by Dan Willis
With that, Tal shouldered his bag, took Rose by the hand, and slowly led her away.
Corin went to get the privy shovel while Bradok got to his feet and dusted himself off. His shirtfront was soaked with Rose’s sweat, and her scent was all over his body.
It didn’t take long to dispose of the bloody flesh once Corin returned with the shovel. They didn’t talk much as they worked, for both were anxious to get past the unpleasant job.
“I’ve been wondering something,” Bradok said as they finished up, piling sand on top of the hole they’d made.
“What’s that?”
“If your people kept all the Rhizos in a sealed cave, then where did our four playmates come from?” Bradok asked.
“What playmates?” Corin asked.
“The four Rhizomorphs we fought,” Bradok said. “Where did they come from?”
Corin stopped, his shovel frozen in mid action.
“By the Abyss,” he said finally, swearing in a low voice. “The caves,” he stammered. “The Zhome colony must have been broken open by the earthquake, just like the prison.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” Bradok said grimly. “It means that, if those four Rhizomorphs were down here, running around looking for hapless victims, so are all the rest of ‘em.”
Corin gasped. “There’s no way of knowing how many of them survived the earthquake,” he said, “nor any way to stop them from tracking us. We’re in Reorx’s hands, for sure, this time.”
“Reorx!” Bradok muttered angrily, adding quickly, more respectfully, just in case the god was listening. “Reorx.”
CHAPTER 16
The Well of the Moor
The slap of boot leather on stone echoed through the stone passage. It had been six days since the cave fisher attack and one since Rose’s disease had been operated on by her brother, and the survivors of Ironroot made little other noise as they marched. No one spoke much; no children were laughing anymore. Everyone kept their loved ones in sight and their hands on their weapons. To Bradok it seemed as though a gloomy fog had descended on them all.
The glowlamps that had so brightly lit their way had slowly dwindled to feeble points of light. Bradok, holding his compass open in the palm of his hand, walked in front of the group, using its small but clear light as a beacon, but that only seemed to emphasize the desperate nature of their situation. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought its light, too, was beginning to fade.
In the evenings people spoke only in whispers, and no one had gotten a good night’s sleep for several days. Without any light for protection, they avoided the caves at night. But sleeping in the tunnels was cramped and difficult, making everyone cranky.
That day the light in the tunnel was not so bad, and that gave Bradok an opportunity to step to the rear. Three other dwarves walked wearily along with him, their hands never far from their weapons: Corin, Much, and Rose. He had asked for those three stalwarts to join him. Bradok was tired of so many of the others, who whined and complained at every juncture.
“We have to do something about this infernal darkness,” Much said as they shuffled along, their darkvision adequate enough to show them a grainy, black-and-white view of the path ahead.
“True, the darkness is depressing. But what do you suggest?” Rose asked, a hopeless note in her voice. “We’ve wracked our brains.”
“Everyone is on edge. People need a break,” Corin said.
“They need to rest,” Bradok agreed. “Everyone’s been sleeping with one eye open, and it’s wearing them down. If this keeps up, we won’t be able to make a full day’s march soon.”
“We need to find a place that’s secure,” Rose said. “If everyone felt safer, they might be able to sleep better.”
“We aren’t likely to find any place guaranteed to be safe,” Corin said.
“Maybe if we could just close off the passage behind us,” Much said. “Then we’d only have to guard our camp from one direction.”
“That’s a good idea,” Bradok admitted. “It might work. But we’d have to find a weak part of the passage to pull down, and we don’t have the proper tools. Someone would have to take risks.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Corin said. “Trying to collapse the ceiling.”
“It’d be suicide for whoever volunteered,” Rose said. “We still ought to consider it,” Bradok said without much enthusiasm.
“There you are,” Chisul’s voice reached Bradok before Chisul himself did. Bradok’s stomach turned sour. He was back there in the rear precisely to avoid trouble-making dwarves such as Silas’s son. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re pretty far behind the group.”
“Imagine that,” Corin said with mockery in his voice, “the rear guard actually bringing up the rear.”
“Well, get your rears moving,” Chisul said, “if that isn’t too much to ask. The people want a word with their great leader, Bradok.”
Bradok ground his teeth in frustration. Every time anyone had a hangnail, they brought the problem to him. He made a mental note to find an appropriate way to thank Rose and her busybody brother for foisting upon him the leadership of the survivors.
He glanced guiltily at Rose. She seemed better, though now and then she stroked her bandaged arm. They had told the others that she had had a bad stumble and Tal had fixed her up.
“What do they want this time?” Bradok asked wearily as Chisul fell in line beside them.
“Oh, I imagine it’s the same as before,” Chisul said with a shrug. “They want you to do something about the darkness.”
“What do they think I am?” Bradok yelled, causing Rose to start. “I’m not a wizard or a priest. I can’t wave a magic wand or anything.” Bradok’s voice echoed down the passage, so the others could hear, but he didn’t care any longer. He poked Chisul in the chest, causing the younger dwarf to stagger back. “I can’t just say let there be light and have it spring up out of no—”
Just then a burst of brightness washed over Bradok. It couldn’t really have been very bright but, with his eyes accustomed to total darkness, the sudden intensity of it burned like fire. When Bradok tried to open his eyes, he had to shield them with his hands against the ball of orange energy that had materialized in the passage ahead of them, hovering just a few feet away.
“Your friend’s back,” Rose said, shielding her eyes as well.
It did look like the orb of light they’d seen before.
“You’ve seen that one before?” Corin asked, awe in his voice. He eyed Bradok with an intense look, his forked beard quivering.
“Yes,” Bradok said. “A couple of ‘em appeared and one flew right through me one night while I was on guard duty. But they were green then. Why?”
“My people call these things ‘dark lights,’” Corin said in a hushed voice. “To see one is considered a good omen. There are stories of them leading travelers out of trouble.” The Daergar shrugged; then his face lengthened. “Of course there are also stories of them leading the unwary to violent deaths.”
“Great,” Chisul said. “So now we have a light guiding us that can think for itself, and we can’t trust its motives.”
“That’s about it,” Bradok agreed wryly.
“Still,” Corin said, a thoughtful note in his voice. “It touched you once and now it’s back. That has to mean something. Maybe it’s a good omen, after all.” He laughed suddenly. “If there were any members of the Magma Tube Clan around, they’d find it absolutely fascinating that you actually touched a cave light.”
“You mean they’d revere him?” Rose said.
Corin nodded. “Right before they ate him,” he said with a smirk.
“Ate?” Much said, aghast.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Corin said, cutting Bradok off before he could protest. “We don’t have any Magma Tube Clansmen in these parts.”
“Well, that’s good,” Bradok croaked.
“As far as I know,” Corin added with a wink to Rose.
Their eyes
had finally become accustomed to the light, and they lowered their hands. The ball of energy just hung there in the center of the passage, not moving. Its body, if the edge of its fuzzy round shape could be called that, seemed to expand and contract at regular intervals, as if it were slowly breathing in and out. Purple pulses of energy would occasionally leap from one side of its form to the other then back, skittering across its surface to form a constantly shifting spiderweb of arcs.
“So … what now?” Chisul asked.
“How should I know?” Bradok answered.
“You must have summoned it.”
“No, I didn’t. The fact that it appeared right when I said ‘light’ was just a coincidence.”
“Quite a coincidence,” Rose said under her breath.
“Major coincidence,” Much added.
“I had a philosophy teacher once who said there were no such things as coincidences,” Corin finished.
Bradok turned to the Daergar. “Meaning what?” he asked.
“Meaning that maybe our glowing friend here wants something,” Chisul said.
All eyes turned back to Bradok. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes then turned to the orange energy ball.
“Ahem, uh, pardon me. What can I do for you?” Bradok asked, trying hard not to sound too awed or afraid.
The ball quivered at the sound of his voice, the distinct edges of its surface rippling like a still pond disturbed by a stone. Spiderwebs of energy erupted all over its body; then it zoomed around Bradok, circling him twice, before flying up the passageway. It stopped after a dozen yards, hanging motionless again. When no one moved, it pulsed twice, growing momentarily brighter.
“I think it wants us to follow it,” Rose said after a long, tense silence.
Chisul pointed at Corin. “Didn’t he just say they lead people to their doom?”
“He said sometimes they do,” Rose said.
“That’s often enough for me,” Chisul said.
“Me too,” Much agreed.
“I don’t think it wants to hurt us,” Rose insisted. “If it does, why didn’t it lead us to our doom the first time?”
The orange ball pulsed again, almost impatiently.
“Well, it’s going the same way we are,” Bradok pointed out. “We may as well follow it. If we turn around, we’ll lose the others.”
“Where are the rest anyway?” Much asked Chisul.
“There’s a big cave up ahead,” the cooper’s son said. “No mushrooms, but a lot of crystals. They’re waiting there.”
“All right,” Bradok said, slowly moving up the passage. “Let’s play along for a while. See where Blinky is taking us.”
As Bradok moved forward, the light retreated, always staying ahead of them, just within sight. When it reached the cave, it darted over the heads of the startled dwarves who sat, waiting for Chisul’s return. The chamber itself was large, with thousands of milky-white crystals growing from the walls, floor, and ceiling.
As the energy ball entered, the crystals seemed to leap to life, their glasslike edges reflecting the light brilliantly. It looked as if the single orb of pale orange light had been suddenly boosted by hundreds.
The edgy, sleep-deprived dwarves reacted as one, seizing their weapons and their loved ones and huddling together fearfully. Kellik lashed out with his warhammer, shattering a freestanding crystal into a thousand glittering shards.
“Wait!” Rose cried as others stood, ready to begin swinging at anything that glittered or gleamed. “It isn’t hurting us.”
“Says you,” Chisul muttered, his hand on his short sword.
Meanwhile the orange light zoomed around the room, ignoring Bradok and the dwarves completely. Gradually it slowed and began orbiting an enormous crystal at the far end of the cave, revolving around the trunklike structure with changing light pulses.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose decided.
Bradok would have felt a lot better about the beauty of the pulsing ball of light if he knew whether it promised doom or salvation.
Suddenly the ball of light began to accelerate, spinning around the crystal so quickly that it seemed to create a solid band of light. The reflections around the room seemed to jump and flicker across the smaller crystals with incredible speed, a shimmering movement accompanied by a deep, belllike tone.
“What is that?” Bradok said.
“The crystals are singing,” Much ventured.
The sound grew and Bradok could swear he heard different notes joining in, slowly changing the cacophony into a harmonious chord.
“Look,” Chisul said, pointing.
All the dwarves were staring already. All around the chamber, individual crystals were changing color. Before, they had all reflected the orange light of the energy creature, but as they watched, they burned from within, reds, greens, blues, and yellows.
New balls of light began to slide out of the crystals, adding their brightness to the room. At least a dozen new balls of light emerged and floated over to the giant crystal.
The orange light stopped spinning as its companions crowded around it. One by one, they flew through the crystal, penetrating its smooth surface the same way the orange one had flown through Bradok the first night he’d witnessed them. With each pass, the crystal began to glow pale blue from within. After a few moments, the glow became a blinding light encompassing the entire cavern and the dwarves had to cover their eyes again.
When the lights finally stopped moving, the giant crystal pulsed with inner light. Each pulse seemed to push the light outward, and the surrounding crystals began to glow again as well. Soon the entire room sparkled with twinkling lights. Bradok noticed that even the shards of the crystal Kellik had shattered were renewed and glowed.
“I tell you, it’s beautiful,” Rose repeated.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Kellik said in his gravelly voice.
“What’s happening now?” Much said, grabbing Bradok’s attention by the urgency in his voice then grabbing his shirt as well.
The old dwarf was pointing at the first orange ball of light, which hung in the air in front of the giant crystal. Its surface rippled and bulged, as if something inside of it were trying to escape. The other lights hovered around the first one, but not too close. Each time its surface rippled, the orange light seemed to dim and the ball of light fell a bit, drifting toward the floor.
“I think it’s sick or something,” Bradok said. “Maybe dying.”
“Why did it bring us here, then?” Corin asked. “To witness this?”
“That’s exactly right,” Rose decided, her face splitting into a smile. “But I don’t think it’s dying. Look!”
The energy creature pulsed and bulged again, and it seemed to expel a small burst of light from its body that hung motionless in the air like a miniature star. After a moment, the light seemed to collapse in on itself, forming a perfect, orange sphere.
“See,” Rose said. “It’s more like it’s—she’s—pregnant.”
Rose had no more than said those words when a second small ball of light was expelled from the mother-light. Four more followed before the orange ball began to brighten again. She was just above the floor, hovering there with her babies zipping around her like playful puppies. Whenever they drew close enough, purple tethers of energy would jump between mother and offspring.
“She’s bonding with them,” Tal said, agreeing with his sister.
“How do you know so much?” Chisul asked suspiciously.
“It’s what most species do,” Tal said with a shrug.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose said for the third time, dabbing tears from her eyes.
“I hate to be the practical one,” Chisul said, “but unless she’s offering to let us borrow a couple of her babies to use as light buddies, I think we’ve wasted enough time here.”
Rose shot Chisul a hard look and elbowed him in the ribs.
“What?” he protested. “As interesting as this is, it isn’t getting us anywhere. I think
we should move on.”
“He’s got a point,” Kellik said grudgingly.
“What do you think?” Rose asked Bradok.
Back to him again, Bradok thought with a sinking feeling. Before he could respond, however, the baby lights zoomed away from their mother. They darted over to where Bradok stood with the others, zipping around them all, hovering, then moving off.
One let Rose touch it glancingly with her outstretched fingers before shooting away.
After a few minutes of that, the mother pulsed with light, and the babies returned to her, circling around her as she hung just below the massive crystal. Purple energy tethers jumped from the babies to the mother then from the mother to the side of the giant crystal. All of them glowed brighter and brighter until, with a thunderous crack, a fragment of the crystal popped out of the side, like a cork from a keg. A torrent of glowing water issued forth from the hole, splashing across the base of the crystal and filling a small depression in the stone floor.
In less than a minute, a small pool had formed at the base of the radiating crystal. Then the torrent of water dwindled to a trickle. The water or fluid or whatever it was glowed. It almost seemed as though the crystal were bleeding from a wound.
The light creatures pulsed in unison, and all but the mother rose up and disappeared into the ceiling as if it were nothing more than smoke. The mother light hung in the air a moment longer, pulsing gently; then she, too, disappeared into the stone.
“So there it is. Some fireworks and a disappearing act. And what’s left behind? Do you think your friend the orange ball of light is inviting us to drink from her glowing pool?” Chisul asked sarcastically.
Bradok shook his head. It didn’t make sense to him either.
“Are you two daft?” Much exclaimed, laughter in his voice. “It’s a moonwell.”
They all stared, Rose beginning to laugh too. Bradok had heard of such deep pools where the water had absorbed so many minerals that it actually glowed with weird energy, but he’d never seen one before. Most dwarves thought they were legend.
