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Dhan looked up in horror, expecting a Daegmon to be upon him. One of the winged beasts still flew high in the air, but he did not see the other. His growing sense of terror told him it was close. He fought against the panic and continued to back toward the cave, holding his sword up defensively though no soldiers approached.

  A hand grabbed him by his cloak and yanked him backwards into the cave. As he tumbled over backward, a huge talon sliced through the air just where his head had been seconds earlier, and a vast shadow swept down the mountain.

  Thimeon reached down and pulled him to his feet. Dhan’s heart was racing even faster with the realization of how narrowly he had escaped death. “Come quickly,” the Andani guide said. “The Daegmons cannot enter here, but the soldiers will follow as soon as their own terror passes.”

  Dhan stood confused, still feeling the terror of the winged enemies and of the near miss. “Come where?” he managed to say.

  “This cave opens up at the back,” Thimeon answered. “There’s a tunnel straight into the mountain. Lyn found it. He was speaking the truth. But we have no time to waste.”

  Dhan’s head began to clear. He looked out the mouth of the cave. The soldiers were now picking themselves up, looking around, waiting for some orders. “They’ll be sent after us,” he said as he grasped the implications of Thimeon’s words. He looked back at Thimeon “Some of us should remain and guard the mouth, or retreat slowly. Make them fearful to follow. You need to escape with the sword. Find your friends. I will stay with Jhaban.”

  Thimeon met Dhan’s gaze and seemed to ponder his words. “Perhaps, but I fear you may never find us. We don’t know where the tunnels lead, or even if they lead anywhere.” Then Thimeon’s eyes suddenly opened wide. His lips moved. Dhan spun around to see what Thimeon was looking at. More enemy soldiers had gathered at the far end of the gulley, but they were not advancing. Whether from fear of the Daegmon, or fear of Dhan and his men, or simply waiting for some new order, they stood where they were.

  “Gaelim!” Thimeon began to yell.

  Dhan looked back and forth between the soldiers outside and his companions within the cave, wondering what Thimeon had become so excited about. The Ceadani man came forward from the shadows and approached Thimeon. He said something Dhan did not understand, perhaps in his own tongue.

  “How quickly can you shape rock?”

  Gaelim stared. “Shape what rock? Into what shape?” He asked in the trade tongue.

  “The cave itself. The rock of this mountain.”

  Gaelim’s jaw fell. He looked flustered. “What?”

  “The cave!” Thimeon shouted. “Can you close up the mouth of this cave?” Behind Thimeon, several of Dhan’s companions—those who were not his officers—were already disappearing into the darkness.

  “I don’t know,” Gaelim replied. “I have never tried shaping so much rock.”

  “Try it. We must cut off pursuit.”

  Gaelim nodded. “I understand. But—but so much? So fast? I don’t know—”

  Thimeon turned toward Dhan. “Grab a bow and stay with me. Send the rest of your men after Lyn.”

  Dhan obeyed. He had no idea whether he even understood Thimeon’s plan, and if he did whether it would work—whether Gaelim had that sort of power. But he chose to trust his Andani guide. He sheathed his blade, grabbed a bow, and stood at Thimeon’s side by the cave mouth. He had only two arrows left. Thimeon had three. After they were used, they would have to draw their swords. He hoped Gaelim would be done before then.

  A mere thirty yards away, the enemy soldiers gathered. He saw no sign of any officer among them. They looked more fearful of the skies than of Dhan or Thimeon. He could have easily put an arrow into one of them as they stood there making no effort to defend themselves. It may have caused the others to back up, and perhaps made them more cautious to come down the gulley. But then he would have had only one remaining arrow. And there would be another dead soldier. He did not want to kill if he didn’t have to.

  Standing beside the prince, the stone-shaper put his hands to the wall of the cave just beside the entrance. He took a deep breath, and then he began to hum.

  The enemy soldiers backed up out of sight. Dhan did not know why. Outside all was quiet. Whether El-Phern was resting his troops or planning some new mischief, the prince did not know. Gaelim’s continued his soft humming. Still nothing moved outside. Thimeon stepped back from the cave mouth, but kept his bow in hand. Several more seconds passed. Then Dhan began to notice the change. At first it looked like the rock around the entrance was growing hazy and unclear: like the edges of a wispy cloud. Then the rock began to drip as if snow was melting down from above. Except the drips were solid.

  Dhan watched in amazement as a column of rock began to form at the top of the cave and grow downward. Within seconds the column was several inches long. Gaelim hummed and worked on. In two minutes the rock was halfway to the floor.

  Somebody shouted and Dhan jumped. The shout came from inside the cave. Had the enemy found some way to attack—some other entrance? Dhan turned to see Gaelim lying on his back on the floor of the cave, his face white. Thimeon rushed to his side. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Gaelim answered. “Something in the rock. Something greater than I am.”

  “The Daegmon?” Thimeon guessed. “Was it blocking your work?”

  “No,” Gaelim said. “It was not evil. It was like—I don’t know. Some power. Not the mountain itself, but something that dwells here. I—I don’t know how to say it. I felt a sense of holiness and silence and tremendous weight. I felt—I felt naked.”

  Thimeon stared at Gaelim, looking as uncertain as Dhan felt. Gaelim spoke again. “I cannot continue. I must not. I don’t have the authority to shape it. At first I worked against this feeling, but it kept getting stronger. When I continued to ignore it, it struck.”

  Thimeon took a deep breath and nodded. “Then it is best for you not to continue. Go. Catch the others.” He turned toward Dhan. “I’m sorry. My plan failed. And I cannot leave you here alone now. How long until they follow us?”

  Dhan tried to think what he would do in his enemy’s place—what El-Phern would do. “They may wait some time, either try to starve us out of the cave or search the mountain for some other entrance. But that is what I thought they would do before, and they attacked much sooner than I expected. If they guess we are no longer guarding the entrance, and are trying to escape into the mountain, they will certainly pursue.”

  Dhan knew what Thimeon was thinking. He would not leave Dhan alone unless he had no other choice. “You go alone,” he said. “I will give them reason to fear advancing. Leave me all the arrows. When I have run out, I will go back to where the cave is narrow. I will defend it alone only long enough to delay pursuit.”

  Still Thimeon did not depart. He was fingering the pouch around his chest. The pouch where he kept the ancient book. “The risk is too great—” he began.

  Thimeon never finished the sentence. A low rumbling filled the air and the cave began to shake. Dirt and rocks fell from the ceiling. Dhan lost his balance and stumbled toward Thimeon who was reaching toward the cave wall to catch himself. The low rumble grew to a roar. The whole mountainside was shaking. Dhan spun and looked out the mouth of the cave. Snow and rocks were pouring down over the cave mouth.

  We’ll be trapped! Dhan thought. Even as he thought this, a huge pile of snow and dirt and rock rushed down over the entrance to the cave in a thunder of dust, debris and noise. The light grew suddenly dim as more snow and ice piled up. Dhan felt Thimeon pulling on his arm. Then both of them fell over. They half stumbled, half crawled away from the choking dust toward the deeper darkness at the back of the cave.

  Half a minute passed. The rumbling subsided and then stopped altogether, but Dhan’s ears continued to ring for several more seconds. He lifted his head. It was black and he had lost all sense o
f direction. He coughed a throat full of dust. “Thimeon?” he called.

  “Over here,” came an answer from nearby.

  Dhan blinked, and looked again in the direction where he thought the voice had come from but the echoes made it hard to tell. He saw a faint crack of light filtering through air thick with dust. That must be the cave mouth. Or what was left of it.

  He heard shuffling of feet on rocks and felt a hand on his shoulder—felt as much as saw the darker shadow where Thimeon now stood beside him. “Well I suppose this will slow our pursuers for a while,” Thimeon said.

  And it may kill us, Dhan thought. He kept that thought to himself. He looked around by his feet for his pack, but he could see almost nothing. They needed light. He had left his pack on the floor of the cave closer to the cave mouth. “My pack,” he said. “Torches.” He inched forward feeling with his hands and feet, back toward the sliver of light. It took him a minute to find his pack covered in a layer of dirt. He was fumbling around for a torch when he heard the striking of flint.

  A light flickered and grew. Thimeon stood fifteen feet away holding his own pack and a torch. “Come,” Thimeon said. “Let us hope the way deeper is not also blocked.”

  Dhan slung has pack over his shoulder along with his bow. He made sure his sword was still in its sheath, and then went toward Thimeon and the light. Together they started into the mountains. Fifty yards ahead they came to a narrow gap in the far corner of the cave, just wide enough for a large man to squeeze through. Thimeon stepped through. Dhan followed right behind him.

  On the other side of the crack the cave opened up again into a natural tunnel about ten feet wide and eight feet high. The difference was dramatic. The outer cave had been of gray rock packed here and there with hard brown dirt. Here the wall around them was solid black rock that shone in the torchlight. Dhan didn’t have time to look around him, however. Thimeon set off at once at a quick gait.

  The tunnel rose at a gentle but steady pace, heading straight back into the mountain. Fortunately there was only one direction to go with no side passages. And the floor of the tunnel, though it looked natural, was relatively even. Thimeon was almost jogging, obviously eager to catch up with the others. They had walked only a minute when they found Gaelim, who was feeling his way along one wall in the darkness. He was glad to see Dhan and Thimeon. “What was the shaking? An earthquake?” he asked.

  “We don’t know,” Thimeon replied. “But the tunnel mouth is sealed over now. Nobody will pursue us for many hours or days.”

  “I was afraid,” Gaelim said. “I think the mountain was angry at me.”

  “Or it was helping us,” Thimeon replied.

  “I need water,” Gaelim said. “I don’t have any more.”

  Dhan checked his pack. His skin was still half full. He shared it with Gaelim and Thimeon. Then they continued on, following the black tunnel inward and slowly upwards at a fast stride. They continued for about fifteen minutes. None of them spoke. Dhan was breathing hard.

  Then he thought he saw a light up ahead. Thimeon picked up his pace. Another two minutes and the reflected light became the point of a torch. Almost at once it disappeared around a corner. They continued after it. Each time it reappeared they were a little closer and saw it for longer. Five minutes later they came around a corner and saw the rest of the company ahead of them.

  Dhan and his companions shared several hugs as they reunited.

  “I’m sorry,” Jhaban said. His eyes were moist with tears. “I couldn’t get to him on time.”

  Once again Dhan felt the sadness at the loss of Rhaan. He put a comforting hand on Jhaban. “You did all you could. It was not your fault.”

  “What was the rumbling?” Several of them asked. “What happened out there.”

  Once again Thimeon explained that there had been some sort of earthquake or avalanche that had sealed the mouth of the tunnel after Gaelim’s failed attempt. “I don’t know the extent of it,” he concluded, “but it could be hours or even days before El-Phern’s men are able to dig their way in.”

  “If there was a real avalanche,” said Cathwain, “you won’t see any of them again. On that steep hillside, they’d have all been buried.”

  Banthros was skeptical. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t be surprised if El-Phern found a way to stay alive, and if he did he’ll keep after us. We should keep moving.”

  “In any case,” Dhan said, “we can consider this as good news.”

  “As long as we can find another way out before we starve,” Siyen said.

  Nobody replied. The words of Banthros and Siyen seemed to have sobered them all. Soon Thimeon took the lead and they started moving again. The tunnel continued to climb slowly. Though the bends back and forth made it difficult for Dhan to be sure, it still seemed to lead straight back into the mountain. It remained wide enough to walk two abreast, and high enough for the tallest of them to stand upright with bows over their shoulders without fear of scraping the ceiling.

  As they walked, Kachtin and Banthros kept pausing and looking at the walls, or pointing at them, and speaking quietly with one another in their strange Anghare tongue. “What is it?” Dhan asked.

  “I grew up in mines,’ Banthros replied. “But I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Like what?” Dhan asked.

  “The rock. It looks black from a distance, but it isn’t dark. Look at how much light it reflects. Two torches are enough to illuminate this whole tunnel for us. I’d bet only one would be enough.”

  Dhan hadn’t noticed this until Banthros pointed it out. But his thoughts soon drifted back to the battle, to Rhaan’s death, and to their uncertain future. They hiked for about two hours with little conversation except an occasional whisper. When Thimeon stopped, Dhan almost walked into him. A spring trickled down from a crack in the wall, pooling up in a hollow on the floor, and overflowing into a crack where it disappeared.

  Seeing it made Dhan realize how thirsty he was. “Can we drink it?” Dhan asked.

  “We might not have much choice,” came the voice of the duke from behind him. “I have no water left.”

  Thimeon knelt beside the water and smelled it. He handed his torch to Dhan, cupped his hands, and scooped some water. He sniffed again and then took a drink. His eyes opened in surprise. He immediately scooped another drink, and then a third before he stepped back and took the torch back from Dhan. “Drink,” he said. “Everybody. And fill up your skins if you still have them.”

  Dhan, who was standing right by the pool, knelt next. Though he expected the water to be cold, he wasn’t sure how fresh it would taste. The first drink surprised him. The water was somehow thick like a hearty ale, and yet clean and refreshing, without the heaviness or bitterness of ale. He didn’t know how else to say it; when he had finished his drink, he felt as though he had eaten a meal as well.

  The rest of his companions followed, taking turns drinking deep draughts. Though none of them said anything, he could see in their eyes that they had experienced the same thing. They all took a second drink and filled their skins. When they were ready to move on, Dhan felt a new energy and vitality. His fatigue was gone.

  Once again Thimeon took the lead, but now Jhonna walked beside him. Dhan followed along with the duke, and the others spread out behind. They walked for another hour before Thimeon once again stopped short. Far ahead Dhan thought he saw a faint glimmer of light. It disappeared almost as soon as Thimeon stopped. Thimeon turned and looked back at him. “Did you see that?” he asked.

  Dhan nodded. “I thought I saw a light, but it’s hard to tell what is reflecting off our own torch.”

  “Keep your sword ready,” Thimeon said. He turned to Jhonna, but she was already stepping back on her own. Dhan stepped up beside Thimeon, and they continued on.

  Another ten minutes passed. The light appeared, this time much closer. It flickered, like moonlight of
f water. Dhan motioned for the others to halt. “What is it?”

  “Burning gasses, maybe,” Thimeon replied. “Or phosphorescent rock. I have seen both before. It did not look like a torch. If it was, it was moving away from us.”

  Dhan nodded. “Shall we continue on?”

  “We have no other choice, do we? Turning around will lead us only one place.”

  Thimeon was right. It was a sobering thought. They warned the others to remain silent, and then continued on, more slowly now. Another two hundred steps brought them to a sharp bend in the tunnel.

  Walking at Thimeon’s side, Dhan came around the corner and found himself at the mouth of a large cavern. He and Thimeon both came to a halt at a high arch in the stone, while the others crowded up behind them. Looking out in the glitter of his torch, Dhan saw that the cavern had a bowl-shaped floor that made the space look like a huge underground amphitheater. Jewel’s sparkled in places along the walls, and dazzled Dhan’s eyes. Because of the strange black rock, distances were difficult to guess, but it was at least a hundred feet high and several hundred feet across.

  “Incredible,” Dhan said, as he stood gazing out from just inside the tunnel mouth.

  He stepped forward into the cavern. The moment he did, he caught sight of the other light, no longer reflecting off black walls but burning clear and bright on the far side of the cavern. He had no doubt now; it was another torch and not the reflection of their own. As he turned to warn the others, he sensed a sudden movement and ducked. Beside him, something crashed down on Thimeon’s head. Thimeon crumbled to the ground.

  30

  A FOOL’S HOPE

  At the mere mention of sleep, Elynna—who had been fighting fatigue almost since the start of the night’s journey—felt her head start to nod. She joined Hrevia and Beth under one of the Undeani skins and fell asleep at once with the roaring of water in her ears.

  A gentle nudge on her shoulder woke her some time later. She opened her eyes to see Cathros leaning over her. “Time to move,” he said.