on for too long, so he found himself constantly flicking his eyes away. He couldnt discern if the shapes were actually moving, or if their convoluted shapes merely suggested animation.
Finally they reached the gallery.
The massive cavity engulfed the ship. A shelf along the interior side was hollowed with several secondary tunnels- some so small a human would have a hard time crawling into them, and one so large the ship could have almost fit down it. The light of the gleamtails threw golden and reddish highlights off the dark stone. A smell akin to rotting fish enfolded them. The odor was mixed with other spices Raidon couldn't identify.
'Tie up!' yelled Thoster. Several crew members grabbed up coiled ropes, but only stared nervously at the dark stone platform that had to serve as their pier. None moved to comply.
Seren said, 'The gleamtail jacks will maintain Green Siren in this position, even if I leave the ritual circle.'
'I'm sure,' said the captain, implying by his tone that he was anything but confident. 'I wager it'll do no harm to tie up as well, eh?'
Seren shrugged.
Raidon leaped over the side onto the platform. The air was moist and suffused with tiny particles of light. He walked the shelf from one end to the other, avoiding stone columns that speckled the floor. When it was apparent that monstrous creatures were not beating a path from the tunnels to swarm him, the crew clambered over the ship's side to join him. They tied up Green Siren using some of the larger columns as bollards.
'What now?' said the captain, his eyes almost eager. 'We move into the city and discover its heart,' said Raidon. 'We need to find the creature from which the Dreamheart was carved. If fate is kind, we'll find it before its progeny wake it. Somewhere in this massive structure, aboleths are singing to rouse their father. We must find that chamber and kill the children before the parent can open the rest of its eyes. If destiny is on our side, perhaps we may even hope Angul can slay the Eldest as it sleeps defenseless.'
Everyone just looked at the monk. Finally the captain asked, 'What odds do you give on the warlock showing up down here and interfering with us?'
Raidon blinked. 'Why would he do that?'
Thoster said, 'He's connected to this place as much as you-he carries the Dreamheart.'
'His presence here seems unlikely. You experienced how difficult a time we had finding and reaching Xxiphu- and I had the Cerulean Sign to guide me. Yes, he has the Dreamheart, though it won't do him any good if we slay the Eldest before all its eyes are open.'
The captain said, 'I think you're wrong, Raidon.'
'What's this about, Thoster?'
The captain clapped! Raidon on the shoulder. 'I like to be prepared for contingencies. Think about it-why'd the warlock take off with the Dreamheart to begin with? Because of the girl. If Japheth had got her free from the stone, she'd have woken up by now. She hasn't. Which I think means-'
'That her mind isn't in the Dreamheart,' finished Seren, her tone incredulous. 'Otherwise, someone with Japheth's arcane connections would have freed her.'
'Exactly,' said Thoster. 'My guess is her mind was sucked down here!'
Raidon shrugged. 'Could be. It doesn't change our plans.'
'Well, perhaps we should we pack her up so we can carry her easily?'
'Anusha? No, of course not. Bringing an Unconscious person into the city would be a nuisance at best, and a danger to all of us trying to keep her safe in a fight. We'll put your dog in her cabin to watch over her.'
Thoster rubbed his chin. 'Well, I suppose that's fine.'
'Are you worried about facing Japheth?' Seren asked the captain.
'No,' said Thoster. 'At least, not since your ritual.' He put his hand on the amulet cord. 'Still, how often does a fellow walk into a primeval relic filled with half-petrified monsters older than gods?'
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Year of the Secret (1396 DR) Xxiphu, Hall of Spawning
The man dreamed.
A many-columned structure stood on a mountain at the edge of a void. Vast scale was implied by the misted clouds that wreathed the peak and edifice alike. The columns surrounded an inner citadel of solid stone-solid but for a gigantic gate of star iron. The enormous valve was pitted and ancient. Sometimes it rattled and shook with the slow cadence of mighty waves, as if something inside strove to throw it open with steady, unrelenting strength.
The man knew with dreamy conviction that on the other side of the gate stretched forgotten dimensions that lay beyond the stars. Through its sealed gap, whispered this unearned certainty, infinities stretched outside mortal and divine conception alike.
A woman in golden armor stood before the gate, in the shadow of the towering columns. Her lips moved, but the man couldn't hear her. Her words were important, that was clear. Something he needed to understand immediately. If he failed to put meaning to her increasingly desperate attempts to communicate, he realized something catastrophic would shudder to its world-breaking culmination…
Japheth came awake with a cry.
He lay curled like a newborn within a hollow niche coated with residual slime. His cloak was draped around his body like a shroud.
The warlock levered himself up onto his elbows and saw a narrow phosphorescent tunnel snaking up and away.
He was alone and glad for it. The dream was similar to ones he'd had before, but unlike them too. Anusha was in the dream mouthing the same incomprehensible warnings as always, but her surroundings seemed more dire than the crazed visions his sleeping mind had earlier painted.
Japheth shivered, but not from the dream or the cold. It was his body betraying him. He couldn't predict when the shakes would surface in his flesh. The trembling in his hands and the flinching tic in his expression appeared without warning and stayed overlong. Sometimes when he concentrated, the quavering subsided. A few times, the shuddering intensified so much he feared a seizure was imminent.
And what of his abilities? His mind probed for his missing spells like a tongue unable to ignore an empty tooth socket.
The fabric of his cloak was wound with subtle power and abilities that far eclipsed a normal cape, that was true.
But the powers of transposition and protection it provided were hardly compensation for the arcane might Japheth had wielded just hours earlier.
Without his arcane tools, he was little more than a man far out of his depth. Without the patronage of his sworn pact, he was succumbing to the end stages of a lethal addiction to traveler's dust.
He was in a bad way. If he didn't take a crystal every hour or so, he would slide right off the end of the putative road and die, his soul claimed by demons. But every time he took a crystal, he also moved farther down that demonbuilt avenue and closer to the precipice, although at a less breakneck pace.
But fast or slow, he would soon be dragged into the Abyss.
He lashed out with a curled fist at the sticky niche wall. His knuckle split open, but the pain was a welcome, if brief, diversion.
Japheth put his knuckle to his lips and glanced around. Neither Anusha nor Yeva had returned. They sought a way through the spawning hall that avoided newly birthed aboleths. The creatures couldn't see the women, but they were all too aware of him.
'It was supposed to be different,' he murmured. 'When I imagined us together, we were going to be so happy. I imagined us attending Midsummer Festival, sharing candied apples, and laughing in the sun. And as the sun westered, our embraces would grow more urgent…' He sighed and shook his head to dislodge such distracting thoughts.
'Now all we have is horror.'
