To Rouse Leviathan, page 49
“The dry air?” Morgan said.
“It’s not that dry. And they aren’t mummies, they’re just dead,” Max said.
“The marks on the bodies,” Morgan said. “Bite marks?”
Max crouched and prodded the tracks with a toe. “Now that I think of it, this track looks like a big snake. Are you saying this thing bit them?”
Morgan sighed. “Could be. But not a snake. Something worse.”
Ra swept the torch in a small arc. “There is no other way out.”
Max stood and his eyes widened slightly. “A cul-de-sac is a bad place to meet the thing that did all this. We should leave now.”
Without further debate, Max and his companions turned to retrace their steps. Suddenly Max stopped. With a grim, determined expression on his face, he returned to the mound and began rummaging through the pile of bodies.
“What are you doing now?” Morgan asked.
Max continued rooting, scattering bodies with ruthless abandon. “We need more weapons,” he said fiercely. “I feel almost naked with just my swords and knives.”
Morgan joined him. “Well, hurry up. A catapult wouldn’t make any difference if we get trapped in here.”
Max climbed out of the grisly debris with a satisfied grunt. “Here, take these,” he said, handing Morgan a heavy spear and a rectangular shield. He tossed Ra a round shield with a spike in the center.
Morgan and Ra accepted the additional armament reluctantly. Max began shoving knives, swords, and maces into his belt and pouches. Then he hefted a pike.
“You can’t carry all that,” Morgan said.
“I suppose you’re right. I just feel better with lots of weapons. Being in this hole has me on edge,” Max said.
“Leave some here,” Morgan said.
With regret, Max relinquished about half of his prizes, but kept the pike. Lifting his new shield, Ra headed for the exit, with Morgan and Max on his heels. They stopped at the intersection, and Morgan leaned his spear against the wall. He pulled out the jewel. “We need to go back that way,” Morgan said, pointing toward their right.
“Obviously, none of those unfortunate fellows knew the way,” Max said.
Morgan put the jewel away and picked up his spear. Ra and the two men jogged back to the first junction. They looked toward the exit, so near and yet so far. There was still no sound or movement at the cave mouth.
“We could leave now. I’d rather fight Harriers and Immortals than stay in here,” Max suggested hopefully.
“No, we have to find the Gate; it’s the only way into Mogda Thal. We have to shut down the Veil generators,” Morgan said.
“I was afraid you’d say that. So which way?” Max asked.
Morgan checked the jewel and pointed. “That tunnel on the left is closest to the right direction.”
“Well, off again,” Max sighed.
Ra led them into the passage. The tunnel widened after a short distance. The chamber beyond seemed enormous. The dwarf mist drifted away into the vastness and dissipated before it revealed any end. Ra and his companions scuffed through the dust to the left, following a wall that soared up into the gloom. They walked along the wall for a long time. Finally, Ra spotted an obelisk in their path, chiseled with some twisting symbols. The dwarf stepped closer to read the signs.
“What now?” Max asked.
“It is Archaic Mhoul. Difficult to translate,” the halfling said.
After several moments, Ra spoke. “ONE MORE WEAKENS, ONE MORE IN THE GALLERY OF THE FIRSTBORN, CRYPT OF LUCCA SPAWN. LEST EXTINCTION PREVAIL, AND THE ESSENCE BE FOREVER GONE. COME UNTO US ONCE AGAIN, ENFOLD US, BREATHE ON US, O SWEET SLAYER. TO SLEEP, THE SLUMBER OF THE AGES. TO AWAIT, THE DAY OF THEIR RETURN.”
“Just cave graffiti,” Max said. “Let’s go.”
Morgan and the others continued along the enormous wall, huddled against it like ants. They eventually came to the first relief in the featureless rampart, a square alcove carved into the stone. A bell-shaped sarcophagus sat in the recessed area and above the niche was more Mhoul writing.
“Ra, please enlighten us,” Max said.
The dwarf held the torch closer to the inscriptions. ”Looks like a name.”
“You know, the Mhoul never struck me as the creative type. It seems strange to find all this poetry here,” Max said.
“Maybe all that’s left of their humanity. A shadow of artistic verse,” Morgan said.
“There’s nothing human about the Mhoul,” Max said.
Pictographs covered the coffin itself and Ra studied them for a moment. The top of the sarcophagus narrowed into a head shaped lump, complete with a small glassed port.
“Hand me the torch,” Max said.
The dwarf gave him the torch. Max held the light close to the glass and peered in. “There’s something in there,” he observed.
Morgan stood gazing thoughtfully at the coffin. Suddenly, he stepped forward and kicked at one of the latches holding the container closed.
“Now what’re you doing?” Max asked.
“Help me get this open,” Morgan said as he bent and worked at the clasp.
“But I don’t want to open it. There’s probably something foul in there,” Max muttered. He gave Ra the torch and joined Morgan.
While the two men examined the container, Ra held the light. With a little work, they got the first latch open, its hinges protesting after centuries. Soon they had all the clasps ajar. Morgan jammed his fingers into the joint, smiled grimly at his companions, and hauled the lid open. Inside, a man-shaped figure sat stiffly upright, bound from head to toe in tight fitting bandages. The wrappings had a metallic sheen in the torchlight. A strange, burnt smell wafted from the coffin. The inside of the container had a slightly glazed appearance, as if subjected to heat at some point. The coffin itself was fashioned from some dense metal with thick walls, and opened like a clamshell, with heavy hinges. Other than the half-seam, the only break in its skin was the thick crystal port in the upper portion of the shell. Morgan noticed his skin felt suddenly tight and his eyes started to burn.
Max rubbed his eyes. “Do you feel that?”
“Yes. Maybe we shouldn’t have opened it,” Morgan said.
“I tried to warn you,” Max said as he stepped back.
“I’ve seen enough,” Morgan said. “Let’s go.”
Moving on, Max and his companions soon passed other hollows with similar contents. Finally, they stopped to rest. “This place is a regular mausoleum. There must be dozens of those coffins,” Morgan said.
Max frowned into the gloom. “Are we still going in the right direction?”
“I think so,” Morgan said as he consulted the jewel. “The Gate is actually off to the right somewhere.”
“We could wander in here for days. Stumbling around in the dark with a giant snake is not my idea of fun,” Max complained.
Morgan faced his friend. “There has to be a safe path through the maze. The Mhoul use this as a back door to Mogda Thal. It’s the only way through the Veil. A lot of people are depending on us.”
“Don’t remind me, I just wish those people were in here and I was out there, depending on them,” Max said.
“The true hero,” Morgan said with a grin.
“Not me. You’re the one always getting mixed up in other people’s causes. As always, I remain a heartless mercenary, with no delusions of grandeur such as plague you,” Max said.
“You have your own delusions,” Morgan said.
“Ra, what do you think?” Max asked.
“Mhoul enter here and do not return. There is a way,” Ra said.
“Maybe the Guardian kills and eats them,” Max said.
“I do not think so,” the dwarf said.
“Lead on,” Max said.
Grimly, they walked deeper into the darkness. Soon a shape appeared in the misty light. It huddled against the base of the massive wall, like something tossed and forgotten. Ra and his companions moved closer and saw another body. They also noticed the familiar drag marks. The spoor led to the corpse and then away.
“Our snake, leaving its trail of dead,” Max said. He turned to face the cloaking gloom and fingered his many weapons. Ra and Morgan knelt to examine their latest find.
“A Harrier,” Morgan observed.
Max turned. “That’s a surprise. Must have made someone mad.” He stared at the body. “Does this one look fresher to you?”
“Yes,” Morgan said as he glanced around. Otherwise, the corpse had the same fear-contorted features, the staring eyes, the puncture wounds, and the hard, leathery skin, icy cold to the touch. Rolling the body over, Morgan found the clothing torn and the skin of the back scored with rows of gashes. Finding little else, they left the body where it lay. As Ra and the others moved on, they heard a slight sound behind them. They did not hear it clearly the first time and stopped to peer back into the mist trail. The wall loomed on one hand, blackness on the other. Nothing moved, save the slow settling of the dust.
Ra held the torch high and raised his shield. Max swung the pike in a slow circle. Morgan put the wall at his back and readied his shield and spear. He stood slightly behind Max, to cover his flank should the need arise. Moments later the sound came again. A weird sobbing call echoed through the vast gallery, making it hard to locate the source. It seemed to come from somewhere behind them. Again, the cry sounded, closer still. The call carried notes of ancient sadness, terrible loneliness, with an undercurrent of implacable need. Max and Morgan stared into the misty reaches until their eyes watered from the strain.
Max cursed. “Where is it?”
“I can’t see anything,” Morgan said.
Ra saw it first. “There.”
Morgan and Max caught just a flicker, a movement at the edge of the mist, jerking away like the glowing haze had somehow burned it. Morgan had a fleeting impression of an arching, swaying shape and then it was gone. The thing appeared slightly larger than man-sized and had disappeared with frightening speed. After that, nothing stirred and silence hung in the hall.
“I don’t like this at all,” Max concluded.
“This way,” Morgan whispered as he sidled away.
Max and Ra followed. The instant they moved, the sobbing broke out again, savagely this time. Morgan and the others ran. They raced along the wall. The dwarf mist whipped out behind them and the dust spurted up from their pounding feet. The runners heard a rushing sound behind them and the hidden monster moaning its need. Morgan stole quick glances behind them, but in the billowing dust and tattered mist, he never got a good look at their pursuer. All he could see was a darting shape, rapidly gaining. If something did not happen soon, the thing would be on them. Suddenly two walls rushed past, as the gallery narrowed into a tunnel. They fled into the passageway and came to a side branch on the left. The three fugitives ran for the narrower tunnel and turned at the mouth. They stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to fight.
With a triumphant call, their pursuer loomed up in the mist. Ra hurled the hissing torch straight at it, and had a second torch lit before the first reached its mark. He dropped the new torch at his feet and braced himself, shield and hammer raised. As the thrown torch spun toward it, the monster reared back and its hood snapped wide. A cruelly-barbed foreleg flicked out and struck the torch. The impact shattered the torch and released a garish burst of light. The thing slithered through the glare. It moved so fast the eye could not follow, the clawed forelimbs cocked and ready.
As the beast descended on its prey, it seemed to encounter an invisible wall. It jerked back and screamed in pain and frustration. The knobbed ends of the forelegs pawed at the bat-like ears. The thing lashed around in a half-circle, so close the whipping tail nearly bowled Ra over. The dust flew in a choking cloud and the dwarf and his companions staggered back. The raging beast glided away several paces, still clutching and swiping at its ears, and then turned again. The creature quieted and reared up in the half light.
For the first time they could see their attacker clearly. Morgan and the others stood momentarily paralyzed, the torch hissing between them and the monster. Folding its forelegs neatly at its chest, the thing calmly regarded them with its eyeless face. The complicated mouthparts twitched. A pair of antennae at its waist daintily quested over the scrambled dust. Two rows of spidery legs lined both sides of the mid-section. The hood still flared wide, exposing the stark pattern within, and the armored body gleamed wetly in the torchlight. The creature reeked of the spice smell they had encountered earlier. It poised regally for a moment, then slid backwards into the darkness and vanished.
“Was that your Guardian?” Max asked the dwarf.
“I believe so,” Ra said.
“Why are we still alive?” Max asked.
“There must be some reason it stopped,” Morgan said. “Have we found the safe route?”
Ra shrugged. “How would one know?”
“Let’s not stand around wondering, let’s get out of here while we still can,” Max said as he turned to leave.
“Wait!” Morgan said, his voice echoing in the gloom. “How do you know where to go? What if we’re on the right path, and you leave it? That thing will be waiting.”
Max spun around. “Alright, genius. What do you suggest?” he snapped.
“What’s wrong with you?” Morgan asked.
“I’m in a dark cave, with a giant snake trying to kill me,” Max said. “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like being underground, and I don’t like snakes.”
“I need your help,” Morgan said softly.
“I know,” Max sighed. “I’ll be fine. But don’t be surprised if I get cranky from time to time.”
“Ra, what should we do?” Morgan asked.
The halfling shook his head. “I know there is a way through the maze. But I do not know how to find it.”
Morgan looked around. “This must be it. See if you can find anything.”
“Find what?” Max asked.
“I don’t know. Whatever stops the Guardian,” Morgan said.
Morgan and the others studied the floor, walls, and ceiling of the passageway. “Nothing. Rock, rock, and more rock,” Max concluded. “Oh, and lots of dust.”
Ra ran his gnarled hands over the black stone. “The wards are too well hidden.”
“We know this tunnel is safe. Just follow it then,” Max said.
Morgan slung the shield over his back and pulled out the jewel. He turned back and forth and finally faced the opposite wall. “But the Gate is that way.”
“This is a maze. Maybe the passage doubles back somewhere,” Max said.
“Why not?” Morgan said as he put the Gatefinder away.
Ra took the lead with the torch and they walked down the tunnel. After a short distance, the passage split into two branches. “Now what?” Max said.
“The right fork goes back toward the Gate,” Morgan offered.
“And is that the protected route?” Max asked.
“No way to tell,” Morgan admitted.
“Right it is,” Max said, waving his arm toward the passage.
Without comment, Ra led them further into the maze. They padded along the carpet of dust, the silence unbroken save for the hissing of the torch. The black walls moved past, ancient and uncaring. Before long, the tunnel widened into another chamber. Ra held up the torch and let the mist fill the space around them. Soon a curving black wall became visible, with no apparent openings. “Great,” Max said. “Another dead end.”
Ra swung the torch around. Behind them lay the mouths of two passages, brooding gaps in the face of stone. “We entered by the one to the right. So we either go back or take the left tunnel,” Morgan said.
Without any warning, the Guardian exploded out of the left passage. The snake-thing flashed toward them, centipede legs churning the dust. Max managed to get his shield up, as one of the wicked forelegs scythed at his head. The mace like limb clanged off the shield and drove Max to his knees. He stabbed with the pike, but the point skidded off the Guardian’s armored body. A foreleg slammed down and tore the weapon from his grasp. Ra dropped the torch and the hammer appeared in his hand. The dwarf hurled the weapon at the creature’s hideous face. The Guardian swayed aside, moving with incredible speed. The hammer bounced off the stone wall behind the monster and fell to the floor. Morgan leaped at the beast from the side. He jabbed at the weaving head. The Guardian twisted and the thrust missed, ripping through one of the ears. The snake-thing whirled around and struck with both forelegs. The blows staggered Morgan, denting and gouging his shield. Shoving the scrabbling limbs upwards with the shield, he drove his spear into the underbelly. The point raked across the curved plates and jammed in a joint between two of them. Ra charged the beast and shoved his shield spike into the thing’s other side. With a sudden hiss of pain, the Guardian retreated, half-dragging Morgan, who held onto the spear.
By this time, Max had recovered his pike and attacked. The Guardian somehow sensed his approach and sent him rolling with a swipe of the spade-tipped tail. A clawed leg clamped onto the spear in the monster’s belly. The Guardian flung the spear aside and attacked, pounding on Morgan’s battered shield. Morgan collapsed and rolled in the dust. He kept the shield between him and the clawed forelegs. Ra circled the two combatants. He retrieved his hammer and hurled it a second time. The missile thudded into the beast’s armored skull. With a savage cry, the monster lashed at Ra with its tail. The dwarf leaped back.
