River Into Darkness

by Sean Russell

  Erasmus was not sure how he should respond. Certainly he wasn’t prepared to stop the priest from entering the cave. What was he to do? Tie up Rose and his companion?

  Yet he did not trust Demon Rose, as Kehler named him. The man was not telling the truth about what he knew, that was certain, and his intentions toward Kehler were not clear. The church bred a certain kind of arrogance in its priests, and they did not hold much respect for the sovereign rights of mere citizens.

  “I might be more inclined to take you with us, Deacon, if you were to tell me what you, and what Kehler, expect to find here.”

  The priest stood looking at Erasmus for a moment, considering, then he inclined his head to one side. “Let us speak more privately, Mr. Flattery.”

  Erasmus handed the reins to Clarendon’s servant and motioned for his companion to follow. They walked beyond the hearing of Rose’s guide, into the dappled sunlight of the pines, and a view opened up before them. Far below they could see a lake, and for the first time Erasmus noticed the fragrance of the trees.

  “I am sworn to secrecy, Mr. Flattery, and a priest does not break such an oath easily, but I feel that your request is eminently reasonable, so I will break my covenant this time.” The man stopped and drew a breath, considering where to begin. “I am not absolutely certain what Kehler discovered in Wooton, and I say this in complete truth. He disappeared before we could question him and discover the extent of his betrayal—which is what it was,” he said, showing a little pain. “A betrayal of trust.” He paused again. “I have been sent here to be sure that this betrayal does not bring my church into conflict with Lord Eldrich. In this matter I am hoping for your assistance, Mr. Flattery. It is my greatest hope to stop Mr. Kehler in his endeavor before he draws the attention of the mage.”

  “But what is his endeavor?” Erasmus said quickly, his impatience taking control.

  Rose nodded, realizing perhaps that he could no longer answer Erasmus with vagaries. “It is likely that what Kehler found in Wooton was a painting by Pelier; a painting and perhaps a letter from the priest who refused last rites to Baumgere.”

  Erasmus could see that Rose suddenly had Clarendon’s full attention.

  “Mr. Kehler likely learned that Baumgere spent a great deal of time searching the cave. And the painting . . . the painting showed someone offering knowledge. Not just knowledge but knowledge of the arts of the mages. Forbidden knowledge, Mr. Flattery. I’m sure that is what Baumgere sought, and what, in turn, Mr. Kehler hopes to find.”

  “The other night you suggested this all had something to do with Teller,” Erasmus said.

  The priest nodded again. “It is possible.”

  “He hid records in the cave. Is that what you think?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Flattery. Pelier’s painting, like all of his work, is open to interpretation. But it seems likely that Mr. Kehler believes something is hidden here, and likely Baumgere did as well, though he never found it.”

  “And if that is so, why are you here?” Erasmus asked. “Even if Kehler finds some records or texts, it is, as you suggest, Mr. Kehler who will bear the brunt of Eldrich’s anger, if the mage even finds out.”

  “I am here because we have a pact with the mage. If Mr. Kehler has found his information in our archives, it is more than likely that Eldrich will hold us accountable. But if I can convince Kehler to abandon this quest, then perhaps I can avert the intervention of Eldrich. And if Kehler finds what he seeks, I will see it myself and be the first to report it to the mage, unless you yourself do it before me. In either case you will be a witness, Mr. Flattery, and Eldrich will know that we have not broken our pact with him. Nor will we, Mr. Flattery. Let me assure you.”

  Erasmus looked over at Clarendon but could not read the man’s reaction.

  “I will not be a burden to you, Mr. Flattery. I work almost daily in the fields and barns of our monastery, and it has long been my great joy to explore the meadows and woods, walking many miles in a day. I will not slow you or need your help as we go.”

  Clarendon had planted his feet far apart, hands on his hips. “You will let us consider what you have said in private, Deacon Rose.” It was said with remarkable firmness, from a man who did not reach the priest’s shoulder.

  Erasmus followed Clarendon away a few steps.

  “What do you make of this, Randall?”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I think it would be better if he accompanied us, Mr. Flattery. I will feel more comfortable if he is under our watchful eye. I still do not trust him, though what he has said has me suddenly anxious. Could this matter interest Eldrich? Are those young men doing something incredibly foolish?”

  Erasmus shook his head. “I don’t know, Randall. I’m not such an authority on the mage as some people think. It seems unlikely to me that Eldrich has any notion of what two rather anonymous young gentlemen are up to. But if Baumgere searched here for some hidden records of the Tellerites, then it is a matter of great concern. Hayes and Kehler might not realize how much this would interest Eldrich, and how he might react to such a discovery. Rose is right in this. Better to inform the mage of what is found and then say nothing to anyone. I can’t imagine what Hayes and Kehler think they will do with this knowledge.”

  “Then we will take the priest and watch him closely,” Clarendon said. “Are we agreed?”

  Erasmus nodded. “Reluctantly, yes.”

  An hour was lost while they prepared themselves to enter the cave. It was decided to take two lanterns and keep one carefully packed for use in case the first should be damaged or lost. They also split an enormous bundle of candles into three smaller packages.

  “We must have light and more in reserve,” Clarendon said. “A hundred feet into this cave we enter a world that is beyond the reach of starlight or sun. It is a blackness you have likely never experienced before. Without light we shall come to harm, gentlemen, have no doubt of it. Light. It is about to become the most precious commodity we have. A day into the cave and you would pay gold for it. Mark my words, you would give everything you own for a spark.”

  After resting for a moment and eating a little, they shouldered their packs and set off down the path to the cave mouth. The opening was hung with moss and vines which covered the hard rock that extended back into the darkness. The entrance to the underworld—though it was not guarded by wolves as the myths said.

  They lit their lantern in the sunlight, and then, with Clarendon in the lead, set off into the darkness. Thirty feet into the cavern, Erasmus turned and looked back at the irregular patch of green framed by the cave mouth. Sunlight tumbled through the trees onto a bed of moss and lit the swaying ferns. Erasmus thought the world looked incomparably fair and verdant. He turned back and hurried after his companions who made their way resolutely downward into a land devoid of sunlight and rain and the whispering of wind in the pines.

  Twenty-Eight

  Kells tapped a glass paperweight against the table.

  Knock . . . knock . . . knock. Pause. Then repeated again. He was unaware of it, Anna knew, as were most of the others, but it had begun to drive her to distraction.

  Knock . . . knock . . . knock. Pause.

  “Skye remains on the surface,” Kells said at last. “And if he is to open the gate, as Anna has seen, then we might be advised to stay on the surface as well.”

  “But it is a vision,” Banks said in frustration, “and therefore requires interpretation. I think the gate is open . . . now. Look who has gone down into the cavern: both these young men Skye employed; the priest; and Flattery and Clarendon as well. They have hardly undertaken such a thing for amusement.”

  “I think Banks is right,” Anna said. “It feels . . . true to me. The gate is open, and we sit here idly arguing. If Flattery has gone down into the cave, then it is all but certain, I think.”

  “But he went in the company of a priest, and no
t just any priest—Deacon Rose. If Erasmus Flattery still serves Eldrich . . . well, there is an unholy alliance for you.”

  “But if Flattery still served Eldrich,” Anna said, “would he expend all of his energies seeking knowledge of the mages, as we all know he does?”

  “Over the centuries,” Halsey said, “many have served the purposes of the mages and not known. Erasmus Flattery could very easily be one of these.” The old man shifted in his chair, lost in thought. He was always uncomfortable, never quite free of pain, Anna knew. If she hadn’t resented him so at that moment she was certain she would pity him his suffering.

  “I fear, though, that Anna and Banks are right,” Halsey said slowly. “The gate is open.” He moved carefully in his chair, his eyes pressed tightly closed—the only sign of pain he showed. “I think the question is, how much risk are we willing to take? All other discussion is mere distraction. Do we go down into the cave not knowing if Erasmus Flattery still serves Eldrich? And do we go, knowing full well both the loyalties and intent of Deacon Rose?” He looked at the others around the table, holding the gaze of each of them for a moment.

  Knock . . . knock . . . knock . . . pause.

  Anna took a deep breath, knowing the full significance of the decision they made. “I believe Erasmus Flattery does not serve Eldrich, but pursues the knowledge of the mages of his own accord. As such, he is our natural ally. The priest is another matter. He will destroy us if he can. We cannot be misled by any lie or subterfuge he might employ. It is his sworn duty to destroy us, and therefore we must . . . do what the situation requires. And I believe we can.”

  Halsey stared at her for a moment, just a hint of emotion there, then turned to the others. “Kells?”

  “I can’t dispute Anna’s vision if she feels this is the time. . . . I agree that the risk is Flattery. We simply do not know with any certainty what his loyalties are. And even if he hated Eldrich more than any man alive, that still would not mean that he did not serve the mage. Halsey is right in this; many have unwittingly served the mages.” He looked down at the paperweight, hefting it as though he tapped it against an invisible surface. “But if the gate has been opened and the knowledge of Anna’s vision is in the cave . . . we have little choice, I think. But—”

  “Exactly so!” Banks interrupted. “There is no choice. That’s what I—”

  “Mr. Banks . . .!” Halsey said. “Let Kells finish. Please!”

  Banks nodded, hanging his head a little. Anna felt pity for him—it was so frustrating at times.

  “I was going to say that Anna must be prepared to be far more . . . merciless than she has ever been.” He looked up at Anna. “Do you understand? This priest—in fact, all of these people—their mere existence could threaten us. Eldrich must never know what has been found. Never. Or he will train others.”

  Anna nodded, looking down. She was hardly able to find her voice. “I—I knew it might come to this. Deacon Rose, I believe, is well within my abilities. Erasmus Flattery is a risk. We all know it. If Eldrich trained him . . .”

  “He has no familiar,” Banks said firmly. “Flattery would have a familiar.”

  “It is not impossible to hide such a thing,” Halsey said.

  “I will do what is required to protect us. I must,” Anna said. No one answered, and unable to bear the doubt-filled silence, she went on. “And there is something else. . . . Something we never discuss, for we hardly dare hope such things. In my vision the man had a blossom.” She looked at Halsey. “If there is seed, then we should hold nothing back. I say risk everything for the seed.”

  Halsey did not respond, but only held her gaze a moment. “Then you will go down into the cave,” he said quietly. “But if this knowledge you have seen is real—if you find it—then I charge you to let none of these others return to the surface, for if anyone escapes with knowledge . . . Eldrich will find us. Do not think this is just the irrational fear of an old man. Eldrich will find us, and his revenge upon us will be terrible.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Holding the lantern as near to his face as he dared, Kehler pressed his finger to the rock and lifted it away, examining the ball of his finger for residue.

  “Chalk, I think. Look.” He held his finger out to Hayes.

  “Taste it,” Hayes suggested.

  Kehler considered this for a second, decided there was likely no harm in trying and thrust the finger into his mouth. “Eagh!” He spat on the cavern floor. “No doubt of it. Chalk mixed with mud, I think.”

  “Baumgere, I suppose?”

  Kehler nodded. “Unless someone else has been here before us. It would make sense to mark what you’d done. The place is a labyrinth. It would be easy to forget which passages you’d explored. We should mark them as well.”

  “But chalk is hardly permanent. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to use something that would last?”

  “Perhaps, but would you carry a pot of paint in here? It has been many years since Baumgere was here, so the marks have almost gone, but perhaps in the short time he was searching—maybe only a few months, or even weeks—the chalk would have been adequate.” Kehler paused for a second. “Or maybe he didn’t want to leave permanent marks. He may even have erased them himself.”

  They looked back at the faint smudge on the rock. Several such marks had been found, each above an opening, though they were illegible, now, if they ever had been writing. Unfortunately no signs could be seen above many of the passages and Hayes and Kehler didn’t know if this meant these passages had not been explored or if the chalk had simply worn away over the years.

  Hayes looked down the length of the passage. There must have been forty openings in the short distance he could see. “Would you not approach this with some kind of order?” he asked. “I would certainly start at one end and work my way to the other.”

  “Yes, certainly. Meaning?”

  “Well, if we can find the last passage that Baumgere explored we would save ourselves a great deal of effort. Do you see what I’m saying? Even if the last passage on which we can discern a mark is not the last he explored, we could still be eliminating some of them.”

  “Yes, that would make sense.” Kehler moved to the next passage and began searching the rock around the opening.

  After several hours of effort, they finally chose the passage they believed was the last that still bore a mark, and this eliminated perhaps fifteen openings—less than half the possibilities, though Kehler was quick to point out that any number of passages could possess branches, making the number potentially greater—perhaps much greater.

  They sat to eat and rest, for both of them were greatly fatigued, as well as stiff and sore. The exploration of caves was not as painless as they liked to pretend.

  Kehler fell into a deep sleep in the middle of their meal, and Hayes blew out the lamp and shut his eyes. It was important to preserve fuel. Strangely, he could not sleep, though he was as deeply fatigued as he could remember being.

  He lay in the dark, feeling the immeasurable tons of rock above him, imagining the layer of soil, and then the thin cover of vegetation. Above them the night would be unfolding. Somehow he was sure a soft breeze swayed through the branches and the sweet fragrance of the forest filled the night. Overhead stars sparkled in a clear sky.

  The fantasy would not hold, however, for even in the darkness Hayes could feel the cave around him. It had a certain smell, not unpleasant, but, still, for him it would always be associated with darkness and the damp and the constant weight of the rock above.

  Kehler began to snore softly, and Hayes pulled his collar closer around him, suddenly cold. He tried not to think of the trek out; the abyss above the falls, the climbs, the sections where they would be forced to crawl. The cave entrance seemed impossibly far away, as unreachable as the past.

  At last he fell into a troubled sleep and began to dream that he was lost in the tu
nnels of an endless cave, wandering through an eerie semidarkness, constantly coming to brandlings and not knowing which way to turn. Occasionally he would see lights in the distance and think that he was rescued, but run as he might he could never catch the bearers of the light, and he would be left alone again, hearing only the distant fall of footsteps, and what sounded like muttering.

  He lay in the darkness listening to an even breathing.

  This is no nightmare, he realized. I am awake.

  Even though he had no idea how long he’d slept, he decided to light the lamp and rouse his companion. They had much work to do and had not meant to sleep at all.

  They began with the initial unmarked tunnel, Kehler insisting that the first would be his. The opening was small, almost round, and quite smooth. Kehler pushed himself into this, his legs kicking awkwardly for a moment, and then he disappeared, drawing the light in after him. Hayes was left in the darkness with only the sounds of Kehler’s progress for company. Every so often he would call into the opening, checking on his friend, and he and Hayes would share a few words, then he would find his pack in the blackness and sit down, embarrassed by how dejected and alone he felt. Perhaps three quarters of an hour passed and suddenly a faint glow emananted from the passage Kehler had disappeared into. Hayes became confused as the light grew, for it almost seemed to him that the glow came from the opening next to the one Kehler had entered.

  Anxiety gripped him; the next exploration would be his, and Hayes was not looking forward to it.

  A few moments later the light grew from a glow to its anemic best, and the lantern swung out into the open. Hayes forced himself up and took it from his friend’s hand. “I must be in a muddle,” he said, “for I would have sworn you entered this next opening down.”