Chapter18
THE DARK PASSAGE
THE GROUP SPENT ANOTHER day and night beside thefire, recovering from their injuries and discussing their route.
“We goes throughthe mountain,” Grim said.
The trollnodded towards the depths of the cave.
“It’s an oldvolcano. When the klops was mining here, they hit a lavavent. Carries on clean through to the other side. The mountain pass will beimpossible to cross this time of year. This way leads us past their guards andlookouts, right into their camp.”
The trollstudied the group’s faces.
“You ain’t scared a the dark, is ya?”he asked.
Tier pushedthe rifle into Grim’s nose.
“Hey, what areya doin’?”
“Now that weknow where we’re going,” Tier said, “we don’t need you anymore.”
“Wait, wait.There’s twists and turns down there, the likes of which could get you fine folklost for all eternity. Tricky, these volcanoes is, but I knows the way.”
Could theyreally trust Grim? Cyrus rubbed his swollen elbow. His hip and ribs were purpleand swollen too. He dropped his hands and tried to ignore the wounds. He didnot want to show the troll how truly injured he was.
Over theirtime in the cave, Cyrus watched as Fibian’s puncturedhand and chest healed, forcing dark slivers from his blackened wounds. Hisfever broke in the night, and the dark oil beading from his pores became clean,clear perspiration.
After abreakfast of stale bread and warm water, Cyrus, Fibianand Tier made torches from the troll’s firewood. The five started their longtrek through the dark mountain passage. Grim led the party with Tier’s rifle athis back. Cyrus followed Tier. Edward curled within his fur collar, and Fibian brought up the rear. His mechanical hand glinted in thedarkness.
The would-berescuers passed several rocky alcoves that harbored small clusters of water klops cocoons.
“There must behundreds of them by now,” Tier said, poking at one of the frozen husks with herrifle.
“Near athousand,” Grim replied, “Breed, eat, and mine is all they do.”
The torchlightcast long shadows along the cold, stone walls.
“I still say youshould cut me loose,” Grim said, straining against the spider silk securing hiswrists.
His voice echoedthroughout the caverns in a low rumble.
“More use toyou with me hands free. And where’s I goin’ a run offto? I gots no torch to see by.”
“Just keepmoving,” Tier said, stabbing the muzzle of her weapon into his back.
The groupmarched on in silence, their path taking a slight downward angle. The rockwalls seemed to become denser as the air grew stale and more frigid. The scentof rotten eggs began to wrinkle Cyrus’ nose.
“Sulfur,” Fibian whispered.
Signs ofmining began to recede. Iron spikes in the walls and the odd support beam werereplaced by the natural contours of the heat tempered veneer.
“The klops only took this route once,” Grim said, as theyreached a fork in the pass.
He led themleft into a dark, bat-infested passage. Smaller passageways began to appear,veering off to their left and right.
“Why onlyonce?” Cyrus asked.
He held historch up to illuminate the hundreds of tiny, leathery bodies huddled togetheralong the low ceiling.
“Cause of thecreatures that inhabit these hollows,” Grim said, with a knowing grin.
Cyrus’ stomachfell. He thought of the bat-like klappen, far away onthat infested island.
“What do youmean, troll?” Tier asked.
Her grip tightenedaround the rifle’s stalk.
“Wendigo,”Grim said, turning into the firelight.
The flamesthrew devilish shadows over his grinning features.
“Old wives’tales,” Tier said, returning to the trek.
“Maybe,” the trollsaid, “But whatever they is, they sure frightened the klops.The wendigo was no match for the klops’ numbers, yousee. Just shadowed them until they reached the other side of the mountain.”
Grim lookedback with an expression of feigned horror.
“But several ofthe poor sods went mad with fear at the sight of ‘em.Others lost their wits as time wore on in the caves.”
The troll stompeda rat scurrying underfoot.
“The creatureswere like ghosts, always there, just beyond the reach of the klops’ torchlight. Some klopslost their way and became tasty meals for the ghouls. The rest decided never totravel these caverns ever again. That’s when they made their treacheroussouthern pass, back that-a-way.”
The trollpointed a knobby thumb back towards camp.
“How do you knowall this?” Cyrus asked.
The groupreached another fork in the road. Grim ducked low and led them northeast.
“When me andthe boys got desperate for food, knocking off a couple klopswas always easy pickin’s. We tracked ‘em as they went through.”
The trollcracked a dark grin.
“We’d comeback every so often when food was tight. The wendigo never troubled us much. Wewas too big for ‘em to give us any bother. And thestupid klops barely defend the passageway leading totheir camp. They figure it’s a lock with those buggers infesting its belly. Butdon’t you fellas worry.”
Grim turnedand winked.
“You’re withme now. No wendigo’s goin’ a have your skin.”
“Stop callingthem that,” Tier demanded.
“You gots a better name for ‘em?”
“What arewendigo?” Fibian asked.
“Like I said,an old wives’ tale,” Tier said.
“Can you tellit to us?” Cyrus asked.
Tier huffed.
“Keep in mind;these are just ghost stories, not truths.”
Cyrus nodded.
“A nomadicpeople used to hunt these shores,” Tier said, “You can still find their treecarvings and what-not if you look carefully enough.
“It’s saidthat long ago, one of their shaman lost his wife to disease. Riddled withgrief, the man made a deal with the Trollmann tobring her back, but what was returned to him was only his wife in appearance.”
“Trollmann?” Cyrus asked.
“One of Rorroh’s many names,” Fibianreplied.
A bat screechedfrom a crack in the ceiling.
“That firstnight, she became pregnant,” Tier continued, “Then, in the small hours of themorning, she killed her husband, along with the rest of the tribe. From hercursed belly, she spawned a new breed of creature, things that lived betweenour world and the next. Monsters that craved living flesh, whose hunger couldnever be satisfied.”
“Sounds likeGrim,” Cyrus said, squeezing the handle of his crossbow.
The trollgrunted and picked at his bloated nose.
“Thesecreatures do not exist,” Tier said, eyeing Grim sideways, “If they did, we yetiwould have hunted and ridden these lands of their bane long ago. Whatever livesin these caves, if anything, are no more than water klopsin disguise, or large rats.”
“You’ll see,”Grim said, chuckling.
A rustlingnoise came from deep within a narrow passage to their right.
“Speak of thedevils,” Grim continued.
Cyrus’ flesh spiked.He checked his crossbow. The
