117 – Descent into the Underworld

  They started at night, to avoid a long adjustment period for seeing versus not seeing. The cave entrance was large enough to drive a laden caravan wagon into with room to spare. From the outside it was a dark spot in the dim light from the small moon.

  The cave itself stretched into the hill and mountain essentially straight for as far as could be seen from outside in daylight.  Not too far after that, the cave opened into a larger cavern. The road turned to the right, the south, and started down hill in this cavern. The size of the actual cavern was indeterminate without more equipment and time than was had, but the echoes of the sound told of it being reasonably large. Not long after turning the corner Caspian used some magic and lit up his staff. The carved dragon on the head emitted a weak light, enough to see clearly, without flash blindness. The light moved about as the staff did, being a directional beam, which Caspian was careful not to wave around. Rox’s vision had begun to noticeably expand beyond the visual and into the heat spectrum before entering the cave, and was clear even before the light from without failed. For his part, Steven kept his torches aside, but ready, walking behind Caspian, letting his light be sufficient.

  Before long the cavern gave way to a tunnel. In the dim light, it was hard to tell if it was natural, or carved. This passage proved carved from a natural tunnel, as it traveled mostly straight, with a perceptible downward grade, and not quite smooth surface with wagon ruts worn smooth by use. The walls alternated between carved regularity and natural irregularity. There was a slight breeze in their faces as they hiked.

  After what felt like a few hours and several miles of straight travel, they came into a second chamber. This was the first crossroad, and a good rest stop, particularly as all were tired from hiking the most of the day, and now part way into their normal sleep cycle.

  They quickly settled into a side area of the chamber. A brief inspection showed it to be a sort of way-station, similar to the ones they had encountered on the highways above ground. They picked a camp spot and were quickly asleep.

  Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 145

  Filling in from memory. Acclimating to being underground was strange. Before too long my hearing began to tell more information than sight. I did not get real good at it, but confidence soon overcame fear.

  Rox could see just fine, thanks to her awakened ancestral abilities. I think her hearing was better than mine as well.

  I do still wonder who the miners were that carved the tunnels, and what equipment they used. From what I gather from underground mines at home, there is some terrific engineering at work to extract the minerals without having the ceiling give way.

  Where we were, most of it was natural caverns, which I presume were somehow the result of natural geology in action.

  Steven woke first and made a few false starts trying to start a small fire in a protected hole in the pitch blackness with just flint and steel. Cyrril came to help, and got the fire going. This was in a small depression carved into a larger rock about a foot tall, as a sort of cooking stove. Cyrril then disappeared into the dark. Steven then put together breakfast, finding it tricky to do with only the reduced and reflected light source of the fire, and doing his best to keep it as a reflected light, rather than looking directly at the fire and loose what night-vision he had. Rox and Caspian woke in turn, with Cyrril fluttering in from elsewhere not long after. They ate, packed up, and left the remnant of the fire to burn out.

  The cave continued to alternate between improved passages and caverns as it went generally south and down. They continued in the same order as they walked the first set of passages. As they went they talked in hushed tones. Rox and Caspian, and Steven laid out their general plans of the next few days to each other.

  Steven planned to trek down the few days to the cavern with the village of the talents, taking the shorter side route, and walk in and demand Alex, his son. From all Karen had said that was all he needed to do, and then prove his credentials. But that would not be hard for the talents. Then he and Alex would leave via the main passage, heading to a certain large cavern, and hook up with Rox, Caspian, and Diana.

  Caspian and Rox were likewise going to hike through the tunnels to the village of the elves where Diana was supposed to be. They would have the harder time as these elves were reputed to be generally hostile to surface dwellers, let alone humans. Rox had already been planning for this, without knowing exactly why. She and Caspian had only to work out the details. They would then have to evade pursuit and any other trouble. Along the way they would have to scan Diana for anything done to her. Rox figured she would dismiss the spell she had cast on Diana as an infant, at least for a while.

  There was supposed to be a large cavern that the highway connected to, and was near to halfway between the villages they were going to. Karen suggested this as a staging point to regroup before coming back to the surface. Further there was supposed to be a freshwater source. Rox and Caspian then could attend to any magic on Alex as well. Whoever got there first would have to hide for a time to let the other catch up, and be where they could be found by each other without being found by any pursuit.

  They soon arrived at a major crossroad where they were to split up. This was not a large cavern, but a carved crossroad sufficient to turn a large wagon and team in. All the air moved from the three tributary passages and up in the direction they had come from. The left cavern where Rox and Caspian were to take was dry air. The middle one Steven was to take was dry, and the right one was moist, and smelled slightly foul. Also the two dry passages went down, the moist one went up.

  Steven watched Caspian and Cyrril move off into the dark. Rox lingered a bit. They embraced and kissed.

  “Good luck,” Steven whispered.

  “Bring my son back, safe,” Rox responded

  “I will. Bring back my daughter.”

  They let go. Rox turned and walked off, squaring her shoulders under her load. Steven put his thumbs under his shoulder straps and adjusted his load, shrugging his shoulders to resettle it. He was left with just his torches for light, as Caspian’s light did not carry far.

  First, Steven looked at the tracker for Alex. The dot was brighter than it had been on the surface, though that might be because of the difference in the ambient light. Steven turned, and oriented for a bit, then set to other business.

  Normally, Steven would turn on a red or blue filtered flash light, or some night-vision goggles. These all ran on batteries and teleportation apparently drained batteries. He did not have anything that let him see ambient light, either magic or technology. So he got out one of his prepared torches and one of his matches.

  Carefully Steven struck the match and touched it to the oiled cloth wrapped and tied around the end of a good stick. The oil was slow burning, and did not produce much flame, but would be consistent for many hours. He did not want to affect his dark-vision too much, as that would become a liability. Normally he would call it night vision, but for the next few days, he was not going to see any difference between day and night.

  Steven held the torch high, putting it high and behind his head, it was above his eye line and out of his peripheral vision. The air current carried the smoke behind him and up the tunnel, while also slightly fanning the torch to burn a bit brighter. The tunnel itself maintained the same general size and shape to accommodate a laden caravan wagon in its carving that the previous ones had shown, so he had no concern for hitting the top with his torch. He set out down his appointed tunnel.

  As comparatively heavy as the batteries for the light would have been, Steven wished briefly he had one. It would make less heat than the torch, and would not consume the air he needed to breathe. Also with the right lens it would not leave bright spots in his eyes, the way a torch would. He had had enough of that in the catacombs looking for the sword, so he tried to be more careful here.

  Several hours along, his eyes had adjusted to the almost complete absence of light. And he came to his next crossroad. According to Karen, the village he wanted could be reached by several routes. The one he was on at this moment was the most direct and thus most likely to be thoroughly watched, after the main one. As he walked, Steven’s mind wandered back over the last months of his life, and how much had changed. He also watched for the turnoff Karen had told him to look for.

  This led to another line of thought, focusing on her. Just who was she? What was her roll in this drama? She had plenty of advantageous information, but was this a good thing?

  These thoughts rolled through Steven’s mind as he found the turn he was looking for. This led to a parson sized, less direct set of passages, Karen had said. And these still had their own dangers: fewer guards, more natural dangers.

  Aside from being a bit footsore from another week’s worth of hiking, Steven had no real troubles his first day alone, and his second day under ground. He found a side chamber to sleep in when he decided he was tired enough. Evidently this was a common stop on this path, as it had what appeared to be a dung hole. Steven used it as such and did not give it a second thought.

  Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 146

  The Sun does not govern ‘day’ and ‘night’ underground. Sleep-cycle does.

  The next time he was awake, after making and eating breakfast, and relighting his refurbished torch, Steven pushed his coals and trash into the hole after everything else and moved on. Before going very far, he entered a large cavern, so large that he could not gauge its true size. A vague reflection of light seemed to filter in from high above, and to come from far below. Steven knew he was ignorant enough about geology to not bother guessing how deep it could go, as for light sources he had no idea.

  The trail he walked traveled along the wall of this cavern. A few spots opened into flat areas large enough to move around on, but the path had been cut right onto the side of the wall wide enough for one to walk comfortably, or three abreast with one against the wall and the other side right on the edge. Some places the path tunneled through outcroppings, others it was overhung. Were there light, it might have been vertiginous. But generally the path was just flat against the wall. In one place Steven found the wall dropped away underneath, and a metal bridge had been constructed. This was old enough that a glassy, thin layer of rock had formed over most of it by the same process that stalagmites and stalactites form.

  As he stood on the middle of the bridge, Steven realized he was standing in a downdraft of moist almost fresh air. His torch fluttered and flared brighter.

  “Fitch would have loved to explore this area.” Steven spoke, remembering a Marine who loved spelunking. “Wonder how big this really is, like Carlsbad, or that set in the Appalachians, or wherever it really is near there.”