“Nope,” she said, her voice hushed “this is bad.”
“Bad? Bad how?”
“They’re out there,” she said. “About eighty, by my count, in a line, moving through the ravine below us, just over the ledge that goes past our cave. If we go out, they’ll see us. We need to wait.”
“I don’t love that idea. What if they circle around and come check this place out? It’s not as though the entrance is well hidden.”
“Agreed,” she said. “I was thinking … how about the narrow passage at the back of the cave? It might lead to another exit.”
“And it might lead to us getting trapped in a tight space when they overrun us,” Cyrus said. “Plus, Windrider is gonna have a hell of a time fitting through there.”
“So you’d rather go the way that we know includes scouts for the enemy?” She shrugged expansively, her white hair highlighted by the darkness. “Have it your way.”
“No,” Cyrus said. “The other option is that we can sit here and wait for them. They may just pass by. Or,” he said with more of a smile, “we could fight. Though I’m not exactly sanguine about our odds, especially without a healer. Eighty of them is a lot, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more.”
“So we wait?” She had her arms folded, looking at him with a sly expression, waiting to see what he said.
“Hell, no. I’m terrible at waiting.” He sighed. “To the narrow passage. We can at least take a look around.”
Despite a slight argument from Windrider in the form of resisting Cyrus’s attempts to pull him along gently by the reins, the horse did give in and follow. Aisling slipped into the narrow passage first, having to make little accommodation to enter, given her slight figure and short stature. “You want to go next?” Cyrus asked Windrider, who just stared at him. “Fine. I’ll do it.” He slid in, having to turn sideways to avoid an edge of rock that jutted out, but once past it, he found he could walk comfortably. Windrider followed, stepping over the obstruction, but the wide-bodied horse’s progress was slow, taking time and brushing against the walls of the passage. When it began to widen again, Cyrus checked and found a few places where the jagged rocks had broken the horse’s hide. “Sorry,” Cyrus said, patting Windrider’s neck. “But it looks superficial.”
“Cyrus,” Aisling hissed at him, a low noise that caught his attention. He trudged along the widening path of the cave, and realized for the first time that there was light ahead of them, coming from around a corner. Aisling was against the wall, he finally realized, blending with the shadows. He saw a dark blue hand beckon him forward, and he left Windrider’s reins behind, creeping up behind her. When he got close, she grasped him firmly, pushing him slowly against the wall, her arm across his chest. She held a single finger up to her mouth, then slid out from cover and inched around the corner.
Cyrus edged up and looked around. Ahead was a slight drop, some form of embankment. He frowned; the horse would have some difficulty getting down that. He froze and caught his breath. Aisling was creeping ahead, and something was moving below. Two somethings, he realized, with grey, pallid flesh, and jagged teeth, rounded heads. A long, thick tongue came out of one of their mouths as it appeared to say something to the scourge next to it, a high, throaty screech from deep within that sounded like nothing Cyrus had ever heard before.
Aisling jumped off the embankment just then, as Cyrus drew his sword, ready to join her. She hit both the creatures moments after reaching the ground, daggers sliding into the base of their necks, and both went limp without so much as a sound, falling from all fours to flat on the ground, overlarge tongues spread out on the dirt. Aisling looked back and beckoned him forward, and he grasped Windrider’s reins and began to gingerly make his way ahead. “Ais,” he whispered, “if there’s two, there’s more-maybe we should turn around.”
She either didn’t hear him or ignored him, going forward more quickly than he could stealthily catch her. He followed, cursing her silently the entire time, watching every step, the low light from ahead the only illumination since Aisling had put out their torch after they emerged from the narrow passage. The light grew brighter as they went around another corner, and Cyrus found himself on the edge of a large chamber, an enormous, roughly circular room that had a sequence of stones that leveled down to the floor, a few feet below the cave opening that Cyrus stood upon. Aisling had already descended, her feet moving so quietly that Cyrus couldn’t have heard them even if he hadn’t been awestruck by the sight before him.
In the center of the chamber was something very familiar; a portal, of exactly the same kind that dotted the landscape of Arkaria. Ovoid, standing lengthwise above the ground, like a door turned sideways, it was massive enough for ten people to walk through shoulder to shoulder, even if they were Cyrus’s size. His jaw fell open, and he stared at it; it glowed, the source of the light he had wondered at. Beyond it was another exit, a wider one, much larger than the tunnels they had just come from.
“Ais,” Cyrus said, keeping his voice low even though he saw no sign of the scourge, “we need to get out of here. What if there are more?”
She halted, but only after she had crossed the thirty or so steps to reach the portal. She ran a hand along the edge of it, as though she were feeling the runes carved along the side to make certain it was real. “Where do you think this leads?”
A dark glow came from within the portal, something like mist with light shining through it; like clouds with the sun behind them. “I don’t know,” Cyrus said, “every time I’ve gone through one of these things when it’s active like this, I’ve ended up in the realm of one of the gods.”
“Might be worth a look, don’t you think?” She looked at him, vaguely mischievous, and he suddenly found her deeply annoying.
“No,” he said, “it isn’t. We have somewhere else to be getting to, in case you forgot. There are enemies all around us-”
“Yes, they have this valley pretty well sewn shut at this point,” she said, letting her fingers trace the lines of one of the runes. What do you suppose our odds are of managing to slip through and get away from the hordes of these scourge that fill this place?”
“They’re good if we face them on open ground-” Cyrus began.
“They’re bad, because we’re outnumbered by a ridiculous amount and if we lose Windrider, we’re done.” She smiled again. “Now we have another option. Virtually certain death out there, or the
“We only go to the realms of gods when we know they’re not home,” Cyrus said, his voice rising. “If this leads into one of those places, it’s virtual suicide.”
“So is going out there,” Aisling said, and the smile faded from her face. “They’re hunting us and they will find us sooner or later if we stay out there. I know a hunter when I see one and those things are tracking us down. They’ll come, and they’ll overwhelm us and we’ll die a horrible death out here where no one will ever find our bodies.” She looked back to the portal. “If it’s down to that or being smashed by a god, I know which one I choose.” Before he could react, she turned, took one step away and looked back at him. “I guess you’ll just have to decide whether you’re willing to jump in front of a god’s hand for me.” Her smile twisted into something else, something sad, and she stepped into the portal and disappeared behind the misty light.
Chapter 37
Cyrus followed her only a moment later, after a pause and a curse, and he yanked Windrider’s reins to lead the horse through the portal. He felt the air distort as he stepped through, the world seeming to upend and twist around him, light blinding him, until his feet settled on solid ground and he bumped into something ahead of him, and realized it was Aisling.
“Why does this look so familiar?” she asked, and Cyrus looked around the room they stood in.
It was a massive chamber that drew off into the distance, a room longer than it was wide, with torches burning in sconces on all the walls. Cyrus could smell something, a faint dustiness, and display cases lined every wall, while others sat in the middle of the floor. A tingle ran through Cyrus as he stepped forward, pushing Aisling behind him. “Because we’ve been here before.” He looked around again, saw the balcony in the distance with the stairs leading up to either side of it, and felt a shudder. “This is Mortus’s treasure room.” He took a step forward
