Nothing.
After the vast space of the first room, the immensity of its scale and the vivid lighting of that amber beam, the chamber seemed cramped, mean, and utterly unimpressive. Leonis’s head almost scraped the ceiling, and the dull light came from a hemisphere of pale glass embedded halfway down the wall. It glowed with a pale, creamy light that did more to enhance the shadows than anything else.
Made almost sullen by the lack of a target, Scorio turned to the man by his side. “You’re hurt.”
“Just a scratch,” growled Leonis, refusing to remove his hand from his bloody side.
It was clearly more than that.
Scorio curled his hands into fists and stalked down the hallway, Leonis beside him. He could feel his companion’s fury, how it curdled the air, and it matched his own.
“I’m going to wring their filthy necks,” growled the large man, and Scorio believed him.
“Wait for me,” called Lianshi, hurrying up behind them.
But there was nobody else in the hallway. No weapon, no mounted bow, no signs of a trap. Just a wall on the far side with a black door set in its center.
“How…?” Leonis came to a stop, turned in a slow circle, then glowered at Scorio. “What just happened?”
“A trap,” said Lianshi, voice hushed. “A magical trap, perhaps. Triggered by our entering this hall?”
“But to what end?” Leonis sounded ready to smash his fist through the wall. “I thought we were going to meet a god or get an explanation in here. Not a gutful of metal.”
“I don’t know,” said Scorio, voice soft. “Perhaps there’s no way to know. But there’s a door.”
“Leading to what? Another filthy trap? Is this someone’s idea of a game?”
Lianshi bit her lower lip and gave a firm shake of her head. “That first room. The size of it. The feel. It was… too grand for a mere game. Whatever’s going on, it’s serious.”
They stood in silence, studying the dismal hallway. Scorio scanned the sides of the room, but there was no sign of the iron bolts that had missed them. Nor, when he made his way back to the beginning, any sign of Asha’s blood or the bolt that had killed her.
“It’s gone,” he said, crouching down to pass his hand over the dirt where she’d lain. “Her blood. The bolt. Just… disappeared.”
Lianshi stopped just behind him. “As if it had never happened.”
“You think she’s back in that tomb?” Leonis pressed his palm against the iron wall. He strained for a moment, the muscles and tendons standing out in his forearm, then desisted. “No way back, at any rate.”
“I wonder.” Scorio scooped up a fistful of the dirt, then allowed it to trickle free. “That dream we all had before waking up. Was it of dying in here? Do we get sent back each time?”
“No,” said Lianshi, shaking her head slowly and stepping back. “That can’t be true. I don’t want it to be true.”
Leonis growled deep in his chest and turned back to the far door. “Only one way to go.”
“Only one way,” agreed Scorio, rising to his feet. “Maybe we’ll get answers on the other side.”
“Should we… should we say goodbye?” Lianshi glanced at both of them, then back down to where Asha had lain. “I mean, I don’t quite feel like it’s the right thing to do, but…”
“Why not?” Scorio took a deep breath, fighting back his anger. “Wherever you are, Asha, I hope you’ve found peace.”
Leonis grunted in agreement, then together they turned to face the far door.
“Who goes first?” asked Lianshi.
“I will,” said Scorio, moving forward.
Leonis hurried to catch up. “We should take turns. It’s not fair on you to go first again.”
“It’s just a door.” Scorio studied it as they drew closer. “We’ll crack it open and see what’s on the other side.”
“I vote in favor of that idea,” said Lianshi, raising her hand before quickly dropping it.
They crowded around the door. It was a heavy, brutish thing, seemingly made out of pure iron, the hinges massive and rusted. Scorio took a deep breath, took hold of the handle, and slowly, carefully, pulled it down. He heard some manner of lock or catch withdraw, then gestured to the others to move away.
“It opens inwards. Stand over there where the door will protect you from whatever’s inside.” He could see Leonis starting to protest.
“You’re hurt. It’s common sense to let me take a look.”
Leonis reluctantly agreed, so Scorio cracked the door open a fraction of an inch.
Nothing happened.
He took a shallow, silent breath, then carefully peered around the jamb and into the next room, only to be met by a wall of absolute darkness.
“Great,” he murmured. No breeze came through, no smells, no indication of what lay beyond.
Leonis pressed forward. “What?”
“Another blank doorway.” Scorio opened the door wider. “Watch out for bolts.”
They stood in silence, studying the blackness. Lianshi bent, took up a handful of dirt, and cast it through.
The dirt disappeared.
“Well?” Leonis cracked his knuckles in the other, blood-soaked palm. “Waiting here isn’t doing anything. Let’s go.”
Scorio nodded reluctantly. “Let’s expect a trap on the other side. Keep your wits about you.”
“I’ll go first,” said Leonis, placing a hand on Scorio’s shoulder. “I’ll step through and immediately move to the left, keeping the wall to my back. You move to the right when you enter.”
“And me?” asked Lianshi.
Leonis ran a hand in exasperation through his long hair. “I don’t know. Crouch down?”
“All right.” She gave a firm nod. “I’ll give Scorio a couple of seconds, then come in low.”
They stared at the darkness again, nobody moving.
“Well, let’s do it. Good luck to all of us,” said Leonis, moving to stand square before the portal. “And if we die horribly on the other side, I hope to see you both again soon. You seem like good people.”
Scorio couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I couldn’t wish for better comrades with whom to face an infuriatingly obtuse death. Good luck.”
Leonis clapped his hands loudly together once, twice, three times, then shrugged his shoulders. “All right. Here we go. Here we go.”
And he stepped through to disappear.
Scorio forced a smile. “Luck.”
Lianshi began to respond, but he didn’t wait, stepping into the wall of inky darkness, and through into a shadow-drowned chamber. As he tried to get a sense of what lay before him, he stepped to the right and pressed his back to the wall.
The room was pitch dark but for some thirty, fist-sized circular holes clustered high in the ceiling above, through which streamed columns of dusty, white light. Each column illuminated a perfect circle the size of a dinner plate on what proved to be pale stone, all of them clustered together to form a compact island of light in an ocean of dark.
Scorio fought to control his breathing, to listen, to get a sense of what else was in the room. Despite the darkness, it lacked the imposing sense of scale of the first chamber, instead feeling close, surprisingly small.
“You there?” he whispered.
“Here,” rasped Leonis, voice tight with tension.
“Here,” whispered Lianshi from between them, crouched low.
A pause.
“Don’t see anything but those lights,” whispered Leonis. “Maybe we should—”
And then something the size of a child passed through one of the corner columns—a flicker of movement, a hint of an enlarged, angular ear, a scrawny body, a quick, serpentine undulation behind it as if it possessed a tail.
“All right,” said Leonis, voice growing hard. “Let’s just stay put.”
“What was that?” Lianshi’s voice was tinged with panic. “Did you see that? What was it?”
“Easy,” breathed Scorio. “Easy. Stay alert. Our backs are to the wall. It can’t get behind us.”