“Are you all right?”
Dannyl jumped at the question. Tayend was regarding him closely.
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re breathing a bit fast.”
“Oh. Was I?”
“Yes.”
After a few more steps, Dannyl quietly took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started practicing a calming exercise.
Tayend glanced at him and smiled. “Does being underground bother you?”
“No.”
“Lots of people feel uncomfortable in places like this. I’ve had plenty go all panicky in the library, so I’ve learned to recognize the signs. You will tell me if you’re going to get panicky, won’t you? I don’t much like the idea of being near a panicky magician.”
Dannyl smiled. “I’m fine. I’m just... remembering a few unpleasant experiences I’ve had in similar places.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
Somehow, relating the two experiences made Dannyl feel better. Describing how the Thieves came to bury him led to stories about the search for Sonea. As he reached the part where he had entered the tunnels under the University and encountered the High Lord, Tayend’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re scared of him, aren’t you?”
“No. Not scared so much as... well, it depends on the situation.”
Tayend chuckled. “Well, if someone as scary as you is afraid of the High Lord, then I’m definitely keeping out of his way.”
Dannyl checked his stride. “I’m scary?”
“Oh, yes.” Tayend nodded. “Very scary.”
“But...” Dannyl shook his head. “I haven’t done anything to—” He stopped as he remembered the mugger. “Well, I guess I have now—but surely you weren’t scared of me before then?”
“Of course I was.”
“Why?”
“All magicians are scary. Everyone has heard what they can do—but it’s what you don’t know they can do that is scarier.”
Dannyl grimaced. “Well, I guess you’ve seen what I can do, now. And I didn’t mean to kill him.”
Tayend regarded him silently for a few steps. “How are you feeling about that?”
“Not great,” Dannyl admitted. “You?”
“I’m not sure. It’s like I’ve got two different and opposing views at the same time. I’m not sorry you killed him, but I do think killing is wrong. I suppose it’s the uncertainty that bothers me most. Who really knows whether it was right or wrong? I’ve read more books than most people I know, and none of them agree on anything. But there’s one thing I do want to say to you.”
Dannyl forced himself to meet Tayend’s eyes. “Yes?”
“Thank you.” Tayend’s expression was sober. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Something inside Dannyl loosened, like a knot unravelling. He realized he had needed Tayend’s gratitude. It did not make his conscience any easier to live with, but it helped him to keep the whole event in perspective.
Looking ahead, he noticed that his globe light was failing to illuminate the walls in the distance. He frowned, then realized they were approaching a larger cavern. As they neared this, a mineral smell caught Dannyl’s attention. The tang in the air grew more distinct as they arrived at the opening. Dannyl sent his globe light out and Tayend gasped.
The chamber was as wide as the Guildhall, and filled with glistening curtains and spires of white. The sound of dripping water echoed through the space. Looking closely, Dannyl could see moisture falling from the ends of the stalactites. Between the fang-like stalagmites a shallow stream trickled.
“The Tombs of White Tears,” Tayend murmured.
“Formed by water seeping through the roof, depositing minerals wherever it flows,” Dannyl explained.
Tayend rolled his eyes. “I knew that.”
A slippery path led down into the chamber. Descending carefully, they made their way along the uneven floor. As they passed the fantastic white structures, more came into sight. Suddenly Tayend stopped.
“The Mouth of Death,” he said in a hushed voice.
Ahead, a row of stalagmites and stalactites crossed the chamber. Some had grown into each other and were slowly thickening to form columns. The gaps between others were so small, it seemed as if they would meet in mere moments. Each was colossal at the floor or ceiling, tapering to fine white points, so that the whole arrangement looked like the teeth of a huge animal.
“Shall we see if there’s a stomach?” Tayend asked. Not waiting for an answer, he ducked through two of the teeth and disappeared.
Following, Dannyl found Tayend standing on one side of a tunnel, beckoning furiously. The walls on either side were curtains of glistening white, broken here and there by shallow horizontal alcoves. Moving to Tayend’s side, he saw that a skeleton lay within a small alcove. A new curtain of white had formed, half covering the alcove.
“They must have cut the tombs knowing that the walls would grow down to cover them,” Tayend said quietly.
Moving on, they found another tomb, then another. The farther they travelled, the older and more numerous the tombs. Eventually there were no skeletons to be seen, just walls that had covered the alcoves completely.
Dannyl knew that hours had passed. The Vindo forbade visitors to the caves during daylight, and he began to worry that they would not return to the beach in time to meet their boat. When they reached the end of the tunnel he breathed a sigh of relief.
“There’s nothing here,” Tayend said, casting about.
Around them the walls were unbroken. Dannyl moved closer to the right, examining them carefully. They almost seemed to be translucent in places. Following suit, Tayend peered at the surface of the left-hand wall intently. After several minutes, he called Dannyl’s name excitedly.
Moving to his friend’s side, Dannyl saw that Tayend was pointing at a small hole.
“Can you get some light in there?”
“I’ll try.”
As Tayend moved aside, Dannyl created a tiny spark and sent it into the hole. He watched as it moved through a finger-width of white mineral deposit, then out into darkness.
Brightening the spark to light the space beyond, he felt a smile spread across his face.
“What is it?” Tayend asked excitedly. “Let me see!”
Stepping aside, Dannyl watched as Tayend bent to peer in the hole. The scholar’s eyes widened. Beyond the curtain of white was a small cave. A carved coffin lay in the center of the room. The walls inside were partly coated in mineral sediment, but much of the original carved decoration was still visible.
Tayend whipped out sheets of paper and a drawing stick from his coat, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How long have I got?”
Dannyl shrugged. “An hour, probably less.”
“That’ll be enough for now. Can we come back again?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Tayend grinned. “We’ve found it, Dannyl! We’ve found what your High Lord was searching for. Evidence of ancient magic!”
22
Avoiding the High Lord
As Sonea left the Healers’ Quarters, novices hurried past her, some running or leaping about and whooping. Sonea listened to the laughter and excitement around her. With the final gong still ringing in their ears, novices of all ages and levels were talking of riding horses, attending court dances and playing games she had never heard of.
For the next two weeks brown robes would be a rare sight on the grounds, as the novices—and not a few magicians—returned to their families for the winter break. If only I could leave, too. She thought wistfully of spending the days with her aunt and uncle, and their baby, in the slums. But he would never let me.
Reaching the University, she paused as several older novices rushed out. A few stragglers hurried past her as she climbed the stairs. Once she had reached the second floor, however, she found herself abruptly alone.
The silence in the corridor had an emptiness to it that she hadn’t experienced before, even late at night. Clasping her box to her chest, Sonea hurried to a side passage.