while ago.”
“And someone has done a lot of work to reopen it in that short time, Sergeant. That should tell you something about the importance of what is going on here.” He looked expectantly at Asea. She appeared to consider for a moment and then spoke.
“Men, more rests on you now than you can guess. Beneath us, this very night, wicked sorcerers are opening the very gates of hell. If they succeed then the forces of Darkness will sweep over us all. A horde of demons will over-run us, and then sweep down like an avalanche from these mountains and crush our homes and our loved ones. There is still time to stop them, a very short time. We must act now or there will be no escape from this place for any of us. We can go into this mine and overcome the evil which seeks to break loose here. Or we can flee and be devoured by it, as we certainly shall be if we run. I am going in. Are you with me?”
It was a short effective speech and it laid out the options with frightening clarity. Perhaps the Foragers felt the strangeness of the night more than Rik had given them credit for. “Aye,” they shouted, and he was surprised to find he was shouting with them.
“Should we make it through, I shall see each and every one of you rewarded as you deserve,” she said, which got a louder cheer. “There will be gold in it for you, and more than gold. I give you my word as one of the First.”
Rik looked at Weasel and the Barbarian. “Let’s make sure Zarahel and Bertragh get the reward they deserve,” he said.
“I am with you all the way on that,” said Weasel.
“Me too,” said the Barbarian.
Sardec moved among the men, picking out those who were to go below and those who were to remain on the surface with the wyrms in case the tribesmen returned. He was not surprised when he was picked to go below. He was surprised that the Lieutenant chose to leave some men on the surface.
He’s optimistic, thought Rik. He’s making plans as if we were going to come back. Then he realised that it was all the Lieutenant could do. He noticed that one of Lady Asea’s servants had unpacked the metal flask they had seen earlier and had it strapped to his chest. Even in the gloom Rik could sense the alien power trapped within the thing. It did indeed look like the First had something planned.
He had some preparations of his own to make, and bent over to make sure the carefully wrapped package he had purchased from Karl was still intact. He checked his pistols, particularly the one with the special and very expensive bullet.
“Time to go,” said Sergeant Hef, tapping him on the shoulder. He saw that Weasel, Leon and the Barbarian were all among those picked to go below as well. He doubted that was chance. After all, they had been below before and survived.
They joined the line of men with lighted lanterns who shuffled uneasily into the mouth of the mine. Lady Asea bent and said something to the leading ripjack. Uneasily the surviving members of the pack headed into the gloom. First Lady Asea and her servants, then Sardec and then the chosen Foragers followed the beasts down into the waiting darkness below.
“I am scared, Rik,” said Leon. He was a small silhouette in the gloom at Rik’s side.
“I don’t blame you,” said Rik. “I am terrified myself.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
The mine was even gloomier than Rik remembered. He felt like he was being watched from all around. There was a pressure in the air that had nothing to do with depth beneath the ground. He felt the weight of the mountains and the weight of something else, alien and inimical, pressing down on him.
They were a long way below the surface now. Asea led them quickly, quietly and efficiently, sending the ripjacks snuffling along first one path and then another, waiting for their return at junctions, before ordering them to range ahead once more. Her two servants accompanied her always, and seemed as much at home in the darkness as she. He wondered exactly how human they were and what their presence here portended.
They had gone off the path their original venture had followed, and moved deeper beneath the earth, winding further down with every step while the ceiling became lower and the oppressiveness of it all increased.
The mine was much larger than he had originally realised. In their previous trip they had seen but the smallest part of it. There seemed to be endless galleries and tunnels. Something had worked down here for centuries to make them so big. Exactly how old were they? These mountains had been inhabited for a long time and not just by men. He remembered the map among the documents they had sold. It seemed that it had not lied.
He heard soldiers breathing sharply and moving uneasily. There was not enough room in here to swing a bayonet or fire a shot. If the demon they had fought before was to come on them now, they would be sitting ducks unless the sorceress and her henchmen could protect them. Like most of the men he had slung his rifle over his back and went with bayonet in hand. At least he had his pistol, although he was not sure whether it would be wise to use it in this confined space. Ricochets could prove deadly.
If they continued much further they might find themselves on the roads of some subterranean hell. Just as the thought struck him, he noticed that they stopped. A low mutter rippled down the line.
Up ahead they had found light and something far more sinister.
Zarahel sensed the intruders. He felt puny human spirits and the presence of others far more powerful. Excellent, he thought, directing some of his servitors to action through the psychic link they shared. Their souls would provide fine fodder for a reborn god.
Rik could not believe his eyes. The tunnel had ended, passed through an opening and emerged into something far different. If he had not known better he would have sworn they were in a city, one buried deep beneath the earth and built by nothing human at all.
All around them were walls of smoothed stone, caked and mortared and overlaid by something slick as varnish, shiny as the carapace of some monstrous beetle. Reluctantly he touched it with his fingers. It felt faintly sticky. Patterns of phosphorescence covered it. He felt sure that they were alien runes that contained their own cryptic meaning.
The tunnels were long and circular as if made by the bodies of some great worms and then left smooth by the slimy secretions of strange moist bodies hardening on them. He intuited that he was having a premonition of the truth brought to him by some sorcerous sense other than one of the five normal ones.
“What the hell is this?” the Barbarian asked.
“I have not the slightest idea.” Rik said. Like the rest of them he moved forward to get closer to the Lady Asea. He strained his ears, desperate to hear what she might say, to get some explanation of their uncanny surroundings. She was speaking to Sardec but her words were pitched in such a way that he suspected that she intended for them to be heard by all. They were not reassuring.
“…lair or a city, a hidden fortress of the elder race.”
“It’s astonishing,” said Sardec. “So perfectly preserved. It looks like it was just abandoned.”
“Perhaps it is not. Perhaps it is just re-inhabited or being prepared for it.”
The ripjacks milled around, yipping and hissing and frothing madly. They seemed on the edge of going crazy, and Rik could understand why. Strange scents filled the air, strong and musky. If he could catch them, how much stronger must they seem to the tracking beasts.
“It’s like the inside of a termite hive,” said Sergeant Hef.
“A whole mountain made into a termite hive,” muttered Leon.
“Let’s not imagine the size of the termites.”
“Always looking on the bright side, eh, Rik?” said Leon. Despite his joking words, he was unable to keep the fear from his voice.
Rik was thinking about the thing he had fought in the mine and trying unsuccessfully not to imagine a city of
