“What did ya see?” Ilbei asked.
“There are six of them out there. The Skewer is where Meggins said he would be, and there’s another man with a crossbow as well, although not like that one the Skewer has. The rest are down where the shale gives way, not far from the second harpy corpse. And before you ask, no, I can’t get you behind them.”
“How about above? Can ya get us up top?”
“I didn’t look up top. But I think it’s too high. And these seeing spells are terrible. I don’t think the seer was ranked higher than a G. No wonder the outlands here are in chaos. If this is all the army cares to spend when it sends out a patrol, it’s hardly a surprise.”
Ilbei did not hide his impatience. “Well, you’re gonna look anyway.”
Jasper was clearly irritated as he went back into the chest to pull out another seeing scroll. He found one, and once again went to work. When he was done, he came back to the group with a look of triumph on his face. “You see, I told you. It’s too high. I couldn’t teleport you to the top with these shoddily written scrolls if I jumped before casting them. I should like to place a formal complaint about it, and as you are my immediate superior, I will register it with you. The slapdash workmanship is simply inexcusable.”
“Noted,” Ilbei said, in part to silence the complaint but, to a degree, in agreement with him as well. While there were some advantages to having a scroll mage along—technically giving Ilbei and anyone fighting alongside Jasper the benefit of access to spells from all eight magical schools, like having an Eight, really—the disadvantage was that the range and power of the magic available seemed to be all over the place, and mainly on the short side. His mustache twitched for a time as he thought about Jasper’s report. “I reckon that don’t help us much.”
“You said you heard voices back there where Verity had us pinned down,” Meggins offered. “Must be something close enough around. Now that we got Jasper’s trunk with us, we could go back.”
“Aye, we could. But I got a nasty feelin that it’s the major and his boys in that cave.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Well, Mags here says there is only three places where there’s water along the steppe. Given we gone about as far up that cave as we come down along the rock face earlier; and given that crack I was listenin to run down into the pool; and given that the pool in the ettin cave done filled itself through the roof and was ringed with the same glowin stuff as we cleared out, it seems likely enough that that there pool we was waylaid in is the source of the one below.”
Mags was nodding even before Meggins did. “So we know where we are at least,” he said.
“Aye, we’re havin to choose which bunch of Major’s crooks we want to fight our way through. And that’s assumin Jasper there can sight us through the rocks and get us through with that infernal teleport.” He shuddered thinking about it. Bad enough to have it done to him once already.
“We could look up the other tunnel,” Mags suggested. “There must be an opening. Water ran through it at some point, so it had to come from somewhere.”
“Well, we don’t know that’s the case no more,” Ilbei said. “All this could have been cut out a thousand years ago or more, and that one might a’ gone dry by collapse any time since.”
“Yes, but that vinegar smell you’re talking about means there’s something rotting up there. That didn’t happen a thousand years ago, or it would be gone by now. And even if I am wrong on that, there’s still a chance it might run us up closer to the surface. Even a thousand years ago, the water still had to come from somewhere, and the odds are decent the source is snowmelt and rain from above. If we’re lucky, it might even bend nearer to the northern face of the mountains, where they look out toward the Sandsea. If we take enough water with us before we go out, we could make it to Hast by skimming along the desert’s southern edge.”
“Well, I’ll take my chances with the heat over the major and whatever tricks he’s got up his nobleman’s cuffs, that’s sure,” Ilbei said. “It’s worth a look.”
They gathered their equipment, loading poor Kaige like a pack mule, and headed once again deeper into the mountainside. Meggins trailed behind, keeping watch for pursuit, and Ilbei led the way, the torch held out and seeming to drive the darkness before them, the black spot of it retreating steadily down the tunnel like a cork being drawn out of a bottle that might never end. They reached the fork in the passage, and Ilbei wasted no time moving up the right-hand branch. He turned back long enough to see what Kaige was cussing about and discovered the big man was forced to stoop now, making carrying Jasper’s trunk and one of the panniers more difficult.
Kaige saw Ilbei looking and said he was fine. His eyes sparkled in the dancing light of the torch in a way that told Ilbei he meant it, despite the profanity. Ilbei nodded and looked beyond him. “You still with us back there, Meggins?” Ilbei called.
“I am, Sarge,” came the reply.
Onward they went. The slope was barely perceptible for some time, and after an hour and a half, Ilbei thought Mags might have been too optimistic when she suggested this passage would lead them to the top of the steppe, or even just near enough for Jasper to get them teleported out. But, gradually, and before he decided to voice his skepticism, the incline grew steeper and more promising again, so steep that, for nearly a quarter measure, it became slick and precipitous. They scrabbled and clawed their way up, Ilbei having to pull Kaige along in places, with Mags shoving him from behind. Even with their cooperation, it was all they could do not to slide right back down again. But finally the stony slide gave way to a slope so gradual it seemed nearly level again, and Ilbei wondered if they’d climbed high enough to be close to the surface yet. Hoping that they had, he asked Jasper to try another one of the seeing scrolls to have a look around.
Not only were they not at the surface, they were somewhere deep enough in the mountain that Jasper couldn’t even run his magically enhanced vision out into anything. “It’s all black,” the sorcerer reported when he was finished with the spell. “Solid stone everywhere except up ahead. At least for as far as I can see.” This was followed by another long diatribe about the low quality of the standard-issue army scrolls, which Ilbei didn’t bother to silence and rather just waved everyone along, onward up the passageway.
Eventually the cave bent in a direction Ilbei believed was taking them southwest, deeper into the mountain rather than toward the north and the desert beyond. He was about to call a halt when, just like that, the cave ended in an oblong chamber not unlike the space Verity had trapped them in at the end of the other passage, though larger by half again. This one, however, had no small pool and no glowing fungus. Nor was there any fermenting anything to explain the vinegar smell that filled the air. It was strong enough now that everyone could smell it, and Meggins, upon finally catching up to them, came into the chamber making a lemon-eater’s face. “A damn fine place you led us to, Sarge. Smells worse than those heaps of rotting grape skins out back of Gallenwood wineries.”
“Well, I expect them didn’t smell quite like this here. Whatever it is, it’s worse than some rottin grape skins or vinegar. This here is somethin else.” Ilbei held the torch out and examined the wall all around. All told, the chamber wasn’t more than five paces across, and it wasn’t tall enough to allow poor Kaige to stretch himself. Jasper, next in height amongst them, could only stand upright in places, and those with his hair brushing the rock.
Ilbei went round the chamber twice, looking for where water might once have come in, but he couldn’t find any obvious cracks or openings.
He handed the torch to Mags and closed his eyes, trying to smell his way to where the source of the vinegar stench came through, but it was so strong that he couldn’t find any place stronger than all the rest.
Mags followed him around the room as he sniffed, the torchlight casting a long shadow of him up the wall.
“Well that don’t make no sense,” Ilbei said at length. “It ain’t comin from nowhere.”
“I’ll tell you what doesn’t make sense,” Jasper said. “Look at this over here.” He was leaning close to the rock and shining his bit of blue fungus up and down. “Mags, bring the torch, if you please. The blue light may be illuminating something.”
Mags brought it to him. He took it, stepped away from the stone and held the torch out near where he’d been. He squinted at the wall, then moved the torch to the left, once again squinting and scrutinizing something there. He went back and forth, then brought the torch near where he’d started. He raised it upward, then around, then down, until at length he’d described a roughly egg-shaped patch.
“Look here,” he said. “Come feel how rough this is.” Mags did as he asked, as did Meggins, who was standing closest by. “Now feel over here.” He brushed his fingers down the cavern wall near where the cave came in, a long swipe like a prolonged caress. Mags and Meggins did likewise. “Feel the difference?” He went to the opposite side of the chamber, where Ilbei stood. Again he swept his fingers down the wall. “It’s the same here. Smooth as can be. But not over there.” He went back to where he’d started, rubbed the stone and shook his head. “Definitely not the same.”
Ilbei touched the wall near where Jasper had been only moments before. It felt exactly like what he’d expected it would: cool, hard stone, slightly undulating but polished smooth by the passage of water and time. He went to the place where Jasper was leaning down close with the torch. Jasper looked up at his approach and pointed. “There, try it there.”
Ilbei did. It felt rougher than the other spot. More like brick than polished stone.
“Now how do you suppose that should happen?” Jasper asked.
“A cave ooze would do it,” Ilbei guessed. “I’ve seen small ones creepin around in mines and caverns before. They do somethin like that. They leach minerals out fer food—when they ain’t droppin on a man and suckin his juices dry.”
“I too am familiar with oozes. When I was thirteen, I wrote a paper on them and submitted it to the
Royal Journal of Mining
in Crown. It was rejected, of course, because I haven’t got a noble name, but the work was thorough as can be.”
“So with all of that there wind, are ya sayin we got oozes to worry about?”
“No, that’s precisely what I’m
not
saying.”
“Jasper, if Ilbei doesn’t come squeeze it out of you, I’ll do it myself,” Meggins said. “By the gods, just tell us what you mean.”
“This is a plug.” Jasper turned as he made the announcement and tried to cross his arms over his chest triumphantly, but holding the torch made it impossible, which he realized belatedly. An awkward moment followed, but he adjusted himself, turned sideways and assumed a haughty stance instead.
“Jasper,” Ilbei threatened, “get on with the rest of it, or I’ll let Meggins have at ya.”
“Oh, fine. You’re all perfectly fine running off into the darkness throwing pickaxes through people’s skulls or lurking around rearguard in the pitch black all alone with fancy magic bows, but when I do something of value, it becomes simply, ‘Go on, Jasper, just say what you mean.’”
“That’s right, son, it does. So, please, I’m even askin nice. What kind of plug do ya mean?”
Jasper was appeased by Ilbei’s “please,” so he went on as if nothing had occurred between his original statement and his next. “This is melded stone, and not done very well, I’ll tell you. A second-year student at the transmuter’s academy could have done a better job with only a rank of E.”
Ilbei hummed, low in his chest. “So the plug is where someone sealed up the hole where the water come through?”
Jasper rolled his eyes, but he said, “Yes.”
“Which side were they on when they done it?”
Jasper’s eyebrows rode high upon his forehead, and he stood tall, proudly erect, as he was finally being appreciated for his expertise. He bumped his head against the ceiling with a thud, which forced him to stoop again. Worse, after thinking on the question for a moment, he had to admit he didn’t know. He looked wounded when he said it.
“Well, how about ya go on and have a look through on the other side,” Ilbei said. “Ya got more of them seein spells, don’t ya?”
The young sorcerer’s pride was resuscitated by Ilbei’s continued need of him, and he went to his chest of scrolls, sifting through them for a seeing spell. He appeared to find one, but kept looking through the collection for a time after. “Oh dear, we’ve only got two left,” he announced.
“Well, get to it with one of em,” Ilbei said. “We need to get out of here while there’s still time.” He turned to Meggins. “Go on back a ways and keep an eye out fer that brigand with the spear-throwin crossbow.”
Meggins vanished into the darkness.
Jasper set himself to work reading his magical sight spell, and the rest of them waited impatiently. Mags closed the lid on Jasper’s chest of magic and sat on it, resting her head in her hands. Ilbei felt bad for her and knew she was likely still in considerable pain. A healing spell that reversed the type of damage she’d had likely didn’t set her body fully right in a single day, much less a day of tramping around in caves. Ilbei had been seen often enough by gifted army healers to know that even the best spells still required rest if the injuries were severe enough.
Jasper’s voice began to elevate as he read through the spell. At first none of them paid any attention to it, assuming it was normal, but soon it was clear that something was agitating the scrawny wizard, as his breathing became increasingly rapid with each passing word. It was as if they were watching him having a nightmare.