Call of the Herald (13 page)

* * *

Deep in the heart of the Masterhouse, within
the mountain rock that held the most sacred halls, far from the
stench of refugees, Master Edling paced. Here, fresh air vents
allowed him to breathe freely for the first time since he awoke.
Like so many vermin chased upward by floodwater, they had come to
the Masterhouse, expecting to be fed and protected, and like the
great soft-hearted fool he was, Headmaster Grodin let them in. It
was suicide. With the emergency provisions stored deep in the
mountain, those who dwelt in the Masterhouse could have easily
lasted several winters, but with the boiling refugees, they would
be lucky to last until spring. Even with strict rationing, they
would most likely starve.

"We should send them to the cold caves with
the Volkers," Master Beron said. "They've got plenty of food."

"Grodin would never allow it, the boiling
fool. He doesn't deserve to be Headmaster. That position is
reserved for someone with a strong enough will to make tough
decisions when they need to be made," Master Edling said. "There
must be another way. The problem we have right now is that the
refugees are everywhere, like lice. Thank the gods that Grodin has
at least the decency to maintain the sanctity of the sacred halls.
If we could get him to agree to isolate the refugees in the
audience halls, we could collapse the entrances and be rid of
them."

"And let them starve?" Master Beron asked,
looking as if he might be sick.

"That's a big part of your problem, Beron;
you've got no backbone. Would you prefer we offer them up to the
Zjhon as slaves? Would you rather be a slave or die free?"

Master Beron sat for a moment before
responding, but Master Edling's glare demanded he say something. "I
suppose I'd rather die free," he said with uncertainty.

"You're boiling right you would. Now act like
a man. These are terrible times, and if we're to survive, then
terrible things must be done."

* * *

By midday, they reached an area where the
vegetation thinned, giving way to mature trees that were widely
spaced. Benjin scanned the valley walls, looking for another
landmark.

"There was an ancient landslide--huge
boulders in an enormous mound of rubble that was grown over with
moss. It looked like a sleeping giant leaning against a cliff," he
said as he searched, growing anxious as they traveled with no
further sign of a landmark. "Wendel and I carried lighter packs,
and maybe we were able to cover more ground. It was a long time
ago, and my memory is not what it once was." They continued their
hike for what seemed like ages, and still they found no signs of
the sleeping giant. Benjin called a halt and looked for a place he
could climb the valley wall.

"Maybe from a height I'll be able to see it,"
he said.

"I'll go with you," Chase said, following
him. Catrin, Strom, and Osbourne settled into the shade to rest
while they climbed.

"We've gone too far," Benjin announced when
they returned. "Chase spotted some trees growing high and at odd
angles, and I think they are growing out of the mound."

"Great job, you two. We must be getting close
now. I trust your instincts," Catrin said.

After a short hike, Benjin smiled widely. "I
think we're almost there!"

He walked closer to the cliff and found
another set of marked stones, and they soon saw signs of the
ancient rockslide.

"Chase and I will climb up first to locate
the entrance. The rest of you stay here and remain alert. You'll
want to back off a ways because we could loosen some stones," he
warned. Using trees and bushes for support, they climbed the rocks,
nearly slipping on places slick with moss.

In a loud whisper, Benjin said, "The entrance
is blocked. We're going to have to clear it, and some debris may
fall."

Chase and Benjin stacked the stones they
removed to the side of the entrance, trying to keep them from
falling, but a few still tumbled down the slope and crashed through
the trees. The shadows were long by the time they cleared an
opening large enough for Benjin to squeeze himself through to take
a look.

"The place looks about the same as when I
last saw it. Let's finish getting this opening cleared," he said.
From inside the entrance, he was able to dislodge large sections of
rock. They took two ropes and tied them to a remaining boulder and
tied small stones to the other ends. Chase and Benjin tossed down
the ropes, and although the stones helped to propel them through
the foliage, only one reached the ground; the other caught high in
the branches. Chase pulled it back up and tossed it again; this
time the rope got low enough for Strom to reach it.

"Secure the packs, one at a time, and we'll
haul 'em up," Benjin said. "Gather wood and kindling, preferably
dry," Benjin called down after they began pulling the packs up.
"Tie it off in bundles, and we'll haul them up."

Catrin and Osbourne scrambled to find wood in
the failing light while Strom tied the bundles and guided them as
they rose. Benjin's request for wood meant they would have a fire,
which was reassuring because it meant he felt they were safely away
from any pursuers. When darkness threatened to make scrounging
impossible, they made the climb while they could still see, a
relatively easy task when unencumbered.

No one spoke as they passed through the
entrance and stared at the sight before them. The narrow opening
emptied into a spacious hallway, which sloped downward at an angle.
Perfectly rectangular, the hall was clearly not a natural
formation, which was further evidenced by the worn scrollwork that
decorated the lichen-covered walls. A short distance ahead, the
hall gave way to a cavernous chamber. Its floor was littered with
debris and the bones of small animals, and despite its relatively
smooth appearance, it was pocked with small holes.

A narrow opening in the ceiling let in
moonlight, which was reflected by the still waters of a
subterranean lake. As they crossed the area that stood between them
and the lake, the massive size of the cavern became apparent, and
the scale of it dwarfed them. The vaulted ceiling was almost
invisible in the growing darkness, and the dark waters of the lake
seemed to stretch on forever in the distance.

"What
is
this place?" Catrin
asked.

Benjin stood up from the bags he had been
unpacking and joined the others. "Your father and I found this
place by accident when looking for shelter from a storm. We
couldn't figure out much about it other than the fact that this
chamber had once been inhabited, possibly before the Purge. Other
passages once led to this chamber, but they had all been blocked or
the ceilings had collapsed. We investigated a bit, even built a
small raft we used to explore. I bet it's still here." His eyes
took on a faraway look as he remembered the time long past, but he
pulled himself from his memories and returned to the present.
"Let's get a fire started, shall we? I'm hungry and I'd really like
some hot food. We can explore later."

Catrin got the tinderbox from her pack and
started a fire. "Don't make the fire very large, li'l miss," Benjin
warned. "We haven't put anything across the entrance yet, and the
light could give us away. The cavern's big enough that it'll take
up the smoke before it escapes through that hole up there, but
we'll still need to be careful.

"The lake water should be safe to drink," he
continued, "but I think it'd be best to boil it first. There's a
kettle in one of the bags. After the water is boiled, you can put
the kettle in a shallow part of the lake to cool it quickly. Let's
fill our flasks too."

Catrin and Strom set about boiling water and
getting ingredients together for a stew. She was glad to see Benjin
pull recurve bows, strings, and several quivers of arrows from one
of the long bags, along with a couple of short fishing poles.

Long before the stew was really done, they
decided it had cooked long enough and fell to it. Full stomachs
made them sleepy, and they were soon curling up in their bedding,
letting Benjin take the first watch.

* * *

On trembling legs, Nat approached the ruins
of the greatoak grove. Tears filled his eyes as he beheld what had
once been a sacred and beautiful place. Now it looked more like a
battlefield of epic scale, like a vision of what was yet to
come.

Catrin.

This was where she and her friends had come
to camp. They were here when the storm struck. She had to be
connected to the destruction. This place had been undisturbed for
thousands of years, and after only one night in her presence, it
was destroyed. The evidence around him only served to strengthen
his convictions. He had to do something, but he lacked the
resources and connections. There was only one person who could do
what needed to be done: Miss Mariss. Only she was powerful enough
within the Vestrana to make such a decision.

As he crept back to town, sliding from shadow
to shadow, his mind was consumed, trying to find the words to
convince Miss Mariss that he was right. It would not be easy, but
he had to succeed. To fail again would mean certain disaster.

Chapter 7

With dogma and aspiration, one can spin sand
into gold.

--Icar the glassmaker

* * *

In the late morning, Catrin awoke and saw
Benjin looking exhausted. As soon as she stood, he stumbled to his
bedding.

"Don't leave the cavern," he mumbled then
flopped down heavily and fell asleep.

Catrin used a stick to stir the remnants of
the fire, and she added twigs to the glowing coals beneath the ash.
She soon had a fire large enough to boil water. Kettle in hand, she
approached the lake, and it shimmered in the light breeze, its
surface rippling like the scales of a snake. Concentric rings added
to the impression of a giant serpent curled around itself. She
wondered at its beauty, amazed that something so massive and
alluring could lie hidden inside a mountain for ages.

Was something beautiful if no one saw it? Her
life had been that of a farm girl, and she hadn't entertained such
philosophical thoughts that she could recall, but she had changed
lately. Perhaps it was the bizarre events she had experienced
recently, or maybe she was growing up; either way, she knew she
would never be the same. It occurred to her that she and the rest
of the group, with the exception of Benjin, would be growing up
fast.

Curiosity gnawed at her, and she decided to
wet her feet in the lake, if only to conquer her fear of something
grabbing her and pulling her in. She let the water cover her
ankles, finding it curious that little sand or mud covered the lake
floor. The black stone was smooth and cool under her toes, almost
too slick to stand upon. With the kettle filled, she pulled herself
away from the mysterious serpent lake. The entire place intrigued
her and sent her awareness into motion. So much of the cavern was
obscured by darkness; her imagination bridged the gaps with grand
images. Some of her mind's creations filled her with an almost
irresistible desire to explore; others urged her back to the
relative safety of camp.

Walking toward the fire, she looked up at the
distant ceiling, which appeared to be a natural stone formation, in
contrast to the man-made entrance hall. Stalactites reached
inexorably toward the water below. When she looked ahead again, she
saw Chase about to walk into her, his head craned upward. He, too,
was caught up in the majesty of their hideaway, and a fair amount
of water sloshed from her kettle onto his feet when Catrin stopped
short to avoid the collision.

"Sorry," she said.

"No problem. I should've seen you coming.
It's just that this place is so mystifying. It's not that it scares
me or anything, but there's a strange feeling in the air--or
something."

"I know what you're saying, and I feel like
that too. I like it, and yet it frightens me a bit. Let's just sit
by the fire while you dry out."

Strom and Osbourne came over to join them by
the remains of the fire, bringing their mixture of nuts and dried
fruit and hard, dark bread. As their eyes adjusted to the relative
darkness of the cavern, they found they could see quite well
despite the low light. Revitalized by the snack, Chase suggested
they have a look around, and Osbourne agreed to stand guard.

As they skirted the lake, the walls began to
close in, and the rock shoreline tapered to a narrow point, beyond
which the water lapped directly against the nearly vertical walls
of the dome. They couldn't quite make out the far side of the
cavern, but they could make a fair guess at the distance. It was
farther than any of them thought they could swim, not that they
wanted to swim in that ominous-looking water.

The place had a powerful energy, and the
black water brought to mind visions of giant serpents lurking just
below the surface, lying in wait for unsuspecting swimmers. They
had seen no indication of fish or any other creatures in the lake,
but that seemed logical considering the lack of sunlight. They
continued on along the shoreline, which was relatively smooth and
free of debris.

Along the opposite shoreline, Catrin spotted
an irregular shadow against the cavern wall. Moving in for a better
look, they found the remains of the raft Benjin and Wendel had made
years before. It looked as if they had pulled the raft to shore,
stood it up, and propped it against the cavern wall. The logs were
crumbling, and the rope had long since deteriorated, falling away
when Chase gave it a tug. They left it where it was so Benjin could
see it. Perhaps, Catrin thought, it might spark some good
memories.

When they returned to camp, Benjin was
pulling the kettle from the smoldering coals. He strode to the
lake, kettle in hand, and it hissed as he placed it in the cold
water. He dropped the handle and hastily pulled his hand away then
waved to the returning group with a smile.