Hundreds of torches flickered in the chill night breeze. Ahead, hundreds more formed a long zigzag that wove back and forth and up toward the sky. The rocky surface of a cliff was illuminated by them and, at intervals, the mouths of caves were circled by flames.
The rowers pulled on their oars in time to the slow beat of the drummer at the prow. Song echoed back from the cliffs as the singers shifted through slow harmonies that sent a shiver down Dannyl’s spine. He glanced at Tayend, who was gazing around at the other boats in wonder. After a few weeks of rest, the courtier was looking healthier.
“Are you feeling well?” Dannyl murmured.
Tayend nodded and gestured to the hull of the boat. “Hardly rocks at all.”
A soft scraping came from the bottom of the boat. The rowers leapt out nimbly and pulled the craft up onto the beach. Tayend stood up and, carefully gauging the rhythm of the waves swirling around the boat, leapt out when the water had withdrawn. He cursed as his fine shoes sank into the wet sand.
Chuckling, Dannyl stepped out and started across the beach toward the torch-lined path. He paused as a large group of mourners started their procession up the stairs carved into the cliff face. Leaving a respectful gap behind the group, Dannyl and Tayend followed.
At the full moon every month, the people of Vin visited these caves. Within them were tombs of the dead. Gifts were laid by the remains of ancestors, and requests were asked of their spirits. Some tombs were so ancient, no descendants remained to visit them, and it was one of the oldest tombs that Dannyl and Tayend had come to see.
Remembering the customs they had been told about, they remained silent as they climbed. They passed several caves, climbing steadily. Tayend was breathing hard when the group of mourners in front of them turned into a cave entrance. After a short rest, he and Dannyl continued up the narrow stairs.
“Wait. Look at this.”
Hearing the whisper, Dannyl turned to find Tayend pointing back at a cave entrance he had walked past without noticing. A slight fold in the cliff had hidden a narrow crack barely wide enough for a man to slide through sideways. Above it was carved a symbol.
Recognizing the symbol, Dannyl moved to the crack and peered through. He could see only blackness. Stepping back, he created a globe light and sent it inside.
Tayend gave a half-smothered yelp as the light revealed a staring face. The man squinted at Dannyl and said something in Vindo. Realizing that this was a tomb guard, Dannyl spoke the ritual greeting that he had been taught.
The man gave the appropriate reply, then stepped back and beckoned. As Dannyl slipped through, his globe light set the man’s polished ceremonial armor and short sword glittering. The guard bowed stiffly.
They stood in a small room. A low corridor led deeper into the cliff side. The walls were covered in paintings. Tayend examined them closely, humming with appreciation.
“You must have watcher,” the guard said. “So you not get lost. You must not take anything away, not even rock.” He drew out a small flute and blew a single note. After a moment a boy in a simple belted shift appeared in the doorway. He beckoned and, as Dannyl and Tayend stepped through the door, indicated that they should go first. As they started down a narrow tunnel, he followed silently.
Tayend set the pace, walking slowly as he examined the wall paintings.
“Anything interesting?” Dannyl asked when the scholar stopped for the third time.
“Oh, yes,” Tayend breathed. He looked up at Dannyl, then smiled apologetically. “Just not related to what you’re looking for.”
Straightening, he continued at a faster pace, his attention still on the walls, but his expression less distracted. As time passed, Dannyl grew conscious of the weight of earth above him, and the closeness of the walls. If the tunnel was to collapse, he was sure he could prevent them being crushed by throwing up a barrier. He had done much the same thing a year ago when, to prevent him catching Sonea, the Thieves had collapsed one of their tunnels.
But here it was different. There was a lot more rubble and dirt above him. He could probably stop them from being crushed, but he wasn’t sure what he would do then. Could he shift the earth around and behind his barrier, and so tunnel a way out? Would he have time before the air inside ran out? Did he have the magical strength to do it? If he didn’t, he would slowly weaken until the weight of the earth won out.
Disturbed by the thought, he tried to think of something else. The footsteps of the boy following behind were faintly discernible. He wondered whether the boy worried about being buried alive. He found himself thinking of another day, when he had entered the tunnels under the University to see why Fergun had been snooping around down there. He had fought off the suspicion that someone was following him, only to find that that someone was the High Lord.
“Are you all right?”
Dannyl jumped at the question. Tayend was regarding him closely.
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re breathing a bit fast.”
“Oh. Was I?”
“Yes.”
After a few more steps, Dannyl quietly took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started practicing a calming exercise.
Tayend glanced at him and smiled. “Does being underground bother you?”
“No.”
“Lots of people feel uncomfortable in places like this. I’ve had plenty go all panicky in the library, so I’ve learned to recognize the signs. You will tell me if you’re going to get panicky, won’t you? I don’t much like the idea of being near a panicky magician.”
Dannyl smiled. “I’m fine. I’m just... remembering a few unpleasant experiences I’ve had in similar places.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
Somehow, relating the two experiences made Dannyl feel better. Describing how the Thieves came to bury him led to stories about the search for Sonea. As he reached the part where he had entered the tunnels under the University and encountered the High Lord, Tayend’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re scared of
“No. Not scared so much as... well, it depends on the situation.”
Tayend chuckled. “Well, if someone as scary as you is afraid of the High Lord, then I’m definitely keeping out of his way.”
Dannyl checked his stride. “
“Oh, yes.” Tayend nodded. “Very scary.”
“But...” Dannyl shook his head. “I haven’t done anything to—” He stopped as he remembered the mugger. “Well, I guess I have now - but surely you weren’t scared of me before then?”
“Of course I was.”
“Why?”
“All magicians are scary. Everyone has heard what they can do - but it’s what you
Dannyl grimaced. “Well, I guess you’ve seen what I can do, now. And I didn’t mean to kill him.”
Tayend regarded him silently for a few steps. “How are you feeling about that?”
“Not great,” Dannyl admitted. “You?”
“I’m not sure. It’s like I’ve got two different and opposing views at the same time. I’m not sorry you killed him, but I do think killing is wrong. I suppose it’s the uncertainty that bothers me most. Who really knows whether it was right or wrong? I’ve read more books than most people I know, and none of them agree on anything. But there’s one thing I do want to say to you.”
Dannyl forced himself to meet Tayend’s eyes. “Yes?”
“Thank you.” Tayend’s expression was sober. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Something inside Dannyl loosened, like a knot unravelling. He realized he had needed Tayend’s gratitude. It did not make his conscience any easier to live with, but it helped him to keep the whole event in perspective.
