Chapter 15

Raavan insisted that they continue their trek, for though they had progressed quite some distance toward the north-east they needed still to find the exit which they presumed would lead them to the Penyandil Pass.
      Burak informed them that the presence of the fountain indicated that there should be a subterranean river nearby, the Valoomin most likely, and that would mean that they had still some ways to go before reaching the pass. Following the eastern passageway they came quickly to the river. They stood on a high shelf to gaze down at the water coursing strongly by in its track. On the far side of the watercourse they espied another shelf like the one on which they stood, but there was no longer any span to take them across.
      So they returned to the rotunda and went instead north. The first passage branching off from this tunnel led east and down a long flight of steps, and though they had no desire to delve even deeper into the earth Burak reasoned that as long as they kept moving east it little mattered whether they also went up or down. At least this way they were likely to find their way to the other side of the river.
      They therefore descended the steps to the fourth lower level. Reaching the bottom they found themselves in a long passage leading east and when they arrived at the end of this they felt certain that they had indeed passed fully beneath the river. After several twists and turns they were again heading east and they continued on this route for some time. They came at one point to a long stairway leading up, but when they reached the top they encountered a locked iron door and were forced to continue along the passage below.
      In time the passage curved round toward the north and began sloping gently upward. They came then to a small, square chamber with a very high ceiling and a rune-covered obelisk rising from the centre of the floor. Burak knew not the name of the relic and could discern only a few of the ancient runes, though he was sure they were Dwarven in origin.
      Continuing north the party descended a slope to find themselves in a large and very ancient hall with crumbling brickwork and rather different architecture from that with which they had now become accustomed.
      Though the hall itself was roughly square many smaller structures projected outward from the walls, having obviously been added at a later date, though they were still very ancient. The entire middle portion of the room was itself taken up by a large squarish construction, again very ancient, that rose from the floor nearly to the ceiling so that the open area of the room actually formed a ring of sorts. This middle structure was itself variously aisled and in the small alcoves formed within it they could see neatly arranged stone coffins.
      ‘The Crypt of Aturin. I would bet my axe on it,’ said Burak as they wandered through the crumbling tomb.
      The coffins were of various designs, some more ornate than others. On some of the sarcophagi were set ancient runes, many too faded to clearly make out. Others had flowery, sculpted decorations or even the likeness of their owners’ countenance set upon them. Finally they came to a low, narrow corridor leading to the very centre of the structure. Within they found set upon a stately dais a large, important-looking sarcophagus with only a single rune to be seen anywhere upon it. Burak stood before the coffin with his hands placed reverently upon it.
      ‘This must be the tomb of Aturin himself,’ said the Dwarf with complete and utter awe. ‘Never did I dream that one day I would stand in this very place. It is more than most would even dare to hope.’ A tear streamed down his rough face then, and he fell silent.
      ‘Come,’ said Raavan. ‘We must go. These spirits have seen their own trials and tribulations, and we have yet to deal with ours. I sense that the codex is being borne away by swift horse from Ilimath, yet we are still caught inside this place. We must hurry now to find our way out.’
       
       
      Two passages left the crypt to the east. The first one that they tried broke immediately into stairs leading up to the next level and they were happy to see that these did not dead end at a locked door or a cave-in. However, they did find, much to their consternation, that the passage looped round into a circuit with several rooms interior to the ring and no unblocked ways leading outward from it so that in the end they had to return to the crypt and try the other eastern passage.
      This way was much more fruitful, as it continued for several miles at least without terminating. In time they came to a very prominent-looking passage leading north. Upon examining the runes set in the floor at the junction Burak declared that the northern way led to the Altar of Eamhnán. A quick trip up the passage confirmed that indeed a great hall with an alter lay that way, though as it had no other exits they continued eastward along their original route.
      Several miles more they trudged before realising they had now come to the dungeons. Peering through rusty iron gates they saw the cells where criminals once were imprisoned. Some among them found it ironic that the prisons now stood empty while murderous beasts roamed freely throughout the great subterranean empire.
      Dannadar pulled open one of the creaky iron doors, yet as he did so the hinges completely disintegrated and the door fell with a crash onto the stone floor, the sound of it reverberating down the hallway. A stern look from Raavan brought a quick apology from the Elfling.
      Soon the passage turned south. Now there were more dungeons, larger than the others, and an array of torture devices were to be seen in them. Burak remarked upon seeing these that they must have been brought in by Mythron, for the Dwarves never employed such devices.
      Continuing south they again found a stairway leading upward, and they discovered upon ascending part-way that it was blocked ahead by the rubble from a cave-in. On their way back down Burak explained that many of the stairways in Ilimath were constructed using the older methods and were thus susceptible to certain types of geological perturbations that could render them unstable after a great many years. His explanation was cut short, however, for as the party reached the bottom of the stairs they were surprised by a band of Goblyns that had approached in stealth from the north.
      Burak was dealt a glancing blow with a scimitar, though it caused him more surprise than harm, for his armour of sínitheal deflected the blade nicely. The party recovered from the shock almost immediately, Alatar and Burak putting up a strong defence while the Elflings carefully shot arrows at the foe from behind. Three Goblyns were cut down, then four, five, and six, and yet on they came, more arriving all the time till perhaps fifteen of the malignant creatures lined up for their chance to cross swords with the man and the Dwarf.
      The company decided to retreat. Running south they soon came to a very long, winding passage, rough hewn and leaping down an occasional set of four or five stairs. Down yet another level the party was gradually descending as on the passage wound toward the south-west. When they came at last to the bottom of the stairs the hallway had opened up into a fantastically immense cavern with a large subterranean lake so wide they could not see the other side, and yet with enough rocky shore around it that they had plenty of room to walk without wetting their feet.
      ‘Dowse the torch!’ Burak said to Raavan, who held their only light. ‘This is the Loomere. It casts its own moon-like glow. We shall be able to see well enough to walk about without the torch, and mayhap we can lose our pursuers if we move with stealth round the lake.’
      Raavan did just as Burak bade him and now they saw that the Loomere did indeed cast a glow like unto that of the moon. They hurried west along the lake shore, then moved closer to the outer wall where they hoped to blend into the darkest shadow there. They had gone only some thirty yards when they heard the Goblyns finally descend the stairs. Their pursuers had not yet seen them, but stood near the entrance to the winding passage looking this way and that for any sign of their quarry.
      The company moved very stealthily then, going counter-clockwise round the lake. As far as they could tell the Goblyns were not following them, yet the companions continued on with the greatest care, with not so much as a rolled pebble to give away their position.
      The Loomere was not circular, but was rather shaped like a large U, as was the cavern that enclosed it. When the company had reached the inner bend they suddenly froze upon realising that there were man-sized creatures wading in the lake and lounging in its shallows. The company stayed put and watched the dark forms, hoping to get a good enough look to decide what manner of creature this was.
      In time their eyes adjusted to the dim light of the Loomere and then they saw what were the creatures: they were not Goblyns, but rather appeared to be some sort of fish-man with green scales covering their bodies. They had large, webbed feet and narrow fish-like heads with gill slits for ears and gaping O-shaped mouths. Many of them bore spears and some of those sitting in the shallows appeared to be eating fish which they had impaled upon the barbs.
      ‘Istaks,’ whispered Raavan.
      ‘Are they dangerous?’ Burak whispered back.
      ‘I do not think they are known for their civility,’ answered the wizard softly. ‘Let us not attract their attention. We cannot go back with the Goblyns guarding the passage, so we must continue this way. Follow me, and be very careful!’
      They continued very slowly around the shore, and many more of the Istaks did they see. When they reached the tip of the western arm they encountered a small stream providing drainage from the lake. Across the stream they waded with great care and then they continued on their way around the Loomere.
      Eventually they came to the shore across from the winding passage which they had descended, and now there were openings in the nearer cavern wall leading to other adjoining caves. They passed by the first of these and then saw that the strange fish-men were entering and leaving some of the other caves further down. It occurred to them that they might have some difficulty passing by these unnoticed.
      On they crept very slowly and staying close by the wall in the deepest shadows. Now they sent Talen forward to carefully peer into the next cave and assess their chances of sneaking by unseen. Falco stood some way behind him with arrow nocked and ready to fly should Talen be discovered. Soon Talen motioned to the other Elfling that they should follow and Falco relayed the sign on to the others. They all crept quickly by the cave.
      This routine they repeated several times and found it to work satisfactorily till Talen suddenly changed his mind after motioning the company forward and they all had to come to an abrupt halt. Talen turned round and whispered to Falco and Raavan that there was a steaming pool in this cave and a fairly large group of the sea creatures were lounging within it and loitering round its edges. At any moment one of them might glance up in the direction of the adjoining cavern or even venture back out to the lake. Although those in the steam bath appeared to be unarmed there were many others down by the lake which carried spears and so it seemed very prudent to avoid raising any alarm.
      In the end they decided to sneak by one at a time. This worked fine, except that as Burak went by the cave opening an Istak glimpsed his unfamiliar silhouette and began to follow awkwardly behind him. The Dwarf was aware of the creature however and when the unfortunate Istak turned round the corner at the cave entrance Burak deftly chopped its head nearly off with a controlled thrust of his axe. The sound of waves gently lapping the shore of the Loomere concealed any noise of a struggle and for the moment the party was still safe. They had passed the last of the caves and now they could sneak along at a slightly quicker pace.
      In the south-east corner of the great cavern was a very large tunnel leading down many broad steps. This they followed, for as yet they had seen no other, more promising way out of the great cavern. Down they went for some distance before rekindling their torches. Burak announced then that they were by his reckoning six full levels beneath the surface.
      The large tunnel continued more or less straight toward the south-east, throwing off a great many side branches or ‘mines’ as Burak called them, though some appeared little more than crawl-spaces. At length the great tunnel split, one branch proceeding east and the other south, though they could see from where they stood that the southern passage was completely flooded with water. These tunnels were not entirely level now and the southern passage obviously went down a fairly steep slope, while the other rose slightly.
      The eastern way again spawned many mines opening at irregular intervals on either side. They followed this tunnel for perhaps a mile, frequently encountering large puddles which had formed in the concavities in the floor. Eventually this tunnel forked into three passages leading roughly east. They took the centre way leading due east, then turning south-east as it opened into a low cavern that was mostly flooded. They turned back then and took the leftmost fork, which curved up toward the north-east. Several side branches led off to the right, but each of those which they felt inclined to explore led also to flooded chambers and passages and so they continued along the winding main tunnel, which took them in convoluted fashion ever northward.
      Eventually even this passage terminated in a half-flooded cavern and at this point they decided to take a much-needed rest. They sat with their backs to the wall a short distance from the water’s edge and took some food and water.
      ‘This place just goes on and on,’ commented Talen. ‘I don’t think we’ll ever see the end of it.’
      ‘Aye, it is a big place,’ agreed Burak. ‘Many times now I have wondered whether we had stumbled onto the Endless Corridor of Uvarda.’
      ‘What’s that?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘It is only a myth,’ answered Burak. ‘It used to be said that if one dug deep enough into the earth one would come out in the far land of Uvarda which is on the other side of the world.’
      ‘Wow. Is that true?’ asked Dannadar. ‘I should think we’re getting pretty close to that place now, so deep have we gone into the earth.’
      ‘It is only a myth,’ answered the Dwarf. ‘But it reminds me of another legend which tells that after death the spirit is led down a long tunnel which bores straight into the earth and leads eventually to Haelaíontóir , where the soul must await judgement. Those whom the gods judge as unfit for Valinor are cast instead into the pit of Amgamman, where they must toil endlessly till they earn another chance at judgement or resign themselves to eternal labour in the hot places near the centre of the earth.
      ‘But that is only for those who are buried, and Dwarves seldom bury their dead anymore. The crypt we saw earlier was very ancient, and showed the old way of interring the dead. Now Dwarves are mostly cremated, for the soul of a cremated body goes directly to the Gníomhaithe : a spiritual resting place that is distinct from Valinor, for the gods do not dwell there.’
      After a moment of silence Talen changed the subject. ‘Raavan, what hope have we of retrieving the codex now? Surely Nostaite has ridden far away with the tome by now, and we know not even which way to look for him.’
      ‘I think there is still hope,’ answered the wizard. ‘When I was searching in the citadel for the codex I did not know immediately which book was the one, but I could feel its presence very strongly even before we set foot within the citadel itself. So much power was invested in that work by Mythron that it now bears his aura: a signature of his power which is strongly exuded into the space around it and even leeches into the rock walls of the passages down which it is carried. This I know, for I felt it when we fled with the Ghatâl on our trail back along the route by which we had come. Even running along desperately as we did I could sense that the codex had been carried that way. I am sure I can track it if we can just get out of this place.
      ‘And, speaking of which—’ But the wizard halted in mid-sentence, for glancing over at the water he saw that a number of fish-like heads were rising quietly up out of the pool and moving now in the direction of the company. As their bodies emerged the companions saw that they bore spears, which they now held menacingly aloft.
      ‘Come!’ yelled Raavan and the company jumped quickly up and followed him from the chamber. As they fled south along the winding passage they could hear the sound of wet feet slapping on the rock floor. They ran all the way back to the point where the large eastward tunnel had branched in three, and when they emerged back into that tunnel they spied another group of Istaks walking calmly in their direction. When the company were spotted by this group the latter also raised their spears and began to charge.
      Down the rightmost of the three branching passages the company fled, and they prayed that this one was not also flooded, for no side passages did they see and the contingent of fish-men that followed was by now a rather large one.
      The passage led south-east for a long time, then drifted east and then finally north-east. It began to slope steeply downward and for a long time the descent continued. Left and right the passage wound and now water trickled down along the floor: a very bad sign indeed! The walls closed in around them till the companions were running in single file, and still the passage gradually narrowed. Then the floor dropped away completely and they all slid down a steep chute to land in two feet of murky water. There they lay in a sewage tunnel at the very bottom of Ilimath.
       
       
      They rose as quickly as ever they could, for they knew their pursuers would arrive at any minute. The sewage tunnel ran roughly south-east and this is the direction they followed. Just as they were setting off they heard splashes behind them as the fish-men slid down the chute to land in the dark water. The company wasted no time, but went right on trudging toward the south. Walking through water slowed them up quite a bit however and they had to look back often to see how far behind were their pursuers.
      Soon they came to a grating on the left where a tunnel from the north-east joined this one. A portion of the grate was broken away and they judged that it was large enough for everyone in the company to squeeze through. It was a bit tight for some of them however and it was certainly awkward for them all, for they had to kneel on hands and knees in the water and crawl under. Burak was the last to come through. The Istaks reached the gate as he did so, and then Alatar had to fend them off by jabbing at them through the gate with Noromendor.
      As soon as all were through they made ready to rush down the tunnel, but before they could do so two of the Istaks had slipped under the gate and the company were forced to turn and fight the spear-wielding beasts. So long were their spears and so agile were they at thrusting them that both Burak and Falco were knocked over by strong blows to the chest. Neither were injured however, due to their strong Dwarven chain-mail, and the aggressors were quickly slain by the rest of the company. Yet, more Istaks were slipping through all the while and soon a handful of them were jostling to enter the fray.
      Once again Alatar proved a formidable warrior, for Noromendor chopped and hewed and its green flame seared, and wherever the blade flashed another monster fell dead, many of them cut in twain. Soon heads and arms and cloven bodies were bobbing in the water all about the man. Now as the Istaks peering in through the gate saw the number of their dead kind they became much afraid and for a time they retreated and would not venture into the tunnel.
      This gave the company time to flee. Northeast they went, splashing through the muck as speedily as they could manage, though it was tiring work. When up on the left they saw a chute like the one down which they had just come they hurriedly investigated and found that it might just permit entry. As Burak was the widest among them he went first to make sure the way was passable for all. Meanwhile Alatar remained behind to guard their rear, and this proved very effective, for with the green glow of Noromendor visible for some way down the tunnel it became rather less likely that the Istaks would even dare mount any attack.
      Up and up the company climbed till they thought they would never reach the top, and all the while a steady stream of malodorous effluent ran down the chute and splashed into their faces, finding its way by and by up their nostrils and into their mouths.
      When at length they did reach the top they found that they were in a tall, cylindrical chamber not unlike the bottom of a well. High above them was a shelf on the north-east side too high for any of them to reach, and aside from this there appeared to be no other way out apart from the chute out of which they had just climbed.
      They figured then that they had little to fear from their pursuers, for even were the beasts sufficiently determined to climb up the chute after them (which it was doubted they were) the party could easily hack at the persistent sea creatures one at a time as they came up out of the hole in the floor. What concerned them more at this juncture was how they could escape from their current predicament.
      In the end they decided that Raavan should stand on Alatar’s shoulders and try to reach the shelf above, though it clearly would be a stretch. Up onto the warrior’s back Raavan climbed and soon he was standing precariously on the man’s shoulders feeling high along the wall for the ledge, yet without success. Those who watched below could see that he missed it by several feet at the least.
      So, down the old wizard climbed and around they all sat very glumly, trying to think of a way out but not hitting on anything at all promising. Meanwhile, Airi had been having a very tough time of it, what with the many battles against dungeon spawn and then with the chute and the sewage water. Just getting the bird to struggle up the second chute had been a chore for the old wizard, who had continually to poke the bird in the rear to keep him climbing.
      Now the waterlogged owl perched on Talen’s shoulder and preened the moisture from his feathers. When he was again sufficiently dry to permit flight he alighted on the ledge to which his companions aspired. And there he sat, still preening, and looking not a bit pleased.
      Suddenly Raavan hit on an idea that he was quite certain would work. They had just a short while ago tried tossing a short-sword tied to the end of a rope onto the ledge, but it would catch on nothing. They had tried throwing a second rope with a second short-sword in an attempt to pull the first sword round the column which divided the shelf in two, but again they had no luck. Now Raavan simply had the bird pull the rope around the column and back down to the party below. With the line now looped about the pillar and both ends in their possession they were able to tie a lasso in the one end, and feeding the other through it they tied the rope fast to the column. And so up they climbed.
      They were not all good climbers, of course, and they sent the most challenged among them first so that the others could remain behind to catch any that might fall. When Burak reached the top he put his tremendous strength to work by hoisting up on the rope while the climber climbed. In time they all had reached the ledge and now they stowed the rope, lit a torch, and eagerly followed the passage which led from the room.
      North-east they went, then north, and then turning east they ascended a long flight of steps. Burak judged that they had ascended two full levels since leaving the sewers, so that they were now only five levels beneath the surface. Though this was encouraging they still had a long way to go just to reach ground level and that fact was not lost on any of them.
      Round a corner the passage took them northward and then the hallway ended at a cave-in. But they had passed another corridor branching off to the east a short way back and now they investigated this. Some distance east it took them and then out into a very grand hall which stretched several hundred yards from north to south.   They were nearly in the exact middle of it.
      Across the way they could see a truly massive cavern opening in the midst of the ancient stonework. The hall had clearly been constructed around the opening and this Burak found strange, for it would have been more usual for the builders to have walled up the opening and then to have provided a much smaller portal passing into the cavern.
      They ventured across the hall and into the enormous cave. It was a typical cavern, rough-walled and completely unworked by Dwarven hands. Burak again found this puzzling, for this did not appear to be a mine of any sort. Fifty yards they went and then the cavern split.
      They followed the north-easterly way and entering an even larger cavern they stopped and caught their breath, for before them the cave took on a fantastical appearance, forming all manner of shapes in a variety of colours and hues. Sparkling gems and minerals reflected the flickering torchlight and dazzled the eyes; luminescent streaks of blue and red coursed through the rock; stalactites and stalagmites formed elegant, glistening columns; and everywhere there was amazing variety: a continual display of nature’s undying love of diversity and a monument to its extraordinary ability to surprise and delight. It was a feast for the eyes and not one among them was without awe at the sight of it.
      ‘Have I died and gone to Valinor?’ asked Burak.
      ‘I think not,’ Raavan assured him.
      ‘No, indeed,’ said Burak. ‘For I stand now in the very Caverns of Daonlatha, the Gem of Cáilíoch. And all my dreams have come true.’
       
       
      They walked about as if in a dream. Few of them had ever imagined that so beautiful a place could be found beneath the earth. They had travelled for days fighting countless monsters in the dark while searching fruitlessly for a way back to the sunlit world above. Now so low was their morale that the exquisite beauty of this place brought tears to their eyes and some at least of them were ready to lay down and give up the search. If they were to die in Ilimath, so they thought, then let it be in this place that at least stood out from among the endless miles of dark, twisting passageways. They would spend their last days here in peace and wonder. They began to feel very sleepy, and now the thought came into their minds that all that remained for them was to lie down and fall into interminable slumber.
      Yet, of all the companions at least Raavan kept his wits about him and soon he had roused them all and marched them back into the long hall. They turned to the north, and then from that same direction they heard the galloping of hooves and into view hove a band of Daonracht-mounted Goblyns.
      The Goblyns reined in their scaly, sharp-toothed steeds while both parties quickly took in the situation. Then in one and the same instant both groups burst into motion, the companions rushing back into the cavern and the Goblyns racing after them.
      This time the company took the southern branch of the cave, which proved fortunate for them as the terrain was more rugged that way and this slowed the Daonracht somewhat. However, the beasts were well adapted to travelling over uneven ground and they gave the company a good chase. Soon the companions could flee no more but had to turn and fight the mounted spawn. The Elflings fired their arrows at the vile creatures, but as the Goblyns were wearing armour many a projectile simply bounced off with no effect. Falco cleverly shot at the Daonracht rather than their riders and two at least of the Goblyns were forced after that to stand on their own feet during the melee.
      Once again there were too many Goblyns for the company to have any hope of ultimate victory, so when they had a chance to flee they took it. South they flew over the roughest terrain they could find and then they entered a branch of the cavern which wound around and narrowed considerably, eventually forming a natural passageway that turned off to the east. Now the passage appeared to have been worked somewhat and before long it began to slope steeply upward, aided by steps both natural and sculpted. Up and up they went and yet the passage did not end. They began to sweat with the effort, for it was a steep climb.
      At length the very air began to feel warmer. Then they saw a light far above them. No longer was there any sign of their pursuers, yet they climbed feverishly, even compulsively. And then they stopped, for they were looking out through a crevasse onto the Penyandil Pass.