It took them some time to realize that they were not being pursued. They at first could not understand this, bewildered for the Gargans were not the sort to simply give up. By this time they had reached the bottom of the great cave, with the ground dirt covered stone one. The walls were blank though there was carved into the very side of the mountain.

  The runes and images in question were complex in nature with the former recognised by many of them, notably Indulf, the érians and Bardulf. The ancientness of the runes left them uncertain as to the exact era that the images dated to, while the latter engravings involved images mostly of grand events, such as a shining jewel and a large war fought over it.

  “These engravings are truly ancient,” Ronald remarked softly laying a hand upon one of them, the image of a gargantuan figure towering over a trio of figures. “This… this would be the first battle for the Misty-Isle.”

  “The first battle?” Cormac asked distractedly, “Why should we concern ourselves with it now, when we have Gargans who seek our death?”

  “All history matters,” Corin corrected sharply ere he turned his gaze towards the shadows of which there were a great many. Stumbling and walking forward resolutely, he moved away from the image towards the more shadowed corner of the walls. “This way, there appears to be an opening here.”

  “Be warned, this place appears to have originally been a Dwarvish holding,” Marian warned as she cast a long look to the images that depicted the three defiant figures who challenged the looming dark figure above them.

  Not understanding why it should be worrisome that this place had once belonged, to the Dwarves Indulf tore his gaze from the images to the shadows before them, asking as he did so. “Why should it having belonged to the Dwarves, be a source of concern?”

  He did not receive an immediate answer, distracted as all of them were their minds further inside the caverns. The first to move to enter it was Glarald, when he was stopped by Cormac.

  “Wait Glarald, I think I should enter first,” He suggested to which the Elf stared at him in bewilderment.

  “Why?” Glarald asked him confused.

  “Because I am not armed, and we shan’t afford to lose what few arms we have left,” Cormac replied with utter confidence.

  The next to hurry thither into the shadows, was Corin who called out to the lad, distressed to see him move ahead of the rest of the group. Throwing himself after them, with nary a glance behind him or toward the rest of his friends, Indulf called after his friend and the blacksmith.

  Indulf tripped over rocks here and there, stumbling after the other two men until he made the peculiar discovery of the Dwarf-carved stairs.

  The last thing he had expected to discover were stairs, ones that were so well-carved.

  Unable to see in front of him, such was the oppressiveness of the shadows that dominated the stairway, Indulf searched about his hands spread out to touch the walls. The sound of Corin’s cries echoed from some distance below him as he searched about with his foot for the next step, finding it he did this again. Hurrying down as swiftly as he could, he came near to missing a step which might well have been the end of him, or so he thought in a panic. Though he was concerned for Cormac, the older youth had no intention to all but leap down into the darkness as impulsively as Corin had done.

  Behind him Ronald and Wiglaf stumbled after them, their staves coming to life to light the whole of the downwards path. It was then that Indulf noticed just how far ahead of him Cormac and Corin were now thanks to the sorcerers.

  Near where the two stood now, the path widened into a larger hall, one with a grey path and a distant slit in the mountain akin to that which they had just trod through. The slit had to have been Indulf guessed some three score meters away, with the hall stretching outwards beyond what he could see from where he stood part of the way down the stairs.

  Still walking cautiously, as he could see that the stairs were jagged things at different parts in the descent downwards. Some of them had not cracked, but most appeared to have been broken by time.

  This left him to wonder; just how long had it been, since Dwarves had descended those depths to repair the stairs.

  When he reached the bottom it was to discover that the vast hall stretched out for leagues and leagues to either side. Disappearing into the horizon, with the walls eventually meeting at some distant points to the far east and west of where they stood. There were statues that appeared to have been carved from the earth, ones that stood almost a third of a kilometre in height. The ceiling was almost twice that height, with the statues still grand and serious.

  There was an imperious expression was engraved onto the faces of a few of the solemn statues. They were hundred of meters wide with many of them in pieces. Three of them had but their legs left, another had all that was above its chest. There were two though near to the stairs which were still entirely together. Both were carved out of the stone of the mountain-wall where the other slit in the darkness lay. The statues in question were of a queenly Dwarf maid, one with a crown with jagged spikes atop its points, with a royal sceptre in one hand. The other statue was of a mournful-faced bearded elder with his hands upon the pommel of a great-axe which had its point pressed into the ground before his legs.

  So magnificently well-carved were they that they almost appeared as if they may burst all at once, to life.

  The grand houses and mansions of the Dwarves that were carved from the same stone, and that lined the walls to either side of the hall or rather the forum of the Dwarves were equally impressive. There were also palaces separate from the mountain side, and that bore a similar appearance to how Indulf had once heard that of the Caled High-Kings of Sgain described. These palaces were decorated with rubies, emeralds and other precious stones all along the walls of the exterior of the buildings.

  The three of them did not notice any of this magnificence until well after the sorcerers’ had caught up to them. Until then though, Corin took his time to thoroughly scold Cormac, growling at him with such sharpness that a blade could not have cut through the air, half as well as Corin’s voice did then.

  “What were you thinking, you fool lad? I’faith, were I your father I would take a rod to you here and now, do you ever think?” Corin hissed at the lad who appeared amazed by the force of the older man’s reprimand.

  “But you are not my father,” Cormac snapped with equal fury, fulminating indignantly at the manner in which his hero was addressing him.

  Discomfited by the sight and sound of the two bickering, when they were ordinarily so attached to one another, Indulf turned his attention towards studying their surroundings.

  Corin surprised by the petulance of the youth recovered quickly enough, snapping at him sharply, “Be that as it may, you shan’t be comporting yourself in such a manner in the future.”

  The stiff words drew a frown from Cormac, who appeared utterly miserable. Behind them the rest of their companions arrived hither, to stand about in the once great city-centre of the Dwarves.

  Gaping in awe, Colwyn recovered first from the sight of the opulent city-forum, uttering reverently. “None of the cities of the Dwarves in Cymru could possibly compare, with such a place!”

  “Nor can the castle of Fialinn,” Lyr added at once.

  “I have seen little of this scale of grand architecture in the Highland holdings of the Dwarves of Caledonia,” Ronald added quietly.

  Corin murmured quietly in response to their awe, “There are one or two cities of this sort within Gallia; our Dwarves have built a little more grandly though they have little power outside their halls now.”

  His words surprised a number of them, with Bardulf looking about them dubiously. He was not alone in being filled with despair at the sight of such vastness, stretching all about and around them. Connor and Meallán were no less daunted; they eyed the shadows that lay past the distant horizons to either side of them.

  Wiglaf was the one to decide where they should next proceed, heading for the dark hole in the wall betwixt the duo of statues that were part of the opposite wall. The black-painted marble floor beneath their feet was cracked in some places and covered in dirt and dust that had gathered over more than a handful of centuries.

  Bugs scattered away from before his feet, the sorcerer seemed if not entirely recovered at least in part, for he stood straighter than he had in some time. His gaze focused firmly upon what lay before him, he gazed down into the darkness for quite some time.

  “I see stairs, do hurry the lot of you,” Wiglaf called to them, his voice echoing throughout the underground city for several minutes.

  This made a great many of them leap a little, a few such as Lyr, Colwyn and Glarald smiled. Others such as Lauma and Calandra were filled with utter despair at the thought, of going further underground. Neither of them, keen to continue to tread into the darkness which no Elf goes into without some measure of terror.

  “I do not think this is wise,” Kyrenas hissed as frightened as the Elf-maids were, frozen in place to the rear of their group.

  “We have no other routes open to us,” Ronald countered at once, with a roll of his eyes at what he felt to be Elvish-cowardice.

  “Mayhaps, but I noticed that none of the Gargans were keen to follow us down this way,” Kyrenas argued at once, trembling where he stood.

  “Come father,” Glarald interrupted the argument pointing to the opposite stairs, where Wiglaf and Marian had disappeared from sight. “We shan’t let our friends go on without us.”

  “I do not like this,” Lauma whimpered, for the first time since Indulf had made her acquaintance she bore the appearance of a wee lass in need of comfort.

  Calandra agreed heartily at once.

  Indulf impatient not to allow elders throw themselves into an abyss, when it was his duty to shield them as his father would have reminded him. He brushed past Corin and Cormac in his rush to be next down the stairs.

  Once at the bottom of those stairs which curved a little in a circle, he was to discover that there was an ill-used forum in the lower hall from the previous one. There were no statues here, he discovered and there was a great deal more sand and dirt, it also lacked any and all palaces. The shadows were also thicker there. Shadows that seemed to his mind, and to his eyes to shimmer, leap and menace them.

  It was unsettling, for Indulf who wished all of a sudden to return up the stairs, to find another way out of the mountain. The others were no less daunted and uncertain of the shadowed village below the city of the Dwarves.

  “Why is there a secondary village here? One without any houses or mansions?” Cormac wondered to no one in particular.

  “Because this was at one time, the ‘Lower-City’ of the Dwarves, an infinitely vaster place to the ‘Middle’ and ‘Upper’ cities of the Dwarves,” Said Sister Marian studying their surroundings. Her gaze was regretful, as though she personally sorrowed at the fate that had befallen, the city of the Dwarves. “This was before they were chased out from this place, by the ancestors of King Drorvrin II, the Gargan monarch we met earlier in the grand halls up above. For that too was also a part of the great city, of the Dwarves.”

  “How did they chase them from this place? According to Andvari, there are supposed to be thousand of Dwarves, all throughout the lands of Antillia.” Cormac asked fascinated as always by Dwarf and Elf-tales.

  “The Dwarves were in collapse at the time, and warring with one another, so that they gradually withdrew to their secondary holdfasts in the south-west.” Marian said mournfully, “These wars were followed by countless raids against them by the surface-folk who desired their boundless wealth.”

  “How terrible,” Calandra murmured, ere she shook her head, “It seems that division is ever the Dwarvish way.”

  “I would not be so quick to cast blame, in regards to one’s people being guilty, of internecine violence.” Bardulf remonstrated, from where he stood a little ways behind her, with his words causing her to flush red.

  It appears as though Kyrenas might object, but then he thought better of it. Indulf expected Lauma to do so, but when he glanced over to the pretty young Elf, he found her still terrified of their surroundings. If it was any other person, he might have offered kindly words, yet from what he had seen Lauma did not accept kindliness from any outside her clan.

  Thinking it wiser to ignore her, he steeled his heart and resolve, as he turned to Marian, “Is it safe for us to descend further?”

  The Nun frowned.

  She was not alone, for several of those familiar with Dwarves did so also.

  It was Corin who answered for them, “It depends on how deep these stairs lead, and how deep their mines ran.”

  “Why should that matter?” Cormac asked now.

  Bristling a little, Corin refused to be baited, answering uneasily, “I do not think we will have reason to fear.”

  “Bah! Enough of this nonsense, and womanish fear,” Lyr bellowed whereupon he drew his war-horn to his lips, and breathed deeply into it which left the majority of his companions aghast. Without any further hesitation he charged forward, with Connor directly behind him, “We in ériu are no cowards, and fear no shadows or mines!”

  “Aye!” Connor supported as he charged down behind him.

  A curse escaped Meallán’s lips, for he was as unfamiliar with the reasons behind his companions’ apprehension, the old man had felt some of their anxiousness himself. If only instinctively, for he well-knew that the vast majority of them to be courageous and true.

  His great-nephew and their guard refused to listen to him, for which Ronald was to scream out after them. “Wait you fools, you know not what may await you down in the distant caverns below!”

  “Should we abandon them?” Lauma grumbled out, casting a fearful glance towards the shadows.

  It was Glarald who answered her with a scathing look, and a resolute, “Never!”

  There was some grumbling after this, but none of them would dare turn back. The loudest in complaining about journeying down into the depths of the Dwarf-caverns though, was not one of the Elves. But Wiglaf, for he appeared to have begun to fear, what lay deep within the earth.

  “This is most unwise,” He murmured into his beard, for reasons that escaped Indulf.

  *****

  Down they went, this because they had no other routes through the mountains, or so they thought. It was as Colwyn was to reason; either the Gargans or a possibly endless search through the labyrinthine city of the Dwarves, for a hole. This possible exit to the surface was one that might not even exist outside the entrance to the Gargan-city.

  Or so Indulf liked to rationalize, the further they went down, the more agitated some of them grew. Their descent down those stairs lasted for hours.

  At last when they reached the bottom of the stairs, it was to discover a number of other tunnels, most of which led to different mine-shafts. But the place that the stairs led to was dominated not by the twelve mine-shafts but by a large, sealed door with ancient Dwarvish runes engraved into it. The runes shone with a silver light, for they had been built into the door using silver with the doors themselves carved from the very stone themselves. These gates were gargantuan measuring almost a hundred meters in height and half that in girth.

  They went down one, and then doubled back when they reached a dead-end. They were to do this two more times, ere they properly faced the gates.

  The first to examine them was of course Ronald. He had a deep and abiding love, for ancient things and history. Regardless of which people the artefact or relic belonged to, he was impassioned towards it. The lore of the Dwarves intrigued him, so that he examined these runes carved from purest silver and carved into the very gate they stood before, with keen interest.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “If you look at these runes, you can see that they were placed here for some express reason, though the dialect is a difficult one.” Ronald said with thinly veiled eagerness that some shared and others shifted and stared at him with a great deal of unease still.

  “Really now? I thought you could understand, the Dwarvish tongue,” Cormac said with equal fascination.

  The look he received silenced him, as Ronald was offended by the implication that he may not be as familiar as one might assume, with the Dwarf-tongue.

  It happened that there were others in their midst who knew the Dwarf-runes, strangely it was Glarald who knew something of their ways. “Does this letter here not say ‘door’?” He pointed to a symbol that of two near-connecting runes with down-slanting peaks facing each other and two upward thrusting lower ones. This character was known as Dvar or ‘door’, it was also the ‘gate-rune’ as explained by Glarald a moment later.

  Annoyed by how the Wilder-Elf had discerned the significance of the rune faster than he, Ronald asked rather waspishly, “How do you possibly know such a thing?”

  “Because Delauvaran taught me, he knew something of the lore of the Dwarves and that of the Arns,” Glarald replied with a small smile, one full of pride.

  “This is what you learnt from that daft old man?” Kyrenas demanded furious with how his heir had learnt at the feet of the eldest of the Wilder-Elves of Bretwealda. “Such knowledge is forbidden to us, since olden times- since those of Brigantius!”

  Glarald was at a visible loss to how to answer, the angry questions of his father.

  So terrible was the father, and terrible did he appear that Indulf could not help but be reminded of Kenna. In particular, he looked remarkably similar to Kenna whenever she happened to catch Cormac during one of his many visits to Corin’s home, to hear his many tales of Elves and the lands of Gallia.

  “Why do you object so?” Corin barked in defence of the Elf.

  “Stay out of this human!”

  “Non,” The Gallian snapped with equal fury so that Kyrenas reared back, his gaze wide and mouth round. “Regardless whether you despise the Nains or not, now is not the time for such displays of familial bickering.”

  “Aye,” Wiglaf said hobbling along leaning heavily upon his staff, he came to stand by the Tigrun’s side to point at another of the large silver-glimmering runes upon the gates. “There, you see that? It is the rune for ‘danger’ I should think, though it is different from that of the Continent.”

  “These Dwarf runes hardly look reminiscent of those of the Arns, how can they be described as runes when they are so different?” Lyr demanded throwing his arms in the air in frustration.

  “Legends say that the Arns and the Dwarves were given separate runes, same with the different races of Elves,” Cormac revealed to the amazement of those around him.

  “How do you know this, Cormac?” Indulf asked of his friend truly amazed, for he had never heard such talk.

  The youth blushed bright red, “I learnt it long ago from a traveling Dwarf-merchant from the Highlands, who had sought to sell us some of his metal.”

  “I remember him I think,” Indulf said slowly ere he let slip a smile, “That had to be almost ten years ago, I do believe he left fairly grumpy when he saw how much better Corin was at smithery.”

  It was now Corin’s turn to become sheepish, humble by nature he smile gently at them, “I would not say that I was better.”

  “But you are,” Cormac said enthusiastically ere he paused to calm himself, his child-like excitement once again in hand as he flushed a brighter shade of scarlet than before. “I mean, you were a better smith, your work finer to the eye than his in appearance.”

  His eagerness was reminiscent of a more na?ve time, a more relaxed era in their lives when all had been certain, and they had little inkling of the outside world.

  Corin smiled a little if tightly so. His gaze soon focused once more upon majestic silver-adorned doors that defied them.

  It was Connor who grumped and went exploring down one of the tunnels they had not yet explored, thereupon he discovered the chain and mechanism that operated the gates. At first he did not see or recognise it, torch in hand (he had lit it before he wandered off). Wherefore once he had noticed the wheel, after tripping over it somehow retaining his grip on his torch, so that he soon turned the wheel which sent the chain rolling upwards. This set the gates into action; they creaked and groaned ere they at last drew themselves open with a cavernous boom. A thunderous sound that echoed for leagues and leagues so that none of them had any doubt that the Gargans were aware of what had just happened.

  More sinister, was the thought of what had likely heard them down below, Indulf mused to himself tartly. He prayed they would not encounter any of the Knightwraiths down the path past the gates. This was what he first thought after he had wondered how and why the gates had swung open before them.

  His action though made them all leap back, with the Bairaz hurrying back excitedly exclaiming about what he had discovered. “I found a chain; I do believe it may be linked to the gate!”

  Connor’s words served to irritate Wiglaf who responded with immense sarcasm, “Oh I had not noticed you over-sized boar!”

  Connor became sheepish the moment he took notice of the fact that the gates had by this time opened.

  Those who had leapt back with loud exclamations now took their turns in professing their frustrations and exasperations towards him. They were led strangely by Bardulf, who ordinarily held himself aloof from such actions, rather than Lauma or Kyrenas.

  “What were you thinking you foolish pig!” The Wolfram demanded furiously, “We had not yet determined to open the gates!”

  “Aye,” Marian agreed at once, “I would prefer not to venture down.”

  “Really Connor, you ought to have given it a little more thought,” Colwyn complained also if with a bit more frustration than the fury of the previous two who had spoken.

  “Think ere you act, Bairaz,” Ronald grunted exasperatedly, having been more frightened by the gates’ sudden movement than angry, as some of the others were.

  “Apologies,” The Bairaz muttered though only after he had caught sight of the glare that Meallán threw in his direction.

  Sighing in exasperation, the oldest of the three warriors from ériu turned now to the Elves, “I suppose, we must now listen for what lies ahead of us. Our lives are in your friends, my friends.”

  He was not alone who went on to stare curiously at the Elves who had frozen in place. There was an expression of such confusion and uncertainty upon each of their faces that their friends exchanged expressions of confusion.

  “Glarald, what is it that you hear?” Cormac asked ere he asked another question. “Is it painful as the sounds you heard up above in the hall of the Gargans?”

  Glarald tore his gaze away from the darkness, to stare at his friend, “We were not in pain due to the hall itself as you appear to think, but rather due to the Gargans themselves.”

  “What do you mean?” The youth asked of him confused.

  “It was the sound they made,” Kyrenas explained with a grimace, ordinarily he might have intended to scowl at the Caled but this did not appear to be his intent at that moment. He grimaced at the memory of the agony they the Elves had suffered, at the hands of the Gargans. “The sound that they emitted could mayhaps not be heard by any of you, however our hearing is more acute and it was for this reason that we found their presence intolerable.”

  “What sounds? They certainly seemed loud but not all that worrisome,” Lyr snorted not comprehending fully what the Elf had said.

  “They were emitting a great deal of sounds you could not hear.” Lauma snapped, only to point down the path that lay before them, “Whereas this darkness appears to our ears to suck in all sound, without returning any of it.”

  “If there is any sound in that pit of darkness,” Calandra grumbled as stiff with fear of it as her sister was.

  “I am not so certain we should proceed,” Bardulf said reticent towards the darkness, having heard something of the sonar-sounds of the Gargans.

  His hesitation as always, spread to the rest of them.

  All save for Connor, “Bah, I knew you to be a coward dog, since I first met you,” At these words Connor stepped forward into the darkness, “I am not afraid however.”

  Lyr was next racing after his friend, with a cheer and he might have blown into his horn, were it not for Indulf who caught him by the arm to stop him from doing so. “Please stop, we do not know what may lie ahead, it would be folly to announce our presence to them!”

  Lyr nearly shook himself free when Marian came to his rescue saying, “While we must tread down into the darkness, I do not think it wise to go about announcing our presence to all in sundry.”

  As they spoke to dissuade the prince of ériu, Meallán called after the Bairaz ere he charged after him, with Bardulf calling for them to stop, before he cursed, saying. “That foolish pig, why must he always insist upon the most foolish of decisions?”

  “It must be in the blood of all those from ériu,” Lauma hissed, in support of his argument.

  “We may differ all that we wish, but we will follow him just as we always intended to go thither into that darkness,” Ronald snapped stepping forward to follow after those from ériu.

  Few of them could argue with Ronald, with a great many of them attempting and failing to keep their spirits up. Ordinarily it might have been about this time that, Cormac or Marian might well have proposed that they sing to alleviate their spirits, from the depths they had plunged to. But at present, few of them if any had any true desire to sing.

  Cormac was one of those who were the first to hurry after the sorcerer, while at the same time that he was among the firsts to fall quiet. Glarald was next to follow, then Indulf himself.

  After them went Corin who swiftly overtook them, saying as he did so. “I shall take the lead, as that appears to me to be the point of greatest danger.”

  Few dared to argue with him, so daunted were they.

  Only Lauma dared to complain, “I begin to wonder if we are truly driven by courage, or by madness to favour the dark of this passage, to death at the hands of those Gargans.”

  Few of them could muster an argument, or the desire to disagree with her, for in truth they agreed with her.

  *****

  You may be wondering what in truth Indulf thought of all this, but he was decidedly against turning back. This was not to say that he was keen to continue, for to his mind it appeared as though Connor and Ronald intended to lead them, to their deaths. He was thus, unsure of himself and as always whenever this sort of mood came upon him, he favoured bold action to hesitation.

  Some such as Cormac and Calandra appeared to leap at every shadow, or with every step down the great stone-staircase they trod down into the depths down below. But not Indulf, oh no he was by the time they reached half way down the leagues-long stair case confident of their current choice. His previous doubts forgotten, he might well have laughed defiantly to the heavens or turned back upon his earlier plea to Lyr, not to blow into his war-horn, were it not for a great noise to echo from above.

  The gates so long at rest, jutting open above them were heard to slam to a close as the chain, grinded up and down, the mechanism having been turned by the very folks they had escaped. The Gargans though they had kept their distance from them, for fear of the light for they shan’t abide it. Being nocturnal folks by nature, they had never truly grown to love the light of the suns (or any other for that matter), thus was their eyes and sonar better-accustomed to darkness. They had in this way maintained an eye so to speak upon the adventurers and were more than keen to close the gates behind them.

  The heroes for their own part were to panic, with some such as Ronald, Corin and Lyr screaming up at them to open the gates.

  Others such as Bardulf and Marian merely frowned, with the former muttering, “It truly appears now that we have nowhere save forwards to go to now.”

  “Aye,” Wiglaf muttered with a sigh, “As though any of us ever had any doubt.”

  There was a great deal of despair in his voice that Indulf could well-understand, only after he had ceased screaming after those who had closed the gates behind them.

  “I do not wish to trod, further down,” Glarald complained sulkily.

  “It is far too late for such complaints,” Kyrenas snapped as he took the lead of their group and encouraged them to follow him.

  This they did, as they trod down the steps that stretched out to either side endlessly and down even more endlessly.

  If Indulf had to guess where they were headed, it seemed to his mind the underworld. For only the route to that place, could stretch so far down.

  He was proven in part wrong when they at last after several hours of wearying descent reached the bottom of the stairs. There they discovered strangely grey-sand and dark dirt, with there being to either side of them grey bubbling lakes that yawned outwards to left and right for half a league. The walls past these seas of grey-water were dark with shadows, but Indulf imagined they may have been dark-blue. He also fancied that he saw a hint of hieroglyphs that depicted screaming figures and a large dark figure.

  Unfamiliar with these images and apprehensive to ponder them more at length, he was to trail after his companions without any words.

  It was then that Cormac made the suggestion his friend had been waiting for him to make, though he had come to forget that he expected it. “It feels so very, very oppressive here… you think we should sing?”

  “I will if you will, my talkative friend,” Colwyn retorted unenthusiastically.

  He was not alone, in feeling hesitant to do as Cormac had suggested. Connor cast the lad a disdainful look, at the same time that Meallán shook his head at the lad.

  Even Marian and the Elves, ordinarily so very fond of the youth did not seem all that eager to humour his suggestion.

  “Do not be foolish, we do not know what else lies down here,” Corin said sharply pausing mid-step to light a torch.

  “Please Cormac, this is not the place for song,” Calandra pleaded gently, pulling a sigh from the youth who was to appear visibly sulky.

  “It is hardly as though, I could be half as loud as Bardulf and Connor,” Cormac grunted with a sigh, eyes on the backs of the two at the head of their group, who were arguing so loud that their voices echoed.

  *****

  The poor-humour that dominated the air left each of them miserable with the heated bickering of the Bairaz and Wolfram only worsening the sense of division amongst them. This was worsened by Colwyn making sardonic remarks regarding the heir of Griogair, which led to Lyr and Meallán objecting at once.

  Indulf for his part was to turn to Ronald as the Tigrun spoke with Marian about their current whereabouts, “I do fear that we may have stumbled farther downwards than we originally intended.”

  “How far do you think we have descended?” Indulf queried from where he walked, his feet aching from hours of walking without any rest. At the same time that his legs were groaning from too much exercise, his nostrils were doing much the same, due to the stench of the dark-grey water to the left and right of them.

  “I prefer not to think of it,” Marian answered him at once, with a shudder.

  “Why is that?” Cormac asked having remained hitherto silence.

  Long did the two of them gaze upon him, then to their surroundings, it was however neither of them that answered that question, but rather Glarald who answered for them, from a little ways behind them. “Because they just as we do suspect that this place is the Edranite Depths.”

  “Do not speak in so casual a manner, of such a thing!” Ronald hissed at once, glowering at the Wilder-Elf.

  Glarald smiled thinly, his grin though did not reach his eyes, “Impossible is but a mere word Ronald, you should know this better than anyone else.”

  Indulf expected for the Nun to object as Ronald had, so that he was worried when in place of this she maintained her silence.

  Alarmed by this, Indulf was filled with as much confusion as Cormac, for they did not understand what their companions meant by the ‘Edranite Depths’.

  To his bemusement Corin asked just that question, “What are the Edranite Depths? I have heard the term used a few times in my life, and yet none have been able to properly explain it to me.”

  It fell upon Bardulf to explain what the term referred to, “The Depths are ancient tunnels that are said to have once united all of the lands together. It was by tunnelling deep into the ground that the Dwarves, discovered great minerals and within those deep tunnels that all the Empire was linked together. It was said though that they burrowed so deeply that they discovered there monsters, and creatures of untold evil and cruelty that owed fealty to the Dark Queen and her father the Deceiver.”

  “Aye,” Corin said slowly not fully following.

  “Those tunnels are the Edranite Depths, the name was given to them it is said by the King who arranged for the first Dwarvish colony through them, Edran I.” Bardulf said with a shiver.

  “But where did these monsters come from?” Indulf queried his blood a little chilled.

  “That is the mystery, the Dwarves claim they were perversions of Dwarves and others who reached the depths of the earth by the Dark Queen and her father,” Glarald replied solemnly.

  “It is why we Elves have always forbidden going underground,” Kyrenas added hastily with a nasty look to his son ere, he added, “It is why the Sagndar despise Dwarves and Gargans.”

  “But this is not the Edranite Depths,” Ronald insisted sharply, “It shan’t be for those Depths exist only beneath the Continent.”

  Several others gave him a dubious look, especially the Caleds, Marian and the Elves. Colwyn was inclined to agree with the Tigrun, in marked contrast to those from ériu.

  The sorcerers took to bickering over the particulars of which tunnel this could be, without any true guess to what this place was.

  Annoyed as he was, and exasperated Cormac took to picking up little stones to toss them into the bubbling grey-liquid. It was then that Indulf and him saw for the first time the true nature of this ‘water’; the rocks were did not bounce a second or third time as they might have upon a lake or the waters of the Forth.

  The sizzle sound and disappearance of those stones chilled their blood, with the two of them to the rear of the troupe when the fisherman’s son grew bored, and tossed a small number of pebbles. This sense of boredom the first since they had left Glasvhail was to be the single-most foolish decision that Cormac made in the whole of their quest.

  Both of them stared in shock as a tendril of the grey liquid arose from the spot where the four tossed pebbles had been melted.

  The first to notice though was Connor who stared also, with him being the first to point out the tendrils that had ‘stood’ above the almost flat surface of the grey-waters. “What is happening over yonder?”

  Several of them followed his pointed finger, it was Ronald though who was to shout just before it darted towards them, “Get down the lot of you!”

  Cormac did as bidden, as did Indulf just as it darted above where they had once stood. Though the stone they stood upon did not sizzle or melt, the little of the liquid that touched their cloaks melted the hems.

  Seeing this, it was Marian who once the four tendrils that had darted above them had disappeared down into the liquid to the right of them screamed. “Run!”

  Few of them needed any further encouragement, with Meallán grabbing Lyr to help him to his feet, at the same time that Wiglaf was plucked up and thrown over Connor’s shoulder. Among the swiftest it was he who shrieked as he very nearly pushed Bardulf out of his way.

  “What are you doing you great oaf?” The sorcerer objected with a great shout, he was soon joined in his cries by Ronald who was treated much the same by the Bairaz, on the orders of Meallán.

  “Connor grab Ronald,” the oldest of those from ériu urged, at the top of his lungs.

  “I can run fine by myself,” The Tigrun snapped.

  “Not in your dress,” Connor replied with the sorcerer outraged by this implication against him.

  “It is a robe fool!”

  None paid him any mind, for all were swept up by panic. Indulf was swifter to regain his feet than Cormac, whom he assisted and who shot him a grateful look, ere they began to race along the path.

  They were just behind the Elves, namely Kyrenas who slipped as he ran and fell over. This sent Cormac and Indulf who were racing along after him, sprawling.

  To the utter terror of Indulf he very near slipped into the water, when he was caught by Lauma and Glarald both of whom pulled him away. Part of his pack along with the tip of his sword, were dipped into the pool of grey-liquids.

  Tearing the sword from his waist Indulf threw it as he regained his feet to race after his friends off into the pool while a great deal of the contents of his pack pouring into the pool.

  Cormac for his part had helped Kyrenas back to his feet, with Glarald grabbing at his father to almost carry him after him.

  “Hurry father!” He screamed more worried for his father, than for his own safety for which his father could only nod.

  It was Lauma and Corin who pulled Indulf after them.

  Cormac and Calandra were quick to follow after them. The two of them were just behind him, with Meallán doubling back with the son of Freygils and Ida startled to see him, racing back without Lyr, with Colwyn just behind him.

  “Hurry there is a door this way!” Colwyn urged them, grabbing at them to help them along, just as Glarald pulled Kyrenas past the two.

  It was at that moment that Indulf could see that they spoke true; there was the grey dark blue stone wall along with the open doorway.

  Looking back over his shoulder he could see dozens of tendrils splashing about, leaping all around them and each of them surging forward at them.

  It did not seem to Indulf the blind flailing tendrils could possibly touch them, when no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than one of them struck past Calandra who did not duck in time.

  A terrible shriek filled the cavern, as it stabbed through the tip of her ear, melting through the flesh as it had the few pebbles upon the main path that Cormac, had thrown earlier. It was all Indulf could do to stand there gaping at her, his heart plummeting and hammering against his ribs with all its might.

  Around him, Colwyn, Cormac, Marian and Ronald stared in horror, as Calandra screeched and the tendrils leapt from pool to pool in celebration while two of them arced towards them. The grey-waters triumph all but assured, as the Elvish screams of agony served as a symphony to their victory.

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