He had been walking for some time, ever downwards. His shivering had begun to subside, yet his limbs felt weighted with lead. The rumblings had been left far behind and only the increasingly loud echo of rushing water could be heard still ahead. The tunnel then began to grow smaller once more, its sides slick and smooth, until Samuel came to the point where he could see its end. Angling down sharply, the tunnel formed into a narrow sluice. Samuel judged it to be treacherously slippery, and cautiously he began down, placing each footstep with the utmost care lest he should slip and fall to some jagged death. The stone had been worn as slick as ice where the underground stream had run its course for years unknown.
The sound of water had become a roar and Samuel could feel moisture thick in the air. He managed to slide cautiously down the tunnel on his backside, until he came to a gaping drop at its end. An underground river surged below—a thundering torrent of white water rushing by, illuminated by his hovering mage-lights. The tunnel edge was treacherous and slippery and Samuel had to keep his hands pushed out firmly against the walls to hold himself in place.
To the left of this opening, almost within arms’ reach, the river began, surging furiously from the stone and dropping down far below. There, the white foaming water swirled and bubbled and rushed away through a black opening. Samuel craned his neck out and scanned the walls for any other openings, but was disappointed to find only flat stone. He waited there in the tunnel mouth for some feeling of resolve to help him choose his fate. There was nowhere to go but down, out through that crack.
As he sat there, frozen and miserable, his worst fears began to be realised. His mage-lights, which had been growing smaller all the while, began winking out. There was no energy left with which to support them and so, one by one, they faded from existence, leaving him in complete and utter darkness. ‘Damn,’ was all he could think to say, but the word was lost amongst the roar of the water.
The shivering magician sat, propped at the tunnel’s edge, and waited for something to happen, some miracle to come and return even a little of his strength, but nothing did. Still, he sat and shivered in the darkness and nothing else occurred except for the water’s endless roaring and falling and surging and gurgling. He had hoped that, given time, he would feel stronger again, but all he felt now was the desire to lie down and die and, with each passing moment, the prospect only became all the more inviting. Lost in the darkness and the river’s roar, Samuel could barely feel his existence at all. Most of his body was now numb. Only his thoughts remained as evidence he was still living at all.
Taking one last heavy breath and forcing his rigid arms to relax, he leant forward and let himself topple into the void. Hurtling down into the total darkness, his body felt almost weightless. The air blew a cool breath into his face, like a final tender kiss. Then the water struck him with a violent slap and it thundered in his ears.
Sudden shocking cold entered him as he plunged into the freezing depths, with roaring and babbling in his ears. The weight of the waterfall fell upon him and drove him further down, the immense weight crushing him. His eyes were open, yet could see nothing. He kicked and found air and cried out with shock and pain before being dragged under once more. He could feel motion as the water carried him and then it sucked at him and for an instant there was air again and he took half a gulping breath before being sucked under and tossed and turned every which way. Rocks struck at his knees and elbows and head, and he careered into and over them at the current’s whim. He took a great mouthful of water as again he was pulverised, and he vomited at once before being forced to take another watery breath.
Then there was light and Samuel spilled out into vacant air. He caught a glimpse of a vast, underground lake in a dimly-lit cavern; then he splashed down, swallowed once more by the icy waters. He fought with the last of his strength for the surface and came up, coughing and emptying water from his stomach once more. He could barely tread water as he tried to overcome the horrible nausea that filled him. The water was in his boots and pulled him down with each kick. His breathing was frantic and he had no goal but to desperately keep his chin above the water. Something struck his boots and Samuel kicked out, feeling hard rock. He took a tenuous step and, finding more firm stone under his foot, he struggled forward. Each step raised him higher until he was only wading up to his thighs—yet the water felt like molasses around him. His body felt enormous—almost as if strings were tied around him and were pulling him down relentlessly. He drove himself towards a nearby island of stone. Step after step he forced himself on until, utterly exhausted, he struggled out of the water and collapsed on the hard stone floor. He coughed and retched out copious amounts of water as he rolled onto his side, labouring for breath. His entire body felt ruined. His muscles had been screaming for relief and now they had it, they ached in entirely new and excruciating ways. Still, he was alive. For the first time, he managed to form a conscious thought: By the gods! I am still alive!
He lay panting and coughing for what seemed like hours, slipping in and out of consciousness, until the skittering of some tickling insect across his face, roused him back to awareness.
From this position, he could see much of the cavern that surrounded him. Water cascaded in from several gaps high in the wall, lit by multitudes of tiny glowing worms that seemed to hang from the ceiling on milky, silken threads, shining with a pale green light. The water ran to the edges of the great cavern, where it drained though unseen cavities. Ledges and rocky outcrops jutted from the high walls, like the balconies of an underground city. Samuel continued staring upwards, gawking at the enormous stone cavern like someone seeing stars for the first time ever, until darkness crept around his vision once more, and he passed out.
After some time, Samuel awoke and the first thing he realised was that he could not move. His muscles had knotted up so tightly as to paralyse him. With great strength of will he forced himself up into a sitting position. He felt weak to the core and was tempted to lie down again, but he knew that he would only become weaker by lingering here. He needed to be dry and warm and have some food in his stomach. Only then would he be safe. Only then could he rest. His belly felt knotted and it stung as if he had swallowed glass or nails. Escape was foremost on his mind, but in his current condition he had little chance of going anywhere. Sitting on the stone, he felt entombed within the earth. Hours passed as his mind struggled in and out of consciousness. Finally, his mind began to assemble itself into some semblance of sanity. I am alive! he remembered thinking. He wanted to shout it out in all directions, but something made him fearful of speaking aloud. He was afraid that no sound would come from his throat if he tried and perhaps he was dead after all. He slapped his cheeks and pinched his fingernails in attempt to shake the stupor from himself and, slowly, it seemed to work.
He struggled to his feet and examined his surroundings. From his ledge, he could walk around the perimeter of the cavern, where a series of outcrops rose along the wall. He was sure he would not survive another voyage in the water and so he sought other means of escaping. He began clambering up the rocky ledges, with each movement a struggle, and passed many dark openings leading away into the earth. He dreaded having to leave the stone-lit sanctuary and entering the unknown darkness, but then felt something that almost made him cry out with joy—a slight movement of air on his face.
It was just a tiny motion, but Samuel was sure that, just for a moment, the air had stirred and moved towards him. He scraped his boot amongst the stones at his feet to mark the narrow passage and continued exploring the chamber. He waited momentarily before each of the other passages, but none gave him any hint of wind or breeze. Eventually, Samuel made his way back to the marked passage. He began into that black opening and was quickly swallowed by the darkness.
He felt his way along the walls, step by step, slowly through the dark, with nothing but the hollow echoes from the cavern behind him and the scraping of his sodden boots upon the gravelly floor. He would have taken them off, but the
ground was jagged in places and would lacerate his feet in moments. He continued on, ignorant of the time passing, tripping over stones and fumbling over rocks, until the sounds of water behind had long ceased and he felt entombed in his solitude, deep beneath the earth. All he could hear were his own breaths and grunts of exertion. Even his footsteps came echoing back from the dark as if to haunt him. Each one was a painful accusation, a testimony of his breaking of the silence—silence that until now had ruled this unexplored realm beneath the earth absolutely and without exception. Almost certainly, he feared some terrible retribution, but he pushed himself on without pause. His lips moved silently and incessantly in prayer, in the hope that whatever titanic gods were observing him from their lairs in the darkness would be compassionate and would let him continue, if only he did not stop.
The breeze did not return, but Samuel could not turn back. He could not abandon his one hope of escape. Soon, even the fear of things watching him disappeared. Often he stopped and waited, straining to sense some movement of air, licking his finger with his dry tongue, but he could feel nothing. He continued on, following the twisting and turning passage until his hand, pressed against the wall to guide him, was worn and sore.
It was then the tunnel ended in an abrupt wall. He fumbled his hands all over it, but it was solid rock. Almost in tears and about to set back the way he had come, Samuel felt something cold against his ankles. Ducking low, he could feel a soft breeze coming through a fissure in the rocks. He sucked a finger and then stuck his arm in as far as it would go, feeling the coolness of moving air on the end of his digit. There was nothing left to do but drop onto his stomach and pull himself into the gap. He groaned and grunted beneath the rocks and was terrified for a moment when he became wedged in tight, but a bit of sideways wriggling meant he found a gap and he continued wriggling his way in. The dust filled his sightless eyes and he coughed in the darkness, making echoes that raced in all directions. A crack of light became visible far above through a long, narrow crevice and he turned his head as much as he could to stare at the distant light with one eye. It was impossible to squeeze himself into that tiny crack above and so he lay there for long moments, savouring the delightful presence of sunlight filtering down from somewhere far, far above. He dragged himself on, feeling hope at the mere presence of sunlight, determined to set himself free from the earth’s deathly embrace.
The lone magician dragged himself along the rough stones with renewed vigour. He felt sure that his body would be covered in cuts and bruises, but all that would not matter if he could just get out under the open sky.
Finally, the feeling of confinement vanished and Samuel could feel open space all around as he pulled himself from the crack in the stone. He climbed to his feet and stumbled into the wall, finding his bearings. He laughed aloud as he peered far ahead, for there was something up ahead he could almost see. As he neared the place, he grew more assured and hurried himself along; limping and staggering towards the growing light. He could clearly see the walls around him now and as the tunnel grew into a great yawning cavern, Samuel could see the bright whiteness of day up ahead. He hobbled and pushed himself to go on, until, jubilant, he came to the cavern’s end and careered over onto his stomach to lie in the warm embrace of the sun as it flooded down upon him. At first, he could see nothing and was forced to keep his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Slowly, he became accustomed to the daylight and the shapes and colours of the outside world slowly became apparent.
He lay splayed out in the cave’s mouth, halfway up a short slope and facing another hillside, which also was pocked with numerous similar cave openings. He smiled under the touch of the sun and laughed aloud at being free of the weight of the earth. Never again would he venture into such smothering depths.
He staggered down the slope and made the narrow valley floor. It seemed like afternoon and he supposed he had been trapped beneath the earth all day. He peered up the valley. He guessed that he had come a fair way downhill and that the keep must be located somewhere atop one of these hills. He began hiking on unsteady legs, hoping his sense of direction would somehow serve him true.
A trail of smoke, snaking up into the sky, made Samuel hurry, and it was not long until he clambered up a steep rise and could see the ruined keep. Smoke was slowly curling up from its centre. It had taken some hours to navigate the steep slopes of the escarpment, and now the thought of impending darkness hurried Samuel on. As he neared the keep and began to round its broken walls towards the gate, a shout came up and one of Captain Orrell’s men, Valiant, came running to his side.
‘Where on earth did you come from, Magician?’ the man asked in disbelief.
Samuel smiled and went to answer, but only managed to choke on his words. Valiant had Samuel’s arm slung over his shoulder and began dragging him into the keep. Surrounded by the other magicians, a large fire was burning at the courtyard’s edge. Rocks and rubble lay against the three remaining walls and the buildings behind all lay shattered and broken. Across the centre of the keep, a long depression marked the ground where the earth had fallen in. Samuel thanked his luck he had time to escape, or he would be buried now, far below.
‘Samuel!’ Master Glim and Lomar cried together and they all hurried over to him.
They fussed and bothered over him, asking him all sorts of questions and wondering how he was still alive, and all Samuel could do was cough and laugh; he had strength for little else. They helped him nearer the fire and prepared some bedding. Samuel remembered almost diving down upon it and his head just making contact with the bundle of clothes that would serve as his pillow. After that, sleep had him and he knew no more.
When Samuel awoke, he found himself in Captain Orrell’s camp. The sun was fairly high and he felt like some life had crept back into him. The others had obviously set some spells around him and he felt all the better for them and a decent sleep. He could see everyone’s backs around the campfire. He roused himself and went over to the others, who were speaking loudly, deep in conversation.
‘What are we talking about?’ Samuel asked with a raspy voice, sitting amongst them. ‘And what is there to eat?’
‘It’s good to see you back with the living,’ Lomar said. ‘We are just discussing what on earth to do next.’
Master Glim leaned over and carefully scooped a bowl of steaming hot stew from the pot that was now boiling away over the fire. He handed it, with a spoon, to Samuel who began to throw the food down without even the slightest of hesitation. ‘You gave us a terrible fright, Samuel,’ the teacher said. ‘Even poor Lomar was beside himself with fear that you were lost. Goodness, I’ve never seen him so upset.’
At that, the tall and dark magician looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s only natural to show concern,’ he explained.
‘Now you’re awake, you can tell us how on earth you managed to escape?’ Eric asked from opposite the fire. ‘We all thought you were dead for sure.’
Samuel shrugged his shoulders and swallowed some of his meal. ‘I fell down the well,’ he managed to say through a mouthful of stew.
‘We know that much,’ Lomar said, ‘and we began digging for you as carefully as we could. Of course, we were all horrified when the tunnel collapsed. How did you find your way free?’
‘I could hear you lot doing your best to bring the roof down on me, so I did my best to be out of there,’ Samuel explained. ‘I managed to find my way through the caves eventually, but I honestly thought I would never set my eyes upon the sun again.’
‘Ah,’ Captain Orrell said. ‘I’d heard there were many caves in this area. Lucky for you, I’d say.’
‘What of the creature?’ Samuel asked. ‘I assume the plan was a success. It is dead, isn’t it?’
Master Glim nodded. ‘When we pried back the stones, it was crushed dead, sure enough.’
‘You used enough weight then?’ Samuel questioned, burning his lips as he attempted to shovel down as much food as he could.
‘Half of the keep,’ Master G
lim replied. ‘We burned the creature all day and night. Its carcass was quite stubborn and it had a foul stench like nothing else. We made sure to keep a good distance.’
Samuel nodded. ‘Aye. I could not believe the thing was so strong. I wonder how those magicians ever managed to summon it.’
‘We have been discussing the same,’ Master Glim said. ‘I have never heard of such a creature.’
‘The magicians had been tampering with unknown forces,’ Lomar told them. ‘We found a few notes on their studies: black magic and foul arts. It seems they believed they could control anything which they summoned, but they were caught unprepared by what actually arrived. If what Sebastian said was true, they meant to ready the thing for us.’
‘Which leads us to Garret and his men,’ Captain Orrell said. ‘I’m starting to believe that they weren’t even told to meet us here. This whole mission stinks of foul play. It seems we were being sent into an ambush. We’re pulling back to Hammenton today and then it won’t take me long to find out and, when I do, there will be hell to pay. Someone will pay the cost for every one of my lost men.’
Master Glim spoke up. ‘I’ve been thinking about what Sebastian told us. He was certainly mad, but that doesn’t mean he could not have been telling us the truth. I suspect that Ash and Dividian may still be in Cintar, and that they are in league with High Lord Rimus and perhaps others still. We were obviously manipulated into coming here and Rimus seemed quite keen about the whole idea.’
‘We cannot know that for sure, Samuel,’ Lomar rebutted, ‘but it’s true that High Lord Rimus has been behaving strangely since the Emperor’s death.’
The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) Page 62
