He froze, eyes widening at the size of it. Each leg had to be six or more yards long, and though the biers blocked his view of the body, he could only imagine how big it must have been.
The other two saw the dead fiend a moment later, or at least, its legs, and froze as well before they all relaxed.
“I wonder what it used to catch,” whispered Lianshi, glancing about. “I wonder if it died because its prey stopped coming, or if it was killed by something worse.”
“Bad questions,” said Leonis. “Let’s just revel in our ignorance till we’re forced to deal with the answers.”
Scorio looked up at the balconies and narrowed his gaze. The dark recesses defied his normal vision, but a patch lightened, outlines appearing that revealed coffers ranged across the walls. They looked more ornate than the ones he’d seen, but there was no mistaking them.
“Strange to think we were reborn here, ages ago,” said Lianshi, hugging herself. “That once this was full of life, and we sat up on these very biers after going through the Gauntlet. I wonder if mine is still here…”
And she slipped away between them, till she reached the very base of the ruined Archspire.
“Here,” she whispered loudly. “I think this one’s mine.”
Scorio approached and stared at the bier beside her. His was crushed, cleaved nearly in half by a fallen spar. “So much for mine.”
“Doesn’t really matter,” said Leonis. “The coffers are keyed to us, but not the biers.”
Scorio frowned at him. “So any bier works?”
He shrugged. “Supposedly you always arise from the same tomb from within the Gauntlet, but how you get there doesn’t matter. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”
Scorio walked slowly around Lianshi’s. Fingers traced the golden edges, the pebbled blue stones. “And how does it work? How do you go back to the Gauntlet when you’re not dead?”
Leonis frowned. “What are you thinking?”
Lianshi’s eyes widened. “You think we could?”
Scorio kept his eyes on the jeweled surface before him, clean and resplendent. “Might do.”
“You activate the jewel at the base with mana,” said Leonis slowly, as if hesitating to reveal the information. “Then lie on it. It’s supposed to be simple.”
Scorio stopped and looked at the pair of them over the top of the bier. “Why aren’t you allowed to visit the Gauntlet whenever you want?”
“Because it’s an exam,” said Leonis, his frown deepening. “It’s meant to measure your progress.”
“But we’ve all been told the best way to progress is to fight for our lives, right?” Scorio raised an eyebrow. “And the Gauntlet allows us to simulate that. Why not use it whenever we want?”
“I…” Leonis trailed off, turned to Lianshi. “You answer him.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well.” Scorio placed his palm flat on the bier. “I came here looking for treasures, or some Iron mana. But if this works…”
His words hung in the air.
Lianshi bit her lower lip, then glanced up at the ruined Archspire. “What if some aspect of it is broken? What if it doesn’t send us to the Gauntlet, or we don’t return when we die?”
Scorio shrugged. “Good questions.”
“What if they can tell we’ve accessed it?” asked Leonis. “When we awoke, they had detailed records of our entering. What if our entry registers and they call us on it?”
“Did anyone forbid you from accessing the Gauntlet through these forgotten biers?”
To which Leonis merely frowned, clearly not deigning to answer the question.
“I’ll go first,” said Scorio. “If they see me appear on any records, what will they do? Send out search parties to scour the ruins?”
“Scorio, wait.” Lianshi was clearly searching for an objection. “You’re taking an incredible risk. We don’t know if this works, or if you’ll return. This isn’t worth it.”
“Not to you, perhaps.” Scorio stepped to the foot of the bier and placed his hand over the large, dull crystal. “But to me? You’d better believe it’s worth it.”
They both stared at him helplessly as he drew on the ambient Coal mana, swirled it about himself twice, and then infused it into the crystal.
It flickered, blue lightning dancing within the gem, then lit to fitful life.
A second later the sides of the bier began to burn with that pure blue light.
Scorio climbed up and stretched himself out.
“Scorio,” protested Lianshi.
“He’s made up his mind,” said Leonis grimly. “We’ll wait for you. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” he said, but already he felt himself sinking, darkness swimming over him, stealing his vision.
The pebbled surface of gems and precious stones grew soft under his back, and he felt himself begin to fall, sinking into an enveloping darkness.
“Good luck!” he heard Lianshi cry, then her words were stolen by the void, and he was gone.
Chapter 32
Scorio awoke into a tomb of hammered copper. The space was lit by a pale, golden light that seeped in from the rectangular hole in the ceiling above, and he lay there for a moment, blinking and looking up. That’s different.
He summoned his Igneous Heart and sensed the thick Coal mana all about him; a couple of deft sweeps of his will, and he pulled it all into his Heart and lit it up.
The mana was so thick, so turgid, that he barely disturbed it with his efforts.
Power flowed into his limbs as he rose to a crouch. The tomb was familiar in all respects but for the dawn-like light filtering in from above. He leaped; this time his Cinder body made his exit easy. He grabbed hold of the upper rim and hauled himself out in one smooth movement, landing in a crouch just beyond it.
Where he remained, taken aback, gazing about himself slowly as he took in the changes.
The vast, cathedral-like space remained as before, but the beam of blood-orange light was gone. No platform arose before him, no broad steps lead up to it. Instead, a searing white column burned in the distance, accessible through a gap between three rows of successive iron walls whose tops disappeared into the gloom, each gap narrower than the last. Fifty men might walk through the first, thirty through the second, perhaps only ten through the last.
The ground was greatly changed as well; gone was the beaten copper, and in its place, Scorio saw uneven stone akin to a cavern’s floor. This rose and fell like frozen waves of some storm-tossed sea, growing rougher as one drew close to the walls, so that at the last great serried ridges jutted across the gaps, creating a tortured path toward the white beam that wound back and forth as it navigated around them.
Scorio rose slowly to his feet, taking it all in. The ground around and behind him was crosshatched with endless tomb entrances like before, but most were little more than crumbling holes, destroyed by time or some nameless violence.
Everything had the air of decay, as if the great chamber might once have been smooth and orderly, and had over the centuries atrophied, lost its original shape as chaos had encroached in the form of the rocky waves and desolation.
Breath pluming before him, Scorio glanced down at himself. He wore the same functional robes as the first time, the same sturdy sandals. Almost he expected to hear Leonis’s cry ring out, to see some hint of movement in the darkness about him.
But there was none.
He was absolutely alone.
The thought chilled him, though of course, he’d known he’d assay the Gauntlet by himself. The sheer scale of the place challenged him, however; he felt insignificant, possessed by hubris for having dared come back here by himself.
With no other option, he approached the broad first gap, stepping over sharp, angular ridges of stone, walking around the steeper eruptions. A haze hung in the air, causing everything to appear vague and indistinct, and taking on an incandescent glow where it lay directly before the beam.
Scorio strode through the first gap. The iron walls were truly massive, four yards thick, more metal than he could conceive. He crossed the rugged space, moving around the oblique ridge that had shouldered its way out of the darkness and across the path, and then through the second.