Dead Silver

by Max Florschutz

  “No, there isn’t.” The cave dimmed as he flipped his flashlight off, clipping it back onto his belt. “But I think we’re in a good place to use one of these.” He popped a flare out of one of his pockets and pointed it slightly upwards, giving the plastic tab on the end a short, violent tug.

  The flare burst out of the tube with a vivid flash, casting a pale, pinkish light over everything as it shot forward. I covered my eyes for a moment then dropped my hands as the beacon bounced off of the far wall, fell down and—

  “Oh,” Rocke said, his words summing up my reaction completely. The flare hit the ground, its light providing more than enough illumination to see the entirety of the cave we found ourselves in. It wasn’t entirely natural. What we could see of the ceiling and walls showed signs of right-angle cuts where stone had been carved away, with embankments of natural earth that ran along both walls. We stood on one, and it was a pretty clear sign that what had once been a natural cave had been developed by man. But that wasn’t what had grabbed our attention.

  No, that was the carpet of bones covering the floor. They stretched on in every direction, endless piles of glistening white bone shining pink under the light of the flare. My jaw dropped as I picked out human skulls, arms, leg bones, rib cages …

  “It’s a graveyard,” I said, managing to speak as I continued to run my eyes across the macabre scene. “How many—?”

  “Hundreds,” Rock said as the flare drifted down into the field of bones, throwing strange shadows across the cavern—twisted, jagged things that sent a shiver down my spine.

  “They must have killed their entire workforce, before they left,” I said as I stepped forward, stopping just shy of the sharp downslope that led down to the horrifying field in front of me.

  “Not quite,” Rocke said. “I don’t think the Aztecs had those.” His headlamp glinted off of something as he nodded. A belt buckle.

  “Oh,” I said as I my own lamp began picking out even more details. A shoe. A wallet. A climbing harness.

  “I’ll bet these go on for a long ways,” Rocke said, pulling another flare from his pocket. There was a snap-hiss, and another pink starburst shot out, this time heading down one end of the tunnel. “If they’ve been needing at least one person a year to keep this thing going, there must be hundreds of bodies down here.”

  I shivered as the flare came to rest, the far edges of its light showing off a rougher, more natural cavescape. There was another pop, and a third flare shot down the other end of the tunnel. More bones. More stone. Wooden cross-bracing that stretched up some of the walls.

  “Well,” I said with a nod at Rocke as he dropped the spent tube. “At least we know which way—”

  “Look out!” Rocke’s eyes went wide as he yelled, his gun coming up and pointing right at me. I shoved myself to one side, twisting to land on my back. I had a brief glimpse of a skull, its smooth surface a pale pink in the light of the flares, save for the burning red sigils carved all over it—before a titanic roar filled the cavern. The Wraith’s head blew apart, bone shattering as the bullet from Rocke’s gun punched through it. My staff came up just in time to block something large and heavy from slamming into my chest, and the impact punched my elbows into the ground instead. I shoved back, pushing the weight away and sending it tumbling into the darkness even as a series of sharp impacts rang out all across my body. I scrambled backwards, only to stop as I saw the bones lying across my chest separate and roll off of me, their runes slowly fading.

  “Are you all right?” Rocke asked, as he crouched next to me, smoke still curling from the barrel of his .44.

  “Yeah,” I said, sitting up and trying not to shiver as the ancient bones rolled off of me. “Where’d that thing come from?”

  “I don’t know,” Rocke said, as he gave me a hand up. “But it was fast.” He bent down and picked up the large, paddle-like object that had bit into my staff. “At least now we know where that weird bit of obsidian came from.”

  The object he held in his hands was like nothing I’d ever seen before. “Paddle” hadn’t been far from the truth. It looked like a canoe paddle, but with a longer blade, thick and carved from some sort of heavy wood. Triangular bits of obsidian like the one we’d found earlier were embedded all along the edges. I checked the edge of my staff, wincing as I saw bright, jagged gouges in the wood, like the teeth marks from a large animal.

  “Good thing I had my staff,” I said, grabbing the hilt of the Wraith’s weapon with my free hand and giving it an experimental swing. “This thing would really mess somebody up. These guys don’t mess around.”

  “No kidding.” Rocke took the paddle back and flipped it over. “Here,” he said, tapping a small, dark scribble on the back. “Preservation rune, from the looks of it. This thing was probably here when the original Aztecs were.”

  “Should we take it?”

  Rocke shook his head. “No. There’s a chance they might know where it is.” I nodded.

  Ahead of us, the first of the flares began to sputter and die, its pinkish light flaring brightly before fading almost completely away, only to snap back to full strength a moment later. The strobing flashes threw the cave into flickering shadow, and my eyes tried in vain to keep up with the rapid shifts.

  “So,” I said, my heart still pounding from my close shave. “Further in?”

  “Sure. Just one second.” Rocke tossed the paddle aside and crouched down next to one of the Wraith’s bones. I caught a faint whiff of magic, and I brushed my nose, hand coming away slightly sticky with blood.

  Great, I thought as I found a small cut across my cheek. Apparently the fragments from the Wraith’s skull had been sharper than I’d thought. I hope I don’t get some kind of weird infection from this.

  “Nothing,” Rocke said, tossing the bone away as he stood.

  “Pardon?” I asked as he turned and looked down the cave, his features harsh in the guttering light of the flare.

  “The runes,” he said, shaking his head. “There are three on that arm alone, and I have no idea what they do. I’m not an expert on runecrafting or anything, but—” He shook his head again. “Forget it. Let’s just get moving before any more of them show up.”

  “And if they do?” I asked, turning to follow him deeper into the cave, expanding my senses slightly. Nothing but darkness and the constant, oppressive feel of blood magic.

  “Then we hope they go down as easy as this one did,” Rocke said. “And if not, let’s hope we see them before they see us.”

  I nodded, a shudder running down my spine as we moved down the cave, the only sounds the hiss of the flares mixing with the faint crunch of gravel. We passed the second flare—me with my staff up, Rocke with his gun raised—and now that the light was at our backs, our bodies threw long shadows down the length of the cave in front of us that jumped with every flicker of the flare’s light.

  Mindful of how easily we’d been surprised before, I kept both hands on my staff and my eyes in constant motion, jumping between the gravel path ahead of us, the ceiling above us, and—most often—the field of skeletons below us. It was hard not to let my skin crawl every time I glanced at them. It was hard to imagine that so many of them had been down here for so long. How many of the Wraiths’ victims had even understood what was happening before they’d had their blood sucked from them? How many had simply been passing through the area, hikers or campers just looking to relax and enjoy the scenery?

  Rocke slowed as our headlamps hit another opening in the cave wall, similar to the one we’d come out of. We gave it a wide berth, pausing long enough to check and make certain that there wasn’t anything inside it that would come screaming up at us from behind later. There wasn’t, but another rune had been carved on the supports, pulsing with the same sickly, red glow as the others we’d seen.

  The remaining flares began to sputter and die at long last, and I pulled one of my own out, signaling to Rocke and drawing him to a stop. The cardboard felt strangely cool in my hands as I a
imed the tube down the cave, my earplugs allowing me to hear the rasp of the thick paper covering as I slid my hands over it. I gave the flare one last glance to make certain I was pointing with the right end, and then snapped the plastic activator downward.

  With an eye-watering pop, the flare launched free and shot down the cave, skipping off the ceiling and bouncing to a halt several hundred feet away. I tossed the now-warm tube aside, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in light. Thick, barred shadows crisscrossed the cave around us, cast either by bone or the ancient wooden scaffolding that was becoming more and more plentiful. I nodded at Rocke, and we moved forward again, eyes open wide for any threats.

  The wooden scaffolding grew more elaborate as we passed further into the depths of the cave, and Rocke fired another flare as mine faded behind us. Other signs of human workmanship began to appear as well: tools scattered across the ground, strange carvings we couldn’t identify on the stone walls that, what looked like ancient unlit torches, and—of course—more runes, scratched above the supports to offshoot tunnels as well as on the ceiling with increasing frequency.

  And throughout it all, silence. No strange howls. No strange thumps or rhythmic clicks of bone moving against bone. Just the faint sound of our own footsteps and the hiss of burning flares mixing with my own heavy breath, magnified by the earplugs I wore. The flares left the air smelling faintly of sulfur, a scent that mixed and mingled with the faint ozone of active magic to produce a smell that both burned the nose and made it itch.

  Rocke’s foot caught one of the wooden tools, sending it tumbling down the side of the embankment, and we both froze as the wood rang out on rock after rock before sliding to a stop next to a pile of bone. Our eyes met, and he nodded, the motion slow and barely perceptible. We rotated, checking the area around us for any sign that the sudden noise had alerted anything. Nothing moved.

  Still, there was something odd about the way the tool had fallen. I crouched and picked through a handful of gravel until I found the largest, roundest stone of the bunch. Rocke’s eyes on me, I tossed the rock onto the floor of the cave.

  The clicks it made as it bounced and rolled seemed to echo around us with unnatural sharpness, even through the earplugs. I waved to make sure Rocke was paying attention and pointed as the stone began to change its angle of motion, heading back the way we’d come. For a moment Rocke looked puzzled, then his mouth opened, a silent acknowledgement that he’d caught what I’d seen.

  The cave was, almost imperceptibly, sloping upward. Which meant that we were probably getting close to our destination.

  We moved forward again, the faint light of the flare at our backs. All our previous flares had died out, leaving us with only the singular light to mark our path. I counted the flares in my harness as that, too, began to die, checking my remaining stock as I readied another for use. There were five left; I’d started with eight. If we ran out before we reached the end of the cave, we would be down to flashlights.

  I was holding the flare out in both hands, pointing it down the tunnel—or up, since the ground beneath us had taken on a more pronounced slope over the last few minutes—my hand on the firing tab, when something nearby creaked. I paused, glancing at Rocke to see if he’d bumped against something. He hadn’t. In fact, he wasn’t standing near anything.

  Another creak, this one fainter than the first. My body tensed. I slid my eyes toward the wooden scaffolding that stood against the cave wall, the ancient timbers still standing after hundreds of years. I stared at them for a moment, waiting for any sort of sign. Again nothing.

  Then a stream of dust, barely visible in the light of my headlamp, trickled down from above, and I shifted my eyes up.

  With a shrieking howl, the Wraith launched itself down from the top of the scaffolding, the runes on its forehead bursting into a brilliant red as it dove towards me. I didn’t think; I just threw myself back, yanking down on the firing tab. The flare shot out like a starburst, slamming into the Wraith’s chest and knocking it off course just enough that its wild swing missed, the heavy paddle arcing through the air where my head had been moments ago. The creature slammed into the ground next to me, gravel kicking up under its bones as it skidded to a stop.

  Rocke let out a shout, but his words swept past me as I scrambled away from the monstrosity. It was already lifting itself from the ground, empty eye sockets fixing on me. My fingers wrapped around my staff, and I gave it a violent swing, my arms screaming as I put every bit of power I could into them. The Wraith barely had time to raise its arm in a futile attempt to ward off the power of my blow before my staff crashed into it, a sharp crack sounding in my ears and my staff flashing white. The Wraith flew back, its arm hopelessly shattered and falling in pieces around it as it slammed into the scaffolding, the aged wood holding surprisingly well under the impact.

  Two additional shrieks echoed across the cave as two more Wraiths dropped from above, one of them holding one of the paddle weapons the first had, the other brandishing a long, thin, black blade that seemed to glint blood-red under the light of the flare. Its bare teeth seemed to grin as it turned to face me, its companion already leaping for Rocke.

  I pushed myself backward and up, throwing myself to my feet as it moved towards me. I heard Rocke’s gun bark nearby, three quick, succinct booms echoing through the cave and blocking off all noise. The glow of the flare at the Wraith’s back cast its face into shadow, and it lifted its blade even as I pulled my staff up.

  It darted forward, its motions almost snake-like in their sudden speed. I dropped one end of my staff, slamming the wood down on the Wraith’s wrist and snapping the obsidian blade to one side. There was no sharp flash of light from my staff this time, but I didn‘t have time wonder it as the Wraith’s other hand slammed into the side of my head, sending me reeling. My foot slipped out from under me, and I fell back, sliding down the gravel berm toward the center of the cave. Gravel slid beneath me as I rolled my body, coming up on my feet and digging in to halt my downward tumble. Above me, the Wraith was already in motion, darting towards me with almost animalistic grace, the dark-curve of the obsidian knife glinting in its hand.

  I swung my staff like a baseball player as it moved into range, sweeping its legs out from underneath it, twin, sharp cracks resonating up my staff as the Wraith fell. I brought my staff down in an overhead blow, but the creature rolled away, and my staff scattered gravel as it hit the ground.

  Up above, the light began to take on a more yellow cast, moving away from the flare’s harsh pink as the scaffolding caught fire, the aged wood going up in a rush. The Wraith I was engaging let out another shriek as it tried to rise, only for one shattered leg to give out beneath it. I smiled and batted aside its arm with my staff before slamming the tip into its skull, crushing one of the runes that gave it life. There was another flash this time, the wood grains of my staff lighting with faint white lines as it kicked back, almost tearing itself free from my hands. The Wraith’s skull fared worse, snapping back against the gravel as it shattered into pieces, the impact of my staff and the violent magical reaction too much for it to survive. I stared at my staff for a moment as the glowing lines faded, my mind catching up with what had happened.

  Of course! I thought as I glanced back down at the Wraith’s limp remains. Opposites! I’m repulsed by death magic, and it’s repulsed by me!

  Another thunderous shot echoed through the cave as Rocke fired again, and I scrambled up the berm, rock sliding away beneath me as I pushed myself towards the top. I came up just in time to see the second Wraith’s ribs explode as Rocke fired again, the spellrune-enhanced slug chopping through the bone and sending chips flying. The Wraith slumped, its arms falling at its sides as the rune on its head began to dim. It fell to the ground, its jaw opening and closing with a jarring clicking sound. Then the rune began to glow again, and it shuddered, pushed itself up on its arms—and Rocke’s foot came down hard, cracking the skull into pieces, the aged bone snapping apart like brittle w
ood.

  “You hurt?” I called as he stepped back.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “You?”

  “Luckily enough, no,” I said, warily eyeing the now fully engulfed scaffolding. The flames were licking eagerly upward now, competing with the light of the flare still sitting at the base. “Got a few good hits in—”

  Rocke spun, dropping to his knees, gun rising as another Wraith leapt out of the darkness with a howl. The magnum barked again, loud and sharp, and the Wraith’s body went limp as its head blew apart, bone scattering across the ground.

  “I think we woke them up!” I said as another howl came out of the darkness, followed by another and another. The fire we’d started was spreading, moving up the cave with increasing speed as the ancient wood cracked and popped. I yanked another flare free from my harness and aimed it up the cave, yanking the tab back in a single, quick jerk. The flare launched up the cave, its pink glare clashing with the yellow-and-orange tongues of flame that were rapidly filling the cavern. Another howl echoed behind us, and I turned to see a Wraith loping towards us, paddle raised high over its head.

  “Time to go!” The heat from the fire was growing, as was the smoke, and I moved toward the edge of the berm as I ran after Rocke, my legs pumping. With the earplugs in, all I could hear was the pounding of my feet against the ground and the raspy sound of my own heavy breaths as the cave began to slope even further upward. Rocke stumbled, and I grabbed his arm as I passed him, yanking him to his feet. The fire was burning hotter now, the air growing thick with smoke that wasn’t finding any escape. I glanced behind us and suddenly found a new surge of energy as I saw the skeletal forms pursuing us.

  “How many are there?” Rocke asked.

  “At least ten!” Up ahead the cave grew hazier. The fire was spreading fast, still leaping from scaffold to scaffold ahead of us and filling the whole cave with a hellish haze of smoke. The flare was a long way behind us, but it didn’t matter. There was enough light from the burning sides of the cave that we no longer needed it.