River Into Darkness

by Sean Russell

  What was Erasmus up to, he wondered?

  Thirty-Three

  Hayes managed to pull himself together, considering what he’d found, and that he’d almost set himself afire in a space so tight he was still amazed he had managed to escape largely unscathed. He felt lucky to be alive.

  Kehler bathed his hand in fresh water and bound it in a strip of linen torn from their cleanest shirt. Hayes drank some water and sat on his pack, still coughing from the smoke that had seared his lungs.

  Kehler stayed close, saying little, perhaps feeling a little guilty at having exposed his friend to such horror.

  Slowly Hayes began to recover from the fear and the shock, and the coughing subsided. Kehler made him a cup of their lukewarm tea, which in Hayes’ state actually tasted good.

  “I noticed something while you were gone,” Kehler said. “Can you get up?” He lit a candle and led his friend down the passage.

  “It was so quiet while you were inside, and I began to believe I was hearing something. I thought it might be my mind playing tricks, unable to bear the silence, perhaps, but I came down here, listening with all my attention. First I would think I heard it, then it would be gone again. A regular sound I can only describe as tinkling, almost metallic, but very even when I could hear it.” He held up a hand. “Stop here and listen.”

  Hayes did as he was told, straining to hear sounds beyond their own breathing.

  “Nothing?”

  Hayes shook his head.

  “Step along three paces. Now?”

  Hayes listened again, trying to calm his ragged breathing.

  “Something, perhaps. . . . Flames, it is so faint that I’m not sure.”

  “Exactly. Now come down here.” He led them along another few feet and then bent down before a low opening. Inclining his head Kehler shut his eyes, his face tense with concentration. “Do you hear?” he whispered.

  “Something, yes. Yes. There is a sound. Is it water, do you think?”

  Kehler shrugged. “Likely. But watch.” He brought the candle close to the opening, moving it slowly and then holding it still, his hand wavering just a little.

  Ever so slightly the flame bent away from the opening, as though affected by air currents, and then it swayed the other way.

  “What do you make of that?”

  Hayes held out his hand, trying to feel the air movement. “I almost think I can feel something.”

  Kehler nodded.

  “But does it mean anything? Is this passage more likely to contain what we seek, or is it less likely?”

  Kehler shook his head. “I don’t know, but it is the only one with any feature to distinguish it from the others. For that reason alone, I’m in favor of exploring it next. At worst, we’ll simply have eliminated one more possibility.”

  Hayes agreed, as it was Kehler’s turn to go next anyway. The two made a short meal, and Kehler cleaned and filled the lamp before he set out.

  Hayes pulled their packs down before the opening Kehler intended to explore and wrapped himself in his coat and blankets. “You’ll have to shout your loudest if you need me,” he said. “I can’t possibly stay awake.”

  He watched his friend crawl into the opening, dragging his feet in behind him, and when the light was gone he fell almost immediately to sleep.

  Occasionally he would awake with a start, escaping a dream in which he was trapped in the stone, or in which the skeleton reached out for him. On one of these occasions he awoke calling for help, and then realized that he was not the one that was calling out.

  “Blood and flames!” He thrust aside the blanket and got up stiffly, hunting around for a candle and the materials to light it. It took him a moment floundering around in the darkness with his one hand in pain and only half-useful, and then a flame was slowly born. All the while he heard the regular muffled shouts of his companion.

  Careful not to blow out the flame, he went to the opening Kehler had entered.

  “Kehler!” he shouted, but all he heard in return was an increase in the calling, not a word was clear.

  “Martyr’s balls,” Hayes swore. “He must be lodged.” With great trepidation he knelt down on the hard stone and started into the opening, still so fatigued that he could not imagine how he would make it more than a dozen feet, or what he would do when he reached his friend.

  He was forced to rest every few feet, lying in the near darkness, his fingers cramping from holding the candle and unable to bring his other hand forward. When he rested, he would call out to let Kehler know he was coming, but if Kehler was as little reassured by this as Hayes was confident that he could help, the poor man must have been near to despair.

  After he crawled beyond what he thought was the limit of his endurance, Kehler’s voice was suddenly quite clear, almost near at hand.

  “Hayes?”

  “Kehler? Are you lodged, man?”

  “Bloody martyr’s blood! I thought you would never wake. I’ve been stuck for hours. Flames, man. . . .” But then he seemed to run out of words.

  “I’m coming along as quickly as I can. Try to relax. If you could get in, you can get out. Don’t worry.” Hayes tried to sound confident, but he’d seen the skeleton and knew what it meant.

  Finally, in the dull light of his candle, he saw the worn soles of Kehler’s boots, a few feet away. As he drew up behind his friend, the lantern glow could be made out, though Kehler’s body blocked it almost entirely, the passage was so small.

  Hayes reached out and tapped the bottom of his friend’s boot.

  “Praise be,” Kehler said, sounding genuinely relieved. “I am so desperate that I have had a religious conversion; may Farrelle be praised. I’m being punished for my theft of church property.”

  Hayes laughed. “Only you could find humor in this,” he said.

  “Hayes?” There was no humor in his friend’s tone now. “I’m really in a jam, and I have worn myself to exhaustion trying to get free. I don’t want to end up another skeleton in this particular hell.”

  “We’ll get you out, Kehler, don’t worry. Let’s took at it logically. Where are you jammed?”

  “My hips, if you can believe it. I got my shoulders through after some effort, but then I jammed my hips.”

  Hayes held out his candle trying to discover how his friend was stuck. “Don’t move your feet, Kehler, you’ll put out my candle.” After wrenching his neck around for a moment so that he could look ahead, he had to lower his head to the stone to let the muscles rest. “Try to describe how you’re jammed in there.”

  “Well, there are two ridges in the rock,” Kehler began, focusing his attention on different parts of his anatomy. “They run across the ceiling in two bands about four inches apart. My left hip is jammed between them, and my right is stuck as well. If I could move one of them forward or back even two inches, I could go ahead.”

  “Go forward!?” Hayes said in disbelief. “You want to back out, Kehler, not get farther in. We want to get out of this place.”

  “But you don’t understand. . . . The passage is opening up beyond this. I can see it. The largest section of passage we’ve found since our arrival. All we have to do is get through the squeeze, and we can go on. Flames, we can almost crawl on hands and knees in the next bit.”

  Hayes could hardly believe what he was hearing, but then the thought of having some space around him drew him in a way that he could not explain. Only feet away there was room to breathe freely.

  “I can’t really see why your right hip is stuck. It might be in a small pocket in the rock and you’re just too exhausted to get it free. Let me see if I can pull it back, and you try to help me.” Hayes poured some wax on the stone and stuck the butt of the candle in the soft wax, hoping it would stay upright. He gripped Kehler’s ankle with his forward hand and, bracing himself, pulled as hard as he could. After about fifteen seco
nds of effort he had to relax.

  Flailing for purchase with his free foot, Kehler managed to put the candle out, leaving Hayes in almost complete darkness and beginning to feel panicked himself.

  “Kehler? I have another idea. I’m going to put my head against the sole of your left boot and pull on your right foot at the same time. Push on my head as best you can. Is that clear? We’ll push your right hip forward and your left back at the same time. Are you ready?”

  “No. Rest a moment more.”

  Hayes put his head down on the stone and tried to think of the world above. A world of sunshine, but he could not hold the image there in the darkness.

  Kehler was silent so long that Hayes began to wonder if he had fallen asleep from exhaustion.

  “Kehler?”

  “Just a moment more.”

  “Are you all right?”

  Silence, and then a very small voice came from the darkness. “What if this doesn’t work?”

  “Then I’ll bring a rope in here and tie it to your foot, and then crawl back out where I can get some purchase. I’m sure all we need to do is get your lower hip to come back a few inches and you’ll be out.”

  “All right. I’m ready.”

  Hayes grabbed his friend’s foot and moved forward until he felt the boot sole contact his head. He expanded his shoulders against the stone and braced his feet as best he could.

  He pulled with his hand and pushed his head against his friend’s boot, feeling the pressure on his neck, not to mention the pain.

  Nothing.

  “Blood and flames!” he heard his friend curse and then suddenly the pressure went off his head.

  “Oh, flames . . .” Kehler managed, “I’m bloody well through.” His voice broke on the last word and for a moment the two of them lay gasping.

  “Hayes?” Kehler said, his voice thick. “Well done.” Kehler dragged himself slowly forward and light poured into the narrow passage. Suddenly Hayes realized Kehler’s face was nearly filling the opening ahead. “Can you make it through? There’s room to breathe here. Look, I’ve actually turned around.”

  Hayes crawled forward, running his hand over the rock where his friend had stuck. Seeing how his friend had lodged was of great help, and with Kehler pulling him, Hayes was through in a moment.

  They could actually sit up, the passage was so tall—perhaps two feet and a half in diameter.

  They slumped there like two survivors of battle, not a breath of energy left to carry them on, or even to speak. Kehler managed to raise his hand and clap his friend on the shoulder, but beyond that they didn’t move for half of the next hour.

  Finally Kehler made shift to go on. “I have to move to get some warmth, or I shall begin to shiver.”

  “Do you think we should?” Hayes asked. “Should we not go back and eat and get some sleep, gather our strength a little?”

  “Let’s just see how far this goes. If it narrows down again, I agree; we should go back for now. But if it simply ends in fifty feet . . . I don’t want to come back in here just to find that.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Kehler started out on hands and knees, but around the next bend they were walking upright, though ducking now and then.

  “This is more like it,” Kehler said, unable to hide his excitement. They both knew this was likely to lead to nothing, but even so, it was the first time they’d found a passage that opened up and it lifted their spirits immeasurably.

  Another bend and the passage began to angle up. Kehler stopped them at one point, holding up his hand for silence. “There. Do you hear it?”

  “Yes. Without question. It is water running, isn’t it?”

  “I think so.” They hurried on.

  Around another bend and then they climbed natural stairs up a slope, the passage opening up to a dozen feet. They crested the top with Kehler a few steps ahead. When Hayes came up, watching his footing, Kehler put out a hand and stopped him, gesturing forward.

  “Martyr’s blood,” Hayes whispered, the words barely audible.

  Ten paces before them, at the top of three man-made steps, stood the arch of a small doorway built of white stones. The two stared dumbly, Kehler lowering himself to a ridge of stone as though he could not bear to stand a second more.

  Hayes took a step forward, but his friend reached out a hand to restrain him. “No. Stay back. Do you see the flowers inscribed on the keystone?”

  “Teller. . . . Is that not what Clarendon said? Two vale roses and an unknown blossom.”

  “Yes. This is their chamber, but we might not be able to enter.”

  “What?! We have come all this way through such hardship, and we must stay outside?” Hayes felt his temper rise, and he was too exhausted to control it.

  “I said we might not be able to enter. There could be charms protecting it.”

  “Charms? Spells, you mean?”

  Kehler nodded.

  “And do you have any idea how to deal with them?”

  Kehler shook his head. “None at all.”

  Hayes laughed, he could not help himself. “Well, this has been the most futile endeavor I have ever been tricked into pursuing. Why did you not tell me this before? Is there anything else you are keeping back? You might as well tell me now.”

  Kehler made an odd face, almost a grimace, and shrugged foolishly.

  “And there shall be no fame or fortune either, I’m sure.” Hayes shook his head, half angry, half overcome with the absurdity. He could hardly believe that his good, solid friend Kehler tricked him so infamously.

  “We should have brought Erasmus,” Hayes said suddenly.

  But Kehler shook his head. “No. I fear your friend would get word back to Eldrich, and then no one would ever learn of our discovery—whatever might lie beyond this door. No, Hayes, we must keep this from Erasmus.”

  “Well, I don’t think we need fear Erasmus, who is the most decent of men.” Hayes wondered if he sounded as guilty as he felt. Had Erasmus already begun searching for them?

  “The most decent of men, yes, but he served Eldrich, and mages are not known for letting men go. Not only do I suspect Erasmus of knowing far more than he claims, but I’m distrustful of his loyalties. We absolutely must be sure that Eldrich learns nothing of this until such time as we reveal all. We will publish our findings and make it impossible for Eldrich to bury what we’ve found. Knowledge should not be kept in the hands of the few, who use it to suppress the many. If nothing else, I became convinced of that while I lived with the priests.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  Kehler considered a moment. “It is my belief that one of us should attempt to pass through the door. I will do it as I’m the one who began all this. I am not certain what you should do, Hayes. I don’t know if you will be safe, or if you should go back out to the main passage. I don’t even know if you will be safe there.”

  Claustrophobia gripped Hayes at the thought of going back into that passage. No, they had come this far, going back did not seem an option. Not yet, anyway.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  Kehler considered this a moment. “You realize that might be foolish?”

  Hayes laughed. “This entire endeavor has been foolish.”

  Kehler nodded, and Hayes gave him a hand up. Neither said a word, but only went forward, a bit tentatively, perhaps, but they went on.

  They put their feet upon the first step and Hayes realized it was marble, not the stone of the cave at all. They paused briefly at the door, as though their nerve had failed, and then Kehler forced himself to go through, with Hayes close on his heels.

  By the poor light of their lantern they could see a hall before them. And then a bright light flared, blinding them utterly, felling them like trees in a storm.

  Thirty-Four

  Since the incident at the la
ke, conversation had almost ceased. Deacon Rose was helpful and solicitous, never complaining about the arduous nature of their undertaking. Not that Erasmus or Clarendon were given to complaining, but they did not act as though the trials of the body were of no consequence, which was the impression given by Rose.

  The priest would often make small talk at their meals and stops, displaying the kind of modest, self-effacing charm that he had exhibited when he first visited Erasmus. There was little doubt in Erasmus’ mind that if the good deacon had not chosen the cloth, he would have made a very successful courtier.

  Erasmus noticed that Clarendon did not respond to this display of charm, keeping his responses carefully neutral. Obviously he had reservations about taking the priest along, though Erasmus was not sure the savant would have chosen to let the priest drown as an alternative. Still, Clarendon was not happy, there was no question of that, and Rose could not have missed it.

  They were wading along a waterway now, occasionally climbing down small waterfalls, so that they were wet and cold. According to Clarendon’s survey, there was a falls not far ahead of them, which marked the farthest point Clarendon had penetrated into the cave in the past. The small man had claimed that it hadn’t been worth the risk to go farther, which Erasmus found a bit ominous, for it was apparent that Clarendon was not a timid man.

  They slipped and splashed their way down the slope, the water running cold and swift around their knees, boots ruined and their feet near to numb.

  Erasmus was aware of a growing sound, though it was difficult to describe for it did not vary, nor did it have any particular defining characteristics. He was only certain that it came from ahead.

  “How difficult is it to pass beyond the falls?” Erasmus asked Clarendon.

  “I have never done it, nor have I seen it done, but it is said to be an intimidating traverse. Not really so hard if it were but two feet off the ground, but it is over a falls that plunges down into an abyss. It is more a test of nerve than skill, I think, but it is a great test of nerve, and not all have passed it. Several men have been lost there. Not two years ago a man fell and dragged his rope partner with him.” Clarendon shook his head. “The danger is real, but I think we can pass it. I will go first and set a rope for safety.”