The Crucible of the Dragon God

unknown region they were about to negotiate or the sudden overwhelming odour of garlic and piratical aftershave that pervaded The Mole's cabin. This was going to be a long journey.

Having become quite used to the dwarven machine's controls by now, Kali pushed forward the lever that set it into gear, and then another that turned it on its tracks until its nose pointed towards the open hatch. Then, without further hesitation, she urged the machine forward, swallowing slightly as its front dipped onto the slope that lay beneath the opening. Outside the small observation portholes, the ambient light turned from the azureness of above to a strange and somewhat eerie rippling green.

'So theesa canals, they are what?' Dolorosa queried. 'Some kind ovva sewer?'

'Not a sewer,' Kali said. 'But, to be honest, I haven't a clue what they actually are. All I know is where they go. At least, part of where they go.'

'Whicha beggas the question. If you avva thees 'Mole', why is it you didda not drill into them somewhere else, inna stead of using thees hatch? Somawhere less dangerous?'

That, Kali could answer, and did. The fact was, she had made one exploratory dig at the location of one of the canal's branches over a year before, but had hit a layer of something that had been as impenetrable as the dropshaft plates she had later discovered. Whatever the material was, it defied damage from all the tools in her possession and then some. She seriously doubted that even the dwarven drill bits would make much inroads without taking damage. No, the dropshafts were the only realistic way in — and now that she was actually using one of them she hoped that she might find some answers as to what the material was. Because if she knew that, it might give her more of a clue as to who it was had built the bloody canals in the first place. Speaking of which, The Mole was coming to the end of the access tunnel.

'Lady and gentleman,' Kali said as she flicked on The Mole's headlights. 'The Lost Canals of Turnitia.'

Both Aldrededor and Dolorosa leaned forward to peer through the portholes, and gasped. Kali almost did the same. Only the fact that her brain was working overtime to process what she was seeing preventing her from doing so.

Because with the affair of the dwarven testing ground and then the entrance passage to this network, she was beginning to think that she'd had enough of tunnels to last her half a lifetime, but the fact was tunnels were not what she had got. Instead, ahead of The Mole, she found herself staring at an arched thoroughfare that was as large and as grandiose as the inside of a cathedral. What was even more awe inspiring was that this passage was only one of the canals. Beyond further dark arches, to their left and right, as far as they could see, were many more of them, routing away to Gods knew where beneath the surface of the peninsula.

'By all of the Gods,' Aldrededor breathed. 'I never thought I would see this place.'

'You know it?'

'From tales told on the high seas.'

'Itta reminds me ovva the crystal caverns beyond Sarcre,' Dolorosa whispered. 'You remember, Dreddy? Where a we founda Davyjonz Locket?'

'I remember, darling,' Aldrededor said, his eyes twinkling. 'Ah — it is good to smell the sea again.'

The sea? Kali thought, and then realised that what Aldrededor said was true.

That briny odour she had smelled above was stronger here, detectable even through the filters that were bringing air into the cabin. The fact that they were a good number of leagues from the sea, then, could mean only one thing. The canals down here were seawater canals, pumped throughout the network by who-knew-what kind of mechanisms.

'It's nice to be somewhere where there's a little peace and quiet,' Kali commented.

Aldrededor's eyebrows rose.

'Wait — you do not know?'

'Know what?'

'These canals. The tales on the high seas tell of something that lives down here.' He stroked his moustache. 'As my beloved wife might say, something beeeg.'

Chapter Ten

If there was something beeg living in the Lost Canals of Turnitia there was, after half a day's travel through them, no sign of it. But then there was more than enough canal left for it to hide in. Or, if you were a glass-half-empty type, more than enough for it to leap out of. If it leapt, Kali mused. After all, it might crawl. Or slither. Or hop. Whatever it might do, Kali tended towards the glass half-empty principal, and so had been guiding The Mole through the canals cautiously and in low gear, its headlights dipped and sweeping slowly across broad banks and shadowed arches.

Despite Merrit Moon's warnings of tunnel collapse, they had come across few obstacles so far, and those they had, had been little more than piles of rubble which The Mole's sonic cannons made short work of. Having already made the decision not to stop until they were through the canals, Kali could only experience what they had to offer by peering through the Mole's forward viewing slat, and this she did, squinting, to occasionally purse her lips, occasionally raise her eyebrows and also, occasionally, frown. It was the way the canals made her feel. It was strange but, regardless of how many ancient sites she had visited, this place felt different. Though she couldn't quite put her finger on why. It was as if she had taken a step too far into the past and, for some reason, she felt like an intruder here. The feeling was not, though, one that would prevent her from intruding again — it actually quite intrigued her — and this she was determined to do, when she had the time.

Speaking of time, she had estimated that at their current rate of progress it would take The Mole about two days to navigate the canals beneath the Anclas Territories. Not as quick as other methods that might have gotten her to the Drakengrats but the only one she had.

When her unwanted passengers had joined her she'd imagined the journey was going to be interminable but Aldrededor had, in fact, turned out to be amusing company, sharing more of his tales from the high seas. As pleasant company as he was, however, the same had not turned out to be the case with Dolorosa.

Crammed behind them in the cabin, not only was her habit of smoking cragweed cheroots sending the air scrubbers into overdrive, but it had not taken long for her to start complaining that she was suffering badly from the bone-ache. This was only one of, what turned out to be, a series of complaints. Interruptions that included frequent prods in the back accompanied by suggestions of which way to turn, whether to slow down or speed up and, on occasion, louder cries of 'stupid-woman-watcha-out-forra-that-bump ahead.' There had also been repeated questions along the lines of 'Are we there yet?' Last but not least, she had emitted an ear-piercing shriek when she had discovered there was a dried dwarf's head beneath her seat. This then promptly, and unexpectedly, ended up on Kali's lap, causing screeches from both she and Aldrededor and reducing everyone to a nervous wreck. Admittedly, Kali had forgotten about the head, and she might have given Dolorosa that one were it not for what happened next.

Dolorosa leaned forward and whispered something in Aldrededor's ear, but it was just loud enough for her to hear.

'You want what?'

'She wishes to answer the call of nature,' Aldrededor whispered diplomatically. 'To powder her wart. To enhance the realm of the gods of the sea…'

'I know what she means, Aldrededor! But hells, woman — can't it wait?'

'Eet issa the shock of this theeng, eet has sent my plumbing into spasm,' Dolorosa objected, pointing at the dwarf's head and shaking her own. 'No, I can notta hold it any longer. I warna you, Kali Hooper.'

'Fark, haven't you got a bottle or something?' Kali said with exasperation.

'I cannotta — and willa notta — tinkle while you listen!'

It wasn't a thought that appealed much to Kali, either, and the fact was she doubted she could last two days. 'All right, all right!' she said, sighing heavily. She squinted through the observation slat, looking for a suitable parking space and then, with a grinding of levers, brought The Mole to a stop. The hatch hissed open. 'Go. But don't go far and make it quick.'