“What about the horses?” Brice held onto the reins and petted the gelding, trying to calm its nerves.
“They can fit, too. Come on!”
9
Laedron held his index finger to his lips and made sure each of his friends saw the gesture. The vibration had grown stronger. He could feel the tree tremble beneath his feet, and the shaking caused loose sap to drip onto them. Suddenly, the quaking stopped, as if the beast had passed. A cloud of dust hung in the air, and he likened the smell to the fertile soil his mother used to plant her garden each year. The hollow was dark, but whoever had created the space must have put holes into the tree somewhere above because a faint ray of sunshine came through, allowing just enough light to see. What purpose do the holes serve? To brighten the place or to tell at a glance if it’s day or night?
“This place gets stranger by the minute,” Marac said, trying to pick the sap from his hair. “Ruins of an ancient people, a beast made entirely of crystal, and now, we’re standing inside a living tree.”
“All of those things are certainly true.” Holding out the scepter, Laedron conjured a light spell, then started down the stairs. “Keep on your toes. No way of knowing what lies in wait beneath the earth.”
“And the horses?”
“We’re forced to leave them here for now. Put out some food.”
A few steps into the descent, Laedron heard the scraping of stone underfoot. He stepped down twice more, then crouched and held the scepter close to the stairs.
“What are you doing, Lae?” Marac scooted backward and put his hand on the earthen wall to keep his balance.
“Fascinating. The stairs seamlessly change from wood to stone here.” It reminded him of Pilgrim’s Rest, where the buildings had been carved into the faces of the cliffs, and the woodwork had been precisely fitted to the stone.
“Shouldn’t we focus on the task at hand? I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to admire the architecture later.”
“Powerful magic, Marac. A sign that we should not be careless here.”
“Magic? I’m not easily convinced. A master craftsman could do the same without spells.”
“We cannot assume such, for if we accept that this is the work of regular men, we would preclude the influence of the more dangerous possibility: mages. I would rather overestimate than underestimate what lies below.” He reached down and felt something wet on his fingertips. Bringing his hand up to his face, he squinted at the substance. “Blood. Small droplets.”
“Blood?” Marac asked.
“Like the drops we found earlier in the straw. Keep your eyes open.”
* * *
“How deep do you think we are?” Brice asked when they came to the bottom. “Fifty steps?”
“Closer to a sixty, I should think. Three or four stories into the ground.” Noticing a glint of something on the wall, Laedron released his spell, and the area remained dimly lit. Approaching the wall, Laedron whispered, “Some kind of gem or crystal putting off light. And look, a fixture of some kind.”
“Magical light?” Valyrie asked.
Laedron nodded. “It must be.”
“You’re not completely sure?”
Eying the precious stone and the flickering energy within, Laedron considered the evidence at hand. “There’s no one controlling it. If this is magic, it must be some kind of permanent spell.”
“There are more of them.” Brice pointed at the mouth of what appeared to be a cave. “Leading that way.”
Laedron crept over to the tunnel. He waited for the others to reach him, then continued until he reached a cross point. To his right, a pile of stones completely obstructed the way, but to his left, the corridor extended further than he could see, despite the ambient glow provided by the gemstones. When he looked at the floor, he spotted more blood trailing off to the left.
He took the left path, then froze in his tracks when he heard a crash behind him.
“Damned thing!” Marac shouted from where he had fallen. “Help me up, would you?”
“Quiet,” Laedron whispered. “We don’t know-”
“More adventurers come to see what they can take from our corpses? Cunning, too, to find the way in here,” a man’s voice said from the darkness ahead. “You had better speak up.”
“We… uh…” Laedron couldn’t think of anything to say. Zyvdredi? Bandits? Something else entirely?
“Not quite the response I anticipated. And young is the voice that replies. Interesting.”
“Who are you?”
“Strange that you should ask me that before you tell me your name. Did I come by stealth into your home, then demand to know who you are?”
“Forgive me if I’m reluctant to answer.” Laedron searched the shadows for a target, his scepter extended.
“Your hesitation gives me even more reason to rid the world of you, young man. One last time: what are you doing here and who are you?”
“My name is Laedron Telpist.”
“A good start. Now, what do you hope to find in this place? Piles of treasure? A hoard to sate your hunger for wealth?”
“Blast him, Lae,” Marac said under his breath. “Give it to him.”
He shook his head, unwilling to attack unprovoked. “We’re at a total disadvantage, and if I start throwing spells, the whole place could come down on us.”
“I’m waiting.” The man sounded angry, but controlled.
“We’ve come seeking answers.” His hand trembling, Laedron did his best to keep the rod pointed down the hall. “We were told that we might find them here.”
“Told? What fool would tell you to come here?”
“An old woman in Nessadene, a bookseller by the name of Callista.” Blinking rapidly, Laedron saw waves in the air that looked much like humidity fluttering above stone streets on a hot summer day. A few yards away, he saw fingertips pull down a cowl. Thick black locks appeared next, and finally, the invisibility spell faded away to reveal a man robed in dark gray.
The strange man said an incantation, approached Laedron, then smiled. The words of power had apparently been said to the gems because they flashed bright, illuminating the hallway by several orders of magnitude. “By your expression, I should think that you’ve never seen anything like this place.”
Laedron noticed the body of a wolf at the man’s feet, and the pattern on its coat was familiar. The wolf killed by the monster? This man has retrieved it, but for what purpose? “You assume correctly. How-”
“It’s not a matter of how. I should say, it’s not as important as why.”
“Very well. Why?”
“An answer you shall have in due time. For now, you follow.”
“Follow? I don’t even know your name. Care to give it?”
“It’s not safe to linger in the passages. Follow or remain here, for I’m busy.” The man turned and walked away.
Although the proposition of following some stranger through darkened halls didn’t appeal to him, Laedron turned to his companions. “Have we any choice but to follow?”
“If he meant us harm, he would have attacked in the blind,” Marac said. “You don’t give up your advantage, talk, then turn your back on people you intend to kill.”
Laedron glanced at Brice and Valyrie, and both nodded in agreement. “I suppose we’re in agreement, then.” He quickened his pace to catch up to the man, the others close behind.
He counted each step until he reached a hundred, then he stopped trying to keep track. When they came to a rope bridge, Laedron and his companions gawked in every direction at the domed cavern.
The view captivated him. He stood at the edge of eternity, the vast abyss beneath the rope bridge and the vaulted dome above so massive that their footsteps hadn’t produced an echo when they arrived. Through a hole across the expanse, a waterfall emptied into the chasm, and he gulped when he noticed that he couldn’t see the water striking the bottom of the pit.