dropping uselessly to the ground with a dull clang.
'Ain't nothin' but a measly centipede,' growled Hornsbuck in disgust, wrenching the pincers of the creature open with his bare hands and thrusting it head first into the flame of the torch. It shrilled a brief high-pitched scream, then crumpled as the fire shriveled and blackened its segmented carapace.
Mika groaned with pain and bent nearly double, clutching his bloody ankle, for while the thing was dead, the awful pain continued.
'I don't understand why you're carrying on like this,' said Hornsbuck, as he stared at Mika with disgust. 'It was just a little one, barely even two feet long. Why, once when I was traveling-'
'Hornsbuck, I don't care if you eat them ten feet long for breakfast every morning,' Mika said through clenched teeth. 'The damn thing bit me, and it hurts like the devil. Aren't they poisonous?'
'Poisonous? Well, yes, I suppose they could be,' mused Hornsbuck, stroking his beard as he tried to remember. 'Maybe so, but not a lot,' he finally concluded.
'Hornsbuck, a little bit dead works just the same as very dead,' gasped Mika, propping himself up against the wall next to the princess. Steeling himself, he withdrew his bloodstained hand, pulled off his mutilated boot and examined the wound.
The skin was already turning purplish-blue on either side of the twin gashes, each of which extended the full width of the ankle and appeared relatively deep. The flesh was sore, and the lips of the wound had swollen shut, sealing inside whatever poison had been injected into his body.
Mika sighed deeply, noting the two crimson lines that were already inching their way up the calf of his leg, leaving a deep throbbing pain in their wake that seemed to increase as he watched.
Mika hated pain and blood, especially when it was his own, and even more so when he had to inflict it on himself on purpose. Yet there was nothing else to be done; if he did not treat the poison, it would only get worse. Much worse.
Under Hornsbuck's amused eye, Mika seared the blade of his knife in the flame of the torch, then, without pausing, slashed the flesh above the ankle, cutting across the two lines of poison. Blood flowed freely, pouring down his foot in dark streams. To his surprise, he felt immediate relief from the awful pain. Soon, the blood turned bright again and the flow diminished and then slowed to a trickle.
Acting nonchalantly, Mika rummaged in his pouch and found a horn of healing salve that he thought appropriate. Its principal ingredients were borage, bittersweet, red clover, golden seal, and mullein, all of which were used in cases of blood poisoning. To that he added a handful of cobwebs scooped from the walls, to aid in clotting.
He smeared the wounds with the thick salve and webs and ripped yet another strip from the remains of the beautiful silk dress to wrap around his ankle.
'Done?' Hornsbuck asked politely, although laughter still twinkled in his eyes.
'Done,' replied Mika.
'Then let us be on our way,' said Hornsbuck, gesturing with a broad sweeping movement of his hand, indicating the path beyond.
'But isn't it still the middle of the night?' asked Mika.
'Who can tell and what does it matter down here where there ain't no light?' said Hornsbuck with a grin. 'We're up, so we'd best be going.'
There was no arguing with the man's logic, so with a shake of his head, Mika got to his feet and put his boot back on, which, he noticed, still smelled slightly of rabbit stew.
He was astonished to find that there was little or no pain in the ankle and congratulated himself on his fine healing skills, choosing not to remember that he had made the salve months ago under his father's explicit direction.
The wolves were all too glad to leave the tunnel, skirting the blackened remains of the centipede with obvious aversion.
'Thanks a lot,' muttered Mika as he limped along next to Tam. 'I thought you were supposed to sleep with one eye open. My faithful companion, always alert, never surprised. Hah! That centipede could just as easily have gotten me by the neck, you know. Then where would you be?'
Tam licked his lips and, meeting Mika's eyes only briefly, looked away.
'All right, all right. I'm not too wild about centipedes either. I forgive you… this time,' Mika said grudgingly, and they walked along the dark passage in companionable silence.
It seemed that Hornsbuck also spoke to RedTail, conferring with him quietly when they came to junctures that the older man seemed unsure of. In those instances, Hornsbuck seemed to talk to the wolf and then listen to a reply that Mika could not discern. It puzzled him, but he was certainly not going to ask. A nomad's relationship with his wolf was sacrosanct. Twice, Hornsbuck and his wolf seemed to disagree. Once, Hornsbuck did not take RedTail's advice and they turned left rather than right. RedTail remained at the juncture, allowing Hornsbuck, Mika, Tam, and the horse to go off without him. Quite soon, however, Hornsbuck had to admit that the wolf had been right, and the entire party was forced to return to the juncture and follow a smirking RedTail along the route the wolf had preferred.
This corridor led them to a wide hall that stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see, the dark shadows hiding much from their view.
The ceiling was brightly colored and appeared to be made up of tiny pieces of mosaic tile. Closer examination revealed the tiles to be semi-precious gems struck square and unfaceted, reflecting the light dully.
The pictures they comprised were of nothing that Mika could recognize. Joyous swirls of bright primary colors clashed and conflicted with heavy threatening slashes of darkness-ebony opals and black sapphires. Somehow the riot of colors was disturbing in a way that Mika could not even begin to articulate, but he experienced a shiver of foreboding.
'What is this place?' he asked in a whisper.
'I don't know,' replied Hornsbuck. 'Creepy, ain't it? Over the center, there's this throne-like thing. Big. Bigger than any human would need. I don't know what sat there. I certainly don't want to meet it. Come over here and look at these pillars.'
Hornsbuck held his torch up close to one of the hundreds of pillars that supported the roof. Mika cringed back.
Flames shot up the rounded sides of the pillars, reaching for the ceiling. Flames that were made of blood red rubies embedded in the stone and outlined in a dried rusty brown medium that looked suspiciously like blood. Circling the base and the top of the pillar, also embedded in the stone, were skulls, human skulls. Their empty eyes stared out at Mika, their jaws gaped wide in silent anguish.
'They're all like that,' whispered Hornsbuck.
'Every one.'
'Let's get out of here,' said Mika, chills running down his back. 'I don't like this place.'
'I don't either,' said Hornsbuck. 'But at least no one seems to come here any more. There's that to be glad for.'
As though waiting only for his words, the wolves began to growl, low ominous sounds rumbling deep in their chests. Their ears lay flat against their skulls, and their hackles rose thickly about their necks.
'What is it, Tam?' asked Mika holding out his torch and reaching nervously for his sword. But Tam never shifted his gaze and continued to stare into the darkness and growl. Slowly, RedTail began to move, gingerly stalking forward on stiff legs as though treading on eggshells. Tam followed reluctantly, his thick silver-plumed tail curled tightly over his black furred back. He seemed uncertain, cautious and perhaps even afraid, but his gold eyes blazed with hatred, and Mika knew that a blood lust was building in him.
Then Mika heard it, the rapid shuffling of a heavy body moving over the gritty floor. It was coming from his right. He held the torch up high, but there was nothing to be seen. The roan began to back and sidestep, yanking at his reins and whickering anxiously.
'What is it, Hornsbuck?' Mika asked, growing more and more anxious himself.
'I don't know,' said Hornsbuck, unsheathing his sword. 'But you'd best get ready. Tie that horse to one of those pillars. I suspect you might need both hands; the wolves say trouble's coming.'
Mika tied the roan to the nearest pillar and unsheathed his sword.
They heard the breathing before they saw the creature, a heavy, stentorian sound that rasped on Mika's
