Cing Ho continued to work the console and cables snaked out of the poles, wrapping around the sphere. Then the poles began to extend once more. As they did so they spread apart. The sphere suddenly dropped, only to come to a halt five meters below, suspended from the cables. The poles continued to extend until they had bridged the chasm and the sphere was directly in the center.
Cing Ho ordered his men back. Then he hit one last hexagonal.
Nosferatu dived to the floor as the sphere gave off a fierce red glow, bathing the immediate area with light. Cing Ho and the soldiers were so focused on the sphere that they didn’t spot him. A shelf slid out of the console, and upon it rested a small black sphere that Cing Ho removed and placed in a leather satchel at his side. Nosferatu got to his feet and ran back up the cavern into the darkness.
Looking over his shoulder he could see that Cing Ho and his men were also heading back.
Nosferatu sprinted on, keeping ahead of the group. Heading upslope, the cavern seemed even larger. He had no idea how long they had been underground, but his internal sense of time told him that it would be daylight. He moved to the right, out of the direct path to the exit, and allowed Cing Ho and his men to pass.
He sat down on the smooth stone to wait. Cing Ho and his group passed out of sight. Nosferatu had no idea what he had just witnessed, but he was sure there was great power revolving around the mysterious red sphere.
Several hours later, Nosferatu heard the sound of metal on stone echoing down the cavern. He panicked, worried that Cing Ho was sealing the cavern from the outside. He dashed upslope until he could see several torches near the entrance, but quickly came to a halt when he realized they weren’t blocking the entrance. They had erected a black stone, three meters high by one in width. Several men were polishing the surface smooth while another was chiseling something on it as soon as they finished a spot.
This went on for several hours, then the group departed, leaving Nosferatu in darkness once more. He went up to the stone. He could just make out the Chinese writing. He’d learned the language while on board ship and he read the words: Cing Ho reached this place as directed. He did his duty as ordered.
They made landfall at Jidda, a small port along the Arabian coast. Nosferatu had easily beaten Cing Ho and his men back to the fleet and told Tian Dao Lin about what he had witnessed. They discussed it at length but had to accept that they had no idea what the purpose of putting the ruby sphere in the cavern could be. They also discovered that Cing Ho had had every man who’d gone into the cavern with him executed during the march back, their bodies buried in the barren countryside.
Leaving a guard force of five thousand sailors, Cing Ho led the rest of the contingent, roughly twenty-three thousand men, ashore. He took the entire town of Jidda hostage and located Jabal Mosa by the expedient methods of torture and execution.
Finding the mountain’s location was easy, but getting there would be another matter. According to the information they received, the mountain was located inland, across inhospitable desert. Cing Ho approached it as if they were simply continuing their long voyage on land. Numerous water casks were unloaded from the ships, along with other provisions, and the army set forth with several captives who claimed to know the location of the mountain at the head of the column. They marched at night, resting during the heat of the day.
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin rose each evening and ranged out from the long, dusty column, searching the countryside. On the fourth evening, the two crested a small hill and looked to the south and east. They could see two mountains in the distance. Looking back the way they had come, they could see a plume of dust indicating the progress of Admiral Ho’s column, the lead about a half mile behind them.
Nosferatu knew without having to consult any of the captives that the mountain to the left was Jabal Mosa even though the other was taller. It was a jagged peak, with a gray cloud swirling around the top, a most strange phenomenon as the sky was otherwise clear, the stars sparkling overhead.
They waited until Cing Ho rode up to their position. The Chinese admiral stared at the two peaks for several moments in silence, then he spoke. “The locals — the desert people — they worship the mountain. They say a demon lives there.”
“That would fit,” Nosferatu said. “Aspasia’s Shadow enjoys sowing fear.”
“I will encircle the mountain this evening. Tomorrow evening we will assault it. You will follow the assault to finish off Aspasia’s Shadow once we have him cornered.”
Nosferatu said nothing as Cing Ho went off to deploy his large army. When he was out of earshot, Tian Dao Lin expressed what Nosferatu was thinking. “It has been too easy.”
Nosferatu continued to stare at the cloud-crowned peak. “Thus far it has. I think that will change tomorrow evening.”
As dawn broke, Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin sat on the hill, their bodies draped in robes, turbans wrapped around their faces, protecting their eyes. Through the layers of cloth both could see the dust raised by the Chinese army as it moved forward toward Jabal Mosa. Bugles relayed commands, keeping the advance coordinated. By early afternoon the mountain was surrounded by a cordon of troops.
“There is something strange about the mountain,” Tian Dao Lin said. “One can understand why the local people believe it is haunted.”
The unnatural cloud that swirled around the peak had not dissipated all day and yet remained. There wasn’t any sign of life on the slopes of the mountain even though Cing Ho made no attempt to hide his preparations for attack.
As darkness fell, the thousands of torches that the Chinese soldiers had carried with them were lit, encircling Jabal Mosa with a ring of fire. Nosferatu sniffed the air. “Something is not right.”
Tian Dao Lin was looking about, left and right. “We’re not alone. Humans. Close. Behind us.”
Nosferatu saw nothing, but he could smell the sweat of men. He stood when a half dozen figures appeared, bows with drawn arrows in their hands. Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin drew their own weapons, prepared to give battle.
“Hold.” The language was that of the Airlia, followed immediately by something in Arabic to the warriors. The speaker strode forward.
“You must have come close to Artad,” Aspasia’s Shadow said, coming to a halt in front of the two Undead. He looked past them at the circle of fire and laughed. “But you did not slay him it appears. You have been gone a very long time.” He looked at Tian Dao Lin. “Another half-breed. By Artad?”
Tian Dao Lin nodded. “Artad is my father.”
“It is rather amazing that the Airlia have been viewed as Gods for so long considering how they seem to want to consort with inferior species.” He gestured back the way he had come. “Come with me.”
“Where?” Nosferatu held fast.
“Come with me or die here and now.”
Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin bowed to the inevitable and irresistible and followed Aspasia’s Shadow as he made his way down the hill. More Bedouin warriors appeared in the dark, completely surrounding them. Peering about, Nosferatu realized there was a massive army of Bedouins surrounding the Chinese. How so many had managed to move up unnoticed he didn’t know, but if anyone could do it here, he knew it would be the desert people.
Aspasia’s Shadow seemed to disappear behind a boulder and when they followed, they discovered a door, similar to the guarded entrances to the Roads of Rostau, that opened on the back side of the boulder. They entered along with a guard of a dozen Bedouin warriors. As soon as they were all inside, the door slid shut.
The corridor was dimly lit by recessed lighting of a form Nosferatu had never seen before. They descended, then reached a long, straight tunnel of smoothly cut stone. They went along the tunnel for quite a while and Nosferatu realized they were passing underneath the encircling Chinese troops. Soon the tunnel began to ascend and they entered a large hallway with wood doors along both sides.