by Wight, Will
Fortunately, it was empty. Though not nearly high enough for him to stand upright, at least the space was a pace or two deep, and more than wide enough for the three of them to squeeze in and seal the entrance.
The last of the silver flowing through his veins was enough to let him fell one of the giant mushrooms in a single swipe. He severed the cap and pulled it over to the wall, sealing all three of them inside and providing light at the same time. It was like a giant glowing door.
When they were seated, the girl pulled a tinderbox from her pocket to light her lantern. The mushroom door was more than bright enough, but there was something eerie about the spectral blue cave-light. Still, practical considerations had to come first.
“Hold on,” Simon said. “We should save the lamp oil. Let’s not light the lantern until we really need it.”
“No problem,” the girl said. Then she looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for his next order. Simon shifted, uncomfortable. He had rarely spent time with children back in the village. Alin, he knew, would have said something comforting and taken care of the problem himself.
“My name is Simon,” he said. He used the soothing voice he had used on his mother when she might take off running or attack him with a frying pan. “Don’t worry; I’m here to help.”
“I know,” the girl declared. “I bet Mother and Father sent you down here. I’m right, aren’t I?” Her eyes twinkled as if she were ready to tell a joke, or hear one.
Her younger brother breathed, “I’ve never seen anybody move so fast. Are you an Overlord?”
The girl hit him. “The Overlords wouldn’t come down here looking for us. They’re too busy.”
The boy glared at her. “They could. You don’t know.”
Simon raised his hands to quiet them. He felt a flash of irritation at being taken for one of the Overlords, but it was quickly suppressed. They were just children, after all. “I’m not an Overlord.” He couldn’t quite keep a sneer out of that last word. “What are your names?”
The girl rose up to her knees and mimicked a curtsy, smirking like she was playing a prank. “I am the Lady Andra Agnos, at your service. Thirteen years old. This is my younger brother, Lycus. He has a mere ten years.”
“Are you really a lady?” Simon asked uncertainly. He had heard stories of the nobility, but he had no idea how he was supposed to behave around them. Did Damasca even have lords and ladies?
“Don’t you think I look the part?” She swirled her red wool skirt the way women back in the village would show off holiday dresses. The effect was marred somewhat by the fact that she was kneeling on the floor of a cave.
Lycus glared at his sister. “We are not noble. Our father is a free merchant for Malachi.”
Andra giggled. “But you believed it, didn’t you?”
Simon looked from one to the other, trying to figure out something that had been bothering him for a while. “You two don’t seem very frightened, trapped down here by yourselves. Your parents were convinced you were dead.”
A shadow passed over the faces of both siblings. Andra’s smile twisted so that she looked like she might cry, and Lycus stared at the stone wall as if at his own corpse.
“It’s almost been a whole day,” Andra whispered. “Mother and Father were gone. I thought they would never know. Lycus came to bring me out...one of those fish would have gotten me, if not for him.”
“We got lost. I thought we were going to be in here forever,” Lycus said. But he brightened and turned a wide-eyed gaze on Simon. “Then you came! That monster was nothing for you.”
Andra nodded agreement, her smile back in place. Simon’s stomach twisted. Denner had been very clear that he wasn’t ready for this trial, but Simon had insisted anyway. What if he really wasn’t ready?
That’s a coward’s thought, he reminded himself. I have to do something. I’m the only one here who can do anything. But he had to be honest.
“I can’t leave the cave for six nights after this one. But I can bring you to the entrance, if we can make it past all the monsters. I’m not sure I can kill them all.”
Andra grinned, as if at a joke. “Just do what you did before. It worked well enough for this guy.” She rapped their mantis-shell doorway with the back of her fist.
“But what if it doesn’t work?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized what he sounded like. Fool. You’re asking a thirteen-year-old girl what to do?
He coughed to cover his embarrassment and continued on. “I mean, it might not be good enough. That’s what I meant to say. I just thought you should know. But I’ll do everything I can, I promise you that.”
They beamed at him, and he had to repress a surge of doubt. What if these kids got killed? It would be his fault. His only consolation was that if they died, he probably wouldn’t live to see it.
Not surprisingly, the thought didn’t comfort him much.
CHAPTER TWELVE:
ESCAPE
After a few more minutes of rest, Simon led the Agnos children out of their little cave. Unaided, he could never have pushed aside the giant mushroom cap, but after a draft of steel strength he pushed it back with one hand.
They almost didn’t get any farther.
The carnivorous eels had been drawn to the fresh corpse of the mantis-monster outside, leaping up out of ripples in the stone to tear its rocky plates off and feast on the flesh beneath. When Simon stepped outside, he disturbed their feeding, sending all the fanged creatures into a frenzy. They dove at him, scales rippling with spectral blue light, flashing teeth the size of his fingers.
If he hadn’t already summoned steel, they would have torn him to shreds in seconds. Lacking the reflexes from the Nye essence, the only thing he could rely on was raw strength. So that was what he did.
The first fanged horror was inches from his face before he managed to swat it from the air with his palm, but the impact launched it into the distance as if it had been hurled by a catapult. He kicked another just as it left the ripples in the stone, snapping its spine in half, and caught a third by the tail. Then he swung that fish like a flexible club, smacking the rest out of the air before they became a danger.
He was just falling into a rhythm when he heard the beginnings of a scream behind him, and he whirled without conscious thought. A ripple headed straight towards Lycus’ feet. He had pushed his sister behind him and now stood between her and the still-submerged creature. His eyes were wide with terror.
Simon had no time to think of a better plan, so he did the first thing that came to mind: he brought his arm back, then swept the fish in his hand down like a hammer. It was stunned but still alive, thrashing weakly in his hand, but he ignored it.
The fish in the stone, expecting to take its prey by surprise, jumped from the ripple in front of Lycus. Its fanged face had barely cleared the rock when Simon’s weapon crashed into it.
The scales of both fish cracked, sending dark blood splattering across Simon’s face. One of the squirming creatures even let out a weak scream, eerie and shrill. But in seconds both fish were dead, one of them still half-sunk in solid stone.
Simon dropped the eel-thing and wiped his face with a trembling hand. He had not been nearly careful enough. What if these fish had sensed them before he had moved the door? He shuddered; the three of them had sat on the ground. All three humans would have been shredded to pieces before they could react.
The kids were entirely unharmed and, if anything, looked even more impressed with Simon than before. He kept all expression off his face, but inwardly he trembled. That had been entirely too close. He tried to tell himself to relax, but he was only too aware how near his mistake had come to costing lives.
As they walked to the entrance tunnel, Simon kept his sword sheathed. Instead, he kept himself on the brink of summoning his powers. If he so much as sensed a motion in the shadows, he was going to down both of them before he even looked twice. That should have been his policy bef
ore he ever set foot in Orgrith Cave, but he had been too shortsighted to plan ahead.
That was one mistake he wouldn’t make again.
Finally, they approached a spot Simon recognized as near the entrance. He signaled Lycus and Andra to remain quiet and stay against the wall, then drew on a draught of both the Nye essence and metallic strength. Cool power rushed through his veins, ran along his bones. Everything around him slowed, until it seemed that everyone else moved through thick honey.
He was as ready as he could be. Simon crept forward hesitantly; though, in his accelerated state, he was probably moving at almost his normal running speed. He immediately spotted the tail end of the giant worm they had earlier seen devoured. Though messy—its shell was torn open at several points, its blood splattered on the rocks all around—it appeared to have been abandoned. At least, he saw none of the fish that swam through rock.
That was a relief; maybe the tunnel would be unguarded as well. He pulled his sword out and looked into the tunnel entrance.
It was twice as wide as it had been, and a totally different shape: a horizontal oval where it once had been circular.
Did something make it wider, Simon thought, or does the entrance change shape? If so, the tunnel out may be more dangerous now than it had been when he entered. This may not even be the tunnel out any longer; the passage could now lead to a stone wall. Or a nest of unspeakable monsters.
Simon shook himself. This was no Territory, where normal physical laws barely held sway. Tunnels through rock did not simply shift for no reason. Obviously something had happened here to widen the entrance. Maybe this was more evidence of whatever hidden monster had tugged the rock worm’s corpse. That was a disturbing enough idea; anything that could drag that enormous corpse and take huge gouges out of stone would probably tear through him like a flimsy cloth.
With that cheery thought in his head, Simon called as loud as he dared, “Lycus. Andra. Come on out.”
They peeked their heads around the softly glowing trunk of a giant mushroom, saw he was alone, and hurried over to him.
“Is this the way out?” Lycus whispered.
I hope so, Simon thought, but all he said was, “Yes. Follow me.”
“Can’t be worse than in here,” Andra said with a soft laugh, as she fell in line behind him. Simon wished he agreed.
***
The tunnel out this time was rougher than Simon remembered, gouges seemingly carved in the floor and tunnel. It was darker, too, since much of the glowing blue moss had been scraped away, so they had to step carefully to avoid putting a foot in shadowed gorges.
Simon’s unease grew with every step they took. Whatever had happened in this tunnel during the few hours since he had come in, it was violent and recent. Instincts born in Valinhall screamed at him that something was about to jump out from the dark. He kept his sword in one hand, holding the Nye mist inside him for as long as possible. Even aside from the edge it would give him if they were suddenly attacked, he found that he liked feeling quick and powerful. It helped counteract the all-too-reasonable fear of something lurking in the shadows.
After perhaps half an hour of creeping along, stopping every few paces to listen, Simon whirled around at a scream from Andra. He angled his sword to stab, reaching out to Valinhall for Nye essence.
Andra doubled over laughing. True, she kept her voice down so it didn’t quite echo in the stone corridor, but Simon still didn’t think it was appropriate. Lycus looked as Simon himself must: shocked, disbelieving, still half-ready to respond to a threat. To the boy’s credit, he had lunged forward to try and help his sister at the first sign of danger.
“Your faces,” Andra managed to get out, at little above a whisper. “Oh, seven stones.” She dissolved into giggles.
“You think this is funny?” Simon said. He hoped it was too dark for them to see his face flushing. Lycus just growled and turned away from her, evidently in disgust.
Andra folded her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” Her apology was spoiled somewhat by a few lingering giggles.
A sharp grinding noise, like rock scraping across rock, echoed down the tunnel. It seemed to be coming from just ahead of them.
“Is that the wagons?” Lycus asked. He sounded more hopeful than convinced.
“I don’t think so,” Simon said. He just wished he had a little more light. As it was, if—well, when—he had to fight something else, he would have very little warning. “We should be getting close to the entrance by now, though,” he said.
Neither of the children said anything, but the longing looks on their faces made him hope desperately that he was right.
As they continued to walk, the grinding noise repeated itself periodically, growing steadily louder as they approached the source of the noise. A feeling gnawed at Simon, telling him that something was different now than when he had come down the tunnel the first time. At first he thought it was the lack of light—surely they would see the light from the entrance soon—but after a while it dawned on him. The tunnel was sloping down.
He took a glance back down the tunnel. The light was too dim for him to see far, but he hadn’t been mistaken. It was obviously an downward slope, not a way out. Had he made some kind of mistake? No, there were no other side passages he could have accidentally taken. This was really the only way out. Maybe the tunnel had changed after all. But did it still lead outside?
The Agnos siblings were pushing one another as they walked, Andra with a smirk on her face, Lycus with a serious scowl. He couldn’t tell them; they would just worry. Besides, what would they do when they found themselves in the same main chamber as before? He hadn’t seen any other ways out. So forward was as good a direction as any.
Simon tightened his grip on his sword until his fingers ached. He would get these children out of here if it killed him. He would.
Then the tunnel opened up on another chamber, and he found out what had been making that grinding noise.
This chamber, as much as he could make it out in the shadows, was shaped like an enormous ball. They stood in an entrance about halfway up one wall. In the bowl beneath them, huge rock-worms lay tangled like mating snakes. Thousands of them, twisting and twining together. The pile was mostly still, though occasionally one shifted slowly, producing the grinding noise Simon had heard earlier. Asleep? Or did these things just naturally move that slowly?
The bottom of the chamber was so intimidating that Simon almost didn’t notice something else: the chamber held none of that luminous moss. It was bathed in a soft blue-white light, but a paler shade than he had seen so far.
It took him a few seconds to recognize moonlight, pouring in from a crack high in the opposite wall.
Simon’s breath caught. It was a way out. Maybe for all of them; the crack looked big enough that they might be able to pass. Of course, it was across the room from those rock-worms. And even if it hadn’t been, he wasn’t at all sure he could make it up the sides.
Then again...he stuck his head out of the corridor and took a closer look at the walls around him. The stone was rough and knobby, not perfect for climbing, but similar to the rocky bluffs around Myria. Those weren’t too hard to climb. And the wall underneath the moonlit crack seemed a bit flatter than the rest of the cavern. It could be an illusion of shadows and soft light, true, but he had his prizes from the House. Maybe, with enhanced strength and reflexes, he could make it.
If the hole was big enough to let him through. If he could get through the rock-worms without waking them. If the land outside was any safer than what they found in here. Far too many ifs.
The children, understandably, kept shooting anxious glances at him. He put a finger to his lips and gestured for them to back up into the tunnel. If enough of those rock-worms woke, they were dead for sure. It just wasn’t worth the risk. There had to be another way out of here.
With one eye on the brother and sister and one on the writhing mass of giant worms
, Simon almost didn’t hear the distant call, drifting to them on the gentle air of the cave. A woman’s voice.
“Lycus! Andra! Andra, please...” It was so faint, he almost couldn’t understand. Almost.
The way the children stiffened showed Simon they had heard just as well as he had. They stared at him with wide eyes and gestured frantically, as though he didn’t understand what they wanted.
Silently, Simon cursed whatever twisted fate had brought them their mother’s voice. No hope of safely turning back now; they would balk at every step. How had the woman’s voice reached this far, anyway? He would have called it impossible.
Still, it proved one thing: that hole up in the wall did lead to the outside after all. And probably to safety, if they could make it soon.
Simon leaned his face down between the brother and sister. He spoke in a voice that should have been barely audible even from inches away. “We’re going to try and climb out through that hole, but that means we have to cross the floor.” He pointed with his sword.
Andra choked back a nervous laugh, holding a hand to her mouth. Lycus trembled as if he had asked the boy to stack his own funeral pyre, but his face was as hard as a child could make it. He nodded, as if granting permission.
“I can only take you one at a time,” Simon continued. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to finish two trips, but then again he wasn’t sure he could finish one. “You have to be quiet. If those things wake up...” They nodded vigorously. At least he wouldn’t have to explain that.
The trouble began when he asked who wanted to go first.
“Take him,” Andra whispered. “He’s younger.” Lycus shook his head firmly, face fit for a magistrate passing sentence. Silently, he nudged his sister forward, but she stepped back. They gestured silently to each other, clearly arguing.
