‘The one that looks like a figure eight with a billhook through it?’
‘Yes, the green one. It means…well, it means a lot of things, but chiefly something like birth or beginning. One interpretation is “seed”; another’s “Spring”, or “a well”.’
‘Not too difficult to interpret, then,’ she said.
‘No. It’s fairly obviously a starting point. All those other symbols the pendulum’s passed on its journey presumably mark important stages or events.’
‘Events in what? Somebody’s life?’
Caldason had been taking this in silently. Now he spoke. ‘All of our lives.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Kutch is beginning to understand. Aren’t you, Kutch?’
The apprentice nodded. He was pale, despite the heat.
‘Don’t keep me in suspense,’ Serrah complained. ‘What is it?’
‘That symbol right at the top, in black and orange,’ Kutch explained hesitantly, indicating an image the size of a wagon wheel. ‘It’s the Founders’ glyph for all. Everything.’
‘And by everything…’
‘Scholars believe it meant just that; the whole thing. The world.’
‘I still don’t-’
‘Look where the pendulum is now,’ Caldason said. ‘You see? Where the tip of the arrow’s pointing? I’d put money on what that symbol means.’
‘It’s end,’ Kutch confirmed. ‘Not death exactly, because the Founders didn’t seem to have a symbol for that. But “cease”, “expend” and “ultimate” all fit. It’s a symbol we always see in relation to the Founder concept of the Last Days.’
‘Oh, great,’ Serrah exclaimed. ‘We come looking for help and find the world’s about to end. Assuming the Founders knew what they were talking about.’
‘They were an extremely perceptive race,’ Kutch replied.
‘It doesn’t follow that they were right about everything. I mean, if they were so clever, how come they aren’t still around?’
‘I suppose even the Founders weren’t infallible. But they had the most advanced civilisation the world’s ever seen. They could have been right about this.’
She sniffed dubiously and studied the pendulum. ‘What do you think that means in terms of time? How long do we have left?’
‘This thing was designed to measure eons. So who can say? Centuries? Weeks?’
‘More likely weeks than centuries,’ Caldason said.
‘How do you figure that out?’ Serrah asked.
‘Because we’ve arrived here at just this time.’
‘That sounds very mystical for you, Reeth.’
‘It…feels right.’
Kutch nodded in agreement.
‘You’re saying we were somehow meant to be here at this time?’ she pressed.
‘I don’t know what I’m saying, only that being here now seems a kind of…fit.’
‘Getting here as the world’s due to end is good timing?’
‘As you said; maybe they were wrong about that.’
‘But you think something’s going to happen?’
‘I’m hoping we’ll find the Source.’
‘We’re all hoping that. It’s why we came, remember?’ She took in the vastness of the cavern. ‘So where is it?’ There was a trace of mild derision in her voice.
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps Kutch’s spotting talent…’
‘I don’t think I can,’ the boy confessed.
‘I thought you were trained to filter things out,’ Serrah said.
‘I was. But this place is so saturated, it’s impossible.’
‘We don’t have a plan then.’
‘Yes we do,’ Caldason corrected. ‘The oldest one in the book. We search.’
‘Where?’
‘This cavern might not be all there is down here.’ He nodded towards the rock wall furthest from the Clepsydra, where shadows were deepest.
‘Fine by me. This thing gives me the creeps; I’ll be glad to get away from it.’ She turned her back on the dreadful, pulsating mechanism.
They set out. As they neared the wall, they activated their glamoured orbs. The outlines of several tunnels could be seen, darker than the surrounding gloom.
‘Which one?’ Kutch asked.
‘We could split up,’ Serrah suggested.
Caldason shook his head. ‘Not wise.’
‘Hey,’ Kutch said, ‘look at this.’ He was scraping at the dusty ground with the sole of his boot. ‘I hadn’t noticed it before.’
Serrah gazed down. ‘What is it?’
‘A marked energy line.’ He’d revealed part of a dark blue stripe, still vivid after an eternity.
‘Here’s another.’ She exposed a patch of yellow.
‘Nothing surprising about that,’ Caldason decided. ‘The Founders started the tradition, didn’t they, Kutch?’
‘Hmm, it’s thought so.’ He was preoccupied with clearing the dirt.
Between them, shuffling about, they uncovered half a dozen or more. Red, green, orange, purple, criss-crossing the cavern’s base and slicing into the Clepsydra.
‘At least three run straight from that tunnel,’ Kutch pointed out.
Caldason took a look. ‘So let’s go that way.’
‘As a system for finding something,’ Serrah protested, ‘this is crazy. You do know that, don’t you, Reeth?’
‘Got a better idea?’
She hadn’t.
They moved towards the opening, orbs held out and weapons ready. The entrance they’d chosen was generously sized, easily wide and tall enough for them to pass through comfortably, but they felt no ease as they went in.
They found themselves in a tunnel that turned sharply to their right. As it progressed it slanted, taking them gently but decisively deeper. When the path levelled, a few hundred paces on, it opened out and led into another chamber. This was large, but nowhere near as huge as the one above.
Everything here looked natural, unlike the unknown substance the maze was fashioned from. Stalagmites and stalactites bristled like serpents’ teeth, and there were stone hillocks and granite arches. Tunnel mouths riddled the cavern. In places, the rock resembled grey frozen waves, as though it had flowed before hardening. The air was fusty.
‘I wonder how far this all goes on for,’ Serrah said.
‘Could be miles,’ Caldason reckoned.
‘So how do we go about searching?’
He turned to Kutch. ‘What do your senses tell you now?’
‘The magic’s less oppressive, but it still feels like a blanket. Though…’
‘What?’
‘It seems a little weaker in that direction.’ He nodded.
‘All right. Come on that way.’
Serrah caught his arm. ‘Should we be going the way Kutch senses less magic?’
‘We’re going the way of difference. It’s all we’ve got at the moment.’
They fell in beside him and moved in the direction Kutch had indicated. Tramping the irregular floor, they were aware of the humidity and the unmoving air.
Then Caldason stopped and held up a hand. ‘Feel that?’
A cool draught blew gently from a nearby tunnel.
It caressed Serrah’s cheek. ‘So we go in there, right?’ She viewed the prospect sourly.
‘Yes, let’s keep following our hunches.’
‘I think you mean your hunches, Reeth.’
They entered the shaft. It was narrow and winding, and it reminded Serrah of why she shunned enclosed spaces. However, eventually it opened into yet another sizeable cavern, not unlike the last.
‘How many more?’ Kutch wondered.
Serrah shushed him.
There was a rushing noise. The light from their orbs threw back the glint of a subterranean river. At first they thought it was more quicksilver, but it proved to be water, and it was cold, despite the sultry atmosphere.
Serrah knelt on the bank and scooped a little with her palm. The taste was intensely brackish and she spat it out.
‘What did you expect,’ Caldason teased, ‘honeyed wine?’
She rose and looked about. ‘This is hopeless, Reeth. We could wander around down here forever.’
‘Perhaps we should be a bit more methodical about it,’ he conceded.
‘It’d make sense to have some kind of system. Maybe we could-’ A sound cut her short. Then she caught a movement on the edge of her vision. Something darted into one of the tunnel entrances.