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“Not to mention, it would be a really good idea if I were there when they arrive.” Smoky gave me a twinkling smile, but there was a worried sense lurking behind those frosty eyes.
“Right.” I motioned to Roz and headed toward the steps. “How will we be able to see in the darkness?”
“Here…” Smoky paused, holding out a silver lantern. He let out a low whistle and two of the eye catchers broke free from their place where they hovered near the ceiling and slowly floated into the metal cage. He shut the door on it, then handed it to me. “Take this with you—they will light the way.”
“Thanks. Now all I need is a stick to test the steps.”
Again Smoky came to the rescue and provided me with a staff. It was old, smooth from many centuries of handling, and the wood felt sturdy but not heavy. A tingle ran through my palm as I wrapped my hand around the hilt of it, and I knew there was magic within the staff, though there was no way I could know what kind it was.
“What is the wood?”
Smoky gave me a gentle nod. “Apple.”
Heading over to the edge of the chasm, I was grateful that I wasn’t acrophobic. Camille was to a degree, and it had caused some problems over the years.
I handed the lantern to Roz. “You take this. I’ll use the staff and go on ahead.” Making certain the scroll was firmly tucked in the bag I’d slung over my shoulder and neck, I stood on the top step. The scroll couldn’t fall out of my grasp this way. The Velcro keeping the flap closed was firmly shut. Unless I toppled over the edge, we wouldn’t lose the scroll on the way down.
“We’re ready.”
Roz took the lantern, and without another word, we headed down into the depths.
I leaned close to the wall as I began tapping the stairs in front of me. They were narrow and steep, at the most twenty inches wide by ten inches deep, by twelve inches high. In other words, they were hell on earth to get down and left us clinging to the wall.
If I took a fall, I could recover, unless I landed on something sharp and pointy in just the right place. Roz might have time to shift into the astral—incubi had their own modes of travel and Roz could vanish into the Ionyc Seas if need be. But still, if he didn’t manage to shift fast enough, he could die from a fall like that. And given the sound of the stream and the mist below, I wouldn’t count on a smooth landing. So both of us pressed against the stone wall to our left, out of which the steps had been carved.
Holding the staff in my right hand, I tapped each step as I went, testing for broken stone, for cracks that might crumble the step beneath our feet. Mount Rainier—which we were very near—was an andesitic volcano, and the rock out here was deep gray, with inclusions of quartz and feldspar. While the stone was extremely hard, earthquakes were frequent because of the volcanic nature of the area, and could easily fracture it.
The walls of the cavern were rough, carved out by whatever ancient hands had built the steps, and the eye catchers softly illuminated a small swath of the rock wall to our left, and about ten feet of the stairs that descended in front of us. From what Smoky had told us, the bottom of the chasm lay some five hundred or so feet below. We could hear the sound of the water rushing even from here. There was an underground river—small, but a river nonetheless—flowing along the bottom of the ravine.
Hoping there were no viro-mortis slimes along the rock, I kept my left hand and shoulder firmly pressed against the stone. It was cool, and as we worked our way into the depths, the smell of damp moss and mildew grew stronger. A gust of air brushed past, though I had no clue where it was coming from. It swept up and out of the ravine to rattle by, a hollow husk of a voice susurrating in my ear. I tried not to think about ghosts or spirits, and focused on what I was doing.
Down we edged, down another step, another five, another fifteen. Neither Roz nor I tired quickly, but the going was slow, and while I was more light-footed and sure than he was, the task was daunting. After about forty-five minutes, a ledge came into view. It was narrow, but from what I could tell, the stone outcropping led into a cavern. I tapped it with the staff and a few pebbles gave way, falling into the chasm with a loud trickling sound, but the ledge itself seemed sturdy enough.
Cautiously, I set one foot on the stone and waited. One beat. Two beats. Nothing happened. I slowly edged the rest of the way onto the ledge. Again, it seemed safe. Staring at the opening, I debated the wisdom of going in blind. Roz had the eye catcher lantern and I leaned back to where he was waiting for my go-ahead.
“Give me the lantern. Then let me step into the cave to see what’s in there before you come onto the ledge. I think it will hold both of us at the same time, but I’d rather not chance it.” As he lowered the lantern to me, I reached up and managed to catch hold of it. Retreating to the wide entrance of the cavern, I slipped inside.
The tunnel mouth was as wide as the ledge, and I paused inside to let my eyes adjust. The soft glow of the eye catchers illuminated the area around me, and I could see that the cave was shallow, only about seven feet deep. The walls and ceiling glistened with some sparkling material that seemed to hang down like wisps of thread, gently moving in the soft breeze that channeled into the chamber. As I crept closer to one wall, I realized the sparkling strands were glowworms, bioluminescent and beautiful.
Cautious not to disturb them—they weren’t dangerous as far as I knew, but now wasn’t the time to find out—I scoped out the floor. Empty, for the most part. Scattered stones and pebbles. No real danger, and no good place here to hide the scroll. It would mean clearing out the glowworms to look for a nook, and I didn’t feel like doing that.
I emerged from the cave and looked up at Roz, handing the lantern back to him. “Nothing to worry about, but not what we’re looking for either. It’s down we go. Let me get off this ledge before you cross it.”
“Not a problem,” he said, waiting as I descended to the stairs on the other side of the outcropping before following me.
Another ten minutes, another twenty… The sound of water grew steadily louder as we closed the distance between us and the bottom of the ravine. And then, almost ninety minutes since we’d started the journey down, we were near the bottom.
The cavern itself was immense. I couldn’t tell how far across it went, but the river rushing through it was a good seventy or eighty yards across. The water churned along, white caps covering the surface as it thundered through the cave. I wasn’t sure where the source for this river was, or if it was purely an underground waterway coming from deep within the glacial walls of Mount Rainier, but whatever its name might be—if indeed it had one—the river’s currents were strong and I wasn’t sure I’d want to try to cross it.
As I stepped off the staircase, onto the rocky shore, Roz joined me, and we stood in silence, watching the roar of the waves pass us by. After a few minutes, I shook my head. The water had a mesmerizing effect that made it difficult to look away.
“Let’s scout around the back wall. Maybe we can find a good niche in which to hide the scroll where we won’t lose track of it.” I motioned to the wall of the cavern that rose up. The staircase switched back and forth on its way back to the top.
“I brought a magical trace.” Roz said.
I stared at him. “You’re brilliant, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because I’m the gadget guy?” He laughed. “Seriously, no matter what sign we paint near it, no matter what landmark we erect, chances are a quake or some odd creature coming through will disrupt it and we won’t be able to find the scroll again. But if we keep a magical trace on it, we can follow it through rubble and stone.”
