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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.”
I grinned at him. “Good thinking. You’re worth something after all.”
He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a lazy bag of bones.” But he knew I was kidding.
We hunted along the wall for another ten minutes until I spotted a tunnel, about four feet off the ground. It was rough, about five feet high, and I hoisted myself up into it, reaching down for the lantern. As I inched my way forward, I realized there were dozens of catacomb-like holes in the wall here. The tunnel itself was only about four feet deep, and again—no creatures, no scary dangers in here. But the scroll would fit perfectly in one of the latticework holes.
Leaning out of the passage, I motioned to Roz. “Found the place. How do we work the magical trace on the scroll?”
He opened his duster—or should I say the walking arsenal he carried. His coat contained more weapons than a gun shop contained guns. He dug through the pockets. After a moment, he pulled out a small charm. I pulled out the tube containing the scroll and the charm fit neatly inside. After making sure it was carefully closed, I slid the tube inside a plastic bag and sealed it. No use chancing water getting in to ruin it, and we had no idea if—or how much—the river ever flooded.
Rozurial held out an amulet and closed his eyes. “Yep, the trace is working. Go ahead and hide it and we’ll check again.”
I carried the scroll back inside the passage and slid it into one of the latticed holes, then returned to the shore of the river. We walked downstream about twenty yards and Rozurial tried the trace again.
“Works like a charm.” Laughing at his own joke, he tucked the amulet around his neck—it was on a leather thong—and slid it beneath his shirt. “I guess we’re done here.”
“As much as we can be.” I stared up at the stairwell. “I really don’t want to climb all the way back up. Would you mind if I turned into a bat and flew up?”
Roz laughed. “I’ll do you one better. I can carry you through the Ionyc Seas to the top, now that I’ve seen it. I couldn’t carry us down because I wasn’t sure where the hell we were going, and stepping off the Sea could have landed us in the wrong place, as in plunging us to our death wrong place. But now that I know my target, we can journey up the easy way.”
He opened his arms and I stepped into his embrace. As the world faded away, he swept us into the swirling sea of energy that connected all the realms. The Ionyc Seas kept the planes of existence separate and from running into each other, which would not have a been a good thing. Come to think of it, the Ionyc Seas were like natural portals.
The journey was short and we stepped out of the mists into Smoky’s living room, about three feet from the drop-off. I took an involuntary step back—the sudden swirl of the ravine into which we had plunged seemed all too terrifyingly deep. The plus side was that Roz had been down there now. And if we had to go again, he could shift through the Ionyc Seas to get there. I was pretty sure Smoky could, too, for that matter. I had no doubt he had been to the bottom, and that he knew every nook and cranny of the cavern. Dragons weren’t stupid, and he wouldn’t have allowed any surprise denizens to have access to his barrow.
