116 – Final Plans and Preparation

  Karen fell in step with the Caplan’s “We hike all day tomorrow, then about this time the next day we should be at the cave entrance.”

  Rox was most shaken. “We just killed those men. Without any hesitation. Over what, some food?”

  Karen took up the answer. “You did not kill yours, though they were badly hurt. Food, metal items, you life. The bag was to cover your head and arms. The archer in case you tried to resist. They would not have worried about your life or pain. Don’t worry about theirs.”

  Karen knew that she now had two more faces to fade to gray in her dreams. She stepped away from the Caplan’s as Steven put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and kept her walking. Karen’s senses told her that Steven was as torn up as his wife, but better trained to deal with it.

  “That force wall was rather efficient.” Karen spoke to Caspian, taking the animals lead back.

  “Thank you.” Caspian replied. “Weren’t some of these guys at the village we stopped at?”

  “Possibly. I did not take a long look at them then. Probably should of. Would have if I were actively hunting. I must be a bit dull of edge right now.”

  Karen’s passive senses told her that Caspian was unsure. Cyrril was watching, her. She risked a brief active scan of Caspian. She found he wanted to compliment her, but did not know how.

  Karen walked along quietly smiling slightly. Caspian was cute when he was befuddled. Cyrril was just plain cute, when he wasn’t creepy.

  Over the next two days the most remarkable thing to happen was the road had a branch, and gained a bunch of altitude. After that it appeared to be little more than ruts across a forest and its meadows as the river valley gave way to mountain foothills. The road paralleled the stream between foothills and started into a canyon of the mountains.

  Along the way, they discussed the plans of who was going where, after which child. Karen had already mentioned that her information was of the two villages, elf and psi-warriors. As she had gotten to know the Caplan’s she was confident that Rox should go to the elf village after Diana, and Steven to the psi-warriors after Alex.

  Steven and Roxanne also took opportunity to practice fighting together, as a team. Caspian gave them some illusionary characters to fight.

  Karen was impressed by their competence, and heartened that this just might work. Her problem was that despite his dour and unfriendly behavior, she found that she rather liked being near Caspian. She was commissioned to kill him, and train the Caplan’s. She was in process with what she needed to for Steven and Roxanne. When the kids were here, she would need to do the same to them.

  Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 144

  Hiking though mountains, Again. It is both surprising and disconcerting how far we are and are not away from where we started. If I got our directions and distances right, we are a little over one hundred miles straight line east from Skarg. Looking at a local map would be nice, but we left the city in enough of a rush that we did not get one.

  The canyon climbed at an easy climb, mostly. A few parts were deceptively steep. The road picked up and followed a stream that wound back and forth a bit, before the canyon widening into a larger clearing. Two large boulders straddled the road as it entered the clearing and went up a short rise. The stream wandered to the south side of the clearing and into a small lake or large pond fed by several sources. On the north half of the clearing the road turned into a stand of trees against the curved wall of the canyon. The trees shaded a large cave mouth on the east wall of the north east corner of the clearing. Once at the cave mouth, and turned aside to a convenient camping spot, Karen began to relax.

  Steven was the impatient one. “Do we go in now; just saddle up and head in?”

  “No.” Caspian answered. “First and most importantly at the moment, you would not be able to see. We rest for the afternoon, and as far into the evening as we can. Tonight, after our eyes have adjusted, then we go in.”

  “I think he is right.” Rox seconded. “Sure, we could go in and be adjusted within an hour, but we would not be rested.”

  Karen spoke up. “And I have a bit more to tell you, now.”

  They turned to look at her.

  Karen put on her professional face and began. “I have been waiting to now to tell you that I have to give you the path to the villages. I need to do so in a manor that you will not loose, using my talents. The best way to do that is with you at or near asleep.”

  Steven responded. “So that was what you did to us those two nights. I wondered where those dreams came from.”

  Karen was slightly put off by this. “Yeah it was, but you were not supposed to remember my actions.”

  Rox laughed slightly. “You have never slept with someone for years. You notice when they are gone over long. Then looking out and seeing you kneeling over Steven was a shock, but since you were not hurting him so far as I could tell, I let it go, and figured you had done the same to me. We don’t remember your actions in first person, but each saw it done to the other, and put two and two together.”

  Karen was very put off by this. “I will have to remember that.” She continued. “Anyway, I need to do that now, to give you the borrowed memories of people who have been on the path you are now going to go. It will be easier than drawing you a map you will not otherwise be able to read.”

  “You won’t change your mind, about coming in?” Caspian asked.

  “No. I won’t. I would just be in the way of you and Roxanne. I could help Steven some, but he will do just fine on his own.” Karen answered.

  “And you will still be here when we get back.” Rox commented.

  “Someone has to watch the horses.” Karen responded. She had other things to prepare in the mean time anyway. “Any other questions?”

  “Yeah,” Steven turned to Caspian. “Why not teleport, this time? I am fairly certain that you don’t know the landing point, regardless of any magic shields that might get in the way. So teleporting in is out of the question. But why not teleport to get back together, or back to the surface?”

  Caspian looked at Steven for a bit, trying to decide whether Steven was just teasing, bringing up a settled argument for the sake of rearguing it, or being serious. After a few moments of the men not staring each other down, Caspian answered.

  “I expect that there are magic users of several stripes among the elves. If you have a teleport of sufficient distance prepared to do, you can escape them quickly. Otherwise they can sense you casting your spell and interfere, piggyback, or follow easily. Do you want to try to fight in a cavern where you have to provide your own light, and they can see clearly? How about have tag-along’s showing up unexpectedly? No, the better way is that of the mouse, run for the tunnels and hide where they can’t easily if at all follow. Once we are clear of the initial search groups, we can reassess the situation. That is of course assuming that these elves that Rox and I are going to go to react typically, and aggressively.”

  Steven accepted this. He really had not expected Caspian to want to teleport, but was curious to know why.

  The horses were hobbled, but otherwise allowed to roam and graze. The cart was set among a copse of trees in sight of the cave. They had taken time to sort through their things and set up their bags and equipment to hike. Steven was still going back and forth about carrying his crossbow, particularly because he had his gun, but noise of the gun vs. bulk of the crossbow . . .

  Karen set up a bit of a camp for herself. After some reluctance, she set up Caspian’s single occupant tent for herself, and she left it to air out before putting her sleeping gear into it.

  After being sure that they were ready, the Caplan’s and Caspian lay down to rest, and nap. Karen took advantage of this, with permission this time. Once done she puttered about camp and the meadow. She had dinner ready when the other three got up from their naps.

  They sat around the fire burning down to coals talking as the last light from the sunset fled the sky, three of the moons had set behind the western hills in the afternoon. The one of the twins was up over the eastern mountains before full dark, brightening things a little.

  Caspian had given Steven the trackers the elves had made for Roxanne and Alex. Somewhere he had acquired necklace chains and attached the trackers as medallions. Steven quickly intuited how to read them. Rox’s had a bright rainbow dot at the center of the doomed surface. Alex’s had a very dim dot partway down the side and to the southwest, as oriented to the compass. The necklace was long enough to look at the medallions without removing the chain from around one’s neck. Caspian had thoughtfully arranged the trackers on independent loop-strands. Steven unhooked Rox’s from the neck chain, and hooked it into the pocket of his jacket.

  Rox was given the pair for Diana and Steven. Diana’s dim dot was to the southeast. Like Steven she put the chain on and separated Steven’s from Diana’s and put it in a pocket.

  Along the way, Steven had gathered three sticks that were of a length to use as torches. He had some strips of canvas that he had acquired and soaked in lamp oil carried in a sealed leather bag. As he sat he wrapped some strips around the end of one of the sticks to use as a torch. He took two more sticks and secured them to his pack to use if this one he had burned to un-usability. He expected to use one each for about a day before it was little more than kindling for cooking on and maybe starting the next one.

  Caspian declined any torches, stating that he would use his magic. Rox had been practicing with her heat-vision and was going to work with it.

  Steven sat across the small fire from Caspian, Rox to his right, Karen to his left: they were conducting a final briefing and discussion. Karen was discussing the path they would have to travel. As Caspian and Rox began to digest and brainstorm about getting Diana out of the village, Karen turned to Steven.

  “You have the harder task. The people in the village you are going to – there is no way you can stand up to them in a concerted fight anymore than you could stand up to me long term. You have seen what I can do, with my talents. There are people in the village you are going to who may be orders of magnitude stronger than me.” Karen was deadly serious about this.

  “So how do I fight them? Hit and run, and don’t let them pin me down?” A tinge of negativity lurked in Steven’s mood, partly from the sense that Karen might be bragging just now.

  Karen shook her head. “You don’t fight them. You use a different tact, and the one thing that should convince them. Your blood-right to your son.”

  “Just walk in and ask?”

  “Exactly.” Karen could sense Steven’s dubious assessment of the situation, or of her information. But she had already put this idea into his subconscious. She threw down her next play.

  “Look. My grandmother’s grandmother came from them. They value family above all else. Twelve generations ago they broke out of slavery. Ten generations ago they came to this world. That sense of family is the primary reason for both of those. You assert your family and it should be a stronger means of battle than your physical skills. Your preferred weapons are unavailable. Your army is not here to back you up. But just by being the father of your son, you have already won. Those who are true to culture will stand with you, against those not true.”

  Steven considered this. At the same time, he decided not to take the crossbow.

  “And if I do have to fight?”

  “They are as human as you an me. Still soft and squishy with a few hard parts. Your sword does not stop psionics, so be careful with that. Most psionics do not use magic. I haven’t heard of any locally that do. If they attack you with psionics, just keep your mind as focused as you can, like any other attack and injury. Almost no non-psionics can withstand direct psionic attack.” Karen was a professionally matter-of-fact as she could be.

  Steven accepted this, as he put the prepared torch away.

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.”

118 – Hiking and Caving

  The trail Steven traveled finally left the cavern just before lunch. Not far beyond, he found a carved stair leading down, and a second passage that had a faint odor of decay.

  Karen had said to take the stair, and a memory from somewhere said that when underground always follow your nose. The odds of something being nasty increased with the smell.

  Steven stopped for lunch, in process he drained the last of his water pack, and packed away his trash. The elfin-made gear was comfortable, but its newness still made it stiff. Once done and packed, Steven started down the stairs. They did not descend straight, but slowly curved and then turned back on them selves. Also every so many there was a landing, allowing three steps on the same level. Steve did not think to count the stairs, until he was already a significant way down. Along the way he did wonder who had carved this trail and to what purpose.

  After several sharp turns, as he descended, something landed on Steven’s back and they both went tumbling for a ways. Steven’s torch stopped a few stairs farther, on a landing. A creature comprised more of attitude than size came scrambling up at Steven as he started to get up, and tried to get Steven’s neck into its smelly, toothy mouth. Steven managed to get his right forearm in the in its mouth but he could feel this things bite-strength through his gauntlet and vambrace. Its large paws and small body were scratching and thrashing, trying to do damage and bring him down. It kept catching on Steven’s harness and some pouches.

  With this thing on him, Steven could not get his feet under him. So he rolled to his right, and managed to get it between him and the wall, and leverage its head away with his arm.

  With his free hand Steven managed to find his ka-bar knife on his belt. He pulled it out and the things thrashing almost caused Steven to stab himself, then nearly to drop the weapon. Steven got a good grip, and swung, stabbing into the side of the thing repeatedly. Blood began to flow, things smelled worse, and Steven felt his blade hit bone a few times.

  After several hits, the creature changed from thrashing to injure, to escape. It scrambled out from under Steven and across him up the stairs. Growling and yelping as it crawled over, it scratched Steven’s ear and cheek. Steven could hear it laboring up the stairs as he picked up his torch. He felt blood on his fingers, but had no idea whose it was.

  After retrieving the torch, he followed the thing back up the stairs, noticing its blood trail as a wet stain on the stone. It did not get far. About twenty steps up, it collapsed and was bleeding from its side. Some of its bowels had come out, and blood came from its mouth and nose. Looking it over, Steven guessed its closest Terran relative would be a badger, or a wolverine. Whatever it was Steven grabbed its huffing snout and slit its throat wide, finishing the job of killing it.

  “Don’t eat anything that attacks you.” Caspian had said that early on. Steven remembered his father had once told him that meat-eaters taste bad. Someone in the Corp’s had told him that any fur-bearing animal was edible. Well, he had no desire to taste this thing, but there was no sense leaving it here. After cleaning his knife on it then putting it away, Steven took hold of the creature’s tail and began dragging it. He got to the bottom after three landings and found the room Karen had next told him about.

  This branched off from the cavern he had spent the morning traveling along. As such, the path stopped one pace into the chamber, and then the wall dropped away followed by a big second step. Except for a litter of pillars that came up out of the abyss and extended beyond the light cast by his torch. Steven kicked the dead thing over the edge. After a 27 count the sound of its first thump echoed back with some gravel sounds, and more thumping. Then a cluster of three pillars collapsed out of sight with the dull glumps of falling crusty dirt where the body of the thing he carelessly dropped ran into the bases. For a moment Steven realized how dumb he had been to carelessly dump the body this way, as he might have destroyed his path. But fortunately he did not. Looking across the room Steven planned his way across, as far as he could see.

  Karen had said these crusty pillars were safe enough to walk on, but not to stand on. Each pillar was a bug colony, and would collapse as weight was applied. The skittering of insects was heard as this happened. For whatever reason, the pillars did not extend up far beyond the level of the trail.

  Steven had not been looking forward to this.

  “The trick is to keep moving. The bugs are deadly, and the pillar will collapse under you.” Steven recited this to shore up his courage.

  Steven took a deep breath, plotted his course, and started. The crunch of the pillars shell taking his weight was mildly disconcerting.

  Sure enough, the pillar began to fall as his weight rested on it. Steven stepped onto the next one and walked quickly across. Each pillar beginning to fall under his weight. To add to the fun, some pillars were slightly higher and lower than the others. Steven had to concentrate to keep his balance and keep moving in a forward direction.

  The glumping of pillars and chatter of bugs got louder as Steven went. After almost one hundred paces Steven came to the end and to firm ground. This not quite flat outcrop was slightly bigger than the one he started from on the other side.

  Once on solid ground Steven stopped, put his hands on his knees for a moment, and took a deep breath. He looked back for a bit. Where he had crossed was a line of emptiness. The pillars had collapsed, and sometimes collapsed neighbors. Then he saw a bug.

  It crawled around the side of a pillar, was about the size of a newborn puppy, and looked like a nightmare version of a praying mantis crossed with a roach. It crawled around its pillar and disappeared. Steven decided not to stick around, as the chittering of the bugs increased.

  Moving to his left from his course of travel Steven found the entrance to the next passage.  Karen had said he would find water in a chamber not far from here. The water would be drinkable. After a few turns and corners, what Steven found was a mineral hot spring and strange lichen that glowed.

  “Hum. Bio-luminescent.” Steven looked at a patch, and touched it. There was no visible residue. Aside from the luminescence, Steven figured they processed what CO2 was here into O2. He turned to the rest of the room.

  The chamber was dim compared to daylight, but bright compared to what he had been in the last two and a half days. A pool occupied about two thirds of it, with the acrid smell of a mineral spring filing the rest. His torch smoked more, indicating less breathable air, near the mineral spring outlets. The flat ground was damp, and stretched to either side as a kind of curving floor. Surprisingly the roof of the chamber was low compared to the previous ones he had been in. Water seeped out of two of the walls, but where one was covered with glowing lichen, the other was not. The glowing lichen covered almost every other surface, to the waters edge. The pool looked to have a rippling surface, but the light was not enough to do more than glint. The chamber exited on the far side, with water flowing out the exit.

  “Oh, boy. Got to get my feet wet,” Steven muttered. “Wish I had a long stick to test the depth.”

  Steven had hoped to find potable water here, but wasn’t sure from the smell. But he decided to test both in-flows. On his right the water smelled bad, seemed to scour the rocks clean, and it was tepid. He put his fingers in it, and it felt oily and gritty.

  He moved to the left, and tested this flow. The lichen glowed softly under it, and refracted a bit as the water tumbled. This water was cool, and felt clean, if slightly gritty. Like spring water always did when Steven found it. He was a bit put off by the lichen, but was otherwise not troubled.

  Putting the torch aside by stabbing it into the damp ground, Steven quickly pulled out the water filter and connector to his drink tube from pouch at his side. He put the pump/filter on his drink tube in place of the bite-valve and the other end in a likely spot in the flow, and began slowly pumping water into his pack. He could hear it dribble in and slowly expand the collapsed bag. Also he could feel the weight increase. Once his bag was full he carefully filled the two spare water skins attached to his pack, then put the filter away, looking himself over as he did. The remnants of the blood from the beasty was still damp on his clothes and gauntlets. Steven decided to clean this off, as best he could.

  He dug out a rag, and soaked it in the water, then wiped first his face and forehead, then one gauntlet and the other. Then he did his best to wipe up his vest and knife. The leather wiped off easily, the fabric less so. Once done, he rinsed the rag as best he could, squeezed it out and shook it. The water in the pool felt mostly mineral, and warm. As he folded the rag to tuck it away, he heard a chittering that chilled him. Turning he saw a pair of bugs scouting in, following his bloody foot prints. They stopped at each one, and tested it, then moved on to find the next. Steven decided not to stick around.

  Karen had said the only way out was through the water. Steven wished again for a walking stick, and stood up. Then without thinking, he drew the sword. It was a bit long for use here, but Steven did not want the bugs any closer. Something about them set off the short hairs on the back of his neck. Steven turned and used the sword to test the depth, and discovered the pool stepped down to thigh deep in three steps.

  The water was warm, and flowed briskly, and the fresh water seemed to overpower the mineral water fairly quickly

  Steven turned one last time, and could see more bugs crawl into the room. He considered grabbing for the torch, it was still burning where he had put it. But decided to leave it behind. The stick was still usable, but the current oil soaked warp was about done, and starting to catch the stick on fire. He had two more, and a good sack of oil and rags yet to use. He turned and left the torch he had been using.

  The bio-luminescent lichen continued into the tunnel, and here it began to go below the water level. The water flowed quick enough to push Steven along, but not over balance him. Since the bugs did not seem to follow, Steven decided to put the sword away.

  The tunnel turned into a rough carved tube, slightly taller than he was tall. Steven walked along this for nearly an hour. Every-so-far Steven found more water running down the walls. Most of it was fresh and cool. Some was acrid and dirty. All joined the flow bubbling along, tumbling over itself, and making the flow increasingly cool. The tube seemed to follow the natural seam of the rock, but had been cleared of debris that might trip. So while it twisted and turned some, and was uneven in its surface, there was always good footing. Provided he stepped carefully.

  The lichen seemed to glow stronger where fresh water flowed over it. Steven stopped at one point. “Wait a moment. Lichen does not grow under water. Does it?”

  Steven touched it, and it felt like any lichen he had encountered.

  “Oh, well.” He shrugged and moved on.

119 – Camping in the dark

  At its maximum depth the water was up to Steven’s waist and he had to crouch-walk in several spots as the tunnel was cleared for shorter people than Steven’s six and a half feet of height. The water soon began to pick up speed, and echo more, and the depth began decreasing. This worried Steven, but Karen had been emphatic that this way would get him there. He picked his footing carefully, but with the flow this was sometimes hard to do.

  The water was going quite fast now, and the lichen was in spots on the floor as well as the walls and ceiling, giving a dull glow to the tunnel. The turbulence of the water was hard enough to scour some of the lichen from the rocks and the tunnel began to noticeably widen. Also there was less water running down the walls, and the mineral water seemed to disappear. At this point it was pushing only his calves, and cold, with white rills as it tumbled along.

  Then the tunnel ended, and the trail almost did as well. Some distance below, the cascade of water splashed across rocks and ran into a pool. Someone had strung a chain across the mouth of the tunnel that Steven caught hold of as the water pushed his feet, and Steven now noticed another chain running back up the tunnel on one side at what would be a comfortable height for people native to this world.

  Steven’s tracking sense told him to get out of the light from the tunnel. The cavern he was entering was of substantial size, with rock formations scattered across it barely visible in the dim light, and colonies of the glowing lichen on many surfaces, making it almost as bright as a moonless night. Steven could not begin to sense the far side. Also from this altitude it, he could sense the bottom. The humidity level suggested there was a lot of water in here, however big here was. As well, the ambient sound was confusing. Wanting to not just wander blind, Steven pulled the second torch handle from the side of his pack and held it as a probe before him.

  The trail went to the right, and looked to be carved. It quickly descended into a small boxed area, where it switched back as it descended. The trail went back crossing under the water fall from the tunnel. As it went down it switched back on itself two more times, crossing under or through the waterfall. It continued to descend, but after the switch backs the trail went in a long clockwise curve around the wall of this large cavern. Steven squished along the descending trail waterlogged from his belt down, looking for somewhere to stop that was clean so he could undress and dry his socks. As he went the pools under the waterfall stepped down into an underground lake that filled a significant portion of the cavern, below a long first step.

  As the trail leveled off, and continued along the wall, Steven noticed a breeze of air, almost fresh. Finally Steven’s stomach compelled him to stop. The trail skirted the edge of the lake as it wound in and out against the wall or away from it among rock pillar gardens. Here and there he stepped in something nasty. The trail seemed to stay about three feet above the water level. Every so often Steven thought he heard a fish jump, and could sense the occasional flutter of insects. The echo’s of the chamber came in a diffused and confused manor for all the rock pillars, and ins and outs of the wall. Steven had several times returned to his memories of searching the tomb for the sword. This expedition was different. Then he had been able to light old torches to provide light beyond what he carried. Here he had no specific light source that he could do anything about, beyond the unlit torch he carried.

  Steven soon found a flat spot on a rock formation a little off the trail, across a gap of about two feet of open space above the water. The flat spot was big enough to stretch out on, and was at about eye level for Steven, so, Steven reasoned, it would be above average eye level for most of the locals. Steven climbed on and looked it over. It dropped to the water on two of its sides, the third he had climbed over, the forth was sided by a higher pillar. He could stand to full height, and stride a full step from the rising pillar and two from edge to edge in the other direction. Content, Steven set about getting to and removing his sodden socks.

  First he removed his pack, vest and harness. True to the promise of the old crone elf, the boots themselves were waterproof. But his trousers were not, and had let water seep in to his feet. After removing his wet trousers and socks Steven dug into his pack and put together a satisfying dinner, and found his dry socks.

  With his feet in dry socks, and his other socks, trousers and boots drying in the breeze, Steven put his second set of trouser on and wrapped his coat around him. His weapons harness at his side, and his pack under his head. Arranged thus, he dozed off.

  Unlike Steven who traveled a side tunnel, Roxanne followed Caspian down the apparent main tunnel. It was wide enough for carts and beasts to travel. It wound slowly down hill in generally the direction parallel to how Rox understood the mountains above to run, north-to-south, with occasional side chambers and tributary tunnels. It also seemed to have carved holes between chambers as it descended.

  As the hours passed, Roxanne’s eyes grew more accustomed to the dark, and she found she could more easily perceive depth by the heat of things, and see that way. The elves had mentioned this, but for whatever reason, she had not remembered until the night with Karen in Skarg, and what she had seen after their swim.

  Now she and Caspian hiked along. For being a main thoroughfare, Roxanne was surprised at the lack of traffic.

  Caspian’s staff glowed, specifically the head of the dragon carved on the top of it, its wings acting partly as reflectors throwing the light forward, depending on how he held it. Fortunately, or incidentally, for Roxanne the light did not put off heat, so it did not hamper her expanded range of sight. Cyrril could obviously see in the dark somehow, as he kept fluttering about.

  Roxanne suddenly realized she was crouching, with her bow out, one of the wooden arrows knocked and ready. Cyrril was stuck to a patch on the wall, pressed flat, and stretched to length, his throat showed a slight rise from normal temperature. Caspian had turned off his staff and disappeared. Roxanne looked down the cavern and road, and trained her hearing that way. Then she heard it: the soft shuffle of several sets of boots coming closer.

  Then the sound took form as several bipeds came around a corner; a male, then a female, and a second male. Roxanne did not quite trust her depth perception with her new vision range, but the three beings were within range, should she choose to shoot. Rox was curious at how the heat patterns if the sexes differed. Also they were dressed in some materials that she guessed were probably leather and some kind of home-spun, though nothing on the unfamiliar costume stood out. She was content to hide as these three did not seem to notice her, or Cyrril yet. So Roxanne continued to watch.

  A blinding flash and deafening concussion knocked Roxanne over and momentarily senseless. She shook her head and blinked to get the spots out of her eyes. When she could see again, she picked her arrow back up and crouched as she reset it, looking around. Her ears rang.

  The three were down, and Caspian was approaching them. His staff was held horizontal, with the dragon shooting light at the ground. His hand-crossbow was in his hand. He prodded each body in turn, as Roxanne noticed spreading pools of warmth around each one.

  Cyrril picked himself up from the ground nearby, disoriented and agitated.       

  “What was that for, and why?” Rox asked when she was sure she would be heard.

  “A trick from your world. A ‘flash-bang.’ At their range, it was fatal. Let’s go.” Caspian put his crossbow away under his coat, and moved on down the cavern.

  Roxanne stepped around the bodies. For a moment Caspian let his light fall across the faces of the elves. She noticed that they had elfin features, but pale gray skin with short hair. They were shorter than anybody else she had met. Also the female might have been pregnant. Roxanne was not sure, and blanched at finding out. It wasn’t the shape of the body, but that a bit more heat emanated from her belly. Either way it did not matter now.

  Roxanne moved on, in considerable thought. In the weeks she had known Caspian, she thought she had a good grasp on him. But this gave her pause. He hadn’t given them a chance to fight back. This was execution, bordering on murder. She caught up to him.

  “Isn’t anybody going to miss them? And what happens when they are found?” She asked.

  “I doubt they will be found. The things that live in the other tunnels will see to that. As for being missed, people go missing all the time. Besides they were traders. They won’t be expected back for a while.” Caspian explained.

  “Do you normally kill everyone you come across?” Rox asked what really concerned her. Steven had said Caspian was capable of being dangerous, and she had seen it, but this seamed different.

  “Of this race of flesh peddlers? Yes. Uht, wait.” He stopped her from interrupting. “Unlike the slaver that had you, these were actual flesh peddlers. They wouldn’t sell you as a slave. They would sell you as dinner.” Caspian tried to dissuade Rox’s argument before it could get momentum.

  Roxanne had to consider this. But came to no real conclusion. While killing was bad, did killing cannibals count? What about battle vs. vigilantism? She decided that beyond family, these would probably not be missed. But she still did not like it.

  They found a side chamber to camp in. A group trooped past disturbing their sleep. This turned out to be a merchant group. Roxanne huddled at the back of the cave, watching and thinking ‘invisible.’ They were soon gone, and Rox went back to sleep. Done sleeping, she and Caspian got out as fast as they could.

  Time became subject to their sleep cycles, that relative afternoon they entered a huge chamber, an unknown height above and widened out as it went in the direction of travel. Steven would travel through this cavern on a different track and altitude, and where he has the wall to his right, Roxanne and Caspian have it to their left. The carved road dropped very fast, switching back where room allowed. At some of the switch backs were watering holes, and dung holes. In a few spots Caspian produced a rope, and they descended the side to the road below. Roxanne almost asked how he knew when to do this, but never got the question out. Finally they came to what seemed to be the bottom. It was warmer than higher up, and the air had a definite dry heat to it.

  “We are near a lava seam. Follow this crack down, and you end up in a subduction fault zone. But it has been inactive for centuries,” Caspian explained.

  They soon entered a kind of natural rock garden, with stalactites and stalagmites, pillars, arches, etceteras scattered about. The road only going around what it had to. Just before making camp among these, they passed the sound of water falling down a far wall. The road branched off that way, but as they did not yet need water they passed it up. Finally after what felt like a full day of walking, Caspian led Roxanne off into the rock garden and picked a place to camp.

  “Tomorrow we should reach the village, and have a look around. So sleep yourself out.” So saying, Caspian handed Roxanne a biscuit, and broth with vegetables in it.

  Those finished, she set her bow where it would not get damaged, and curled up in her cloak.

120 – Meeting more locals

  Roxanne woke with a start, listening. She could see in her extended vision range. Caspian and Cyrril lay across from her, breathing in deep sleep. Then she heard the rattling of pebbles. Anywhere else she might not have noticed it. Here it was the only other sound. Rox slowly reached out and put her hand on her bow grip, pulling out a wooden arrow from her quiver with the other, and finding the end. Now she heard a faint scratching across stone. She looked up and beyond Caspian, but could not spot anything. She looked up the pillars and could see some faint patches of warmer stone on one, as if something had held on at those points. Her fingers rolled the arrow by feel as she looked around.

  As noiselessly as she could she rolled to a crouch, knocking her arrow as she did. She looked at the surrounding pillars but saw and heard nothing. She waited, remembering the times she had been bow hunting. Only then she had stalked or sat up a tree, not crouched looking up. After a few eternal moments of listening, movement attracted her attention.

  Something was crawling down a pillar, head first. Quadruped. A bit larger than a large dog, or maybe a small bear. Its claws held it to the rough stone. It had eyes, and large ears, and its head seemed to have a large nose cavity. It sniffed and listened. One ear swiveled to her, as Roxanne pulled back the bow string, and the compound wheels rolled over. She found herself aiming between its shoulders, trying to count its ribs by the heat of its body.

  At this angle it presented a terrific target but no soft spots for quick kills, except for right there. She aimed and then just as she released she moved her arm slightly, and caught the creature right at the base of its neck as it jumped at the sound of her bow. Instead of catching on to the next pillar, the thing just crashed into it and fell with a dull thud to the dirt floor.

  At the sound of the bow Cyrril had awakened; as the beast tumbled against Caspian he awoke with a start. He jumped sideways without seeming to pass from lying to standing, giving a startled shout.

  “What happened? What was that? What hit me?” Caspian flailed a bit in the dark, until Cyrril landed on his staff, causing the carved dragon to glow.

  Rox stood and toed the creature. “You tell me. It was climbing down the pillar above you.”

  The whole staff brightened, illuminating the thing. It lay on its side, looking vaguely like a piled up rug, with a broken arrow sticking out of it. Caspian picked up the staff, and switched its glowing to the spotlights. He looked the thing over. Its head was a bit smashed, and its legs at odd angles.

  “Some kind of bugbear,” Caspian did not sound certain.

  While its back had course short fur and looked well muscled, its underbody looked almost like an exoskeleton, a rough surface all over its chest with small spikes. It had stout looking jaws and fangs. Caspian showed Roxanne its paw. Talons as long as her fingers, barbs on its knuckles.

  “Is it worth anything?” Rox was wondering about how they might take it with.

  “Not here or now. Best we move.”

  They hiked an hour through the rock garden parallel to the road, and camped again without disturbance.

  Steven dreamed again. But this was a familiar dream. He had had it several times growing up and a few times since, with more and different details each time, as life got closer to the event. In the past, it usually came when he was depressed, and would cheer him up. This time he did not need cheering up, but it still helped.

  He wore some kind of leather armor, and was fighting with a sword in one hand and a knife in the other, against some kind of uniformly armored men. He was fighting these bad guys off. Roxanne is nearby. The kids are also nearby, standing with two trusted strangers, when . . .  the dream ends, at least as far as Steven could ever remember. The setting was always an afterthought. But it seemed they were in a forest, having made camp. And that whatever happens after the dream ends, everything will be all right.

  This dream always renewed his optimism. But he had not had it in some time. Then the armor the elves gave him began to look and feel familiar. As did the old sword. And while he was marching out from Skarg the memory of this dream returned to him. From that point he had looked forward in quiet anticipation for the moment when he would live what he dreamed. And now he could remember and see most of the elements of the event. He still could not see all the elements, but he thought he knew who they all were, and generally where. And it made him happy.

  Steven woke from his sleep feeling refreshed. The humidity was pleasant, as was the sound of the lapping of the water against stone. He cleaned up his camp, and packed everything carefully. He did not want to make anymore noise or mess than he needed, so he secured everything in their pouches. He had pushed himself hard the afternoon and night before, and had rested well. Now, with the village near by according to Karen, he had to scout it out and plan the best way to go about approaching and rescuing his son. His eyes quickly adapted to the dim conditions, as his sense of hearing seemed to give new information. He could hear movement approaching. A party of some kind on the trail coming from the way he wanted to go. They would be looking nearly right at him as they passed this point.

  Quickly Steven repacked his stuff, and slung his pack across his back. He cast about for somewhere to go, and realized he had a shelf to stand on, on the far side of this pillar. Steven lowered himself to stand on the balls of his feet in just his socks, and gripped the lip with his hands. As he looked past his feet and the shelf he could see the water, and the luminescent lichen or moss below going deep into the water.

  Steven waited there for the party to go by, sneaking peaks over the rocks to watch, hoping they would not notice his boots he had not thought about to grab. Three beings went by. Most of what Steven could see was by pattern-recognition in the very low light.

  They were short, as everybody on this planet was to Steven. But these also looked lightly built. They wore some kind of rough cloth with worked leather of some kind. They did not carry any light source with them, but did have what looked like torches or clubs of some kind, wrapped in bundles on their backs. They all carried short swords and knives on their belts. The sword hung level, rather than down. Also they all wore their hair pulled back and tied into a tail that hung down their backs. They all were probably male, but Steven wasn’t about to worry about it. In the dark, he was surprised to see that much.

  Karen’s voice echoed through his mind ‘When you encounter the locals, think ‘empty;’ not just the word but the concept. These people can sense your mind. There is little you can do to sneak up on them, except distraction.’ Steven found himself thinking of empty space, until they passed.

  He figured he had at least part of one more day of travel before getting to the village. He had better get moving. Once they were past and a bit away, Steven chinned himself back up, grabbed his boots, crossed over to the trail, and proceeded along in the direction the three had come for a bit to put some distance between him and the three before putting his boots on. If they found the ant-pillars down, and the creature beyond missing they might start looking for him. Steven put his boots on, and moved along in hasty stealth. He was several turns of the trail along before realizing that his woodcraft skills from his active duty days had essentially returned. Also the cavern was just light enough he did not need a portable light source.

  Steven though things over as he went. Karen’s implanted memory told him he would skirt this lake for most of the rest of his way, then turn at a tributary stream and follow that up to the village. From there he could exit the main village passage and eventually get back to the large cavern and the main road from there.

  But what still troubles Steven was the tactics of the situation. He was uncomfortable with the idea of just walking into an armed village, and demanding his son. But on his own, there was little else he could do. As he walked, Steven tried to review his situation and what he could do about it. His primary objective was getting Alex, while keeping them both alive. Secondary to this was getting a certain book or scroll. Karen had implanted this, rather than mention it. Steven was not sure why, but would ask about it later. Then was to get them back to the main trail and out.

  About the village he was going to, normally his first concern would be reconnoitering the place. If it was in a cavern, he could not just skirt around its perimeter, without being observed, as he might on the surface. Nor was he in position to get airborne images or maps of the place. So that meant entering it blind to its layout. Add the light limitations, and the apparent psionic abilities, or talents, or these people.

  With the technology and tools he might have had on Terra, Earth, he could have done more planning and felt better about the situation. But none of that was available. Caspian and his magic might have been able to overcome these limitations, but for whatever reason Karen had arranged the plan for a simultaneous retrieval of Alex and Diana.

  In following this plan Karen had surmised and discussed with Steven, this his options were reduced to walking in and introducing himself, or abandoning the project.

  Perhaps it was just as well. A group of three novices attacking a village for a extraction of one person was not necessarily going to work. Particularly if every member of the village could sense the presence of any strangers before the stranger got even into bow-range.

  The memory of the dream intruded into his line of thought. Alex was in the dream. The dream was of future events, and judging by what was becoming reality around him, these were near future events. So best to stick to the plan, and remember that last bit of all battle plans. No plan of attack every completely survived its first encounter with the enemy. Thus be ready to improvise and adapt.

  Steven spent until lunchtime trotting along the trail. In that time, he had still not encountered another person or creature. This was starting to trouble him. Even when walking the mountains with Caspian, they had occasionally passed some sign of life.

  “In most stories,” he mumbled under his breath, “caves are full of things to fight or hide from. All I have found is an oversized badger, and an anthill.”

  Steven stopped in a bright spot for lunch, but only long enough to pull the food out of his pocket, and munch as he went. The taste was nothing to write home about, but it was filling. Then he encountered a problem.

  The cavern had been opening up, and the trail increasingly less on the edge of the lake and more on its shore. From family travels, it was like walking in a variation of Goblin Valley, Utah. With water carved boulders and formations, glowing lichen all over, and the air moist. The problem came as he reached a bend, and quickly ducked back behind it. First the shore stopped, and the cavern looked to close on itself like the shore at Lake Powell, or parts of Lake Mead, and like so many of the bends this morning. The terrain was not the problem.

  Ahead of him stood a hand full of beings. They looked like the three that had passed him this morning; smallish men, maybe a bit shorter on average than the locals on the surface. But these looked to be guarding a post on a waterway.

  Steven ducked behind a pillar to think. Karen’s instructions had got him this far, but did not explicitly cover this. She said he had to hike that river a ways and get back onto a side trail. It looked like the trail went across the river and down a parallel tunnel these guarded.

  Some how he had to get past, but how? Four, or more, on one? Not unless no other way existed. Even then that could get him killed, if they were as skilled, or more skilled, than Karen.

  Climb? Steven looked up, near as he could tell, the way would be next to impossible without proper gear, like a pneumatic drill and a team. And the ceiling sloped away quickly. Not a probable climb.

  Swim? Back track and circle in wide in the water? Possible, as long as his gear didn’t sink him. And any current did not take him too far.

  One other option, and the one that was originally planned, was to walk right in and see what happened. Karen said these were an honorable people. But she also said he needed to get a certain book, or scroll, to take with. She did not say why.

  Steven had gathered from bits of conversation that Karen had let slip that these people had the same skills she did, in being a psi-talent. Steven had a vivid enough imagination to be concerned; and had seen enough, both during his time with the Marines and in the week with Karen that he felt any fight would have to be entirely one sided; either he kill or incapacitate the person quickly, or get killed or incapacitated that quickly.

  The more Steven though about it, the more it seamed diplomacy was his best weapon, but he would need to be very careful, as he suspected these people could read minds. Not necessarily all of them, but enough. He also wondered why his first instinct had been to fight.