Wynn ignored him.
Shade crawled through the underbrush toward where the cliff’s face must meet the slope behind the brush. Unable to stop herself, Wynn closed the crystal in her hand and dropped to all fours to follow Shade.
“What are you doing?” Chane asked in alarm, almost letting go of his branches.
Wynn scrambled in before he could stop her, keeping her eyes on Shade’s tail ... until she realized Shade should’ve reached the wall of the cliff by now. She raised the crystal, but all she could see was Shade’s haunches.
“What do you see?”
—Dark—
Darkness, and that was all? Shade wormed into the brittle branches to one side, and a strange, soft shift of stale air blew over Wynn. She crawled into the space Shade had left and found herself in a barren area beyond the brush. Wynn held up the crystal again.
Light shone upon a stone archway directly above her. She stood and her head almost touched the top. Shade stood beside her, and Wynn turned around, holding the crystal forward.
Wynn almost couldn’t believe what she saw. They were in the mouth of a tunnel, and every stone in the walls was perfectly set without a trace of mortar.
A short while later, Chane crawled into the tunnel after Wynn—with a knot in his stomach. In addition to his packs, he now carried heavy burdens of water, three blankets, and their remaining food supplies. They had abandoned the wagon and their travel chest, and let both horses go.
During the busy moments of final packing, when no one was looking, he had gulped down the last of the red-black life in his final brown bottle. After a moment’s hesitation, he also took another dose of the violet concoction as well.
Shade was now leading the way, and Ore-Locks brought up the rear. But once through, Chane could not stand fully erect and had to hunch in the tunnel.
“It was foolish to abandon the horses and trust this passage to take us through,” he said. “We do not know where it leads.”
Wynn turned her head and gave him a resolute look he had come to know well. She carried her staff in one hand and her cold lamp crystal in the other.
“Ore-Locks says it is common for his people to build a back way out of their seatts,” she said. “Though this one would be much longer than any he’s heard of. Why else would this tunnel be here in the middle of nowhere?” She turned back around. “No, this tunnel has to lead to somewhere else.”
The knot in Chane’s stomach tightened, as he could not fault her reasoning. Why else would the dwarves build a tunnel that led to the foot of the Slip-Tooth Pass?
Wynn pressed on behind Shade, and Chane began to wonder how long he could walk stooped over like this. Then an opening appeared ahead in the light of Wynn’s crystal, and they all emerged into a large, open area.
“What in the ... ?” Wynn began, and she quickly pulled out the spare cold lamp crystal, warmed it, and handed it to him.
Chane held up his to match hers and he saw openings in the walls at ground level. The knot in his stomach eased slightly. As his light shone on Wynn’s face, he could see doubt and even fear in her eyes. This was clearly not what she’d expected to find.
“Ore-Locks?” she said, her voice wavering. “What is this?”
The dwarf stepped around her. “I do not know. It looks similar to the entrance chamber at Cheku’ûn Station, in my seatt, but ...”
Ore-Locks pointed up.
Chane followed his finger to see large dead crystals embedded high on the walls. In his mind’s eye, he envisioned the rushing, busy entrance caverns that he and Wynn had visited at Dhredze Seatt, with glowing orange crystals offering warmth and light. Vending booths had filled the cavern air with the scent of sausages, smoke, and livestock amid the sounds of dwarves in avid barter.
Yes, he could see the similarities in this lifeless place, but it was somewhat smaller than the market cavern he had visited. Had they simply wandered into the remains of an old settlement? Perhaps they could still go back and he could catch the horses.
Wynn headed at a fast clip for a large archway at the chamber’s far side. Chane and the others were forced to quickstep to catch her. In spite of himself, Chane began to wonder what they had found here.
Holding his crystal high as they passed through a short tunnel to the next cavern, he immediately spotted the large tunnel beyond. Three lanes of grooved tracks stretched into the dark passage. At the tracks’ near ends were triple platforms. But what troubled him more was the sight of long-dead trams at all three docks. Whatever happened here, all trams that once served this unknown route had arrived and been left abandoned.
Did any of the trams still function? If so, he hated this prospect even more, for that would hasten Wynn’s rush toward whatever lay at the route’s end. He was losing any remnants of control here, with no way to stop her. If he openly argued now, she might realize his true intention and dismiss him.
Shade glanced up at Chane and rumbled, as if this was all his fault, as if he should have somehow prevented it.
Perhaps he should have.
“Come look at this,” Wynn said quietly, standing beside the far end car of one tram.
Chane joined her and found her studying a cylindrical, dead crystal about the size of his torso. It was secured at the front of what had once been some form of engine to push and pull the tram.
“Do you remember?” she asked.
Of course he did. How could he possibly forget the sight of these crystals bursting into light and then the tram lurching until it raced down the tracks? The determination on Wynn’s face was increasing by the moment. This must be so much more than she had hoped to find.
“Ore-Locks,” she called. “Can you make these work?”
The dwarf was examining a long-decayed car. “I have no knowledge of such engineering, but even if I could, the tram cars are not sound.” Then he looked ahead down the tram’s tunnel. “I think I may see ... wait here. I will be back.”
Before anyone could speak, he trotted off at a fast pace.
“What is he doing now?” Chane asked.
Wynn just gazed down at the tram’s crystal. “I wish we could make one of these work. Imagine how quickly we’d make it under and across the range.”
But that was the crux—the trams did not, would not work.
“Can you not turn back?” he said suddenly, unable to stop himself. “Have you not tried hard enough, suffered enough, only to walk into dangers we cannot even guess?”
Wynn blinked in surprise. “Turn back? Chane, you don’t really want to ... ?” She trailed off, as if struggling for words. “You know we can’t fail. You’re with me here, aren’t you?”
Chane hesitated, glancing aside, and he found Shade watching them both.
“Always,” he answered.
He could see Wynn about to press him further, but Ore-Locks came trotting back, no longer carrying his iron staff.
“What did you find?” Wynn asked.
“Give me a moment, and I will show you.”
To Chane’s surprise, the dwarf leaned over and used his broad hands to bend the brackets holding down the crystal engine. Both brackets broke easily, and he lifted the heavy crystal off its base.
“Follow me,” he said, trotting off again.
With little choice, they hurried after him. He led them a short way down the tracks to find two good-sized carts made of solid metal. Wynn walked quickly to the one farthest down the tracks.
Its platform was thick, but a large metal “box” with high sides had been attached on the top, as if the cart had once been used to transport materials for short distances. Ore-Locks’s staff was already stowed inside. A bare section of the platform at the back sported a two-man pump.
Wynn looked to the large crystal in Ore-Locks’s arms. “Do you think you can—?”