by P R Glazier
Chapter 27. Within the Labyrinth
Nar’Allia had spent the next few days with Łĩnwéé’s help going through book after book in Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd’s library. Although they found many interesting things, nothing seemed to be of any use or aid to their immediate problem. Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd had obviously been around when the city of the Grûndén had been designed and built, for many reference books including architectural designs written in Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd own flowing hand could be found in the library. But no mention of any secret places, or lower halls could they find. After a week or so of searching she had given up and despite Łĩnwéé’s continued offer of support she had resorted to spending her time looking at the sights and sounds of the city. She had nothing else to do. She had offered to accompany Tnie with his negotiations, but it seemed that the Grûndén were only too pleased to aid the Pnook in mining below Scienocropolis. Everything had gone so well that she wasn’t really needed. In fact Tnie was preparing to return back to the Pnook city, he just awaited the preparations of the Grûndén mining contingent. Once they were ready then she was sure he would be on his way. This pleased her at least for the official reason for coming here to Gwéldølĩn had been successful.
She wished her own reasons would be equally as successful, but she had not seen or heard from Łĩnwéé who had promised to make some enquiries of his own. He had not been back to see her since they parted company outside Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd’s palace. Once more seeking the relief from boredom she was walking through the city, it was a beautiful place and every turn in the road promised a new and breath-taking vista. She now stood as she had many times before at one of her favourite places, upon one of the many arched bridges that spanned across two of the pinnacles of rock on which the city was built. She leant upon the ornate parapet and was deep in thought looking down beneath the bridge into the depths of the abyss far below. She wondered about many things. But the main thought in her mind was what Łĩnwéé might be up to, he seemed to be taking a long time in getting back to her, perhaps he had failed in his quest even given up and was too afraid to tell her.
After a while she looked up, she needed a distraction from these sombre thoughts. Crystal formations of various colours set into the rock glinted in the light of the great orbs that hung far above the city and the birds that seemed so common place flew around the pinnacle crying out to one another, sometimes alighting on the vertical rock formations, clinging on with their clawed feet and small clawed finger. She watched as they crawled about the rock face obviously quite at home here in this environment. Flowers of all sorts, colours and sizes, along with fronds of strange but beautiful looking plants also adorned the vertical rock faces all around her. She wondered at this, for none of these species of flora and fauna could be seen outside of Gwéldølĩn as far as she knew. Certainly she had never come across them. Perhaps here in the realm of the Grûndén was the only place they lived. Her eyes once more looked downwards. Clouds of fine watery spray rose up from the depths obscuring anything below several hundred metres down. She was thinking what may lay there, down in those invisible depths, hidden in the mists. Nothing of malice surely, for she could not believe anything evil may prowl within the Grûndén realm of Gwéldølĩn; it was just too beautiful a place in her eyes.
Suddenly she became aware of someone calling her name. She started and looked round just in time to see Łĩnwéé striding up the street that led to the bridge. He was waving excitedly towards her.
“Ach lassie, Dĩmmĩ be atellin’ me ye may be afoun’ here. I have news that ye may be awantin’ t’ listen to.”
Nar’Allia turned to face him a look of expectancy upon her face.
“I ‘ave abeen avisitin’ Tnie, awantin’ to know how the wee chap be farin’ he gave me an introduction t’ one o’ t’ minin’ guilds representatives that e’ be negotiatin’ with. Well we got achattin’ an’ I mentioned about o’ what we spoke, t’ lower halls an all ye unerstan’. Well ye nat be abelievin it, what e’ told me lassie but it seems that lang past now t’ Grûnden,” he shrugged, “that abeein’ t’ Grûndén, m’ people. Well we once did mine below t’ city ‘ere. T’ mines were abandoned lang ago now fo’ fear oh aweekenin’ t’ foundations o’ the city. All t’ mines were boarded up, entrance to ‘em was banned by decree o’ the Grâumin ‘imself. I suspect that these old mines ay be what is ‘abein referred to as abein’ below t’ city, t’ lower halls ye mentioned.”
Nar’Allia became quite excited and started to ask all sorts of questions, but it seemed that Łĩnwéé could not elaborate much on what he had already said. They walked back to Dĩmmĩ‘s house. Once there Łĩnwéé made his excuses and said that if they were to explore further they may need help and he was going to go and see if he could get the necessary aid, he said he was going to call in a few favours.
The following morning Nar’Allia was eating breakfast in the dining room, she was alone. She was aware of voices in the entrance hall outside and stopped sipping her tea so that she could listen. She could hear Dĩmmĩ and another Grûndén talking in their own language. Then all went quiet and the door to the dining room opened. In strode Dĩmmĩ followed by a young Grûndén in tailed coat and breeches wearing long stockings and buckled shoes. He was introduced as a messenger sent by Master Łĩnwéé. He said that Łĩnwéé had sent him to guide Nar’Allia to a place where they may meet and set about starting a small journey. Nar’Allia in her excitement left what remained of her meal and running upstairs she gathered her belongings and returned to the hallway of Dĩmmĩ ‘s house where the messenger was waiting. Before she shut the door to Serinae’s room behind her, she turned and whispered, “thank you Seri.”
The messenger bowed and after Nar’Allia had thanked Dĩmmĩ and said her farewells she followed the messenger outside and was led away through the city. Her Grûndén guide took her downhill away from the residential districts of the city and down into the lower quarter where the artisans worked and many large warehouses were built to store all manner of things. Eventually they stood outside one of these warehouse buildings and her guide knocked upon the wooden plank door. The sound of a large piece of wood being slid across was followed by the door opening a crack. There was a satisfied grunt from within and to her surprise the door was fully opened by Łĩnwéé himself. Some coin passed between Łĩnwéé and the messenger who promptly bowed to them both and walked away back up the hill in the direction that he had brought Nar’Allia just moments before.
“Aye Lassie, thank ‘e fer acomin’ so prompt like. Please come within.” He stood back and allowed Nar’Allia entrance into the building. He then placed one foot outside and up and down the street as if expecting or perhaps dreading someone else’s presence being there.
The interior was gloomy, but the space in the main was empty, nothing of any note seemed to be stored in this place at least not at the present time. Nar’Allia was told that the warehouse was normally used for storing bricks and other building materials. A spate of new building was going on at present and the warehouse was depleted of its stock somewhat. The warehouse manager had said that he awaited new materials to be brought in from the surrounding forests and quarries. The interior had a musty smell, pawls of dust swirled about in the air illuminated by shafts of light shining through the gaps in the plank walls. They walked to where Nar’Allia suspected the middle of the floor was and she stopped as she spied several figures watching their arrival through the gloom. As they approached Nar’Allia saw seven Grûndén standing in a huddle in the middle of the floor. Nar’Allia stopped a little suspicious. These seven Grûndén were dressed strangely. None had on military armour or carried axes. They didn’t look like the civilian population of the city either. All had on knee high leather boots with iron soles, thick black leather breeches showed beneath equally thick short capes that were slung over their shoulders. They wore a sort of leather head gear that fitted snuggly covering their ears and each wore an iron helmet with a wide brim. A thick leather plate, hinged into
riveted strips hung down from the back of the helm covering their necks. At the front of each helmet was a metal bracket onto which a lantern with thick crystal lenses and a short wide multi wicked tallow candle was mounted within. There was a small lever at the side of the lantern that Nar’Allia later found out could dim the light from the candle and also focus the same light into a fine beam.
Łĩnwéé introduced the seven Grûndén, not by name but as a party of miners from one of the Grûndén guilds. These miners were obviously the helpers of which he talked, she wondered what favours he had called in to get the commitment of seven skilled mining Grûndén from the guilds. But she decided not to ask, something told her that Łĩnwéé had most probably not gone through official guild channels to employ these miners and she didn’t want to know how he had gained their favour whether willingly or begrudgingly. He was quick to point out that none of them spoke any common tongue they could only converse in their own native Grûndén dialect. He seemed to think this was normal, for he said quite off-handed it seemed to Nar’Allia, “they be but t’ miner types anyways.” Again she decided not to press for more details after all she had Łĩnwéé along as translator. She thought to herself that perhaps these mining Grûndén didn’t get out much, perhaps they spent their entire days in the mines and only had other miners for company.
Łĩnwéé asked Nar’Allia to follow him, he walked straight past the Grûndén miners to the far wall of the warehouse. A square hole in the floor proved to reveal a stairwell. Łĩnwéé explained that the warehouse manager had given permission for him to explore the warehouse and it wasn’t long before he had discovered this large wooden trapdoor. It was secured shut, but they had managed to remove all the nails and seals that kept the trapdoor from opening and there revealed before them was this old stair leading down into the gloom.
Once the miner’s lamps had been lit and the seven miners had donned heavy looking and quite large backpacks. They had descended down through the main floor of the warehouse and now stood not on a wooden floor but on hard packed earth and rock. They found themselves standing in a low ceilinged area that was quite large, probably it was the same in area as the floor area of the warehouse above, for many ancient looking wooden pillars stood every few metres obviously supporting the wooden floor above their heads. Old rusting applecart tracks criss-crossed the floor and some disappeared behind sealed wooden doors set into the stone walls of the area. Nar’Allia inspected one of the doors; it seemed to be have sealed relatively recently, for the wooden seals were obviously newer looking than the ancient looking wood of the door itself. She also felt a slight arcane signature around the seals. So, the seals where either protected by arcane science, or their was a ward upon them that may injure or maim anyone trying to get past them, or perhaps sound an alarm warning someone of the impending intrusion. The seven Grûndén miners had scrutinised each of these barred doors and eventually with much discussion had come to a decision. They faced one of the doors Nar’Allia went over to take a look. Something was etched into the door itself, carved crudely but was so instantly recognisable to Nar’Allia that she cried out in shock. There set into the wood of the door was the unmistakable outline of the slit eyed face of a Dolan. One of the miners strode forward, he scrutinised the door. Then he laved his gauntleted hands on the door gingerly and took a deep breath when nothing untoward happened. He stood back and with confident authority spoke something to the other miners. Łĩnwéé nodded his head in satisfaction and when Nar’Allia looked at him he winked at her, a broad smile showing on his mouth.
One more pickaxe stroke exploded what was left of the wooden doorway. Behind musty air flowed from what looked like an old mining shaft that sloped downwards sharply. Nar’Allia felt her hair blow around her face, the moving air felt old, the air of ancient things. She shivered.
he miners lit their headlamps and Łĩnwéé waved them though. Nar’Allia was the last to enter the tunnel. Inside the place smelt musty and stale, dry air that had not been disturbed for centuries perhaps assaulted Nar’Allia’s nose. This was not helped by the thick layer of dust that lay upon the floor and was now being kicked up at every step. One miner called a halt and he walked carefully forward a few steps and then crouched looking at the ground. He muttered several words.
“’E be asayin’ none ‘as been a walkin’ dunn ‘ere for many an age. There be no footprints, nat a single one ‘ereabouts.” Łĩnwéé translated.
They proceeded along the tunnel. Nar’Allia was sure that this tunnel and wherever it led had been here a long, long time. She shivered, perhaps too long? But anyway as they got underway her thoughts lightened. The tunnel had levelled off a bit, it was still descending but not at such a rapid pace. At least it was warm down here and the light from the miners lamps meant that they could see well at least. She also consoled herself with the fact that these miners were Grûndén and they spent their lives beneath the ground. They knew what to expect and how to get around situations both expected and not so obvious. To her surprise the miners started to sing as they marched.
Łĩnwéé walked by her side. “This be what looks like’n old mine ventilation shaft, though it ‘ave nat been maintained fo’ a good few o’ years by’n t’ look o’ it.”
One of the miners was running his gloved hand across the surface of the rock wall to one side of the tunnel. Łĩnwéé listened to what the miner had to say then he told Nar’Allia, “t’ be ‘onest, it dunny look t’ be made by t’ Grûnden. Perhaps it be even older than t’ city itself.” This translation made Nar’Allia think.
“Not made by the Grûndén?” Nar’Allia shivered, what in the makers name could have made this tunnel then?
Łĩnwéé addressed the miners, obviously asking the question. The miners grunted and rumbled to each other in subdued voices. Then one of them stood upright from the huddle, he wiped his nose on his sleeve and exclaimed in a low bass voice. This translated to, “then I ‘ope we dunny be ameetin’ wit’ t’ miner then.”
Nar’Allia looked towards Łĩnwéé hoping for an explanation, but he would not meet her gaze. He just stared into nothing a worried look upon his face. Then she thought, ‘the miner?’ She had read something about avoiding the miner in one of Tezrin’s letters, he had warned Serinae to look out for the miner, or something of that sort.
They progressed on down the tunnel. It stayed looking much the same. But every now and again they came across a wider, more open area. The first of these areas they came to, caused some interest to the miners and one of the Grûndén again inspected the rock.
As usual Łĩnwéé was quick to translate for Nar’Allia. “Aha, this we did fashion. This be a holdin’ area, we widened this t’ store food an’ water an’ gear an’ t’ like in times gone by.”
The Grûndén miner proceeded to run his hands along the rock wall of the tunnel as if searching for something. Another of the Grûndén miners shouted an alarm, they turned to see the miner who had voiced concern was across the other side of the holding area crouched on all fours and looking intently at the ground. They went across to see what was up. A small discussion resulted in Łĩnwéé translating the words to mean, “’ere be footprints in t’ dust, looky ‘ere.” He pointed at the ground in front of the miners. The Grûndén started discussing the find excitedly in their own language. Nar’Allia looked over their shoulders at what had been indicated as footprints. Sure enough the dust had clear marks from the soles of someone’s boots set in it. The footprints cut clear across the holding area. But they had been made some time ago, for the dust that this person had kicked up in their passage across the floor had resettled into the footprints once again for it could be clearly seen lying above the rocky floor beneath. Then Nar’Allia had a shock. She looked at the large heavy footprints the Grûndén miners left with their iron soled boots. These other footprints were much smaller and lighter and made by thin slender leather soles. Not only that but they went in both directions. Another miner shouted and after going over to see what he had
found they saw there revealed upon the floor were another set of similar footprints much the similar to the first set they had discovered.
Nar’Allia recognised the one word that he said. It was “Vhalkéré”. She didn’t need a translation; she knew the word to be a Grûndén name, a name they used for her race, the T’Iea people. Suddenly Nar’Allia smiled, she whispered to herself, “so Serinae and even Tezrin perhaps had both been here, many years ago.”
Another of the Grûndén miners shouted in his own tongue and indicated a section of wall that even Nar’Allia could see was a slightly different texture than the surrounding wall. She only noticed it because the patterns that the tools had made in cutting the rock didn’t join up exactly in places, it looked like someone had taken a section of wall out and tried to replace it but not aligned it exactly. To Nar’Allia’s surprise the Grûndén walked forward and then disappeared right through that section of wall. A few seconds later he reappeared. He continued to mutter in his own language.
“What is it?” Asked Nar’Allia.
Łĩnwéé replied, “it be an alcove fo’ shelter, ye un’erstan’. A place t’ provide refuge.”
“Refuge? Refuge from what?”
“Ye dun’t wanner know lassie, believe me on this. What made these ‘ere tunnels is dangerous t’ extreme. A beasty from out o’ t’ voids.”
“What are they called these beasts?”
All the Grûndén turned and stared at her, Łĩnwéé wiped his gauntleted hand across his mouth as if to wipe the words away.
“I’ll nat speak t’ name o’ it ‘ere lassie, jus’ let’s ‘ope we are nat ameetin’ it t’day.”
The Grûndén miners mumbled amongst themselves, an air of discontent was definitely about them. One of their number a frown on his face went up to Łĩnwéé and a somewhat heated discussion ensued. Nar’Allia said no more for she thought it would not take much pushing to make them even more restless and fearful, she was not about to risk antagonising them further.
But eventually the argument subsided and they continued onwards. Łĩnwéé was muttering to himself. Nar’Allia couldn’t hear what he was saying but words like ‘cheatin’ and ‘danger money’ she did hear. They passed through several more holding areas; all had these places of refuge hidden behind some kind of false wall of rock. Nar’Allia went inside one with one of the Grûndén miners just to satisfy her curiosity. She wondered at how she just walked through the rock without feeling anything. She knew that arcane energies were present, but she had never experienced this type of signature strand before. Beyond the veil, for veil is what she likened these false rock walls to be, there was hidden quite a fare sized room. Seating and shelving was cut into the rock as if an attempt at comfort had been made. She wondered at how long Grûndén miners and others were expected to stay within these places of refuge, hiding from whatever unmentionable thing used to move through these tunnels. She shivered not wanting to think that it may still do, yet at the same time her T’Iea curiosity wanted to know what it was.
After a few more hours of marching and singing the downward slope of the tunnel increased dramatically, it was becoming quite treacherous to walk upright and Nar’Allia’s ankles and calf muscles were complaining of the continual pressure being exerted upon them. At last though they came upon a junction and stopped, Nar’Allia sat down thankful for the slightest respite from the sloping path, she rubbed her leg muscles attempting to get rid of their shaking and rub some life back into them. They had arrived at a fork in the tunnel. She looked to either side of her. The tunnel looked like it curved around out of sight to the left and to the right of their current position. The miners were ordered to dim their lamps. Nar’Allia found herself in a heavy blanket of darkness. She knew the Grûndén termed this darkness ‘Trûgnûén’. The term had no direct translation into T’Iea or the common tongue, the closest would be ‘deep dark’, but basically it meant that not even Grûndén miners could see anything within its dark embrace. Immediately upon her eyes being starved of all light her T’Iea senses spread out before her. She could feel the rock and the air, she could envisage the tunnels curving around. But little else presented itself here. The lamps were turned up once more and they moved off down the left hand tunnel.
Nar’Allia asked, “how do you know this is the right way?”
“We dun’t Narny, jus’, well this way be down ’ill an all, which be t’ way ye wish t’ go? So I be atakin' a calculated guess is all. An’ this path has been trod ‘afore.”
Nar’Allia had noticed that on the floor the T’Iea footprints they had been following since they were first discovered led off down this tunnel, no footprints went in the other direction to the right.
Nar’Allia started to detect heightened nervousness amongst her Grûndén companions and progress was slowed somewhat for they kept stopping and turning out their lamps every so often and stood in silence in the deep dark, waiting for something it seemed. They performed this strange exercise every fifty or so metres. Łĩnwéé halted her once more and once again her senses switched onto full power as before. But this time something presented itself, something she hadn’t felt before, at first she thought she had imagined it, but this time there was definitely something tugging at her senses. She felt a presence, a glow, something was definitely ahead in the tunnel. Her senses could easily detect it, she looked in that direction. Sure enough the presence manifested itself as a warm orange glow. It was stationary however, dormant, not flickering, mobile as she would expect to detect from something animated and living.
The miners turned up their lamps once more. Nar’Allia started to feel a real concern; she stopped them from moving forward. “There is something, further down this tunnel, I feel it. A warmth, a glow of some kind. It feels inert though, almost as if it is an afterglow, something left behind by ….. I don’t know, something old, ancient, but now reduced. Almost …..” She struggled for words, a word to describe what she felt. Only one word came to her so she said in a whisper, “dead.”
After Łĩnwéé had translated, one of the Grûndén made a snorting sound, but they walked forward and continued onwards. The presence, the glow that Nar’Allia felt in the dark seemed to increase as they went, she could now detect whatever it was in the light of the lamps. Something else was also manifesting itself. A deep feeling of nausea. She held her stomach, trying to stop it from disgorging its contents. She suspected that the feeling may just be nervousness due to her own unease, she willed the feeling down. But as they strode forward the sensation increased. She sat down heavily on the floor. She felt terrible, felt like retching.
“What be up lassie? Be ye alright?”
Nar’Allia looked up at Łĩnwéé’s concerned face. “Do you not feel it?”
“What?” Łĩnwéé looked around as if trying to determine what it was he should be feeling. But he returned his attention back to her, a deep look of concern on his face.
“I, I feel ill, dizzy. Like I’d eaten something bad and disagreeable.”
Łĩnwéé shook his head. “Come lassie let’s go.” He held out a hand and helped her to her feet.
Despite the sensations in her stomach she walked forward. But the discomfort continued to rise within her, her head started to throb and ache terribly, she wondered that she managed to actually walk, all she wanted to do was lay on the floor and tuck her knees up in an attempt to relieve the terrible discomfort. But then they rounded a bend and a Grûndén gave a cry of alarm, he pointed along the tunnel in the direction they had been traveling. Nar’Allia followed his pointing finger. There blocking the way was a mass of silvery-white coloured sticks, or shafts of wood perhaps; it looked like a shining cage. Nar’Allia imagined a set of bars were set into the rock blocking their way, but there was no pattern to it, it was a pile of what looked like metal rods of all shapes and sizes. Nar’Allia imagined someone had discarded an old, large and very battered birdcage of complicated design in the tunnel. A large birdcage big enough she thought to hold several Gr�
�ndén in fact. But Nar’Allia knew that this was the source of the glow and of her discomfort. She fell to her knees. But then she must have fainted. When she came to she was vaguely aware of Grûndén voices shouting as Łĩnwéé dragged her back the way they had come.
The next thing she knew Nar’Allia awoke lying on a rock shelf. She looked around she was obviously inside one of the refuge rooms back along the tunnel, possibly the same one she had entered before. She groaned and closed her eyes.
Łĩnwéé came over to her, he took a deep breath, “ach ma wee lassie, ye be wit’ us yet.” He smiled and offered something to her, it was a cup. “’Ere lassie ye be adrinkin’ this ‘ere brew now, it’ll do ye good.”
She leant upon one elbow and took the offered cup. She held it to her lips and tilted the cup expecting some warm tea perhaps to flow into her mouth. But what she hoped for was far from what she actually felt. A cold, thick and clammy liquid like watery mud entered her mouth, she wretched and spat it out. She looked up at Łĩnwéé a look of disgust on her face. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve; there she saw several smears of a horrid grey looking liquid that contained small pieces of what looked like stone. She went to give the cup back to Łĩnwéé, shaking her head as she did so.
He shoved her hand back towards her. “Ye have been poisoned lassie, ‘ere drink it, it be t’ antidote. I know it dun’t look much and tastes like sh… that is I mean muck, but it’ll do ye good, believe me now.”
She looked sceptically at the cup, but she trusted Łĩnwéé so drank as much of the liquid as she could stomach. Swallowing the thick gunge was horrible as well as being quite difficult. But she managed two or three gulps.
Łĩnwéé nodded in satisfaction and took the cup back off her. “That’s m’girly. Ye can ‘ave more later. Fo’ now ye rest a bit befo’ we be amovin’ on.”
Nar’Allia coughed, “what was that thing. Down there in the tunnel. That pile of ….”.
Łĩnwéé turned to look at her once more. “ah. Well what we came across were the remains o’ a nameless fear. The bones o’ a Doglomite. They be made o’ some kind of mineral almost a metal ye know. Sometimes we come across t’ stuff whilst mining, if ye stay around it fo’ too lang ye gets a sickness.” He indicated towards her.
Nar’Allia nodded in understanding. Then she thought of what he had just told her. She had heard that name before, Doglomite. These creatures had been mentioned by Minervar. They were creatures from the voids with an incredibly high body temperature. The Grûndén used them to help them mine. They had some inbuilt energy that melted the rock on which they fed. Normal creatures could not get anywhere near them for fear of being incinerated.
Then as if I confirmation of her thoughts, Łĩnwéé continued, “we use em’, t‘ beasties I mean, well did use ‘em t’ mine tunnels. They be creatures o’ t’ voids, brought here by the keepers. Their bodies are naturally hot, very hot. Jus’ t’ stand near one would sear the flesh from ye and burn yur bones to ash. But they can mine through t’ rock much faster than can we wit’ metal tools an’ blastin’ powders. Even when dead ye have to be careful o’ ‘em, fo’ the bones, even in death, still give forth a poisonous aura. We call the bones o’ the beasties Urrânééûmn. If there be none o’ those queer folk, t’ old ones around t’ send t’ bones back to t’ voids the only way o’ safely disposin’ o’ t’ stuff be t’ bury it in a mass o’ rock, fo, those bones, they be acarry’n t’ sickness forever. Seems ye be unlucky lassie ye ‘an t’ T’Iea be a tad more susceptible to the effects o’ that aura than be we Grûndén it seems.”
After a few hours rest and several more tortuous gulps of the antidote liquid administered on Łĩnwéé’s insistence, Nar’Allia began to feel much better and able once more to stand and walk again. They left the sanctuary of the alcove and regaining the same junction they had come across before took the right hand tunnel the opposite way from the remains of the Doglomite. This proved to be a good choice for after an hour or so, Nar’Allia could sense daylight and she could hear the wonderful sound of rushing water. This spurred her on and before many more minutes had passed they came out of the tunnel and onto a wide platform of rock. A rickety wooden balustrade ran along the far edge. Nar’Allia walked over to this point breathing deeply of the fresh damp air. She made to lean upon the balustrade, the wood creaked and then gave way, most fell to dust and she pitched forward overbalancing. She gasped, but a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the rock platform.
“Careful thar’ lassie,”
She nodded her thanks at Łĩnwéé grateful for his quick reactions and looked around at her surroundings.
They had exited the tunnel out onto a wide ledge upon a cliff face. Looking up she could see the face of the cliff, but the view soon disappeared into the mists. Looking down, several hundred metres below where they stood she could see an enormous swirling mass of dark blue water. It looked like someone somewhere was stirring boiling water in a pan, waves and splashes covered the surface of the water in a complete haphazard way. She looked around her, several pinnacles of rock rose vertically from the depths and rose upwards until they disappeared into the thickening mists above them. Several large waterfalls cascaded down from high above exploding into the waters of the lake below. It was a deafening but breath taking sight. More of the reptilian birds could be seen flying around them, but these were less colourful than those she had seen in the city. These had feathers of black mostly, but there was a beauty about the way the dark feathers caught the light reflecting hues of deep blue and green. These birds did not seem to want to fly into the mists above, preferring to stay near the water’s surface. Strange succulent plants grew from the rock face, long colourful leaves hung downwards as did thin snake-like stems, each had a large vase-like growth on the end. She approached one and saw that this pitcher-like growth was semi-transparent, fluid filled the lower half of the growth like a half empty glass. She could see tiny creatures swimming around in this fluid. She heard a buzzing sound and turned towards it just in time to duck as a beetle as large as the palm of her hand flew by and hit the rock face with an audible thud. The hapless creature bounced off and tried again. This went on several times until the creature approached one of the pitcher plants. Suddenly a thin tendril shot out from the pitcher and stabbed at the beetle. Whether it had been pierced or whether the end of the tendril was sticky she didn’t know, but the beetle became hooked and the tendril was drawn in towards the plant. Several other tendrils shot out and the beetle was held fast. Nar’Allia watched in disgust as the poor hapless insect was drawn down into the pitcher to be drowned in the fluid at its base. She looked at the rock floor beneath the plant, a pile of discarded beetle carapaces could be seen, obviously the inedible, or indigestible part of the plants prey. This seemed like an alien world, it was difficult to believe that what she saw here was part of Gwéldølĩn, she had never seen anything like it, yet it still had a beauty of its own.
She walked around the parapet taking in the vistas. Lianas and other vine-like plants festooned the rock faces around her, large trumpet shaped flowers reached outwards from the rock as if in competition with each other. The reptilian-like birds flew around screeching and hanging onto the rock walls whilst they pecked at berries and flowers and other foods just like their more colourful cousins the other side of the mists high above.
All thoughts of the pitcher plant forgotten she said, “this is beautiful,” that was all she could bring herself to say.
At one end of the platform on which they stood a cliff path cut into the face of the cliffs ran around the face of the rock descending downwards at a steady pace just like the tunnels they had travelled though earlier. The path was not wide, but they could traverse along it comfortably in single file. In places the path took a steep drop and sometimes they found themselves going down stairs that had been hewn into the cliff face. For the most part the route followed the natural lie of the rock, but occasionally whoever had cut this path was forced to execute a degree o
f engineering to traverse certain difficult sections. A couple of times where the path was forced to cross deep chimneys set into the cliff, a rope bridge had been slung across. These Nar’Allia found reminiscent of the T’Iea’Tarderi town she called home. Similar constructions spanned across the trees there and she did not mind crossing these slightly precarious things. But based on the condition of the parapet Nar’Allia had lent upon earlier, whenever they came across one of these rope bridges, one of the miners would test it for strength before they all crossed. On one occasion one of these brave stout little men took a tumble when the rope bridge collapsed beneath him, his fellows hung onto the safety rope he had tied to him and had to haul him back up to the path. But the miners then produced ropes and wooden rungs from their gear and quickly remade the bridge. Nar’Allia watched with interest as various component parts were withdrawn from packs and bags and a large crossbow was assembled. A large bolt fitted into the breach of the crossbow to which a rope was securely attached by a metal ring. The crossbow was aimed and fired the bolt shot high up towards the far cliff face and embedded itself into the rock. Once the security of the bolt was established, one of the Grûndén used the attached rope to swing across to the far side carrying another sturdier rope. In this way the first spans of the bridge were made and within a mornings work a safe and reasonable rope bridge had been constructed across the gorge. Once more all the gear was disassembled and stowed back from where it came and they continued on their journey.
They seemed to be spiralling around the great pinnacle of rock, one of many that rose from the waters at the base of the great cavern. Nar’Allia knew that the great city of the Grûndén was built high above her upon the plateaus of these pinnacles. Exactly how far above where they now walked along the spiral way that encircled this vast rock pillar she had no way of knowing. Nar’Allia continued to look around her. It was quite a different, somehow older world down here, familiar in a way, but also with its own primeval peculiarities probably because of its isolation. She wondered, if Serinae had walked these paths, had taken this same route to steal a few hours in the company of the one she loved? Nar’Allia liked to think so, she imagined the two of them standing here hand in hand, embracing, enjoying their stolen moment of solitude away from their responsibilities and the demands of others. This beautiful vista splayed out before them. Their own secret place, a place well away from the trials and tribulation of the other world above.
Then all of a sudden without any warning she found she stepped out upon a sandy beach. The Grûndén were already huddled around looking down at something beyond the beach itself. Nar’Allia came to stand by their sides and there running from the beach out into the blue water which was now quiet and still, presumably because it was not so near to any of the waterfalls, there stood quite clearly a wooden jetty. They all walked forward onto the jetty and Nar’Allia could see a small boat tied securely to a post at the far end. The boat was circular in shape, made from some kind of hide stretched across a curved wooden frame like a large basket. It was reminiscent of an old T’Iea design called a C’Or’Chul’E used for stealth when fishing in the still waters of a lake. It must have been old for the leather had hardened and the tar that was daubed over the hide hull presumably to make it fully waterproof was also hard and cracked in places. It was a small vessel; there was only room for one that was obvious from the size. A metal chain was tied close by, quite low down on the post that the little boat was tied to, it was obviously tied to something else at its other end, for it extended out over the waters, dipping down into the water itself a few metres from shore. The final destination of the chain could not be seen as it was obscured from view in the thin mist that lay over the waters.
“Thar’ be yu’r ferry lassie, ye use t’ chain t’ guide yur’ way.” It was Łĩnwéé who spoke.
Nar’Allia nodded, she had already worked that out but she didn’t say so. Instead she felt sadness; she also felt a degree of anxiety. She hadn’t thought about it before, the fact that she may be left alone at some point in this journey, but it was obvious that point had come; it seemed to come quite suddenly and without warning. The ferry boat would not take more than a one at a time so once over the other side it would have to stay there until the person, or someone else returned. It occurred to Nar’Allia that whoever built the boat should have tied a rope to it so that at least it could be dragged back. But then if Serinae was the builder and the sole user then perhaps she would not have need for such an adaptation and she would be trapped on the far side if the boat were to be returned to this shore. Nar’Allia turned to the Grûndén; she thanked each of the miners individually. They each bowed low to her. She then turned and faced Łĩnwéé. This was the moment she least wanted. She had to take a moment to push down the emotions that rose in her and to steady her resolve. “Thank you master Grûndén, for everything.”
Łĩnwéé smiled and shrugged, “’twas m’ pleasure lassie, go find that Mini fo’ me eh?” He handed her the envelope, the one that contained the Dolan. “My guess is ye’ll be aneedin’ this trinket befor’ lang.” He held her hand and kissed it, then bowed low with a flourish.” Just ye be sure now, t’ come back t’ tell me t’ story eh?” Nar’Allia looked at the envelope, she stepped forward and bending down hugged Łĩnwéé tightly. He helped her into the small boat and then bent to untie the rope that held it from sailing away in the current.
He winked at her and stood back. “Ye look after ye’self lassie, ye hear me now?”
Nar’Allia just nodded, the lump in her throat would not allow words to pass. Her last view of Łĩnwéé was him standing alone upon the beach his hand held high in a gesture of farewell, for the other Grûndén had already started the long climb back up to the city. He had a broad smile upon his face, it showed through his beard, but soon he disappeared into the mists and she was alone in the damp silence. She continued to pull upon the chain, hand over hand and the little boat bobbed along with her movements. She felt frightened for soon she was completely enveloped in the mists and could not see either shore. She wondered if this was such a good idea after all, but consoled herself with the thought that at least two T’Iea had been here before, perhaps many times.
Several times she had to stop to rest. The chain although not thick was heavy just because of the length of it. Its weight made the small boat dip down onto one side, several times she had to slow her progress because the rocking motion as she pulled hand over hand did indeed dip the edge of the boat below the water so that the freezing liquid cascaded into the boat. One time she had to stop to bail out with her bare hands. She made sure that the chain itself was secured within the boat, to lose it over the side now would mean she could not retrieve it, for here this far from shore the chain would sink out of reach below the surface in its natural curve. By the time she had finished her hands had become so cold she had lost all feeling in them. She was forced to sit there and blow into her cupped hands for some time before she could once more grasp the chain and continue on her journey.
She pressed on, water from the chain had soaked her gloves and was again threatening to deaden all feeling in her hands, but she didn’t want to stop again for the mist that surrounded her played havoc with her imagination. But then she noticed that the chain ahead did not fall into the water as she loosened her grip upon it to move along its length and haul upon it once more. Then almost immediately another wooden jetty came out of the mist, so unprepared was she that the small boat bumped against it heavily and she fell backwards, water from the bottom of the boat flooded down the back of her collar and she shivered. She stood quickly and stepped up onto the jetty. She then tied the boat off with the rope that hung there.
She looked around; she was obviously at the base of another of the cities pinnacles of rock, for everything looked remarkably similar to the jetty she had just left including a sandy beach of the same coloured sand beyond. It did occur to her that maybe she had somehow become confused and somehow ended up pulling the ferry and hersel
f back to where she had embarked upon this little voyage. Perhaps she had become turned about without knowing whilst she warmed her hands. She panicked, she did not want to have to do that activity all over again, her hands and arms were tired and several ugly blisters adorned her palms, some already burst making her hands sting terribly. Her undershirt clung clammily all the way down her back where it had soaked up the water from the boat. She shivered and gathered her arms around her tightly in an effort to warm or to console herself. She took in several deep breaths, forced herself to be calm and told herself that going back, turning around would be impossible. She felt so alone. She found herself wishing that she had Serinae’s old black bow or her quiver. One or other of those items she felt would provide welcome company in this time of need. She was sure that Serinae would have some advice, something to say about where she found herself and what to do next. For surely Serinae herself had made this same journey, perhaps many times to be with the one she loved so much. This thought made her feel better and she found her courage returning. She told herself that anything the T’Iea ranger could do, she too could also accomplish.
Nar’Allia wondered if she would be returning in the little boat, perhaps walk once more the fare streets of the city that now lay so far above. She looked up into the heavy swirling mists. She shook her head; somehow she knew that she would not. She then turned to see where to exit this part of the journey; her future lay in that direction, whatever that future may hold. A dark open hole in the cliff across the beach could be seen a short way up a couple of flights of wooden steps. Nar’Allia shivered involuntarily and walked forward, she hesitated briefly before she placed her foot upon the first step and went up towards the darkness that so beckoned her forward.
