The Key of Amatahns

by Elisabeth Wheatley

Chapter Seven

  The stone corridor stretched on and on, sometimes twisting at odd angles, cluttered by jagged crystals that grew from the ceiling. Now Janir saw that riding Kalbo down here would have been a death trap. She felt a pang of loss at the thought of the stallion. He’d been a gift from Armandius.

  Janir and Karile reached a broader section of tunnel with a sandy floor, stones strewn about as if from a giant’s tantrum. A dark shape flickered out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked, there was nothing. The flames of the torches stirred, but then all was still.

  Karile didn’t seem to have noticed. He was staring at an antediluvian piece of paper, trying to keep it from rolling back into a scroll. While he pored over it, Janir was nervously glancing at every odd shape and shadow. Her imagination said that any one of them could be hiding some fearsome horror.

  “Where did you have that?” Janir asked sharply.

  “In my robe,” Karile quickly replied. “Just a little map I drew for us.”

  He said it as if he expected thanks for the foresight. Janir did not oblige him.

  The cave grew wider the farther it went on. The torches stopped just ahead and the ground sank. Janir didn’t know what this place was and she feared what might lie ahead, but she more feared the answer Karile might give if she asked. If she could just find a way out soon, she would be able to put this all behind her without having to discover whatever fearsome things lurked out of sight.

  Red soil was sticking to the hem of her dress and her boots. The smoky smell of burning pitch wafted about them along with another smell, a musty, scaly odor that prodded at some cramped corner of her mind.

  With a little shout of triumph, Karile finally unrolled the scroll and began to decipher it. He muttered incomprehensible words of a dozen syllables or more, doing nothing to reassure her.

  “Straight ahead,” Karile announced.

  “I told you. I don’t want anything to do with your Key. Now just tell me the way out of here!”

  “Look, the fastest way out is if we work together.”

  “I owe you nothing and you’re going to tell me the way out right now.”

  “Janir, losing our heads will gain us nothing.”

  “Give me the map.”

  Karile protectively shoved it behind his back. “You wouldn’t be able to read it anyway.”

  “Give me the map!” Janir dove for him.

  Karile scrambled out of reach. “You don’t understand the significance—”

  WHOOSH.

  The two of them stopped instantly. Frozen by fear, they stared with wide eyes into the dark.

  The young enchanter hid behind Janir as a red shadow, shapeless and almost soundless, swooped in front of them. It had gone as quickly as it had come, there and away in half the time it took for a heart to beat.

  “What was that?” Karile whispered at length.

  Janir’s skin felt like a blanket of ice had been laid over it. She was acutely aware of everything about her—the soft drip of cave water, the chatter of Karile’s teeth, each individual shadow cast by the torch.

  They had reached the edge of the dirt tunnel, and now beheld stone flat and smooth as glass walled in all four sides as far as the torch cast its glow. Janir waved the torch from side to side. Nothing was there. They stood completely motionless for several minutes, afraid of what would happen if they stayed put, but just as afraid of what would happen if they moved.

  Janir’s knees were shaking, knocking together like branches in a wind, but she tried to conceal it from Karile. She would not let him see her fear.

  There seemed to only be one way out of here, so she decided to take the chance. Tentatively, Janir stepped forward. As soon as her foot pressed down on the stone, they heard a rumbling, as if the whole mountain was groaning.

  On cue, the torches closest to the cave mouth winked out in rows simultaneously until the only one still lit was in Janir’s trembling fist. Karile was too scared even to blame her and she was too frightened to blame him.

  Deciding that they had no where else to go, Janir took another step. She waited. Nothing happened. She began slowly advancing into the perfectly square stone tunnel with the enchanter clinging to her for dear life. Her footsteps and Karile’s shuffling echoed softly. They deliberately inched forward, barely taking full strides at a time. It seemed to go on for hours—step and look, step and look.

  As the pair crawled along at a turtle’s pace, the tunnel’s ceiling abruptly became much higher. Janir realized that they were walking toward a ledge that led two sword lengths lower into the mountain, made of solid granite glistening in the torch’s glow.

  Recalling what had happened the last time she stepped on a strange surface, Janir hesitated a very long moment before deciding to climb down. Taking a deep breath, Janir dropped onto the ledge and hopped into the next chamber. Karile, not to be left behind, jumped after her.

  The young enchanter had barely clambered to his feet when they heard the rumbling again. When Janir glanced up, three heavy slabs of stone had already sealed the path behind them.

  Magic. It had to be.

  That frightened her, even though she knew magic couldn’t harm her. One thing her Argetallam blood was good for.

  Resisting the urge to try pounding on the granite slab and screaming for help, Janir held the torch up as high as she could. They were inside a huge domed room with mosaics on the walls. Colorful mosaics that told of mortals, elves, dwarves, beasts, and birds.

  Karile muttered meaningless words again and the room was instantly illuminated by a glow which seemed to come from all directions. The torch winked out immediately. Janir tossed it aside, skin crawling at the prospect of unknown powers at work. Consciously, she understood magic couldn’t hurt her, but the idea still made her intensely uncomfortable.

  Karile was standing before one of the walls, almost leaving nose prints on the mosaic he was so close. “They tell a story.”

  “What does?” Janir was not actually paying attention. “How do we get out of here?” She was barely keeping her fear in check.

  She paced the circular room, about twenty sword lengths in diameter, searching for an exit—any exit. Every crease in the stone seemed solid, every crack sealed. Janir noticed what appeared to be the remains of a human skeleton lying at one end, but it was so old it had mostly turned to dust and she couldn’t tell for sure what it had been. Perhaps hundreds of years old? The discovery motivated her to keep searching. Karile’s ramblings interrupted her frantic quest.

  “The mosaics, they tell the story of Amatahns.” Janir thought the enchanter needed to get his priorities straightened. “See?” He pointed to a piece on the wall.

  Janir knew that the pictures were vivid, but she wasn’t paying attention. She examined a set of four pillars erected in the very center of the room. The pillars were unadorned, simply blue granite towers to support the ceiling. Karile’s voice was running in the background like a river’s murmur, but Janir wasn’t listening.

  “Oh, look Janir!” Karile exclaimed in delight. “Look at this mosaic of a mazag, isn’t it amazing?”

  Janir spared a moment barely long enough to glance at the mosaic Karile that made so enthusiastic. Her first impression was that the artisans must have been striving for life size, the piece took up the space of a bullock.

  It was of a mazag, that much was certain. She recognized it from drawings in books, books of old legends about the days before Argetallams and the Seven Swords.

  The creature had a thick, rectangular body with stocky, muscular legs, webbed toes, and black claws that were digging into a rock. Its body was an orange red, like the flames of the torch that had just been extinguished, blood colored spikes running along the spine from the back of its head to the end of its whip like tail. The creature’s eyes were yellow with tiny slits for irises, a wild, hungry look in them.

  It had two mandibles on top and two on bottom. The jaws were spread apart to reveal a forked tongue, coiled as i
f ready to strike. Its short, muscular neck was twisting around to glare at an unknown foe.

  Janir was amazed by the detail of the piece. She could almost see the individual scales on the beast’s body, hear its heavy breathing. Again, she smelled that musty, scaly scent. Such great attention had been given to the beast’s eye, she thought she could see it moving.

  The eye flicked from side to side a moment before the creature flexed.

  “Karile, get down!” Janir screamed. She tackled the enchanter to the floor just as the beast pounced. It missed and overshot, skidding to the other side of the dome.

  The mazag spread its mandibles to reveal two rows of needlepoint teeth along each jaw. An ear shattering roar of anger shook the dome as the beast spun to renew its attack. Janir shoved Karile to one side and she jumped to the other. Not certain which one of them to take, the beast hesitated a split second before batting at Janir with an iron claw. She felt the beast’s powerful muscles ripple as it tossed her like a toy. For several agonizing seconds, she couldn’t breathe, her chest wouldn’t expand enough to inhale.

  The saddlebags slung over her shoulder had offered some protection from the claws, but their contents were in a wild scatter. Lying just out of reach was the mahogany box.

  It seemed to be calling her, beckoning her to open the polished lid. Strangely, it hadn’t been damaged when it had flown out of the pack.

  Open me, open me, the box called.

  She heard the words like whispers in the wind. It could have just as easily been her imagination gone rampant, but this time, she had to open it. She needed whatever was inside.

  Janir pushed herself off the granite floor. Almost of their own volition, her hands snatched up the box and ripped it open. Even though it had stayed closed for years, the lid gave easily.

  Inside, placed side by side, laid out on a velvet cushion were two black rods. They were each about as long as the distance from Janir’s elbow to the tip of her longest finger. They had a texture to them, some sort of unspeakably elaborate design of twisting patterns. There was a curved shape to one end of each rod so that a hilt was formed and Janir found herself aching to snatch them up and hold onto them as tight as she could.

  Touch us…touch us…

  Janir had to. She couldn’t stop herself. Gingerly, she wrapped her fingers around one of the rods. A wave of excitement washed over her the same instant. Janir had to pick up the other one. Gripping the rods felt…right. Like this was how things belonged, were supposed to be.

  For now, the beast’s attention was on Karile. The enchanter was in between the four pillars, trying to avoid the snapping jaws.

  Janir rose, clenching a rod in each hand. These were weapons of some kind, she was sure of that. She wasn’t certain how exactly they worked, but Karile was going to be dead soon if she didn’t act quickly. She didn’t think as she sprang to one of the beast’s powerful hind legs. Driving the rods down with uncharacteristic strength, she struck the beast in two places at once.

  She became aware of a droning, wail coming from the rods, and a high pitched scream of distress from the monster. The beast flopped on its side, shaking on the ground, yelping like a beaten pup. Flipping out of reach, it wobbled to its feet and clacked its mandibles together in warning. In her head, Janir wondered what in the name of sanity she was doing. That thing could eat her, for pity’s sake.

  The beast struck out with its powerful forelimbs again, but she bit her lip and didn’t move. Maybe, just maybe if she bluffed well enough…

  The creature staggered away from the girl. As it turned, Janir spotted two black, blistering marks where she had jabbed it on the thigh.

  The monster wobbled toward the wall, whimpering pitifully. The stone parted into another tunnel, allowing the monster to escape. The doors closed behind it immediately, again sealing the two companions in the chamber.

  Janir no longer felt the need to grasp the rods, but she held onto them anyway. Lying on his back, Karile was still shouting with terror.

  “Trials! Trials indeed! That thing’s alive!” he shrieked.

  “Yes, it is Karile.” Janir felt strangely calm, quite the opposite of what she had expected and very different from a few minutes ago.

  “What did you do? How did you scare it off?”

  Before Janir answered, a rumbling began in the earth again, the sound of a mountain groaning. A third tunnel opened. A crease in the stone that Janir had thought solid was now parting.

  She barely had time to seize the enchanter before the doors began to shut. Frantically, she shoved Karile through and clambered after him.

  She dropped what felt like three sword lengths to the floor. Karile was moaning at the bottom and she missed crushing him by inches. The ground was soft and her landing was cushioned by the loose earth. Still, she didn’t move for several seconds after the jarring fall.

  They were in total darkness. She blinked and a small point of bluish light shone ahead, but it was so tiny or so far off it didn’t light their way. She groped for Karile in the darkness.

  To her surprise, she was still clenching a rod in each hand. She hadn’t had time to grab any of the other objects that had been in her pack, but she’d hung onto the rods without evening noticing. Janir cautiously probed the darkness with one of the rods, in case they had landed next to another monster. The rod softly scraped along the loose soil and the cave floor gave way to what seemed to be a channel of some sort. A channel meant to conduct water, perhaps? Water could show them the way out, so Janir experimentally pushed the rod into the channel.

  An ear shattering shriek split the air, so loud Janir could feel the vibrations. A huge spark lit the cave and embers rained, stinging her cheeks. Then came a whooshing as fire spread through the channel. Janir recoiled as fast as she could. A moan of protest came from Karile as she slammed into him.

  The rod in her hand had somehow set off a spark, lighting whatever it was, most likely oil, that flowed in the channels. Flames advanced around them in an arc, illuminating a huge room. This chamber was rectangular and more of a massive corridor than a room, with two rows of thick pillars running its length. The fire spread in a semicircle at one end of the corridor, partially lighting the darkness. This part of the caves felt as if it had been made when people were just learning about art. Instead of mosaics, clay had been used to color the vivid shapes and faces. Strange characters, meaningless scratches drawn by claws in a random pattern, decorated the ceiling.

  “Hmm,” Karile mused. “It seems you found the lights.”

  Ignoring him, Janir clambered to her feet and gripped the rods tighter. Karile popped upright beside her.

  “Look Janir! This room has drawings too!” he whispered with delight.

  They were just scratches to her eyes and even if they hadn’t been, Janir was too upset to care. “You tricked me! You manipulated and led me into a den of monsters!”

  “Yes, well I assumed they would have all died out, but it seems I was wrong, doesn’t it?” Karile offered a look that could have been mistaken for apologetic. “But at least we know where they will be because the last one came from the mosaic.”

  “Well, do you see any more mosaics of monsters?” Janir snapped, her back to the enchanter as she surveyed the shadows for movement.

  “No, but look here!” Karile giddily exclaimed, pointing to a place on the ceiling with wild scratches. ‘War to end war, the father’s love a sacrifice.’ Some kind of prophecy, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Janir was too distracted to pay attention. She thought she saw something moving—again. In the orange glow of the flames, it was hard to tell if she had seen a red scaled body or just a shadow.

  “Get behind me, Karile.”

  “Why? So you can see everything first? Not a chance!”

  Faintly, a pair of yellow eyes flickered in the darkness. Chills shot down her spine.

  “Get. Behind. Me.” Janir repeated each word slowly so he’d be sure to understand. As the fire at the f
ar end of the caves died down, darkness was slowly reclaiming the chamber. The eyes blinked and reappeared, closer this time. Again she smelled that musty, scaly scent.

  Karile followed her gaze. It was easy for Janir to know the exact moment he spotted the eyes. He suddenly tensed like a bowstring and hugged her from behind. He gasped and Janir’s disgust was enough to take her mind off her terror for a moment.

  The yellow eyes drew closer. Karile gripped Janir tighter. Holding the rods in front of her, she stepped to one side and Karile quickly followed.

  “Tck, tck, tck…” The beast smacked its four jaws together, teeth clicking. Now the only usable light burned behind them, casting eerie shadows of the pair far along the corridor.

  Then they saw it. This creature was much bigger than the first, towering above them at twice the height of a man. No fireside stories or drawings could quite do it justice.

  The monster craned its neck to survey them closer, watching patiently. “It has been many freezes since my sight was last sullied by your kind.”

  To Janir, the words were like untempered thought shared through sound. Fear countered any shock or disbelief she might have felt and she didn’t question why she could understand it.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Janir said, not sure what else she could say.

  “Then don’t start any, Invulnerable.”

  Shivers shot up and down Janir’s back as the beast unerringly identified her as an Argetallam. She was beginning to feel as if there was a sign plastered to her forehead—first Karile, now this talking monster.

  “Please, we just want out,” Janir reasoned.

  “Why are you talking to it?” Karile whispered. Could he not hear? Not having time to argue with the enchanter, Janir returned her attention to the monster standing over them.

  “The bane of my race was the creation of your forefather. Drell was the pinnacle of power for men, and the downfall of my kind. Tell me, soft skin, what is your name?”

  Surprised that the beast would care, but feeling it would be unwise not to reply, she answered. “Janir.”

  “She-hawk. Not a very fitting name for one so timid.”

  The beast kept on with the clacking and began flicking out its tongue experimentally, testing its limits. “It has been a long time since I have tasted the flesh of Drell’s wretched spawn. You still hold his scent, even though it has been, what? Five hundred odd generations? Your short mortal lifespans can be difficult to calculate.” The clacking was growing hungry, hateful. The brief courtesy, however small, was gone.

  “Karile,” Janir quivered, “be ready to run.”

  The enchanter was too frightened to argue with her or question her motives. A squeak was all she received by way of acknowledgment.

  They waited. Janir wanted the beast to make the first move. She stood still, waiting to see if it would come within reach of her rods. Time ticked away slower than ever. The beast was cautious of Janir, it knew about the rods. She didn’t think she would have had the courage to stand up and speak so calmly to the creature without them. Whatever they were, they sparked courage in her and fear in the mazag.

  The creature again craned its short neck, surveying Janir intently, auditing her capabilities as an adversary with a practiced eye. “You trust your karkaton, I see,” the beast sneered. “My people have fought against karkaton for eons. Do you think I would not know their weaknesses?”

  The beast lunged. Janir ran and Karile followed close behind. The monster made to claw at her and she held out her rods defensively. They briefly connected with scales and dragged along the beast’s foreleg, marking it with black streaks.

  Screeching an ear splitting cry, the beast leapt out of the way and flopped to one side, yelping as Janir had hoped. Not easily defeated, the monster lashed its tail after them, falling short several inches and smashing a solid stone pillar instead. Recoiling its tail, the beast roared and clacked with rage. It sent its tail after them again, this time tripping Janir with the tip, bringing her to the ground. The rods flew out of her hands.

  The beast snarled and lunged for her with clacking jaws. Janir tried to scramble to her feet and run, but the monster was quicker. It dove in for the kill like a swooping bird of prey.

  For once horrible moment, Janir was sure that she was going to die. The next thing she knew, a stone smashed into the mazag’s head. The beast groaned weakly and staggered sideways.

  Karile stood with a second stone cradled in one hand while the other hovered over it as he chanted a spell. The rock leapt up seemingly on its own and collided with the mazag’s head just like the first. It would appear the enchanter had a very useful spells in his repertoire.

  Janir leapt to her feet without a second’s hesitation, snatched up the rods, and pointed frantically toward the blue light ahead. Karile understood the cue and took off running. Janir had to scramble to catch up with him. The pair raced blindly toward the glow at the end of the hall, their only chance at survival.

  With her knees beginning to ache and her breath coming in gasps, Janir wondered if the light was an optical illusion. Perhaps this hall went on forever, she thought in terror. No, of course it didn’t go on forever. Those kinds of things were in stories. But so were monsters with forked tongues and whip tails, she realized. Forcing herself not to think, she sped on faster as the thunderous lope of the beast boomed in her ears.

  “Run faster, Karile!” Janir panted, screaming over the beast’s angry clicking.

  “Do I look like I want to be eaten?” the enchanter shouted back.

  “Just run!”

  Closer—they had to be getting closer to the light, of that she was certain. Janir rushed frantically toward the glow, outpacing Karile, streaking past him.

  As she drew nearer, she realized with despair that the point of light they had staked all their hopes on was nothing but a small crack in the ragged stone wall before them. Janir skidded to a stop, hurriedly trying to concoct a new plan. There was no sign of another tunnel or any other escape. Racking her brains for an idea, she drew a blank.

  Karile went charging straight at her, arms flailing wildly at his sides, eyes the size of dinner plates. The beast was directly behind him.

  Janir raised the rods, ready to ward off another attack when Karile slammed into her like a load of bricks. The enchanter had been running too fast to stop, too terrified to care that he was headed straight for a stone wall. He collided with Janir, shoving her against the rock like a battering ram.

  He drove her through it with a force she would never have suspected to be within his power. The wall let them through easily, as if it had been waiting to crumble. Janir realized with astonishment that they were rolling down a slope of red sand, bumping into rocks every few turns.

  The frustrated clacking of the monster fast became distant. There was only the unhappy shouts of Karile as he did somersaults down the slope. Red sand was everywhere, in her hair, up her nose, in her mouth. She tried to grab onto something, anything to slow her down, but she couldn’t find purchase.

  Finally, they rocked to a halt at the bottom of the hill.