Chapter 18
How Do You Fancy Your Descent?
Lillian
THESE CAVES ARE much easier to navigate than the ones further south.
Here, pathways and directions are almost too obvious.
Full of glistening cavernous rooms, we stop to take in the glittering rocks.
If we were here for other reasons, I’m sure I could spend ages exploring and cataloguing the different formations.
Even as we adventure deeper into the mountain, the air stays light.
A slight whir of a breeze stays present at all times, practically pulling us through to the other side.
The soft floor beneath us is stable, and there is evidence of a settlement.
Old torches are dug into the sides of many corridors, further showing us a path through.
It’s a gentle comfort to know that they all stand ready to be lit.
Who knows how much longer our battery-powered torches can remain steady?
The whispers have been silent; nothing but the whistling of airflow and the breathing of my companions fills the space behind me.
Ben stays at my side as the two of us lead the way.
We don’t dare talk. I think we’re pretending that if we were silent we would be able to hear anyone coming up behind us, but I think we both know that there wouldn’t be anything to talk about even if we wanted to.
Each person is taking this final stretch as their own personal journey.
I can see the way Ben’s jaw is permanently clenched; his belief on keeping me safe is set in stone.
Margaret, completely unlike herself, is acting paranoid and distancing herself further and further.
She’s been that way since the mudslide. Diederick is so completely ready for this all to be over.
James and Mr. Bennett silently focus on every possible scenario.
Ademir and Bruno continuously wrestle with their need to protect me and the sanctity of the land they love so deeply.
Oliver, well, I don’t know about him—quiet as ever, I suppose.
Then there’s me.
I’m making my best effort at being a leader, at calling the shots. But somewhere at the surface of my conscience there’s the knowledge of the trials I will be facing very soon.
As if he can sense the spiral, Ben reaches out a hand and laces his fingers in mine. “Steady your breathing,” he whispers from beside me. “Nothing in here is going to hurt you.”
It’s not what’s in this cave that I’m worried about.
“One minute at a time, remember?” I squeeze his hand in answer and try to calm myself.
The silence continues until we come to a fork. Ahead and to the left is an opening that comes up to my shoulders. To the far right is a wider path that seems to descend. I reach down the bond to whatever spirit might be watching and ask for direction. There’s nothing but silence.
I let my bag slip from my shoulder and sigh.
“What?” James asks, coming to a sharp stop behind me. “Doesn’t your journal tell you where to go?”
“No,” Diederick answers for me. “No, not specifically.”
“Can I have a look?” James asks, jutting out a hand. I don’t even care that he doesn’t believe us. Leaning over, I procure it for him and drop it into his hands. Let him waste his time looking.
“Do we split up?” Oliver asks, also dropping his heavy pack into the dirt. He’d been so hidden behind the rest of the group that I’d nearly forgotten he was here.
Margaret drops to the floor and kicks her feet out in front of her. “You bloody crew can do whatever you’d like, but I’m sitting right here until a decision is made.”
Ben pinches the bridge of his nose before turning toward the tunnel on the right. “What do you think?” he asks me specifically. “What’s your gut telling you?”
Ben’s always been able to make me feel like I matter, and at this moment, I feel as though my opinion is the only thing that he will take into account. It’s a beautiful blessing to feel that way, but it also feels like an excruciating burden.
Gripping my necklace, I step forward and try to distance myself from the others. I wait for a hum, a slight glow, a whisper, anything to give me a sign on which path to take.
Mr. Bennett grumbles from behind us. “She clearly has no idea.”
I know the pressure is on me. I also know that one of these passageways will lead us out from beneath this mountain to the front gates of the Lost Colony. At best, the other path leads to a dead end. At worst, it leads us to our deaths.
Knowing I have no real answer, Diederick wanders forward and ponders. “Perhaps both of them are a way through.”
“Do we have the time to guess?” James asks, coming up behind us.
He’s long since let the journal hang at his side.
He takes one step closer to Margaret, inviting her to ease back against his shins.
She tilts her head back and closes her eyes.
“If one is a dead end or leads to something dangerous, will we have time to turn around and go the other way?”
Diederick goes toward the opening on the left and peers inside. All at once, I feel a swelling hiss come up from the right. I feel myself fall to the floor, and then I’m lost to time.
A flow of people disperse to either side of me, sprinting. No one stops to talk; no one seems to even notice me. They rise from the tunnel on the right, scrambling over each other to break free.
A man with a sword stands to guard the opening on the left. His eyes scan the room until they rest on me. He shakes his head. He makes no move to escape with the others.
Agonizing screams echo through the chambers, ripping my attention back to the right path. Children cry out in terror; grown men weep. A horrible shadow lapping at their heels laughs. Still more people come through, coughing at the inky black shadow extending its claws along the slick, stone walls.
“Lillian!”
I come to with a sharp gasp of air. “The right!” Heaving air into my lungs as if I’d been submerged in water again, I throw myself onto my side and try to regain myself. “We need to take the one on the right.”
“Christ,” Mr. Bennett says, scrambling backwards. “What the hell was that?”
“A vision,” Ben growls. He takes my hand and helps me to sit gradually. Bruno and Ademir are also at my back, steadying me. It was a vision, but one unlike the others. I’d asked to be shown something specific, and the wish had been granted. I fear what will be asked of me in fair trade.
Ben grips my shoulder harder, his best attempt to keep me here with them on this astral plane. “I’d appreciate it if you would stop questioning her. Get her some water.” He reaches out a hand demanding it of anyone.
Someone clears their throat, and then Diederick speaks, “We’re out of water.”
That throws hot flames on the situation. Mr. Bennett accuses Diederick of not keeping track; Diederick says Oliver wasn’t sticking to the rations. More bickering continues, even as I find my feet.
“It doesn’t matter what happened,” I say calmly. “There should be a water source somewhere along the way.”
James asks a question this time. “And how do you know that?” It’s not judgmental, only curious.
“The right path descends. The lowest points of the cave will hold water, or it should if it’s like any of the caves I’ve studied.”
I’m not certain that an underground river or lake would exist in this particular cave, but with a need for water, it’s enough of a theory to get people moving again. We gather the scraps of what we have left and descend.
I can’t help but eye the tunnel to our left as we pass by. What would someone find down there? Perhaps the world will never know. For the first time, not knowing feels more than okay with me.