“We call it Python, an Old One, elder spawn of the Primordials. Its shifting bulk fills the lava tubes you looked down before.” The name resounded in Pyrrha’s mind. A name from her dreams, of long back.
No. Not this …
I TURN WITH YOU. A nightmare almost forgotten.
Themis beckoned her to follow, and Pyrrha did, her feet seeming to move of their own accord. Was this the call of her dreams?
Themis led her back to one of the side tunnels, pausing to claim a torch out of a sconce, then handed it to her. “We keep Python well fed, so it is not like to hunt you.” Well fed? The import of her meaning settled upon Pyrrha like a weight. They offered the drakon human sacrifices.
“I scour the countryside for murderers, bandits, and rapists,” Themis said, in answer to Pyrrha’s unspoken question. “You know, as word has spread of it, I’ve found men have become more likely to keep both swords and phalluses sheathed.”
Pyrrha couldn’t think of much to say to that. Perhaps Themis justified the sacrifices however she could. Or perhaps she actually did offer a service to her lands. “What do I do?”
“Within the tunnels, pools of its seeping power gather. Go and have a sip. If you live, your Sight may become stronger, clearer. You may be more you.” Themis shrugged. “Or turn back and flee, retreating into whatever shadows you crawled out from.” With that, the Titan drifted away. Perhaps she already knew what choice Pyrrha would make.
Perhaps that was the benefit of Oracular Sight. Pyrrha, though, lingered, staring at the cloudy waters. ‘You may be more you.’ What did that even mean? Was the future Themis foresaw for Pyrrha the one she should want for herself? But she had not come here to turn back. That had never been a real possibility.
Grimacing, Pyrrha slunk into the cavern, keeping the torch high behind herself to avoid spoiling her night vision. She had not gone far when the sound of something immense slithering over stone in the far distance came to her. She drew to a sudden stop, frozen in place. This had been her worst idea yet. Enodia had never said aught about coming to Delphi.
Dreams of this place had brought her here, and because of them, she was now going to become food for a drakon. Huh. What if Themis had lied about the nature of the sacrifices? Oh, shit. The idea, once it had occurred, refused to leave, even as it intensified the chill sweat on her back. What if the Titan actually sent men and women into these tunnels thinking to claim draconic power, but they were the sacrifices that kept Python sated?
She felt ill.
Maybe she should have fled, taken no chance. But still, she pushed on, deeper into the tunnels.
She came to a narrowing of the passage, where the only way forward was to climb into an opening barely large enough for her. Pyrrha’s stomach clenched at the thought of such an enclosed space. Of something finding her within, while she would be powerless to even move.
But she wanted what Themis had offered, wanted it with the soul-rending craving that a drunk sought for wine after long day dry. Wanted it so badly it flensed her with the need. Teeth gritted, Pyrrha climbed into the narrow space. On hands and knees, she tugged herself forward, deeper and deeper.
Prodigious, squirming shadows encircled her, almost seeming to tug at her wrists and ankles, making it feel she waded through a mire. Grunting with the effort, she pushed ever forward.
Ahead, the passage grew more narrow, and she had to turn sideways to fit. Pyrrha shoved the torch in first, then twisted, wedging herself inward. Why was she pressing on? Should she turn back?
The thought came to her, and yet her body kept moving, summoned by some … presence … deep within the mountain. She could not say how far underground she had delved, but deep.
Was this … a dream?
Rough stone scraped her cheek. Warmth dribbled down her chin and neck. The passage forced her to worm through it, seeming to close in around her with each foot forward. What if it grew too tight? What if she couldn’t turn back and got stuck in here, alone? Would she die of thirst, screaming herself raw for help that could never find her?
The vision of such hit her, and its terror actually made tears rise up at the fringes of her eyes.
And still she could not make herself turn back. Deeper and deeper, until the passage opened up into a wide cave, the base of which lay several feet below the opening she was in. Despite her attempts at grace, Pyrrha tumbled from her point of ingress, pitching down onto the chilled floor of the greater cavern with a pained grunt. Her torch clattered down beside her and lay there, flames dancing in front of her face.
She was lucky she hadn’t singed herself.
With a huff, she rose to her knees, snatching up the torch to look around. She was in a wide tunnel, but her torchlight failed to reach both sides of the space at once. The cave was smoother than she’d have thought, with no stalagmites and few stalactites. Was this a lava tube?
Forcing herself to rise, she turned about. She couldn’t say which way she was meant to go since the tube seemed to vanish into darkness in both directions. Maybe it didn’t matter.
Picking a direction, she plodded onward. Her sandals echoed faintly upon the stone beneath her, her steps drawn forward though she could not have said why. Her flesh had grown clammy with chill sweat, and she cast a single furtive glance behind herself. The expanse in both directions seemed
