It was not his intention for Calandra to have suffered so. Nor had he in mind that when he grew bored, he might bring down upon all of them such misery and death. Thankfully, none of them had perished in the storm of hot-bubbling grey-water there had been injuries.

  When Meallán had rushed to her rescue, he had been forced to shorten Calandra’s ear all the more with his dagger, slicing through a bit more of the ear-tip with it. This he did so swiftly that none of them had seen him move, nor did they see him toss the flesh and dagger into the grey pool.

  He was to take the Elf-maid up in his arms and throw her over to Colwyn ere he had turned to follow them though not before a part of his foot was caught up by the tendril. His resultant cry had chilled all their blood, with Meallán once again showing his grit. Unsheathing his sword the moment they were past the doors, torn off his boot ere he sliced off the toe he had half-lost.

  Corin, Connor and Lyr were those who threw the gates closed with Indulf and Cormac gently carrying the weeping Calandra to safety, the two holding on to her as she wept brokenly. Their backs against the door, it took all of them some time ere one of them moved to aid Calandra and Meallán.

  “Give her to me!” Lauma shrieked leaping forward to grab at her sobbing sister.

  She was however pushed aside by Sister Marian who was to kneel down next to the younger of the two Elf-maids, saying as she did so. “Back you lass, let me,” A faint gold glow blew from her hands and onto the wound of Calandra.

  Stricken the lot of them remained frozen in place, as the injury closed. To their grim horror the wound did not fully recover, with her long-ear remaining firmly shortened. This was particularly horrifying to the Elves all of whom stared in shock at the whimpering daughter of Arduinna.

  “Oh cousin!” Glarald wept hiding his face behind one of his hands.

  It was to be Kyrenas who took his cousin into his arms, cooing and murmuring to her with far more gentleness than Cormac had ever seen him display, ere to that moment.

  His heart twisting itself with guilt, while Marian moved to help the wounded Meallán who hissed as she closed his wound, she was to exclaim, “I shan’t explain it! I cannot seem to fully heal their wounds!”

  “It is aright, Sister,” Meallán uttered from between his teeth that were clenched from the pain, “I have endured worst.”

  The sister withdrew from her pack a boot, one that the old man tried on at once, finding it to be more or less a good fit he rose to his feet with a short hiss of pain. Aided by his nephew and Connor, he soon stepped forward away from the doors to investigate the immediate area. An area that was dominated by shadows most of their torches having been lost in the grey-pools they had to resort to lighting new ones. Save for Corin who cast his about all about them, a little agitated. They were in some sort of cavern with narrower walls compared to before, that was five meters apart from one another there being no ceiling in sight.

  Cormac’s attention was torn from these examinations of their surroundings and his study of Calandra when he was suddenly struck in the shoulder by Wiglaf.

  “Ouch!” He let slip more from surprise than from any true sense of pain.

  “You absolute fool!” Wiglaf hissed at him, infuriated his eyes almost bloodshot so enraged was he, “I had thought you had grown some since your departure from Glasvhail but it appears I was mistaken!” Tugging at his beard with his other hand, he tore out some small threads of white hair from his chin such was the rage that had overtaken him. “Lad, we may not have told you not to touch anything, but that did not mean we wished for you to play and do as you pleased!”

  Each of his words was as a blade through Cormac’s heart. He had thought the shame he had felt at the sight of Meallán wounded and Calandra sobbing against Kyrenas’ chest to be the worst feeling in the world. That was proven false with every angry word that Wiglaf uttered.

  Lowering his gaze from that of the sorcerer, he could feel some of his confidence newly won from the battle with the Erde-Wyrm eaten away, to be left with a sense of failure. It was a sensation that he was quite accustomed to, from his days in Glasvhail.

  “As to you Indulf, if Cormac was determined to act as a child, it fell upon you to pull him back and remind him to comport himself,” Wiglaf scolded sharply, each word punctuated with fury.

  “But I- how were we to know that that grey-water was alive?” Indulf queried in exasperation, not willing to take the scolding without defending himself a little.

  “That is enough Wiglaf, I do agree that they shan’t be blamed for their ignorance,” Colwyn intervened gently gripping the old sorcerer’s shoulder.

  Wiglaf grumbled beneath his breath, in possession of a fierce temper he turned away then. He appeared older and more bent than before, his eyes briefly going to Calandra whom he gazed upon with pity. Wiping at his eyes he turned away, without as much as another glance in the direction of the fisherman’s son. Colwyn for his part gave him a hard look, ere he shot Indulf a slight grimace.

  Cormac wished at that moment that they would simply open the doors and throw him past them.

  It was Corin who speaking mournfully urged the whole of their group onwards, “We must advance onwards, there is no time for such recriminations.”

  “He speaks true,” Lauma snapped with a glower towards Cormac as she rose to her feet, “Because of Cormac my sister has been scarred!”

  Corin stared at her as she raged.

  Cormac turned away and swallowing nodded his head a little, his face crimson with shame.

  “We have no time for such things,” Marian repeated in support of the blacksmith, sounding utterly wearied.

  “Nay! I will not travel with one who has for all intents and purposes injured and scarred my sister!” Lauma shrieked beside herself with rage.

  “Lauma,” Glarald began seeking to defend Cormac and to calm the eldest of Arduinna’s daughters.

  A part of Cormac would have liked to defend himself, but he knew full-well there was truth to her words. He was prepared to say as much, when Corin interceded.

  What the Gallian said was so antagonistic and defiant that it made all stare at him in shock. Where others looked upon Corin in defeat, Marian and Glarald appeared defeated, as he uttered evenly, “That is rather loyal talk in regards to your sister… A sister you abandoned, but mere seconds ere she was scarred.” Lauma flushed crimson, lost for words she was to be cut all the more deeply by his next words, “If you would like to continue to delay our journey to Iaranntùr do continue. But all that you show is how unfit you are to be Arduinna’s daughter and Calandra’s sister. Now I will ask again; would you care to continue our journey whither where we must go?”

  Lauma her teeth clenched in rage stomped past him.

  It happened that Ronald and the érians gazed upon him with troubled eyes and Indulf said, “I do think that was rather harsh Corin.”

  Corin did not answer him. All he did was to bore into the youth’s soul with his dark-gaze.

  *****

  They wandered thither through the darkness for hours, their conversations muted and few for fear of awakening further disasters. Cormac was kept firmly towards the middle of their march, out of mistrust of him not that he blamed them. Miserable he offered little in the way of complaints, and had even given his most prized possession, received upon their quest over to Indulf.

  Having been tied to his pack, which had fortuitously kept from harm he offered it over to his friend who sought to refuse, with Cormac claiming, “My arms are tired is all.”

  “Cormac, I- I do not think what happened was your fault, it was pure chance,” Indulf stammered hurriedly worried for him.

  “Still, I would feel better if you held onto Talaitheá’s horn on my behalf,” Cormac told him with permission from Marian who looked rather waspish at this offer. She did not dispute his decision, much to his relief.

  Indulf in time half-heartedly accepted, while Meallán still stumbling after the loss of one of his toes squeezed Cormac’s shoulder, “It was not your fault lad. Not entirely.”

  Easy to say, thought Cormac not so easy to believe.

  This was not the last exchange that was to be had as they wandered through the darkness, with Ronald worriedly remarking to Glarald, to the rear of their group just behind Lauma and Kyrenas who carried the unconscious Calandra. “I wonder about those grey-pools.”

  “What has you befuddled?” Glarald asked casting worried eyes to his cousin.

  The Tigrun hesitated, but in time he answered. His words caused a shiver to climb up both Cormac and Indulf’s spines. “I noticed that the majority of those tendrils appeared to be reaching for Sister Marian… It may in fact be that Cormac simply awoke some sort of beast and that it desired the Blood-Gem.”

  *****

  They stopped for the night, with a small fire, one that they cooked some of their mutton along with several of their onions. They added some of the last of their cheese, sipping at their wine and milk, with Cormac not very hungry preferring to give over a portion of his helpings to Calandra. The Elf-maid offered him a small smile, and might have refused but once she caught sight of his gaze, she accepted with a small smile.

  Her lack of accusation hardly eased the sense of shame that Cormac still held within him.

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  “I will take the first watch,” Bardulf offered more dourly than the vast majority of them, felt at that moment and all the more than he typically was.

  The next to take up watch was Corin, then Ronald.

  It was on the morrow that they at last stumbled out of the peculiar passageway into an underground city. The city may have once been grander than any built by men, stone houses and palatial buildings that were dozens of meters wide and long, with each of them reaching for hundreds of feet. The streets were gold and diamond speckled with each of them paved with stones both wealthy and none.

  There were no platforms to fall from, and though there were a few buildings that had fallen over. Each of them felt uneasy and found it difficult to find words, to describe the dirty white and grey city that loomed over them. So haunted was it that, it would not have surprised any of them had there truly been ghosts and phantoms who might have wandered out, to torment them.

  The cities of the Elves had been filled with joy, so that none could keep from smiling or singing. In marked contrast this city was so disquieting that none of them could keep from frowning, and swallowing fearfully.

  “What is this place?” Cormac wondered nervously.

  “The Edranite Depths,” Glarald murmured insistently, this time when he had finished uttering the name of the location they had wandered into, there was no scolding that came from Ronald. Rather there was simply a numb nod, and a bowed head on his part.

  *****

  They wandered through the city for hours, each of them eager to escape the large, incomparable city. Each of them took great care to climb over each fallen pillar and down them with the aid of one another, with the city seemingly endless.

  Eyeing some of the treasures that littered the city Lyr broke the silence when he asked of his friends, “Do you suppose that given the jewels, we could-”

  “Do not touch aught else than you have brought down here,” Marian snapped at him, adding as a warning, “All that is down in these Depths are cursed. Therefore not even the gods may break the cycle of misery that you bring down upon yourself, if you were to take up a single stone.”

  Shivering most of them nodded, if ever so slightly. There were others who were to nod their heads, as in the case of Lyr and Indulf.

  The latter snorted, ere he was given a warning look from Cormac, wherefore he ignored him. It was to be Connor though who looked the most fearful, of this warning.

  “Have a care my prince, I fear this place it is… evil, we must not disturb it.” He warned with a shudder that won him an exasperated glance from his liege.

  It was as they passed one fallen column, one that depicted a majestic epic involving the war that had been waged between the Gargans, Sagndar and the Deep-Dwarves. This column had been carved early in the history of this place in the history of the island, so that it was a victory column. Namely the battle of Hylonome, thereupon King Drarin IV had reduced both of his enemies to flight and had enslaved a great many. It had been a moment of triumph for the Dwarves, who had failed to understand just how dangerous the Depths were.

  It was Ronald who wondered as they paused before the shattered column, in order to ask of his companions, “Why did they come down to this place? Surely the Dwarves, knew that this place was cursed?”

  “Given the greed of King Drarin IV he doubtlessly could not resist the treasures said to lie, so far underground,” Marian said mournfully shaking her head at the massive column that had once stretched for leagues in an upwards rise. Now it lay broken upon the ground, stretching from the middle of the city, and had crushed a nearby palatial mansion.

  “But what could have sparked this fit of folly?” Indulf wondered curiously.

  “Do not ever underestimate the power of greed itself,” Wiglaf warned at his most pessimistic at that moment, shaking his head in misery.

  They did not say much more, but chose to in place of that climb over the fallen pillar. Bardulf was the first over, as always keen to scout ahead, now that Lauma refused to and Kyrenas refused to allow Calandra to do so. It came about that those who took up the rear, such as the elders were to be aided down from atop the side of the column which was itself fifty meters high and were not easy to climb.

  Once over the side and upon firm ground once more Cormac saw that there were large bulbous objects strewn here and there throughout this part of the city. They appeared akin to pinkish and in other cases black stones that pulsed and vibrated with the light shed by their torches and life.

  Unnerved many of them might well have preferred to avoid this place and these strange stones had it not been for Lyr’s innate curiosity. Noticing one near the fallen pillar, he was to approach it with his sword stuck out first.

  Though he did not seek to cut it, he did so nonetheless. Quite what was in his mind and spirit at that moment, was a mystery to his friends who were to never understand, why he did what he did. Nor would they ever quite grasp the evil that lay within that stone.

  “Lyr what do you intend to do?” Meallán asked anxious.

  Lyr though did not heed the warning tone to his voice, and in place of an answer inadvertently stabbed a hole in the egg that lay before him.

  It was this foolish action that caused what appeared to be the face of a man along with the upper body of one to fall from the bleeding egg.

  Covered in the juices of the stone, he lay gasping and though missing flesh here and there, he gazed up in time at the prince who stood over him. Shocked by the man’s broken, hairless appearance he was to stare for a long time at the wrinkled, gasping figure.

  “Th-th-th,” He wheezed ere he muttered, “Sa-sssaaavvvv meeee.”

  His plea hardly registered with any of them as the figure sought to crawl his way closer to Lyr, who repulsed backed away on instinct.

  The broken man who was almost more husk than man by this time, halted halfway to Lyr, away from the egg he had burst from and fallen to the ground from. His breaths came more and more haltingly, until at last he died.

  The light faded from his eyes and the heroes stared, gaping for a moment.

  “What in the name of Scota Gold-Hair has happened to him?” Indulf gasped eyes wide as saucers and mouth even rounder, as his lips trembled with fright.

  Looking from the broken figure to the other eggs, Ronald was the first to recover from his shock, saying to his comrades, “We must flee this place at once! I fear that this is no ordinary village but rather a nesting ground.”

  At his words a few sought to retreat with him, but others such as Lauma and Glarald attempted to assist Lyr in his present madness.

  “We cannot leave these poor devils in those eggs,” Lauma argued looking about them in disgust, “We have an obligation to at least tear the eggs open to see if we could save some of them.”

  “And what if they are fully evolved into whatever it is those eggs, are twisting them into? See that man, it appears as though he had mandibles growing from either side of his jaw,” Ronald pointed out poking at the offending growing mandibles of the corpse with his staff.

  “All the more reason to end the suffering of these poor men,” Lyr persisted hurrying away with the two Elves in hot pursuit.

  “Wait! Prince Lyr, I do not think this wise,” Connor protested for the first time, he stood up to his liege and was of a different mind to him.

  But none of the three would heed their words.

  It happened that as they neared the eggs near to the distant steps that lay at the edge of the darkened city, where the largest clutch of eggs were the shadows descended upon them. From the darkness all around them, from beside the eggs and up above came the most horrible figures their eyes ever beheld. None of them had ever seen such twisted figures, such evil-perverted monsters that had such madness in their eyes as to frighten even the most twisted of wraiths or demons.

  They were ungainly creatures, with large mandibles, man-like upper bodies with claws in place of arms and the lower body and six spindly legs of a spider. They slunk hither from the shadows, not unlike a predator stalking its prey.

  Those eggs that were not already smashed open by the foolish trio who had carve holes in them, were in some cases torn open by these creatures. Others threw themselves upon the corpses of their ‘children’ and began to devour them.

  Such was the force of their gluttony that they let nothing get in the way of their hunger and even in some cases tore into one another, in a display of open gluttony.

  Trembling before them, several of their ranks were to decide then to follow the example of Kyrenas, who seizing Calandra and Glarald’s wrists began to flee up the large steps.

  This only drew the attention of the monsters to them, as a few moved in the direction of Colwyn, who stood by Wiglaf and shook his torch at them in response. It was a futile gesture for one of the claws soon cut the torch near the base apart.

  Frightened by this, the prince of Gwyneira retreated for fear of the mandibles of one of the creatures that loomed over him.

  By this time, Cormac had retreated with the others towards the stairs, with Corin the one who pulled him and Indulf behind him, just as Lauma notched and released an arrow upon one of those near to them. The point of the arrow found its mark, cutting through the air as a bolt of lightning through the night sky. The whistling sound it made could well have been that released by a flute or lute.

  The foe that stood to one side and had cut its way towards them, let loose a terrible shriek of pain one that made the very foundations of the Edranite Depths tremble and quake, such was the anger that it felt. The arrow it extracted by virtue of its long mandibles tearing at its own flesh, with nary a care for its own better health. At its roar of fury, the Elves cringed and the rest of them backed away.

  Snapping in fury with the broken remains of the missile left to either side of it, it leapt at the poor cringing Lauma and might well have brought some foul hurt upon her. If it were not for the courage and swift-action of Ronald none of them had any doubt that the Elf-maid might well have perished then.

  Previously he had not utilised a great deal of the magic that lay stored deep within his very being, but at that moment he did just that. The burst of fire that escaped from the crystal atop his staff was unexpected and though the half-spider lay melted in a pool of black flesh against the wall of the stairway. Little was achieved in regards to the other beasts that suddenly aware of the danger, posed by the Tigrun lurched and leapt forward.

  Some were to slash and hew wherefore one of them leapt towards Glarald and slit a large hole to the side of his arm, breaking his own bow in half. Another was to spew some sort of green melting liquid that when it struck Corin’s buckler melted a great deal of it.

  Tossing it aside, just as Bardulf and Connor both struck out at the nearest of the beasts to them found to their dismay a heartbeat later, their blades broken upon the ground.

  Stunned they fell back, with great cries to the others to escape with them.

  Shuddering at the sight of the beasts, spewing that strange melting saliva, and slashing at stone and devouring even their injured left Cormac feeling ill, he was to come near to tripping up his way after Indulf. The older lad in the past had comported himself as one who was half mad. Yet now his courage was forgotten along with his previous battle-rage so that he took flight also.

  Lyr it was who stood the bravest against the creatures, buying time alongside his noble great-uncle both of whom soon lost their swords to the beasts as their companions had.

  What was the greatest source of shock to all of them happened when Wiglaf blasted at one with fire it was a much more muted flame than that of his apprentice. The vigour of his magic having died down, due to his wounds distracting him once more, so that he stumbled back. He might well have fallen that day, were it not for Corin seizing him to pull him up the stairs with little effort.

  The chaos was worsening with each second that passed, and Cormac could see no end to it. His sense of panic was worsened when one of the strange beasts leapt at him, slashing with its left claw along his left arm, which he had raised instinctively to shield himself.

  Liquid-fire raced through the whole of his being, it consumed him as he almost fell to his knees grasping at his arm. The whole of his being was burnt away in that instant, as he held tightly to the limb that troubled him so.

  “Cormac!” Corin called out.

  At the same time that Cormac crumpled to the ground in pain, to one side Marian was not neglected by the beasts. One of them spewed its terrible saliva at her when she nimbly evaded the mandibles and claws of the beast. The saliva took her by surprise, so that she let out such a screech of pain as to rival that of the half-spider from earlier.

  Clutching at her shoulder she might well have crumpled to the ground herself were it not for Corin.

  Brave as no other man could have been, the father of Daegan showed where she had inherited her vast stores of valour at that moment. Leaping madly to his friend’s side, he it was who was to duck beneath the claw of the creature before the youth, grabbing Cormac and pulling him away.

  Though the youth could not have been the lightest of people, he was thrown over to Bardulf. The Wolfram handled him with care and yet appeared utterly terrified just as the rest of them were. Corin it was who seized Marian, to rescue her from the half-spider that had wounded her so.

  Corin was to flee up the stairs with the beasts in hot-pursuit of them, saliva dripping from their mouths as they glared hungrily at the heroes. Parts of the stairs melted where their saliva touched them.

  Near the top of the stairs there was a large boulder to one side of the stair-case. It was held in place by several small stones, each of which was melted by Ronald who worked swiftly so that the boulder rolled forward to block the stairway.

  By this time the rest of them had barely managed to reach the summit, just as the boulder rolled into place.

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