I sent out two slaver skeletons to walk across the floor, testing each one of the large stone tiles to see if any of them were pressure-activated. Sure enough, halfway through the chamber, the skeleton sank an inch into the floor. A horizontal shower of darts immediately blasted out from both the left and right walls, smashing bits off both skeletons and punching holes in their skulls.
They were damaged, but not in the way a living being would have been. They could take a great deal of punishment and pretty much had to be smashed into piles of broken bones before they could be considered truly dead, again.
They pushed on until the other skeleton activated another pressure switch to a far more damaging trap. Two hidden steel cables, which had been waiting, stretched like bowstrings, snapped tight across the chamber, slicing both skeletons in half at the waist.
Even after being cut in half, the skeletons kept going as legless torsos dragging themselves along the floor.
“Damn,” Cranton remarked with a grin, “those guys just don’t stop.”
“The undead possess rare powers of resilience,” Isu said, her eyes glowing briefly with an eerie light.
The skeleton torsos finally reached the far end of the chamber, after having personally checked every stone.
“Listen up everyone,” I said, “this chamber is safe to move through, but we don’t know anything about the doors and what’s behind them. I’m sure at least a couple of ‘em are gonna be trapped. Examine them closely, but don’t touch anything, and for the love of… Death? Can I say that? I feel like I should be taking my own name in vain sometimes. Anyway, for the love of whatever, don’t open any of them. Okay, spread out and see what you can find.”
The other living and I spread out through the chamber and began examining the doors. They each had a unique symbol carved into them, but there didn’t seem to be anything that clearly indicated which of them were safe to open and which weren’t. None of them bore Xayon’s tornado sigil.
I wasn’t happy I had to use them all so fast, but I did have my slaver skeletons here as trap fodder. Better them than us, anyway. I was about to order them to begin opening doors when Cranton ambled over to me.
“Vance,” he said, “I’ve looked at all the symbols on the doors, and I think I know how to figure out which ones we can open.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Okay, man, so each of the symbols is the symbol of a god or goddess. Some of them are ancient gods that almost everyone has forgotten about. Except us historians, that is.”
“All right, and how does that help us?”
“You’ve heard about the Divine Feuds, right?”
“I’ve heard about it here and there,” I answered, “but I can’t say I’m an expert.”
“That’s already more than most people, man. Most people wouldn’t even know what I’m talking about it. These wars happened thousands of years ago, and they’ve been almost forgotten. I’m not gonna bore you with all the details, but the sigils on these doors represent the gods and goddesses who fought in this battle, the Battle of Dragon Mountain. A number of gods and goddesses who were allied with Xayon turned traitor and joined the enemy. Other gods who were with Xayon fled the battlefield. In the end, only three gods remained on Xayon’s side. She lost the battle, of course, but escaped with her life. Her three remaining allies, and most of their troops, weren’t so lucky.”
“So,” I said, “the doors with sigils that represent the traitor gods and goddesses are almost certain to be trapped… but only a devotee of Xayon, or a historian like yourself, would know that. And the loyal gods’ doors will be safe to open.”
“Oh, yeah, I hadn’t considered that, man! So, the loyal ones were the God of Trees, whose sigil is an oak tree; the Goddess of Rain, whose sigil is a drop of water; and the God of Stone, whose sigil is a mountain.”
I nodded and ordered my first slaver skeletons to open the door with the water droplet sigil. We waited with bated breath as the door creaked open… but nothing happened. Directly behind the door was only a pile of rubble blocking the passage. Next, a skeleton tried the door with the sigil of a mountain and found more of the same.
“Damn it,” I muttered. “One door to go, and if the hallway behind that one has also collapsed, then we’re shit out of luck.”
The skeleton opened the door, and beyond it lay a long, narrow passage.
“Looks like you’re staying here to guard the chamber, buddy,” I said to Fang, giving him a scratch behind his ear.
He grumbled but did as I said.
“Actually,” I continued, “that goes for everyone but my skeletons. I’m going down the passage by myself. It’s gonna be tight in there, with no room for mistakes. We can’t afford to have an inexperienced explorer setting off a trap, not in close quarters like that.”
The women weren’t particularly happy about this, but they knew that what I was saying made sense. Cranton didn’t seem to care too much, though; he was busy examining the chamber in detail, murmuring to himself and taking mental notes.
I headed into the darkness of the narrow tunnel with five slaver skeletons. I was carrying a torch, as were each of them, but I was the only one who was armed. The passage was very narrow, so we had to walk in single file. I stayed in the center of the column, just in case one of the lead skeletons triggered a trap; either the first or last person in the line would bear the brunt of it, and I didn’t want that to be me.
We turned a corner and found
