CASPIAN
There’s a reverence that takes over as our boat gets closer to the shore.
The reality of what we just found is settling on everyone, me included.
As the crystalline blue pillars tower above us, I’m hit with the realization that I’m staring at a city that has been lost for so long it’s become a myth.
Something most people don’t believe exists. And I’m about to explore it.
I barely wait for the boat to scrape the snowy bank before I’m in the shallows.
It’s hard to tell what the original landscape looked like a millenia ago.
The small strip of shore we’re on is the only accessible point.
The rest of the shoreline is steep, jagged ice that looks like large pieces of the land has been shorn away.
If there was a town here below the fortress, it’s long gone.
The slope of the land leads up to what would have been the fortress gate.
Only two tall pillars of blue crystal stand.
The rest of the stone lies in haphazard piles, iced over for so many centuries they hardly look like stone anymore.
Beyond the entrance, towers and turrets encased in glistening ice reflect the sun. The moment I step past the gate, a sense of foreboding takes over the excitement. I can tell Blackwell feels it too from the way his shoulders hunch around his ears and his hand goes involuntarily to his pistol.
“I don’t think those work on ghosts, Captain,” I murmur.
Our footsteps are muffled by the tall snow banks that line either side of us. I find we’re abruptly inside the ruins—the walls having deteriorated long ago. I walk past a wall of clear ice and stop. It’s like I’m witnessing a window into the past.
“Just in case there was any doubt about where we are,” I breathe in awe.
An enclave is on the other side; the stones are painted in brilliant mosaics, and a tapestry hangs on the wall depicting a gold griffin with three swords on a white background. Everyone stops and pauses at the tapestry—it’s like this view just made it even more real than before.
We walk down destroyed hallways, crumbled staircases and towers that have fallen into the inner sanctum of the ground floor. I walk up a spiral staircase that’s mostly intact, and we spread out to look around the massive hall it opens up into.
“Captain,” Harrison calls from up ahead.
He’s standing on the edge of what looks like an old viewing platform of some kind, eyes wide with a look of speechless shock I’ve never seen on his face. I hurry to his side.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp.
Before us is a massive garden sunken into the ground.
Towering pine trees, vibrant orange, purple, pink and white flowers litter the ground—all of it encased in ice.
Preserved as it was at that moment. And in the center is a massive tree.
It’s so tall it shoots up above our heads.
Ice covers it entirely; everything from its large roots to the leaves, and even the delicate vine of white flowers climbing up the trunk.
The entire space sparkles in the shafts of sunlight streaking through the ceiling that’s open to the elements above—like millions and millions of diamonds—it’s a sight I won’t soon forget.
We all stand in awe for what seems like a very long time before I continue along a hallway that runs around the perimeter of the garden.
I’m several yards in front of everyone when a loud crack echoes ominously around us, and the ground under my feet shudders.
It gives way and I’m falling, entering empty air with a jolt of surprise.
Luckily, I don’t fall far—the impact sends needles shooting up my limbs, but it’s what I fell on top of that is concerning. I tangle with it as I scramble along the icy ground to extract myself and turn, only to come face-to-face with a body. A fully intact, human body.
“What the fuck!” I exclaim.
“Caspian!” Blackwell’s voice echoes down to me. I look up to see him and the others looking down at me.
“I’m fine but—” I look back at the dead man who’s just out of their line of sight. “He’s not.”
“What?”
“There’s a body down here.”
I stand up and go over to take a closer look.
Only his right side is out of the ice, which is what I was wrapped up in.
My fall through the ceiling broke open his icy tomb.
He’s wearing clothing of what could be the royal guard, white and gold with an insignia of a griffin on his right shoulder.
My attention snags on his face and a sinking sensation starts to form in my gut.
“Did you say a body?” Van calls down.
“Aye—I think—I think something happened here.”
I look around at the chamber and the feeling worsens.
There are more bodies. Preserved in perfect condition.
The part that is beginning to freak me out is along with keeping their clothing, skin and bodies preserved, it also froze their last expressions on their faces.
And that is what’s bothering me because the emotion captured in their last moments is terror.
“Caspian! Fuck—”
I must have been completely focused on the bodies around me because Blackwell sounds agitated. I move back into his view and give a little wave, smiling slightly at the look of relief that crosses his face.
“I’m here.”
“We’ll throw a rope down,” Blackwell says.
I look once more around the chamber.
“No, you all should come down. I think I’m on the ground floor. The treasure would be in a vault, we need to go deeper.”
Blackwell lands beside me first. Walking over, he crouches down near the body I fell onto.
“I think something happened here,” I say quietly to him while the others descend the rope.
“Like what?”
I shake my head, my eyes drifting to the body. “Look at his face.”
Blackwell’s lips thin when he sees what I mean.
We leave the chamber with the corpses and enter into a long hallway.
Part of it is collapsed, which involves us spending some time shoveling snow and moving frozen rocks enough to make a hole to crawl through.
It’s bone-chillingly cold down here and soon we’re all shivering.
The ice reflects light strangely, and while we’re descending deeper underground, the walls seem to glow with a low blue light—probably refracting the light from the ruins above.
There are more bodies the deeper we move through the fortress and the mood of our party drops as realization sets in—something happened here—something bad. We pass a group of soldiers looking up with terror on their faces, clutching each other .
“Jesus—” Van mutters behind me. “What could have done this?”
I shake my head. I haven’t a clue. We enter another large room and spread out.
Blackwell is walking a few feet in front of me when he slips.
A crack races across the ground, the sound of crumbling stone and cracking ice echo around us.As Blackwell falls, I hear the roar of water explode up from the fissure in the floor.
I don’t think as I see him disappear—I dive for the edge, sliding down into a chute.
Blackwell is several yards down a natural ice tunnel, half submerged in rushing water.
He’s gripping the hilt of his dagger that he’d driven into the ice to stop his descent.
“Rope!” I shout.
I wedge myself a few feet above him, using my own dagger to stop my slide. The rope whispers against my shoulder and I toss it to him. He grabs it, and together we climb out of the chute. I’m immediately at his side.
“Fuck—we need to start a fire,” I order, ripping off his soaked jacket. “That’s enough for today. Let’s camp here.”
We’d brought enough supplies for several days, including things to make a long-lasting fire, warm furs and changes of clothing. Blackwell is rapidly descending into a shivering mess as I tear off his layers as quickly as possible.
“Take it all off, Captain,” I demand.
His teeth are chattering too hard to speak but he looks at me with a glimmer of amusement at the order.
A small smile tugs at my lips but I’m in no mood for humor.
I know how deadly frostbite can be. Van quickly helps Harrison build a fire while the other three crew members set up furs and several canvas tents.
I wrap Blackwell in a few furs and put him near the fire.
Harrison shoves hot stones underneath him.
A bowl of warm broth later, Blackwell’s shivering stops and he waves away my attention.
“I’m fine,” he insists.
I frown down at him. “You’re already frosty enough—I don’t need you actually freezing over on me.”
A ghost of a smile crosses Blackwell’s face as he pulls the furs tighter around his shoulders. I look around at the space that is rapidly darkening as night falls.
“I’ll take first watch,” Van says.
Harrison scoffs. “First watch? For what, ghosts?”
When no one says anything, Harrison’s humor fades and he rubs the back of his neck.
“Fine, I’ll sit with you,” he grumbles.
While I don’t think there’s any danger to us of the human kind, I’m not eager to spend the night with the dead. I’m also not sure if any animals live down here, or how stable everything is. So while keeping watch might be an unnecessary precaution, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
While Harrison and Van sit down beside the fire, the rest of us retire to the tents. I follow Blackwell through the canvas tent flap into the warm, cozy interior. Furs and warm stones have warded the space against the icy chill, and I tug off my shirt and boots with a sigh of relief.
Blackwell is still naked when he crawls under the furs. My hands run across his abs that bunch harshly under my touch.
He hisses. “Fuck—your hands are like icicles!”
I chuckle and kiss his shoulder. “Then warm them up for me.”