“There’s not supposed to be animals here!” Tallow hissed as the eerie howl echoed off the canyon walls, the sound bouncing and redoubling upon itself until it became a cold, mournful wail.
“Is this canyon supposed to be here?” Cassanya asked, tugging the apprentice to stand beside Feral, so that the two of them were flanked by herself and Balthor.
“Well, no,” Tallow admitted, slowly raising her staff defensively, eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow.
“Wolves?” Blue asked, fitting an arrow to his bow.
“Too deep,” Balthor told him as the keening howl paused, the lupari’s eyes scanning the shadows. “That’s bigger than a wolf.”
“What else howls like that?” the sciurel looked around.
“Pass,” Cassanya hefted her mace. “I’d settle for knowing where it is, damn cliffs!” she spared a glance at the near rock face as it ricocheted the sound in all directions.
“Where they are,” Feral corrected her, his head turning slightly, his eyes closed in concentration. “There’s two. Furthest one is larger.”
“Good ears,” Tallow told him, standing with her back to his. “Can I get some like them?”
“I’ll lend them to you some time. I think one’s that way,” he pointed and Blue aimed an arrow in the direction Feral had indicated.
“There’s too much cover for them,” the sciurel declared angrily, glaring at the tortured ground as it rose around them, a mountain range in miniature. “All these bloody rocks, I can’t see a thing!”
“I’d feel better if they’d just shut up!” Tallow said, glancing over her shoulder.
As if on command, the eerie howls ceased, the chilling echoes fading slowly as they reverberated away down the canyon.
“Uh oh...” Balthor looked around.
“Uh oh?” Tallow queried.
“Most beasts try to warn you out of their patch before they fight,” the lupari gripped his sword hilt tighter. “We haven’t left.”
“Uh oh...”
“Nor have they,” Cassanya pointed. Atop a large outcropping of rock, some ten yards to their left, a shadowy form moved against the deep blue sky. A deep growl rumbled through the dark air.
“Do I shoot?” Blue asked, his bowstring taught, one eye half closed as he lined up his shot.
“Wait... it might back off,” Balthor shook his head.
The dark creature did not. Instead, it threw itself forwards from the top of the boulder with astonishing speed, a thunderous, wolf-like bark following it. Feral had enough time to register glittering eyes and wet, yellowed teeth before Cassanya had shoved him aside, intercepting the creature’s rush with her mace, the impact spinning the large leonin in place.
The beast yelped, landing on its back, but scrabbled to its feet a moment later, crouched against the ground, growling deeply. It might have been a wolf, Feral though, only it was a lot bigger than it should be, almost eight feet from nose to tail. The eyes showed no glimmer of colour or hint of light, seeming no more than black pits in its head – a head that seemed misshapen. The left ear did not seem to match the right, the entire skull bulging obscenely on one side. Grey fur showed missing patches in the twilight, the skin underneath seeming just as colourless, with none of the warm pinks of living flesh. Along the body, too, the creature seemed malformed and misshapen, several oversized ribs forming a ridge around its chest, its hips lopsided, one rear leg thicker than the other.
It crouched on the ground, growling, threatening.
Buying time.
“Behind!” Feral shouted, keen hearing picking up the shuffle of movement at his back, turning in time to see the second creature in mid leap. Bigger than the first, it too seemed malformed, paws out of scale with the legs, the head twisted, the teeth sharp and irregular. Tallow’s scream rang in his ears as he grabbed her around the waist and wrenched them both to one side as Blue’s arrow thudded into the creature’s grey flesh. It yelped, landing where the apprentice had been a moment before, snapping at her feet with yellowed fangs.
Rolling over Tallow, shielding her body with his own, Feral kicked out at beast, catching the side of its head with his boot, staggering it just long enough for the blow of Balthor’s sword to settle the matter.
A thud and a crunch sounded from one side, and Feral looked up to see the first creature fall back to the uneven ground, half it’s head crushed under the blow of Cassanya’s mace. Apparently making sure, she strode forward and finalised the death strike with unnerving efficiency.
“Are they dead?” Tallow asked shakily as Feral rolled off her, scrambling to his feet, looking around in case there were more.
“Definitely,” Balthor said, kicking the head and watching it roll away from the body.
“If not it never will be,” Cassanya agreed, looking down at the creature at her feet.
“Thank goodness,” Tallow sighed, hesitating for only a moment before accepting Feral’s hand as he offered it to her, allowing him to help her to her feet.
“You ok?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” she nodded, looking at him for a few seconds. “Thank you,” she added. “That was very brave.”
Blushing suddenly, Feral rubbed the back of his neck. “Not really, I didn’t have time to think about it, I just kinda...”
“Then it was doubly brave,” Tallow interrupted, hovering her finger an inch before his lips. Feral thought she suddenly looked more feminine than usual. Her tunic had twisted so as to emphasize her waist, and her expression held a hint of vulnerability and a soft smile that made a curious counterpoint to the boyish cut of her hair and clothing. Overall it was slightly confusing, and Feral had no idea how to respond.
“Wot is this thing?” Blue asked, and Tallow turned towards him, much to Feral’s relief. “Ain’t a wolf, is it?”
Tallow knelt down next to the larger of the two corpses and examined it with apparent interest, prodding at the lumpy body.
“Just a dog, I think,” she concluded. “It’s got a collar!”
“This is someone’s pet?” the sciurel raised an eyebrow. “Better ‘ope the owner ain’t around...” he notched another arrow to his bow, glancing around the dark canyon.
As she pulled the collar off the headless neck, slippery with dark blood, Tallow paused. Frowning, she dug into a pocket and produced a thin piece of metal, prodding it into the bloody flesh.
“Uh, Tee?” Cassanya peered down over her friend’s shoulder. “What are you...?”
“Look at this,” Tallow held the metal probe up, and the leonin recoiled in disgust. It looked like the back end of a large slug. Grey, slimy, and covered with the dog’s blood, it dripped unpleasantly. “This was against its spine,” Tallow said, frowning. “I need light.”
“On it,” Blue swung his pack off his back, producing torch wood, oil, and flint. A few moments later, he was holding the burning torch up to illuminate Tallow’s find, which now rested on a white handkerchief.
“This is only half...” Tallow said, looking towards the severed head. She stood and moved over. “Borrow your dagger?” she held a hand out to Blue as he followed her. Feral put his hand over his mouth as he watched the apprentice set to work on the back of the dog’s head, a wash of blood draining into the grass, shining wetly in the flickering torchlight. Swallowing a surge of nausea, he turned away, shaking, wishing it weren’t so dark in every other direction. It was oppressive and uncomfortable.
“Hey,” Cassanya nudged him gently, her hand against his back. “You can’t tell me you’re thinking about fainting now,” she smiled as he looked up at her. Or maybe you can, she thought, noticing his face was exceedingly pale, a startling contrast to his rich russet hair. How strange, the tall leonin mused, that one minute he could display a bravery beyond both his years and his size, and the next be so disconcerted by something as harmless as a dead animal and a bit of blood.
“Come on, let’s go over here and have a bit of a sit down, eh?” Putting her hand on his elbow she led him away from the makeshift autopsy.
“Does she have to do that?” Feral asked, wincing as an unpleasant cracking of bone reached him, his ears flattening back.
“I see her point, yes,” Cassanya nodded, sitting the half-race down on a boulder, facing away from the activity behind him. “If there’s more of those things around, it’d be well to know more about them.” She sat down next to him, putting her arm around his slim shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
“I doubt there’s more,” Balthor shook his head, standing beside them, his eyes nonetheless scanning the near darkness around them for movement. “Dogs like to stay in packs. If there’s only two attacked us, it’s likely they’re the only ones around.”
“Good,” Feral sighed shakily.
“Unless there’s a mother with cubs somewhere nearby...” the lupari frowned thoughtfully, and Feral looked up at him. “But probably not,” Balthor said quickly, seeing his friend’s pale expression in the twilight. “Hungry?” he asked, producing a stick of jerky. A squelch sounded from somewhere behind Feral, and the lupari paused. “No, me neither.”
It was several minutes before Tallow and Blue joined them again, the apprentice carrying a bloody grey lump in her handkerchief. Feral couldn’t help shrinking back against Cassanya as Tallow held it out for their inspection, and he felt the leonin’s arm tighten about him. The loathsomely grey creature oozed up at them. About six inches in length, slug like, and lacking any sign of eyes, it had a number of thin tentacles and feelers along its presumably blind body.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Tallow said quietly. “It’s like some kind of parasite. All these tendrils,” she prodded a mass of slimy fibres that seemed to come from the underside of the worm like creature. “Were wrapped around that poor dog’s spine. These,” she nudged thicker projections that looked like antennae. “Went right into the back of its brain.”
“Meaning what?” Cassanya looked at the grey creature, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
“I’m not sure,” Tallow shook her head. “But I wouldn’t see any point in a creature that just attached itself where this one did unless...”
“Unless?” the leonin prodded.
“Unless it was using the host for more than just a place to live.”
Swallowing, Feral peered at the slimy creature. “It takes over their bodies?” he suggested.
“It might explain why they attacked us without warning. Maybe the deformity is a result of having one of these things... attached.”
“And you’ve never heard of anything like this?” Cassanya pressed. “Not even in the Sanctuary library?”
Shaking her head, Tallow looked slightly offended. “This isn’t the kind of stuff I like for my bedtime reading, Cass.” She looked up at the sun, which didn’t seem to have moved since entering the forest, still a pale and watery disk in the purple sky. “We should get moving again. We still don’t have that fragment.”
Agreeing, her companions picked up their possessions as Tallow slid the unpleasant creature, wrapped in her handkerchief, into a small leather pouch. Catching Feral looking at her, she gave an apologetic smile.
“Someone should be told, the senior magi may know more,” she said quietly, and he nodded reluctantly. “I’ll get some preservative on it when we’ve got a bit more time.”
“Just don’t ask me to carry it,” he grimaced, and she nodded, smiling kindly.
Pressing his back against a shadowy, half dead beech tree, Blue held his breath. Feral had been quite right, he had heard voices coming from this direction, and now Blue could hear them too. Swiftly and silently he ascended the knotted trunk, clambering up into the dark foliage above. Just in time too, as the flickering glow of a torch illuminated the trees at the bend in the path up ahead. It was well that the cover of the forest had increased again, the sciurel decided, else he and his companions would almost certainly have been spotted already.
Even illuminated by their own torch light, the newcomers barely stood out from the shadows around them. Each wore a thick, night black cloak that trailed the ground and obscured their shoulders. Underneath, shirt and pants of black, as if intentionally merging with the darkness. On the left shoulder of each cloak, a red symbol glowed in the torchlight, the only colour on the dark uniform.
Clinging to the top of a broad branch that leaned out over the path, Blue watched the strangers approach along the path, straining to hear what was being said.
“Damn forest,” the man on the left muttered. He looked to be in his mid thirties, his face drawn and troubled, several days of unshaven stubble on his chin. Watery blue eyes darted fearfully from shadow to shadow among the trees.
His companion, a heavyset leonin, laughed harshly, feline eyes glittering in the flickering light. “Naught but shadows,” he declared. “What’s to fear in a shadow?”
“Besides those bloody dogs?” the man looked up at his tall companion.
The leonin snorted. “Stupid slobbering things, dunno why we’ve gotta have them.”
“I do,” the man shivered visibly. “It’s to see whether they can tell friend from foe.”
“I don’t care if they can, I’d be rid of ‘em if it were my choice,” the tall feline paused, peering into a shadow between two trees on the far side of the path.
“Don’t say things like that,” his friend hissed, stopping directly underneath Blue’s branch. “You’ll get us in a right heap of trouble if you go slagging off the First’s orders.”
“You worry too much,” the leonin said as he satisfied himself the shadows were only shadows. “Nobody gonna hear me out here but the birds in the trees.”
“What birds?” the man asked suspiciously.
“Oh just shut up and let’s get moving. Don’t see a need to patrol anyway, who’s gonna be creeping around here?”
“Ain’t our place to ask,” the man resumed walking, following the large leonin. “And I don’t care to either. Just do what we’re told, let the others get on with finding that staff thing, and get out of here to a decent sleep and a fat reward, eh?”
The big feline snorted again, evidently less than satisfied with this, but said no more. The two swiftly vanished into the shadows at the far end of the path.
Watching carefully from the branch, Blue slowly relaxed, allowing himself to breathe freely again.
“Well now,” he murmured under his breath. “That were interestin’, weren’t it?” Quietly, he descended from the tree, and made his stealthy way back to his companions.
As Blue had predicted, nobody was happy to hear they had company.
“How many?” Cassanya had asked, to which he could only say he didn’t know. In the absence of information about numbers, Tallow had suggested that they turn back for help, but as Feral rightly pointed out, by the time they had found any, the fragment would most likely have left the area in the hands of the enemy. There seemed little to be done but press on.
Quietly.
Around them, the forest had become dark as a moonlit night, but they didn’t dare light torches for fear of discovery. Instead, they moved onwards in near darkness, following the canyon, senses alert for any sign of company.
It was Cassanya who first saw the first sign of the magefort proper, her feline sight cutting through the darkness, her glittering eyes roving across the shadows. As the gorge seemed to be spreading out a little, a dark shape rose against the near side. Grey stone caught the feeble light, an aged, mossy tower rising towards the dark sky.
“The gatehouse,” Tallow whispered. “But it’s terribly run down, there should be an arch clear to the other tower.”
“What other tower?” Feral asked, looking towards the other side of the canyon. Nothing rose above the treetops all the way to the black, rocky wall.
“Well there was one once,” the apprentice sounded apologetic. “I don’t know what could have happened... this one’s none too well off, either,” she added, looking up at the dark edifice. Several stones appeared to be missing from the tower’s looming walls, now lying half buried in the dirt below, overgrown with moss and lichen. Black windows peered blindly into the surrounding darkness. “Cass, if we can get up there, can you see to the ground?”
The leonin inclined her head upwards. “Maybe,” she said. “But it’s pretty dark, even for me.”
The entrance to the tower proved to be intact – a little too intact. The shadowy doorway contained a rotten looking door. Balthor pushed experimentally on it, hoping not to create too much noise. With a dull crack, it gave way, and they soon gained entrance to the dark interior.
As they entered, Feral found himself standing rather closer to Cassanya than he quite meant to. It had been dark outside, but now the only light that did get in came through the few small windows high above, casting a darkness so deep that he couldn’t see the floor under him. Here and there, he could make out an edge, or a corner, but no more. Far too dark.
“Are you sure we can’t light a torch?” he asked.
He thought he saw Tallow shake her head. “We can’t, in this darkness it’ll shine like a beacon and bring them right to us.”
“If I thought they’d bring the fragment of the staff with them, I’d chance it,” Feral said. It was stupid, and he knew it, but it was also true. Anything that got some light would be a good thing, in his opinion.
“There’s stairs in that corner,” Cassanya said quietly. “Let’s go, Tee. Can the rest of you wait here?”
Feral couldn’t even see the stairs, so he felt he had little choice but to agree. He watched Cassanya’s dark form move towards Tallow, laying her hand on the apprentice’s shoulder, guiding her through the darkness.
“Gotta admit,” Blue sighed. “I wish I had eyes like that.”
Feral nodded in agreement as he heard their two friends slowly climbing the wooden stairs, ascending what sounded like a spiral staircase, their footsteps circling overhead. He shivered as a cold breeze came in through the open door, pulling his cloak tighter around them, and hoping they wouldn’t take too long.
“Careful, there’s a step missing,” Cassanya said, keeping a firm hold of Tallow’s hand as they ascended the ancient staircase.
“Where?” Tallow hissed, looking at the blackness underneath her feet.
“Next one. Foot up and forward, there, you’re clear.”
Tallow sighed, a little shakily. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I can’t see a damn thing!”
Cassanya chuckled quietly. “Don’t worry about it, we only need one eye that works, and I have two.”
“I’m not even going to speculate about ways of sharing them.”
“Probably for the best. Another missing one. Two, even.”
Tallow swore softly, then gave a quiet and quickly stifled scream as Cassanya picked her up, stepping over the large gap.
“Sorry, seemed easiest,” the leonin said, continuing up the dark staircase, easily carrying her friend’s relatively slight weight.
“I’ll second that,” Tallow giggled, putting her arms around Cassanya’s neck, suddenly feeling far more secure.
By comparison with the dark stairwell, the outside of the tower seemed positively bright and sunny. Tallow gave a small sigh of relief as she was set down on the stonework of the lookout balcony.
“Why have a tower down here?” Cassanya asked, realising that they were still below the top of the canyon, the dark rock continuing for another six feet above them.
“It does seem odd,” Tallow agreed. “You’d think they’d at least get it above ground level... oh...” she trailed off, looking out towards the canyon floor ahead of them.
It was dark still, but there was just enough light to make out a scattering of buildings along the bottom of the gorge. Some were small, hardly bigger than houses. Others were larger, running a hundred or more feet in length, and two or three floors high. All were crafted out of the same grey stone as the watchtower they stood on, cut from the enduring rock by skilled hands whose work still stood hundreds of years later.
For the most part. Despite the differences in shape and size, all the buildings had one thing in common. They were all broken. Walls displayed gaping black holes, roofs were crumbling, bare timbers poking up like boney fingers clawing at the purple sky. Trees grew up between and sometimes even through the shattered buildings, dark branches joining the rotting timbers in their quest to reach the heavens.
“How can trees grow in the dark?” Cassanya asked, finally realising what had seemed most wrong about the entire forest.
“It might not be dark for the trees,” Tallow said absently, leaning on the stone wall of the balcony and looking out along the dark canyon. “Oh my, Cass, look!” she pointed, and the leonin followed the gesture towards a large building on the far side of the ravine. It looked like it was made of white stone, perhaps marble, because it showed up clearly against the darkness of the rock face behind it, a silhouette in reverse. It was clearly something special.
“The library...” Tallow breathed, and Cassanya felt a twinge of disappointment. “I have to check it out!”
Cassanya frowned at her. “Why?” she asked. “Won’t it be empty?”
“I don’t know,” Tallow admitted. “But I don’t think this place was intentionally abandoned. It may be that nobody has come back here since... well, whatever it was. If that library is still stocked, it could have loads of useful information.”
“Like what?” Used to her friend’s enthusiasm for collecting random data, the leonin had long since learned to insist on knowing what they were trying to find out before making any arrangements.
“Something about dragons, for one,” Tallow said. “This place was in use before and during the dragon war, there might be something we can use against them.”
“Maybe...” Cassanya said thoughtfully. “But we need that fragment of the staff more. Where would that be?”
“If it’s here, it’s not on purpose,” Tallow said. “This place was abandoned before the end of the war, and the staff hadn’t been broken yet.”
“So it could be anywhere?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“That makes two problems, then.”
“What’s the other?”
“There’s a campfire over that way,” Cassanya pointed. “And I think someone with a torch is in that building over there.”
It wasn’t news that Feral wanted to hear. He could, he felt, have coped with searching this dark and creepy broken down town. He could, he also felt, have managed to avoid detection by the other search party that was looking for the fragment of the staff. Put together however, he felt that it was a bit more than he was quite ready for.
What he said however, was, “So how do we start?” and then wondered why he had done so as everyone looked at him. “Well, we still have to find the fragment, don’t we?” he added uncertainly.
“Actually, I had a bit of an idea about that,” Tallow said, looking unexpectedly cheerful under the circumstances. “Cass, do you still have that pointer charm?”
“Of course,” the leonin dug in a pocket. “I figured it was still useful if Feral... if we ever got separated,” she smiled at the half-race, looking slightly embarrassed, but Feral didn’t mind. It was nice to know that Cassanya was looking out for him, and he felt as if the oppressive darkness lifted a little.
“Which way it is pointing?” Tallow asked as Cassanya held the small metal disk in her hand. The leonin frowned, and Tallow repeated the question. Cassanya tapped the pointer with her finger a few times, still glowering at it.
“That way,” she gestured somewhere to the left of the dark watchtower, indicating a direction that didn’t even come close to Feral. “Now that way,” she moved her arm left. “That way again! Stupid thing,” she tapped it again, and looked about to shake it when Tallow stopped her, taking the metal disk and looking at it closely.
“What’s wrong with it?” Feral asked.
“Nothing, I think,” Tallow told him. “The Dragon Staff is a tremendously powerful artefact – it’s not something you want to leave just lying around unshielded. Not if you expect other spells to work right nearby.”
“It’s pointing the way to the fragment?” Feral’s ears rose visibly in excitement.
“If you call this pointing the way,” Tallow showed him the arrow as it oscillated over an arc of about an eighth of the dial. “It might not even be that way, maybe it’s thrown the charm off completely...”
“But it’s a start,” Feral nodded, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “It’s worth hoping.”
“Best get movin’ then,” Blue suggested. “Might be lucky and that lot ain’t found it yet.”
“So what if they have?” Balthor rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“We don’t need a fight,” Cassanya reminded him.
“We may not get a choice. Better to be ready to do what’s needed. ‘Sides,” he chuckled and patted Feral on the shoulder. “We do have a secret weapon.”
“We do?” Feral asked, then realised the lupari meant him. “Oh...”
Cassanya didn’t look happy, but apparently couldn’t think of a suitable response, because she sighed, muttered something about, “Going to kill me if he gets hurt,” and started back towards the shadowy path that would lead them into the depths of the magefort.
“You go,” Tallow said, hanging back as the others moved to follow. “I need to visit the library.”
“Tee,” Cassanya sighed, rubbing her temple and looking thoroughly irritated. “This isn’t the average road trip, I don’t think we have time...”
“I need to,” the apprentice repeated icily, somehow managing to look quite dangerous, her feet planted firmly on the spot, her staff gripped tight in both hands. Perched on her shoulder, Woodward fluttered his wings supportively. It was quite clear that neither of them were going to back down on the matter.
It was, Feral kept reminding himself as he huddled in the darkness under a patch of thick bushes, only logical to split up. Tallow did have a point that the library might contain useful information, and from what she had said it seemed likely that it might just be of as much use as the fragment of the Dragon Staff. After all, who could say what the ancient magi had known about dealing with dragons? Perhaps there was even knowledge relating to how the staff had been created. Maybe they could even make another with the information Tallow found in those books.
It was this reasoning that had led him to support Tallow’s decision, an action that had earned him the worst glare Cassanya had ever directed at him. It had been a tough thing not to change his mind on the spot, but he had held firm, and faced with both his and Tallow’s insistence that it was the smart thing to do, the tall feline had finally agreed. Then Feral had suggested that Cassanya should go with Tallow, due to her eyesight being more suited for reading in the dark, and she had given him one of those glares again. Still, the end result had been as desired, and Tallow and Cassanya had headed off towards the library, the logical choice for that particular mission.
Quite whether he, Blue, and Balthor were the logical choices for their mission was something Feral hadn’t decided yet. It was probable that they stood less chance of detection than with all of them bunched together. And, too, it seemed to be working. The four people in dark cloaks did not seem to have noticed him as they walked past, two of them holding torches above their heads.
“Blasted map’s wrong!” one of them said roughly. “Where’s the damn gateway then?”
Feral wished the cloaked lutrani hadn’t stopped right in front of his bush. His heart seemed to be beating loudly enough to be heard by all four of the strangers.
“That way,” the shortest of the four directed, pointing with difficulty around the spade, pick axe, hammer and chisel he had clasped in his arms. The muscai’s cloak trailed the ground, as if nobody had thought to cut it for his small frame.
“Shut up!” the lutrani snapped. “I didn’t ask you! Get moving.” Nonetheless, he turned and headed in the direction indicated, the muscai hurrying after him as the other two exchanged amused glances.
“Phew,” Blue exhaled as the dark strangers left. “Thought they’d see us for sure then.”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Feral said, standing slowly, looking the way the others had left.
“Why are we hiding from them, anyway?” Balthor grumbled, brushing dead leaves off the front of his vest. “We could’ve taken them easy, you know. Be easier to do this with them tied up quiet somewhere.”
He was probably right, Feral thought, but... “We don’t know how many more of them there are, or what they might have at their disposal. I could do without meeting another dragon.” A chill memory swept down his spine, making him shiver.
Balthor paused, then nodded reluctantly.
“Which way?” Blue asked as Feral lifted the pointer charm.
“There, maybe,” the half-race inclined his head towards a towering black edifice some fifty yards away. Long, and tall, it had a turret at each end, the grey slate roof shining wetly in the light mist that had started to form, the strange twilight turning the reflection the colour of drying blood. “Hard to tell though,” he eyed the wobbling arrow dubiously as it rocked on its mount. The building was only about half of the arc. “Guess we should check it out anyway.”
Yes, Feral reminded himself again, looking up at the dark arching doorway as it loomed over him. Splitting up was the faster search method, and it was logical to search as quickly as possible. The knowledge didn’t stop him missing Cassanya’s presence just a little though. There was after all, something comforting about seven feet of friendly feline, especially when the surroundings were cold, dark, and creepy.
The grey stone arch showed only occasional highlights in the feeble glow of what was theoretically the sun. Feral wasn’t quite convinced anymore, since it was now dimmer than the moon, so dulled that it seemed slightly mottled, far from the uniform, fiery yellow that he was used to. There seemed to be a couple of dark dots somewhere to the upper right of it’s disk, but he wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything.
“You all right, mate?” Balthor rested his hand on Feral’s shoulder, making him jump. “Look a bit out of it.”
“Fine,” he nodded quickly, not wanted to give any impression that he wasn’t. Stupid creepy place, distracting him and making him jumpy. To emphasise the point that nothing was wrong, he shoved the door forcefully. It swung open with mercifully little noise, a kindness that wasn’t really deserved. A breath of icy air washing outwards, ruffling Feral’s hair and flattening his ears back against his head. He shivered convulsively, turning his face away from that chill breath.
“Gonna need a torch then,” Blue said, peering into the chilly darkness ahead, and Feral sighed with relief. “Got yer tinderbox, Red?” the sciurel asked, digging in his pack and producing a wooden torch and a jar of oil.
Feral had, and in moments Blue had vanished into the darkness ahead of them.
“Uh...”
“Well come in and shut the door!” Blue barked at him as he hesitated. “Can’t light up outside now can I?”
It was a fair point, but it didn’t help Feral’s feet any. It seemed they much preferred being outside in what passed for the daylight and really didn’t want to move into that cold darkness ahead of him.
“Red?” he heard Blue’s voice from the darkness ahead. “Tis all right, guv, come on.”
Feral felt Balthor standing beside him, and took a deep breath. The lupari’s hand gave his shoulder a squeeze, and he took a step forwards. It was seriously cold inside, he discovered. His breath would almost certainly be steaming in front of him, if only he could see it. Of course he couldn’t, which really wasn’t making him feel any better. Then Balthor pushed the door shut behind him, and it went really dark.
Completely, utterly, pitch dark.
Waiting.
In the dark.
“Do we get that damn torch?” Feral snapped, more harshly than he quite meant to.
A flare, a wash of light, and there it was. He sighed in relief.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, not looking at Balthor who he was fairly sure was watching him with a degree of concern.
The flickering light shone upon a long, slender hallway that ran out ahead of the doorway. At the far end, a broken window reflected the torchlight in glittering shards. Despite the broken pane, there was no sign of the sky outside, as if the window was draped in black velvet. It was a less than welcome reminder of the enchanted nature of their location, and Feral tried not to dwell on it.
Three doors with barred windows were set into one long wall. The other side of the room had no wall. Instead, the floor fell away, leaving the chamber much deeper than it would otherwise have been. At the far side, a flight of spiral steps lead down to the lower level, as well as up to the floor above.
Blue peered through one of the barred doorways, holding his torch up to illuminate the room beyond.
“Empty,” he said. “Few rags and a bowl... Keeping people here?” he frowned.
“Better hope not,” Feral tried to prevent his teeth chattering. Why was it so cold? “Tee wouldn’t like it.”
“But I wouldn’t put it past them,” Balthor remarked, peering into the second cell and finding it as empty as the first. “From what I know, they’ll let you study anything you like.”
“Up or down?” Blue asked as they approached the spiral staircase.
Feral leaned on the railing by the staircase. At his feet, the floor fell away into a great, light-less chamber whose bottom wasn’t reached by the torch light. A chill breeze seemed to be stirring, an icy breath down the back of his neck. The pointer charm didn’t seem to have any suggestions, simply swinging uncertainly on its pivot.
“Down,” he grimaced. “Let’s get it over with.” He was really, he decided, really starting to hate dark places below ground level. It didn’t help, he thought, looking at the dark window, that not a spark of light came in from outside. He hoped that the darkness would lift once they left the building, swallowing nervously as the question of what to do if it didn’t crossed his mind.
The half-race gasped as he put his hand on the stair rail, pulling it back quickly and blowing on his chilled fingers. Looking at it more closely, he realised that it was covered in a thin layer of clear ice. The steps, thankfully, weren’t quite so bad, and they were able to make their way down to the lower level with only a couple of wobbles.
As they stepped onto the floor, Feral was sure he heard a slight noise in the darkness ahead.
“Prob’ly cockroaches or rats, or summit like,” Blue said.
Feral nodded, trying to ignore the cold knot of that had settled into the pit of his stomach. Gritting his teeth, refusing to let his companions see how he felt, he stepped forwards into the darkness, Blue following him to light his path. A table emerged from the darkness, two chairs on either side. Atop the table, a roll of leather and dust. Blue lifted it and it cracked, splitting apart in his fingers.
“Scroll case,” he said. “Maybe they were keeping books an’ stuff down ‘ere?”
“Might be worth seeing what we can find for Tee...” Looking around in the flickering gloom, Feral spied what looked light it could be a set of shelves against the wall, he made for it, his shadow leaping in front of him as Blue followed.
They looked at the shelves, Feral clenching his hands in his pockets against the unwholesome chill. No books were in evidence, but there were numerous jars, mostly broken, the wood stained where something had leaked out. One was full of some kind of liquid, a dark mass floating in the centre. He leaned forwards, trying to make out what it was, finding himself strangely drawn to it as Blue lifted the torch, standing on tiptoes to get a better view of the top shelf.
The dark blob twitched.
Feral swore and jumped backwards, straightening so suddenly that he knocked Blue’s arm. The flame left an arc of light in the air as it was jolted out of the sciurel’s grip, falling as if in slow motion to land on the floor even as Feral toppled backwards himself, hitting the stone with a yelp. The torch sputtered for a moment, then went out.
The small skittering noise sounded again from somewhere to Feral’s left, even as he heard his companions make exclamations of dismay. Backing up, he tried to orient himself, but tripped over something behind him. He was sure he could hear the noise again, closer this time, but now on his right.
“Get away!” he shouted, his hand instinctively searching for something on the floor behind him, hoping to find anything that might generate light. Oh for one of Fellirion’s lightglobes!
“Red? Where are ya? What’s up?” Blue’s voice echoed in the blackness.
Feral’s hand encountered something on the floor, and he gripped it. Fairly smooth, thin but long, a slightly rough bulge at one end... he shouted and recoiled in recognition just as the torch flared again, throwing himself across the floor, rolling and staring back at where he had been in horror.
On the stone floor were markings, a complex concentric pattern carved into the rock, and in the centre...
Bones.
Arranged in roughly the shape of a skeleton, there was something not quite right about the outline. The lower legs and forearms seemed disproportionately long, the skull stretched and distorted. Around each wrist and ankle, heavy iron rings, chains running to eyebolts embedded in the floor. The fleshless mouth smiled a lopsided rictus grin into the darkness that its empty eye sockets would never see.
“Feral? Feral, mate, it’s all right,” Balthor leaned over Feral as the he stared at the skeleton.
“What... the... hell... is... that?” Feral gasped, his breaths shallow and fast. So now it was dark, freezing, and there was a dead body on the floor in front of him. He felt like the dark ceiling was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe.
“Mate?” Balthor put his hand on his friend’s slim shoulder, feeling him jump at the contact. “It’s all right,” the lupari repeated, looking at him closely.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Feral heard himself say, aware of but quite unable to prevent the rising note of hysteria in his voice. “All good rooms... should be like this. After all... what’s a home without pitch dark... freezing cold... a few scuttling things and... and a corpse or two. Just for that nice... nice homely... touch...” he panted. It really was getting hard to breathe.
“Red... relax, guv,” Blue brought the torch closer. “Tis just a few bones, it ain’t going nowhere, it ain’t gonna do no ‘arm. An’ I got the cockroach,” he said, lifting his leg to show the squashed remains on the sole of his boot.
“Good... good, that’s... good...” Feral panted softly as the sciurel knelt down next to him.
“Red?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember the river on the way ‘ere?”
“What?”
“D’you remember the river?”
Not understanding, the half-race nodded, his eyes still on the misshapen bones on the edge of the light from the torch. Balthor had moved over to them, and was prodding them with his boot, looking curious.
“Good,” Blue nodded. “D’you remember ‘ow the sun sparkled on the water? The way the grass on the banks waved in the wind?”
Feral nodded.
“’Ow about the way it smelled?” Blue took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, as, unintentionally, did Feral. “I love the smell of water like that,” Blue went on. “Clean, an’ crisp, an’ full of life. All the plants and trees on the banks addin’ to it, all mixin’ together just right so that when the wind brings it to you, tis like it washes over you, like liquid green.”
Feral closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath, momentarily lost in the memory, almost able to smell the water flowers once more.
“Good, guv, that’s good,” Blue said quietly, patting Feral on the shoulder. “You just remember that for a bit, all right?”
Nodding, Feral felt calmness steal over him, soothing the panic that had been gnawing at him. It wasn’t so bad, he realised. It was cold, and dark, but that was all. There was plenty of space, there was nothing beyond a few small insects out there in the shadows... certainly nothing that would hurt him.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
The sciurel smiled. “Sure thing,” he said. “Now get up before you freeze to the floor.” Standing, Blue put a hand under Feral’s arm as Balthor returned to do the same on the other side, and together they hoisted the half-race to his feet.
“Not a one for dark places, then?” Blue asked, and Feral shook his head.
“When... when we were back in the mines... when the roof collapsed, it threw me down into another tunnel. I wasn’t hurt, but... there was no light. Nothing. I had to... to find my way out blind. Must have been an hour, maybe two. All the way I was thinking that there might not be an exit, or if there was I knew... knew that if I was going the wrong way, I was going to be down there, in the dark, until I died,” Feral said, shivering.
Blue hesitated. “Yeah, Red. That’ll do it all right,” he said softly. “Why don’t you ‘old the torch?” he offered the handle to Feral, and he took it gratefully.
“What was it made you jump?” Balthor peered at the shelves.
Feral felt himself blush. “The light... flickered,” he said. “For a moment, I thought... thought that thing moved. I guess I kinda reacted on instinct.”
Balthor gave a wry smile. “It happens. Sometimes it saves your life, other times... well, no harm done, eh?” He picked up the pointer charm that Feral had apparently dropped when he fell. “Still pointing that way,” he indicated the wall. “Don’t think we’re gonna have any luck down here. Why don’t we head back outside?”
It was of course, still as dark and gloomy outside as it had been when they entered the black building behind them. The mist was thickening, greying the air and blurring edges in the pale twilight. Feral looked up at the tall doorway behind them, making a note to just walk around the next one to see if the arrow was actually pointing into or past it. If there was a next one. He froze as he heard a quiet noise in the shadows to their left.
“You were right, sir,” a voice chuckled from the darkness. “Intruders it is. Should we kill ‘em?”
