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“I am. Now at least.” I frowned. “How come I never saw it before?”
“We can be subtle if we want. Although it’s more likely it took being exposed to magic to enhance your innate abilities.”
“Are all alchemists magic users?”
“Only the really good ones. That or they married someone who could enhance their product.”
“Qynn must have seen it in me,” I murmured. It explained her interest in an orphan and why she’d taken me in. I frowned at him. “And that’s why you weren’t worried about bringing me along. I’m not useless.”
“Never said you were. Now, shall we see where this goes?”
Our arms brushed as we followed the upward ramp. The stone changed color near the top.
Daksh pointed to a ring set to the side and the demarcation line. “Water marks and tie-off for a boat.”
“Where are the boats?” I asked. The tunnels were remarkably clean for their age. A bit of dust, but no detritus or plant life, no bones or scat. It wasn’t as reassuring as I’d have expected. It bordered on downright unnatural.
“It’s been centuries since they were used.”
“I’d have expected something.”
“Me too,” he admitted softly.
The ramp brought us several feet up from the lowest point. I could have reached to trail my fingers on the ceiling. At the sight of a corner, Daksh prowled ahead, dagger in hand. He popped around the bend, and since he didn’t yell, I followed. This section did not lighten as well as the previous tunnels. I could barely see Daksh. I had to wonder why. Could it be the glyphs were too old? Had we gotten weak?
“Do you think this leads outside?”
“Maybe. I’m hoping for a secure place to rest before continuing our journey.”
“Sleep would be nice.” My feet were yelling.
At the end of the short hall, the walls finally lit up enough to see a ladder etched into the wall. The hatch open to above. He began to climb, and I almost chewed my thumb off waiting to see if he’d get his head bitten off.
He disappeared from sight and soon called down to me. “It’s good.”
I quickly climbed the ladder to find myself in a cellar. An old one with heavy dust over the urns and crates.
“Do you think they’re still usable?” I asked, eyeing the stoppered pitchers. My parched mouth didn’t care how old the wine was.
“If they’re as old as I suspect, I wouldn’t advise trying.”
“Shame.” I explored the room and stopped by Daksh, who stared at a metal hatch in the far corner at the top of a short set of stairs. The cellar appeared sealed from the outside.
Daksh rose high enough to put his ear to the closed hatched before shoving a shoulder into it. It didn’t budge even a tiny bit.
There went my hope for a bit of fresh air and open sky.
“We’ll stay here for the night,” he declared.
Seemed safe enough. I actually liked the fact this room retained some objects. It felt less haunting.
As he heaved items to different spots, clearing us a larger space, I had to wonder how we could breathe with everything sealed against the outside. How was the air not stale? “Will we have enough air for the two of us in here for hours?”
“The stone that this room and the tunnels are built with absorbs what we breathe and expels fresh air.
“Like the trees and plants of our world.” What a strange concept. “So we won’t die of poisoned air.” Something that occasionally happened during severe storms that kept people shuttered tight for too long in small places.
“Hopefully.” He winked.
