“Do you recognize it?” Annon asked Khiara. “What does it say?”
“The script is ancient,” Khiara replied. “It is not Vaettir. I cannot read it.” Her mouth tightened into a worried frown. “I am sorry.”
Annon glanced as Erasmus, but the Preachán shook his head with mute surprise. The dread in the Druidecht’s stomach increased. They followed Nizeera deeper into the bowels of the tunnel. The torchlight hissed and spit, the pitch burning a brilliant orange.
Ahead, crumpled in a puddle of blood, lay the fallen Rike. His glassy eyes stared at them, his mouth frozen in a rictus of pain. Annon shuddered. Beyond the corpse stood a broad arch, carved into the stone in perfect symmetry. It was adorned with runes and strange symbols. The path beyond it was darker than ebony. Not even their torches penetrated it.
As they approached and carefully stepped around the body, Annon felt a presence in the blackness ahead. It felt like eyes were boring into him, unseen and hostile. He clenched his jaw, summoning his courage.
“Can either of you read the runes?” Annon asked. “The script is different than what we saw in the hall.”
Khiara looked up at the archway, studying the letters. She was silent for several moments, rubbing her lip thoughtfully. Her jet black hair glinted in the torchlight. “It says, and I translate this roughly: Beware the Ruby Goddess. The humble only may pass.”
Annon stroked his chin thoughtfully. “What is the Ruby Goddess? Do you know?”
Khiara nodded, her expression brightening with relief at being useful. “It is an ancient belief. She is the Aeduan Goddess of Vengeance. She was greatly feared. The ancient texts say she punishes mortals. It is odd to find reference to her here, when the Rikes do not believe in the old myths.”
“Remember the markers on the path leading here? This appears to be a temple built in her honor,” Annon observed. His stomach twisted with fear. “Strange indeed, coming from the Arch-Rike. Is that all? Only the warning?”
“It is,” she replied. She looked at the darkness nervously and stroked the edge of her arm with one hand. “This place feels cold.”
“It is evil,” Erasmus said. “The light does not penetrate the arch. Magic is at work. Can’t you cancel it, Annon?”
Annon shook his head. “Our torches may not be of much use to us when we cross.”
Nizeera prowled around the entryway nervously. There is magic at work beyond. Spirit magic that is aware of us. It is waiting to strike at us.
Pursing his lips, Annon stared at the cat. “How will it strike us?”
I do not know, Nizeera purred in warning. She started to hiss.
“What is it?” Erasmus asked.
“She senses something in the dark.”
“I sense it too,” Khiara said.
Annon swallowed. “We did not come all this way to turn back. We face it, whatever it is. We need to stay near each other. Erasmus, do you have more rope?”
“I used it on Lukias. I told you we should have killed him.”
Annon exhaled sharply. “The torches will not be of use to us in there. We should hold on to each other’s hands.” He noticed the brackets inset into the stone arches, enough for six. He slid his torch into one of the brackets and motioned for the others to do the same. Then he reached out for Khiara’s hand, offering his. She stared at his hand a moment and then shifted her staff.
“Hold Erasmus next and I will follow last. I want to hold my weapon in case we are attacked. This place is dreadful.”
Erasmus took Annon’s hand and Khiara took Erasmus’s. Nizeera hissed and growled, pacing fitfully. Mustering his remaining courage, Annon stepped beneath the arch.
The magic responded instantly, and he realized that there was something they had failed to do, like a password uttered or a stone pressed. As soon as the blackness enveloped him, he felt the presence of an evil being stir awake ahead of them. The spasm of fear rocked him, for he recognized the presence from the waterfall beyond Drosta’s Lair. It was the Fear Liath. There was no sunlight now to protect them. The creature moved in darkness and the place had been prepared to encounter anyone, day or night. He felt the presence in the chamber beyond, felt the fear coil inside his heart and melt his courage. As Khiara and Erasmus stepped inside, they also froze in panic.
Annon’s heart raced, thudding painfully. Sweat trickled down his cheeks and neck. He trembled, unable to move. The fear blinded him to everything. He heard Nizeera hiss in the darkness next to him.
Be still! he thought to her.
A whisper of air brushed against his face. Something hulking loomed. His mouth was dry with terror. His legs could not move. What had he done? They had trusted him and now he had led them to their death. The Fear Liath had slain all of Kiranrao’s men. Somehow the Romani leader had survived. Annon’s knees strained with pain as they shook. They were going to die. They were going to be brutally murdered, their blood soaking the stones of the cave.
“The script is ancient,” Khiara replied. “It is not Vaettir. I cannot read it.” Her mouth tightened into a worried frown. “I am sorry.”
Annon glanced as Erasmus, but the Preachán shook his head with mute surprise. The dread in the Druidecht’s stomach increased. They followed Nizeera deeper into the bowels of the tunnel. The torchlight hissed and spit, the pitch burning a brilliant orange.
Ahead, crumpled in a puddle of blood, lay the fallen Rike. His glassy eyes stared at them, his mouth frozen in a rictus of pain. Annon shuddered. Beyond the corpse stood a broad arch, carved into the stone in perfect symmetry. It was adorned with runes and strange symbols. The path beyond it was darker than ebony. Not even their torches penetrated it.
As they approached and carefully stepped around the body, Annon felt a presence in the blackness ahead. It felt like eyes were boring into him, unseen and hostile. He clenched his jaw, summoning his courage.
“Can either of you read the runes?” Annon asked. “The script is different than what we saw in the hall.”
Khiara looked up at the archway, studying the letters. She was silent for several moments, rubbing her lip thoughtfully. Her jet black hair glinted in the torchlight. “It says, and I translate this roughly: Beware the Ruby Goddess. The humble only may pass.”
Annon stroked his chin thoughtfully. “What is the Ruby Goddess? Do you know?”
Khiara nodded, her expression brightening with relief at being useful. “It is an ancient belief. She is the Aeduan Goddess of Vengeance. She was greatly feared. The ancient texts say she punishes mortals. It is odd to find reference to her here, when the Rikes do not believe in the old myths.”
“Remember the markers on the path leading here? This appears to be a temple built in her honor,” Annon observed. His stomach twisted with fear. “Strange indeed, coming from the Arch-Rike. Is that all? Only the warning?”
“It is,” she replied. She looked at the darkness nervously and stroked the edge of her arm with one hand. “This place feels cold.”
“It is evil,” Erasmus said. “The light does not penetrate the arch. Magic is at work. Can’t you cancel it, Annon?”
Annon shook his head. “Our torches may not be of much use to us when we cross.”
Nizeera prowled around the entryway nervously. There is magic at work beyond. Spirit magic that is aware of us. It is waiting to strike at us.
Pursing his lips, Annon stared at the cat. “How will it strike us?”
I do not know, Nizeera purred in warning. She started to hiss.
“What is it?” Erasmus asked.
“She senses something in the dark.”
“I sense it too,” Khiara said.
Annon swallowed. “We did not come all this way to turn back. We face it, whatever it is. We need to stay near each other. Erasmus, do you have more rope?”
“I used it on Lukias. I told you we should have killed him.”
Annon exhaled sharply. “The torches will not be of use to us in there. We should hold on to each other’s hands.” He noticed the brackets inset into the stone arches, enough for six. He slid his torch into one of the brackets and motioned for the others to do the same. Then he reached out for Khiara’s hand, offering his. She stared at his hand a moment and then shifted her staff.
“Hold Erasmus next and I will follow last. I want to hold my weapon in case we are attacked. This place is dreadful.”
Erasmus took Annon’s hand and Khiara took Erasmus’s. Nizeera hissed and growled, pacing fitfully. Mustering his remaining courage, Annon stepped beneath the arch.
The magic responded instantly, and he realized that there was something they had failed to do, like a password uttered or a stone pressed. As soon as the blackness enveloped him, he felt the presence of an evil being stir awake ahead of them. The spasm of fear rocked him, for he recognized the presence from the waterfall beyond Drosta’s Lair. It was the Fear Liath. There was no sunlight now to protect them. The creature moved in darkness and the place had been prepared to encounter anyone, day or night. He felt the presence in the chamber beyond, felt the fear coil inside his heart and melt his courage. As Khiara and Erasmus stepped inside, they also froze in panic.
Annon’s heart raced, thudding painfully. Sweat trickled down his cheeks and neck. He trembled, unable to move. The fear blinded him to everything. He heard Nizeera hiss in the darkness next to him.
Be still! he thought to her.
A whisper of air brushed against his face. Something hulking loomed. His mouth was dry with terror. His legs could not move. What had he done? They had trusted him and now he had led them to their death. The Fear Liath had slain all of Kiranrao’s men. Somehow the Romani leader had survived. Annon’s knees strained with pain as they shook. They were going to die. They were going to be brutally murdered, their blood soaking the stones of the cave.
