Behind him, he heard the boy scramble to catch up.
That walk past the main gate was one of the longest Lewan had ever taken. Thirty paces in, and the darkness encased him. The open gateway behind was a great panorama of light, open air, and greenery. But before and all around him was only blackness, thick and close. Lewan walked blind, wedged between the half-orc in front of him and the tiger behind. Taaki nudged him once or twice with her muzzle, urging him closer to Sauk.
The farther they walked, the closer the air pushed on him. He could feel the stone closing in around them through the many twists and turns and down shallow steps. He could tell by the varying echoes of their footsteps that they sometimes passed corridors to either side. Occasionally they took one,
Sauk never hesitating or slowing his pace. Once, Lewan heard something skittering away before them-something that sounded like the feet of an insect, but far larger. Lewan wondered if any of the great spiders out of the Khopet-Dag had ever made it this far east.
"How much farther?" he whispered.
"A ways," said Sauk. "We'll be in the Gallery of Stone Faces soon. Stay by me. I'm warded to pass, but if you stray…"
Sauk didn't finish the thought, and Lewan wasn't sure he wanted him to.
"C-can you see?" Lewan could not, though from the way the stone threw their voices back at him, he knew the walls to either side were very close, but if there was a ceiling above, it was very, very far away.
"I see fine," said Sauk, "though I could walk this way with my eyes closed."
The floor was smooth as any Lewan had walked inside the fortress, though a fine layer of sand and grit crunched beneath their boots. After a while he was surprised to realize that he could see. Not much at first-just a large shape outlined before him. It was Sauk. Really no more than a deeper darkness against a slightly-less-darkness beyond, but there was no mistaking it. Light ahead.
A bit farther on, the walls began to widen, only a bit at first, but then they fell back altogether and the echoes of their footsteps came from far away. Lewan could see quite well. Tiny shafts of sunlight, stray motes of dust wafting here and there, rode on thin sunbeams that fell from the ceiling far, far above. It was barely any light at all, but Lewan's eyes were so used to the dark, his pupils so wide and hungry for any illumination at all, that he could take in most of what Sauk had called the Gallery of Stone Faces. A huge room-larger than any king's court; larger even than many castles' outer courtyards-of unworked stone. But in the midst of the gallery, set haphazardly across the floor in no discernible pattern, were dozens and dozens of statues. A few were smaller than Lewan, but most were at least man-sized, and some were far larger. All were hideous-demons, devils, monsters, misshapen beasts, twisted humanoid forms, and more. The statues seemed to look down on Lewan and his two companions as they walked the maze between them. Again Lewan heard something skittering in the nearby gloom.
Lewan figured they were about halfway across the gallery when he caught sight of a moth as it flew between the sunbeams. The gray light caught in its wings, making them seem unnaturally bright in the dimness. Lewan watched it flutter off into the darkness. He had just lost sight of it off to his right when he heard a sharp snap! from that direction, very much like the sound of jaws closing over a moth that had flown too close.
Perhaps it was just being in the dark for too long, but as they walked, Lewan began to think he could see movement out of the corners of his eyes-stone heads that turned to watch as they passed, a muscular manlike thing with a bat's face whose grin seemed to grow after Lewan's first glance. Now and then, he thought he could hear a scraping, like the twisting of stone, over the sounds of their boot heels on the grit-covered floor. But each time Lewan whipped his head around to follow the movement or look in the direction of the sound, he saw nothing but leering faces, motionless and cold as stone.
When they emerged into the full light of day again, Lewan breathed a great sigh of relief. After a life lived in the open, sleeping under stars or boughs more often than not, Lewan had begun to feel trapped by all that stone.
Squinting as his eyes readjusted to the light, Lewan turned back to see the way they had come. Around the passage, carved into the stone itself, was a monstrous, leering face. Its open mouth formed the entrance to the tunnel, and its eyes, lacking both iris and pupil, seemed to stare down upon them.
The tiger emerged from the yawning mouth and padded over to her master.
"Taaki, gu th'nukh," said Sauk, and the tiger bounded away.
Lewan watched her go, and saw that they had emerged into a narrow canyon that wound its way down the mountainside. The walls were so tall that only a narrow strip of sky broke the view of stone, and all the canyon lay in cool, dry shadow.
Sauk turned to Lewan. "Talieth said you need woods, preferably with running water."
"Yes," said Lewan.
"Then follow me."
The half-orc switched the long, narrow bundle to his other shoulder, then turned and began walking down the canyon. Lewan followed.
Early afternoon though it was, the sun had long since sunk behind the jagged cone of Sentinelspire when Sauk led them into the woods-a steep, narrow valley choked with larch trees and smaller scrub brush. Lewan had neither seen nor heard the tiger since they'd left the tunnel. A stream rushed down the valley, tumbling over rocks and roots, but here and there it widened into little pools, none more than a few feet deep.
"This suits your needs?" Sauk asked him.
Before Lewan could answer, a low rumble rose in the earth beneath them, then grew to a roar, and the entire mountain shook beneath their boots. Sauk stumbled but managed to keep his feet. Lewan was not so lucky. He sat down hard on an exposed tree root and decided to stay there. Under him, he could feel the wood of the tree humming like a plucked harp string. Rocks tumbled down the mountain.
A final, long groan like dying thunder, and the trembling stopped. Small stones continued rattling down the mountainside, and in the distance Lewan thought he heard boulders crashing to canyon floors. Lewan saw the half-orc looking up the mountain and followed his gaze. There, between boughs full of their new spring clusters of light green needles, Lewan could see the jagged cone of Sentinelspire. White steam, looking almost like a wisp of cloud, was rising into the wind, which quickly blew it away.
Sauk turned to Lewan, seemed to consider something, then walked over to where he sat on the root. The half-orc towered over him, deep in thought.
Finally Sauk pulled the long bundle he'd been carrying over one shoulder and handed it to Lewan. "Take this," he said.
Lewan did. "What is it?"
"See for yourself."
Something hard was wrapped inside the canvas. Lewan untied the knot and unwound the leather cord. He pulled back the cloth, and one glance inside told him what it was.
"My master's bow."
"It seems a fine weapon," said Sauk. "I considered keeping it myself. Even if I weren't smart enough to recognize those runes as words of power in whatever language you leaf-lovers use in your rites, I could still feel the power in that bow. But it isn't for me."
"It is sacred to the Oak Father," said Lewan. "Only those sworn to him may waken its power."
"You know how to"-Sauk's lip twisted in a sneer, but Lewan caught a spark of curiosity in his eyes — "waken its power?"
Lewan shrugged.
Sauk looked down on him, and when Lewan said nothing more, the half-orc snorted and said, "Keep your secrets, then." His countenance grew suddenly grave, and he said, "Take the bow and go."