He smeared the wounds with the thick salve and webs and ripped yet another strip from the remains of the beautiful silk dress to wrap around his ankle.
"Done?" Hornsbuck asked politely, although laughter still twinkled in his eyes.
"Done," replied Mika.
"Then let us be on our way," said Hornsbuck, gesturing with a broad sweeping movement of his hand, indicating the path beyond.
"But isn't it still the middle of the night?" asked Mika.
"Who can tell and what does it matter down here where there ain't no light?" said Hornsbuck with a grin. "We're up, so we'd best be going."
There was no arguing with the man's logic, so with a shake of his head, Mika got to his feet and put his boot back on, which, he noticed, still smelled slightly of rabbit stew.
He was astonished to find that there was little or no pain in the ankle and congratulated himself on his fine healing skills, choosing not to remember that he had made the salve months ago under his father's explicit direction.
The wolves were all too glad to leave the tunnel, skirting the blackened remains of the centipede with obvious aversion.
"Thanks a lot," muttered Mika as he limped along next to Tam. "I thought you were supposed to sleep with one eye open. My faithful companion, always alert, never surprised. Hah! That centipede could just as easily have gotten me by the neck, you know. Then where would you be?"
Tam licked his lips and, meeting Mika's eyes only briefly, looked away.
"All right, all right. I'm not too wild about centipedes either. I forgive you… this time," Mika said grudgingly, and they walked along the dark passage in companionable silence.
It seemed that Hornsbuck also spoke to RedTail, conferring with him quietly when they came to junctures that the older man seemed unsure of. In those instances, Hornsbuck seemed to talk to the wolf and then listen to a reply that Mika could not discern. It puzzled him, but he was certainly not going to ask. A nomad's relationship with his wolf was sacrosanct. Twice, Hornsbuck and his wolf seemed to disagree. Once, Hornsbuck did not take RedTail's advice and they turned left rather than right. RedTail remained at the juncture, allowing Hornsbuck, Mika, Tam, and the horse to go off without him. Quite soon, however, Hornsbuck had to admit that the wolf had been right, and the entire party was forced to return to the juncture and follow a smirking RedTail along the route the wolf had preferred.
This corridor led them to a wide hall that stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see, the dark shadows hiding much from their view.
The ceiling was brightly colored and appeared to be made up of tiny pieces of mosaic tile. Closer examination revealed the tiles to be semi-precious gems struck square and unfaceted, reflecting the light dully.
The pictures they comprised were of nothing that Mika could recognize. Joyous swirls of bright primary colors clashed and conflicted with heavy threatening slashes of darkness-ebony opals and black sapphires. Somehow the riot of colors was disturbing in a way that Mika could not even begin to articulate, but he experienced a shiver of foreboding.
"What is this place?" he asked in a whisper.
"I don't know," replied Hornsbuck. "Creepy, ain't it? Over the center, there's this throne-like thing. Big. Bigger than any human would need. I don't know what sat there. I certainly don't want to meet it. Come over here and look at these pillars."
Hornsbuck held his torch up close to one of the hundreds of pillars that supported the roof. Mika cringed back.
Flames shot up the rounded sides of the pillars, reaching for the ceiling. Flames that were made of blood red rubies embedded in the stone and outlined in a dried rusty brown medium that looked suspiciously like blood. Circling the base and the top of the pillar, also embedded in the stone, were skulls, human skulls. Their empty eyes stared out at Mika, their jaws gaped wide in silent anguish.
"They're all like that," whispered Hornsbuck.
"Every one."
"Let's get out of here," said Mika, chills running down his back. "I don't like this place."
"I don't either," said Hornsbuck. "But at least no one seems to come here any more. There's that to be glad for."
As though waiting only for his words, the wolves began to growl, low ominous sounds rumbling deep in their chests. Their ears lay flat against their skulls, and their hackles rose thickly about their necks.
"What is it, Tam?" asked Mika holding out his torch and reaching nervously for his sword. But Tam never shifted his gaze and continued to stare into the darkness and growl. Slowly, RedTail began to move, gingerly stalking forward on stiff legs as though treading on eggshells. Tam followed reluctantly, his thick silver-plumed tail curled tightly over his black furred back. He seemed uncertain, cautious and perhaps even afraid, but his gold eyes blazed with hatred, and Mika knew that a blood lust was building in him.
Then Mika heard it, the rapid shuffling of a heavy body moving over the gritty floor. It was coming from his right. He held the torch up high, but there was nothing to be seen. The roan began to back and sidestep, yanking at his reins and whickering anxiously.
"What is it, Hornsbuck?" Mika asked, growing more and more anxious himself.
"I don't know," said Hornsbuck, unsheathing his sword. "But you'd best get ready. Tie that horse to one of those pillars. I suspect you might need both hands; the wolves say trouble's coming."
Mika tied the roan to the nearest pillar and unsheathed his sword.
They heard the breathing before they saw the creature, a heavy, stentorian sound that rasped on Mika's nerves like a sword striking bone.
Mika's hands grew sweaty and his sword drooped. A terrible roar cut through the darkness, and Mika stiffened, his sword springing to attention, quivering upright!
A darker shadow hovered in the shadows at the edge of the torchlight. Mika's spirit wilted. He could see that it was immense, over eight feet tall and more than five feet wide.
TamTur and RedTail were barking at the unseen enemy-short, harsh, staccato yaps-and their dewlaps were drawn back over their white slavering teeth.
"What is it, Hornsbuck?" asked Mika again, attempting to conceal the fear in his voice.
"I don't know!" growled Hornsbuck and, reaching over, wrenched a skull loose from the base of the pillar nearest him and threw it at the shadowy creature. There was an immediate roar of anger, and the thing lumbered into the circle of torchlight.
Mika wished with all his heart that it had stayed hidden in the dark. For now he could see the whole of the horrible thing. Never in his entire life had he faced anything more frightening. It was like the worst of nightmares come true.
Its head, if it could be called that, was merely a rounded extension of the whole. It had no neck. Its eyes were like four opaque stones, showing no glint of intelligence, clustered together and buried deep in the rolls of flesh in the center of its forehead. Its mouth was nearly as wide as its body and was lined with rows of gleaming, jagged teeth. Two great long teeth sprouted from the corners of the gaping maw and pointed toward the center. Curving out from the base of the two fangs for a distance of some two feet were two sharp-tipped, razor-edged, mandible-like devices that probed the air in front of the monster's face as though searching for prey.
Two massive arms were attached to the huge, ponderous, bulbous grey body and ended in four clawed fingers each. Its massive legs were similarly powerful yet primitive, resting on three-toed, clawed feet that advanced slowly, yet all too surely.
Its body reminded Mika of that of a giant tick, the grey skin stretched swollen and taut over the immense bulbous body.
"What is it!" shrilled Mika, backing up until he felt the warm bulk of the roan quivering fearfully behind him.
"Umber hulk," said Hornsbuck, backing up quickly and covering his eyes with his hand. "Don't look into its eyes, it'll stun you. Confuse you till you don't know your own name."