteps echoed ahead of us.
Before getting far, there was a clicking sound…
Chapter VIII
The eyeless Glooms and Isotopia
The strange noises began to fill the passageway. I had heard them once before.
I backed away. Kabor, behind me, pressed his hand against my spine.
“Hold it,” he urged. “Maybe they can help.”
“No,” I said. There would be no giant cloaker to drop out of the heights and whisk me away from danger this time. This time, I would have to deal with the inhabitants of this gloomy underworld face to face.
The stream of sharp clicks grew louder. The noise mingled with the patter of soft footfalls. They were getting closer.
“They’re probably just a bunch of miners,” pleaded Kabor, “you know, slaves… nothing like the mad dwarfs that you met up with.”
“Who do you think keeps them in line?” I said.
Kabor shrugged his shoulders and provided his best counterpoint. “Probably a few guards at the surface and a dozen or so patrolling the whole mine. I don’t know what they’re going on about, but all the chatter sounds a little lively for security.”
I pricked my ears to the chatter. There did seem to be a kind of excitement or thrill in the rise and fall of the exchanges between them. If birds and crickets could engage in banter, it might sound very much the same.
“I guess you’re right,” I conceded.
And so we waited.
We waited as the twisted and deformed shapes slowly came into view, hobbling in from the edge of darkness. And we waited for the nightmarish and malformed faces to take note of us. But they didn’t, at first. At first, they just continued towards us, preoccupied with their conversational chirps and beeps to one another. The creatures stood vaguely Stout-like, nearly a dozen in all, although Kabor will swear they appeared nothing like his kinsmen. They carried picks, shovels, and hammers; and dressed in long, drab, dirty robes that nearly matched the color of their skin. Most were without footwear and some wore leather sandals.
SPARX Incarnation: Order of the Undying (SPARX Series I Book 2) Page 8
