Cing Ho Listened to Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin’s report in the privacy of his cabin aboard the flagship. When they were done he unrolled a map across his large desk, pinning the ends down with small lead weights. The information on it was based on intelligence gathered, not firsthand knowledge, as no Chinese sailor had ever ventured so far from home.
“The Sinai is a large place” was Cing Ho’s summation, tapping the large blank space indicating a landmass between the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea. “You have no idea where exactly this mountain is?”
“No,” Nosferatu said.
Cing Ho seemed troubled. “This land is not very hospitable. I believe it will be difficult to find a landfall where we can get enough provisions for the entire fleet.”
Nosferatu remained silent. Cing Ho’s problems were not his. He and Tian Dao Lin had even considered not returning to the fleet, but the reality was that the Chinese armada was their best possible chance to overcome whatever force Aspasia’s Shadow was gathering. For Nosferatu the goal was to get Aspasia’s Shadow to reveal where Horus and the other three Airlia were in the deep sleep, so he could drain the blood from at least one of them for Nekhbet. For Tian Dao Lin the fleet was his best opportunity to return to his home in China and be in favor with Artad.
“I will land here,” Cing Ho finally decided, tapping a landfall on the Sinai next to the Red Sea. “However, there is something we must first do elsewhere.”
Nosferatu wondered what could be a higher priority than finding and killing Aspasia’s Shadow, but he kept the question to himself.
It took a week to sail around the tip of the Sinai. As they approached the Red Sea, Nosferatu felt a twinge of recognition. It had been many, many years since he had sailed out of the Red Sea on a flimsy reed boat, escaping from Egypt and the Airlia Gods.
Nosferatu received a second unexpected surprise when, instead of turning to the northwest and entering the Red Sea, they cut south across the Gulf of Aden to the shore of Africa and actually turned to the east, paralleling the shore, in the same manner Nosferatu had done so many years previously. For a moment, as he saw the shore of Africa appear, he feared that somehow Cing Ho knew where Nekhbet was hidden and was heading for her; but he realized the ridiculousness of that fear immediately. He had told no one, not even Tian Dao Lin, where he had hidden his love. And why would Cing Ho — or his master, Artad — care? Nosferatu knew that the Chinese admiral was on some other mission, most likely something to do with whatever was locked in the vault near the bow of the ship.
They sailed along the Somalian coast before making landfall in a natural harbor. A small village was on the shore and Cing Ho had all the villagers put to the sword. That evening, under the cover of darkness, Cing Ho went to the forward hold and unlocked the door. A heavy wooden crate was brought out and rowed ashore. Two long poles were slid through hinges on either side. Cing Ho formed a division of two thousand soldiers on the beach, the crate secure in the middle, carried by a dozen men on each pole.
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin watched from the deck of the flagship as the formation moved inland. Cing Ho had not said a word to them, so by default they were being left with the fleet.
“Where do you think they are going?” Tian Dao Lin asked.
Nosferatu shrugged. “What is more important is what it is that they are carrying. It is more important than Aspasia’s Shadow.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with Aspasia’s Shadow,” Tian Dao Lin suggested.
“How can that be?”
It was Tian Dao Lin’s turn to shrug. “I do not know, but Artad is obviously very wise and his reach is long.”
“There is one way to find out,” Nosferatu said. “You remain here. Keep up the pretense that I remain in our cabin. I will follow.” The Chinese had not watched the two very carefully, primarily because jumping ship in the middle of nowhere wasn’t considered a viable option.
Nosferatu had no problem slipping off the flagship undetected. It was also easy to follow the trail of Cing Ho’s army inland as they cut a broad swath through the jungle. Nosferatu quickly caught up to the army. He followed for two weeks, sleeping during the day while the army marched and catching up every evening.
The terrain quickly grew more rugged and mountainous. Near the end of the second week the army entered the strangest land Nosferatu had ever seen. It was as if a giant had smashed the Earth with a large axe, leaving a massive rift in the surface. A river ran in the bottom of the rift and sharp peaks surrounded it on both sides. Nosferatu followed the army down into the rift.
After two days of difficult maneuvering north, the army came to a halt. That evening Nosferatu watched from a nearby hill as Cing Ho gathered a small group of his most trusted warriors around the mysterious box. They were lined up next to the wall of the rift and Nosferatu blinked in amazement as they turned toward the wall and seemed to disappear from view. He realized there must be an opening, perhaps a cave in the rift wall. He crept down through the Chinese camp to the spot and saw an opening behind a boulder. He could see the glow from the torches of those who had entered ahead and he followed, keeping his distance.
The small tunnel soon opened into a sloping cavern over five hundred meters wide, the ceiling over a hundred meters high. Nosferatu knew from his time in the Roads of Rostau and Qian-Ling that this was not a natural formation but the work of the Airlia Gods. For as far as he could see the cavern descended into the Earth at the same angle. Cing Ho’s party was a glowing spot about eight hundred meters ahead.
Nosferatu followed. The cavern grew even wider until he couldn’t see either side. While the Black Sphinx and Qian-Ling had been magnificent in their own ways, this cavern made Nosferatu wonder at the true power of the Airlia. He felt as if he were descending to the very center of the Earth as he continued to follow Cing Ho’s party down the steady slope.
He realized that the temperature, which had been cooler than the outside when he first entered the cavern, was beginning to rise. Then, far ahead, he could make out a faint thin red glowing line. As he got closer he could see that a crevice split the cavern floor. The far side of the crevice was over half a mile away. Nosferatu swung to the right as Cing Ho’s party reached the crevice and came to a halt.
Sliding to the edge of the crevice, Nosferatu peered down. The walls were vertical and there was no bottom that he could see, just a bright red glow pulsating upward. He could feel the wave of heat coming from the bowels of the planet. It was a mesmerizing vision and, with great difficulty, he drew his attention back to Cing Ho as he heard the faint echo of the Chinese admiral giving orders to his men.
Nosferatu saw that there was a console, similar to the one he had seen in Qian-Ling, near the edge. Cing Ho was standing behind it, his hands moving over the surface, his face reflected in a glow. Nosferatu moved back and above the site. He could see that the surface of the console was like that on his own tube — covered with hexagonals with High Rune writing.
Cing Ho tapped several of the hexes as two of his men used bars to break open the crate. As the wood fell away it revealed a large, dull red, multifaceted sphere. Other soldiers gathered round the sphere and, at Cing Ho’s command, carefully edged it toward the edge of the chasm.
Cing Ho hit another hex and a black metal pole came out of the side of the chasm. Then another. And another. The three poles stopped when they were extended about fifteen meters out. Three intrepid soldiers climbed down and balanced themselves on the poles as the other slid the red sphere over the edge. As soon as they had the sphere balanced precariously on the poles, the soldiers quickly moved out of the way.