Chapter 8 #8
He briefly hesitated, suggesting that he, like Mathi, had been ordered to take care of me. Which was both heartwarming and annoying. I liked—loved?—Cynwrig, despite the short nature of our relationship, but I was also more than capable of looking after myself.
I drew a knife, more to feel the weight in my hand than any sense of immediate danger, and walked on, the light from the headlamp dancing across the walls, catching the quartz, making those rivers gleam and shimmer.
But the closer we got to the lake, the more those luminous rivers took on a bloody hue, and the greater the sense of danger became.
And yet, the knives and the Eye remained mute. Whatever I was sensing, it was a physical threat more than a magical one.
Up ahead, gleaming with an unearthly glow in the headlamp’s bright beam, were what looked to be two Corinthian columns supporting a highly decorated lintel—or architrave, to give it its proper name.
And amongst the leaves and trees carved into what I presumed was quartz, were ellul—eel-like beings with a human face and razor-sharp teeth.
Which was, no doubt, a warning of what lay waiting for us inside the cavern.
My knuckles were almost white with the force of my grip on the knife.
It was tempting, so damn tempting, to simply turn around and look for another means of finding the pectoral, but time was of the essence.
Not only for both of my current searches, but for me overall.
I couldn’t let fear waste precious seconds searching for other options when there was a perfectly good one on the table.
I forced my feet on, my gaze on the darkness beyond the gateway—a darkness that didn’t lift despite the strength of the beam and my growing closeness.
And that could mean only one thing—some sort of barrier lay between the two columns.
So why weren’t the knives reacting?
Did it mean the barrier, whatever it was, posed no threat to me? Most likely. But if that were the case, then the next question had to be—would it pose a problem for everyone else? Given the way these things generally worked, I was guessing the answer would be a definite yes.
I stopped a few feet away. This close, the barrier was very evident—a thick black slab that stretched from one column to the other. No air stirred through it, and no sound crept past it.
But the ellul were waiting for me. I was sure of that, if nothing else.
I shivered and again had to fight the urge to turn around and get the hell out of here.
Bodhrán stopped beside me, his hands on his hips and his expression puzzled. “Whatever that wall is, it isn’t natural.”
“No, but I don’t think it’s magic, either. Or at least, not human magic.”
“Which makes sense, given it’s a godly cavern.” Mathi stopped behind me. “Will your knives slip through it?”
“They should, given we haven’t yet met a substance or magic that they couldn’t.
” Even so, I raised my knife and pressed it forward.
It slid into the thick darkness without effort or reaction.
I hesitated, then stepped forward and pressed my arm into it.
Again, no reaction, though the air beyond the slab of black crawled across my skin with a thick heaviness.
Trepidation stirred anew. I quickly withdrew my arm and then the blade, and glanced at Bodhrán. “You want to give it a try?”
He reached out with his right hand, but before he could actually touch it, the wall rippled, and a thin stream of black whipped out and snapped at his fingers.
“Well,” Lugh said, stopping just behind Bodhrán. “I’m guess that means the rest of us aren’t getting in.”
“Perhaps whatever shields this entrance simply didn’t like me,” Bodhrán commented.
“Unlikely, but—”
Mathi stepped past Bodhrán and reached out. Another whip appeared, snapping with ghostly teeth at his fingers. He barely jerked them back in time.
“I guess that means I am going in alone.” I glanced at Lugh. “You’d better show me how to inflate a raft.”
He swung off his pack and began untying the rafts. “You may have to do this solo, but you will be roped to me, and you will not undo said rope, no matter what happens. Clear?”
“Clear,” I said mildly. “Though it’s not like I untied the last time we found ourselves in this sort of situation.”
“Cutting is the same as untying, Beth, and ellul are not Annwfyn. They don’t have limbs or claws for a start.”
“No, but they’ve got big fucking teeth and a taste for human flesh. I can tell you now, if it’s a choice between slicing the rope and letting those bastards get me, I’m slicing.”
Lugh scowled but otherwise didn’t comment. After handing me the small retractable plastic paddle, he ran through the details on inflating the raft, then pulled the second rope from his pack and tied it onto my harness.
“Be careful in there,” he warned, with big-brother sternness. “Don’t take any risks.”
“It’s not me you have to worry about,” I replied. “It’s the gods and whatever damn tricks they have up their sleeves.”
“Well, if things get bad, shout and we’ll haul you back.”
“The wall may well cut sound, so we’ll use the rope signals again.”
Which was what we’d used when the Annwfyn had attacked, and for much the same reason.
Those signals had saved my life, though I did still bear the scar on my foot where one of the bastards had stuck a claw through my boot.
He’d lost his arm and then his life when Cynwrig had smothered him with liquid stone.
“You remember them?” he asked.
I nodded. “One tug, I’m okay; two, I’m on my way back; three, get me the fuck out of here.”
“Here’s hoping the latter is not required this time.”
“From your lips to the gods’ ears,” I muttered, and slung the raft over my shoulder.
Then, after taking a deeper breath that did absolutely nothing to calm the growing sense of danger, I stepped through the barrier.
It was thick and gelatinous, and it flowed across my body like plastic.
Liquid plastic. My breath caught in my throat; I didn’t dare breathe, lest I sucked the goo into my lungs.
It seemed to take forever to get through it, which made me think that this gateway, like at least one other that we’d come across, was warping either time or distance or maybe even both.
Eventually the goo retreated from my flesh, and I was almost pushed out into a black but oddly airy-feeling space.
The headlamp’s light puddled on the ground at my feet but had no impact overall on the veil of night holding court.
I couldn’t even see the ellul, though I could hear their splashing, could feel the undercurrent of their electricity, a sensation not unlike muted lightning.
I shivered and tugged on the rope to let Lugh know I was through and safe, then dug the Eye from under my protective suit.
The fact that neither it nor the knife were currently pulsing with life suggested no harmful magic lay in this place, but there was obviously something here.
Otherwise, the headlamp would not be so ineffectual.
The Eye pulsed at my touch, and I briefly closed my eyes, imagining the darkness as a thick wall of magic and the knife’s light slicing through it, shattering it.
I had no idea if it would work, but I was now using the triune in ways none of my ancestors ever had.
Besides, I had nothing to lose by trying.
The Eye pulsed again, and this time, the knife responded.
Just as I’d envisaged, bright, blue-white light shot down the blade and leapt from its tip; it hit the black screen a few feet in front of me and crawled across its blanket.
Everywhere it touched, it burned. A low hum began to fill the air and then, with a soft boom, the blanket exploded.
As black soot began to rain around me, the lightning retreated back into the blade, and the headlamp finally revealed what really lay ahead.
The cavern was high and wide, with a forest of stalactites hanging from the ceiling.
There were stalagmites here, too, but they ringed the small island that lay at the very heart of the cavern and provided an almost impregnable fence—one perhaps designed to keep the ellul out.
The altar sat proudly on the island’s crest, gleaming like moonlight in the wash of the headlamp’s light.
I couldn’t see the harp from where I stood but I could hear it.
Its music was sharp and unpleasant and seemed to rise and fall in time with the electric hum of the eels.
Did the fact it was active mean Carla was currently using the blade? From what Beira had said, that seemed likely.
The dark span of water between me and that island practically seethed with the bastards. Right now, their movements were so damn fierce that waves lapped the shore of both the island and the small strip of rock on which I stood.
I really, really, did not want to get into the water.
Aside from the fact there were so damn many of the sharp-faced fucking things, their teeth were long enough—sharp enough—to puncture the raft.
I doubted I’d be able to oar across quickly enough to reach the island if that did happen, so maybe I needed to call on a little extra help. ...
I’d used the air to get myself out of trouble more than once already, so there was no real reason why I couldn’t use it here to get me across to that island. I reached out with my free hand and tried to create a leash of thick air.
Except, it didn’t respond.
Didn’t do anything more than stir sluggishly around my fingertips.
I swore softly. Why couldn’t things be fucking easy for a change?
Because there would be no godly fun to be had if they were...
Fuck the gods and their fucking games.
I angrily tugged the raft from my shoulder and followed Lugh’s instructions.
Once it was inflated, I placed it in the water, then carefully stepped into it.
The ellul immediately swarmed, snapping and tearing at the PVC, ripping into the material with their teeth.
Soft hissing began to fill the air. I swore again, shoved my knife into its sheath, then unfolded the oar and paddled as fast as I could.
It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough.
The elluls’ movements became frantic, the water a mass of rolling, writhing bodies that climbed over each other in their desperation to get at me.
One leapt out of the water and came straight at me, its mouth agape, teeth gleaming sharply.
I whacked it away with the oar, but more were now leaping, both into the boat and straight at me.
I drew a knife and plunged it into the head of the eel tearing into my boot, then lashed backward as another savaged my shoulder.
More ellul flopped into the now sinking raft, and the island remained a good twenty feet away. I needed to do something, and now.
Before I could, the raft tipped over, plunging me into the thick, bitterly cold water.