Of Truth And Beasts Part 44

He shook his head, admonis.h.i.+ng himself. His task to intercept Wynn, to learn what she was doing, took precedence over everything.

When Gha.s.san opened his eyes, he started slightly.

The sparks of two unblinking eyes looked back at him from around the side of a rock. Thoughts of self-defense flooded his mind first, but the eyes were small and curious. He focused in the darkness and made out the shape of a ground-dwelling creature remembered from his youth.

A geufer, with light brown fur, round ears, and rotund body, was a harmless small animal that lived on grubs and insects.

Gha.s.san remained still, careful not to frighten it off, while his mind turned inward. He had rarely seen a geufer above ground. Something about the sight of it here felt like a sign. Closing his eyes again, he raised the image of the small creature in his thoughts. Over this, he drew the shapes, lines, and marks of blazing symbols stroked from deep in his memory, and he chanted silently.

Once again, he drove a sense of fear into the animal. He focused hard on the need for the creature to go deep, deep down. When he opened his eyes, it was gone. There had been no chance to lock its presence in his awareness.

Gha.s.san scrambled up the slope, looking about for the geufer. He glimpsed a light brown form as it shot between two boulders taller than him. He rushed up to the boulders but saw no way to get between them, and he stifled a cry of anguish.

He quickly rounded the left boulder, trying to see if it had shot out the narrow gap on the other side. What he found instead was a broader s.p.a.ce between the bases of the two boulders.

Gha.s.san pulled out his cold lamp crystal and crouched down. Within the gap, he saw a pile of rubble and a pure darkness beyond it so deep that the crystal's light did not illumate the back of the s.p.a.ce. Drawing a sharp breath, he wriggled inside. As the top half of his body pa.s.sed into that darkness, he reached out, holding his crystal as far into the s.p.a.ce as possible.

He saw a smooth surface above him.

He dared not hope too much, for this could simply be a shallow cave long filled with rubble. He crawled forward, and the rubble beneath him began to decrease as the s.p.a.ce grew larger. He held his crystal up to the wall and ceiling, which were smooth, and knew then that he was inside what must have been a pa.s.sage that had not caved in when the mountain collapsed. Still crawling, he reached a side pa.s.sage on his left that was nearly clear. He scrambled over the last bits of broken stone and stood up, holding his crystal high.

There was no sign of the geufer, but Gha.s.san still whispered his thanks. The tunnel he stood in stretched far beyond his light, leading straight into the mountain. Remnants of long-dead dwarven crystals were still embedded in the walls.

He had found the seatt.

CHAPTER 21.

Wynn leaned against her pack aboard the cart, listening to the never-ending creak as Ore-Locks pumped them farther down the tracks. He and Chane had spelled each other for seven days and nights. She almost couldn't remember the scent of fresh air or the sun on her face.

Shade loped along the track beside the cart. Much as Wynn wanted her to stay onboard, after three nights, the dog had fallen into a depression and begun pa.s.sing Wynn forlorn memories of open forests and fields. The only option was to let her run for a while until her spirits lifted.

Chane sat beside Wynn, leaning against the outside of the back of the metal box. He'd been watching Ore-Locks ever since he'd awoken. Even down here, he fell dormant, which was the only way they knew of dusk and dawn. When the sun presumably set in the outside world above, he was instantly awake. Not once did Wynn have trouble rousing him midday if they had to stop to clear debris from the tracks. It was strange, for he'd never come out of dormancy so easily during their time under the mountain of Ore-Locks's people.

In this way, they traveled as much by day as by night, only stopping for brief periods to eat or to gather water from scant trickles running from cracks in the tunnel walls.

"That is long enough," Chane said to Ore-Locks. "I will take over."

The dwarf was sweating as his thick arms pumped, sending the cart racing down the tracks. Wynn sometimes attempted to help him, thinking two could pump the cart more easily. She doubted she was much a.s.sistance, but it felt better to do something.

The worst part was not knowing how far they'd come, let alone how far they had to go. At times it seemed the tram tunnel was on a slight downward slant, and likely they traveled deeper as well as farther beneath the range.

Chane got up and stepped to the pump's other side, timing his grab of the opposite handle so as not to break Ore-Locks's rhythm. Keeping their momentum saved effort, for whenever they slowed or stopped, it took time to regain speed. Once Chane took hold, instead of letting go, Ore-Locks only pumped harder.

"I said that is enough," Chane repeated.

"I am good for a while," Ore-Locks panted back.

The cart did travel faster when they worked together. Wynn suspected Ore-Locks was bothered that Chane never became visibly tired, but Wynn knew how much this exertion cost Chane. He'd grown paler and quieter than usual, and there was nothing for him to feed on down here.

For Wynn, the endless darkness, broken only by artificial light and the monotonous walls racing by, was taking its toll. She began to worry what would become of them all if they didn't reach the end soon. Only Ore-Locks seemed at ease in this dim underworld.

The cart picked up speed, the tunnel walls rushed by faster than before, and Shade began barking.

Wynn sat up to see that Shade had fallen behind. She turned toward Ore-Locks and Chane at the pump. Were those two idiots engaged in some petty contest of stamina?

"Slow down and let me get Shade back inside," she called, peering ahead to where the engine crystal lit the tunnel. She realized that Shade was not barking because she couldn't keep up.

"Chane!" Wynn cried. "Brake now!"

On instinct, he looked ahead over his shoulder.

"The brake!" she nearly screamed.

Chane released the pump and grabbed the brake lever, pulling it with all his weight. A shriek rose from the cart's wheels.

Ore-Locks tried to reach Chane to help, but the cart's sudden lurch threw him forward over the pump handle. Wynn toppled, slamming into the back of the iron box. She struggled up to peer ahead over the box's short wall.

The cart was slowing, but not quickly enough, and a ma.s.s of rubble and stones blocked the tunnel ahead.

"We're going to hit!" she shouted, and then she felt a jerk and looked back. Ore-Locks had his arms around Chane's sides, and he'd grabbed hold of the brake, both of them pulling hard. The lever c.o.c.ked back another two notches, and the cart jerked and bucked beneath Wynn. She ducked down and braced herself against the box's back side.

The cart's wheels shrieked as it skidded to a final stop, but Wynn never felt a collision. Everything went quiet but for her rapid breathing as Shade leaped onto the cart and scurried toward her, sniffing her face.

"Everyone all right?" Chane asked.

No one answered, and Ore-Locks released his grip, backing away from Chane to look beyond the cart. Wynn pulled herself up by the box's wall.

Now that they were safely stopped, her relief vanished under a new fear. The blockage filled the tunnel from top to bottom and all the way to both sides.

Chane was already on the ground, trotting forward. He crouched before the ma.s.s of rubble, and then hung his head. s.n.a.t.c.hing up a small stone, he tossed it sharply aside.

"We cannot pa.s.s through this," he said.

Wynn clambered out, rus.h.i.+ng in beside him. "We have to."

"We do not know how far this collapse reaches," he answered. "It could go on for yards-or more. This is the end. We have to turn back."

Shade was sniffing the rubble, but she looked up at Chane.

"Turn back?" Wynn said, gasping. "No."

"The tunnel is impa.s.sable. Just as I thought it would be. It will not lead you to the seatt."

Wynn couldn't accept what he suggested. It would take another seven days and nights to return, and then what? Start from scratch and head into the mountains?

"We cannot turn back," Ore-Locks said, coming up behind them. "Our rations are low, and we will need to find more, perhaps by going out of the seatt's far side."

His expression was dark, like a storm about to break.

"We have enough," Chane countered. "It will be difficult, but Shade and I can hunt as soon as we are out. You will survive . . . which is more than I can a.s.sure if we try to dig through this."

Wynn couldn't bear turning back, not now.

Ore-Locks strode back behind the cart to the open tracks.

"If you do not care that we starve, then come feel this." He placed his hand against the stone floor. "Put your hands on the tracks."

Wynn frowned in confusion, but both she and Chane joined Ore-Locks. She put her hand down into the wide groove. She felt a faint vibration in the aged steel in the track groove's bottom, but she wasn't certain if it was just her own lingering shudders from their close call with the cave-in.

"I felt it through the tunnel's stone last night," Ore-Locks said.

Wynn looked up at him, unsure of what he meant.

"They must be a good distance behind us," he added. "But we are being followed . . . and cannot turn back."

At this, Wynn dismissed Chane's attempt at a rational argument. But Chane stepped straight toward Ore-Locks.

"You knew this last night and said nothing?"

Wynn moved between them. "Stop it, both of you."

Ore-Locks's revelation rattled her as much as it did Chane. They were trapped between a cave-in and . . . who? Who else knew where they had gone and how?

Ore-Locks walked past them and grabbed his staff off the cart. "Give me one of your crystals. I will see how far the cave-in reaches."

Handing him a crystal, Wynn looked at the rubble, densely packed all the way up to the ceiling.

"Can you pa.s.s through this?" she asked, for that option hadn't occurred to her.

Without answering, Ore-Locks stepped to the cave-in and vanished through the debris.

Chane looked down at Wynn and then at the cart. For one horrible moment, she feared he might pick her up, toss her in, and leave Ore-Locks behind. Would Shade even try to stop him, or would she side with him, as she had when they forced her to abandon searching the foothills beyond the dwarven ruins?

Wynn found herself uncomfortably alone with Chane and Shade. This unlikely pair seemed to have joined forces in a mutual goal to turn her back somehow. What a bizarre state of affairs that Wynn now had to look to Ore-Locks as her only support in her purpose.

She backed away from Chane, gathering all the determination she could muster into her voice. "Don't you even think-"

Ore-Locks lunged out through the rubble. His red hair and orange vestment were coated in dust as if he had rolled in the rubble.

"The cave-in does not reach far," he announced. "It is much less packed on the other side. Digging from there, we could clear a crawl s.p.a.ce in a shorter time."

While this brought Wynn relief, she didn't relish the delay if they were being followed.

"Can't you try to do what Cinder-Shard did back in the underworld?" she asked. "Could you try to take us through stone?"

Ore-Locks shook his head. "Not you or Shade. I cannot take anything living with me."

As his words sank in, Wynn swallowed hard and looked at Chane.

Chane tried not to grimace as Ore-Locks took hold of his wrist and stepped into-through-the cave-in. He had only an instant to panic before the light from the engine crystal vanished and he found himself in total darkness. He was not afraid, not exactly.

He did not fear enclosed places, but even for an undead, the prospect of pa.s.sing through stones, through earth, was overwhelming. He felt crus.h.i.+ng pressure, the cold, and an odd sense of suffocating all at once. He did not need to breathe, but the lack of air, feeling trapped and immobile, enveloped him. Pressure seemed to build until it felt as if it might crush his bones.

All Ore-Locks needed to do was let go and leave Chane buried in a grave of stone.

Chane tried to shout, but could not open his mouth.

Pressure suddenly released. Chane inhaled stale air out of fear alone and collapsed onto all fours, feeling the edge of one track groove under his left hand.

"It will pa.s.s," Ore-Locks said coldly.

Chane remained on all fours, trembling a few moments longer. Turning his head, he looked back at what he had pa.s.sed through. This side of the cave-in was looser, sloping further down the tunnel than on the other side. A part of him became determined to dig his way back to Wynn-as he had no intention of pa.s.sing through stone again with Ore-Locks. Another part was reluctant to do anything that might allow her to continue.

"Get up," Ore-Locks said.

Chane had never cared for Ore-Locks one way or another, but a flash of true hatred grew as he rose to his feet. What would happen if Ore-Locks simply disappeared? Could Chane convince Wynn that the stonewalker had left them and gone ahead on his own? Without Ore-Locks's meddling, perhaps Chane could coerce Wynn away from this place . . . perhaps.

Ore-Locks met his gaze. Chane saw the reverse possibility, as it had come to him in that moment within stone. He might be the one to simply vanish, leaving Ore-Locks alone with Wynn and Shade.

Ore-Locks might be stronger, but Chane was not easy to kill. The dwarf would learn that the hard way if he tried anything.

A silent, cold moment stretched on, until something lying on the tunnel floor beyond Ore-Locks's large boots caught Chane's eye.

"What is that?" he asked before thinking.

Ore-Locks half turned, holding up Wynn's crystal. "There are more . . . many more."

A skeleton of stout bones lay across the tracks, covered in the decayed and hardened remains of leather armor. Shadows of others stretched on down the tunnel, as if dwarves had tried to escape this way, only to reach the cave-in before death caught them.

Chane stepped wide around Ore-Locks to crouch over the first bones. He touched a calcified forearm and sc.r.a.ped it with his fingernail. Black and brittle coating flaked away, as if this dwarf had died by fire. When he looked up, patches of the walls were dark and marred, as well.

They were much closer to a destination than Chane had realized. With so many remains along the tunnel, they must be very near a settlement . . . or a seatt.

"And you want to bring Wynn in here?" he challenged, rising.

As with so many times before, any emotion on Ore-Locks's face faded, and he became unreadable.

"She will not turn back," he said quietly. "Nothing you do can force her."

Yes, and that suited Ore-Locks perfectly.