Chapter 18
18
Eisriesenwelt Caverns, Werfen Austria
Morgan stared at the stairway leading up the steep mountain and grimaced. The wooden railings twisted and curved like a switchback, which always made her stomach queasy.
Small sections of the path sported a roof, leading her to believe the rocky face wasn’t as secure as it looked. She noticed many large boulder overhangs and shook her head. “Those roofs wouldn’t protect a fly if those boulders decided to leave the mountain.”
Rafael chuckled. “True, but I’m certain those chosen to maintain the cave system and the entrance access regularly check to ensure everything is safe. A collapse during the height of tourist season would do nothing for their profit, now would it?”
She glared at him but couldn’t keep her gaze from returning to the imposing mountain. “When did you become so logical?”
He shrugged and pulled her close. “I always have been, but no one seems to pay attention.”
Makari let out a bark of laughter, surprising all three of them. “Any moment, your head will begin spinning on your shoulders, and the world will collapse around us for that lie. You decide things by the seat of your Spanish pants, my friend. Logic has nothing to do with it. Fáelán and Kilian are logical. The rest of us? Not so much.”
He swiped his paw down his long face, but his grin remained, and he clapped Rafael on the shoulder, the force pushing him and Morgan closer to the edge of the gondola’s platform that, if running, would have taken them over the steepest part of the climb.
However, much to Morgan’s disgust, the club that managed the tourists and maintained the mountain had already closed for the year. The weather was unpredictable this high in the Alps, and the winter storms had already begun.
Her gaze moved to the darkening clouds gathering in the distance. “Umm, if we’re going to beat that storm, we’d better get moving. From what I heard when we stopped in Salzburg, the storm that hit last week was so bad, all the cave tours had to be canceled, which is why this cave is already closed for the winter. I was hoping for electricity inside.”
Rafael gave her a slight push toward the path. “True. We need to get moving. In battle, you would make óeinn’s Valkeries proud with how you fight the Ironclaws. Do not let your courage fail you now. And where’s your sense of romance? Have I not proven to you how romantic dark caves can be?”
“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “Tell that to my queasy stomach. I hate heights. Gwyn is the one who climbs to the top of things, not me. If the caves are as deadly as the path leading to them, you can just keep your hands to yourself—unless it’s to save me from falling into a deep crevice.”
She ignored his low chuckle behind her and dug deep, finding a tiny kernel of courage, carefully following Makari along the path as it led up the mountain. Now and then, she would hug the wall, refusing to look at the sheer drop-off as the path curved around the rocky face and, instead, kept her gaze focused on Makari’s black fur to her right. It was the fantastic views, though, that kept her moving higher. They were, quite literally, breathtaking.
Finally, after about a twenty-minute hike, they stood before the cave doors. With a wave of one hand, Rafael opened the large doors and stared into the vast round hole. Stepping inside the mountain, the sun’s light disappeared, and blackness greeted them with an icy breeze.
Morgan shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Why didn’t either of you remind me to bring a heavier winter coat?” she asked. “And a hat. Maybe an extra sweater too—oh, and woolen leggings.”
“Morgan, you’re Fae. Just summon what you need and stop griping,” Makari muttered. “Now, where is the demon meeting us?”
She smacked her forehead with one hand. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?” She pictured her favorite sweater, long woolen stockings, and a warm hat that covered her ears. Once those items were in place, she decided on her black-tufted ski coat to keep her nice and toasty. While she had never worn it for skiing, she loved wearing it on animal rescues. Spending hours outdoors in the dead of winter necessitated a heavy coat, and this one would be more than perfect for an ice cave.” With a wide grin, she glanced at Rafael, who had changed into his wolf form.
“While that’s cheating and unfair, I’m quite happy with my achievement.”
Rafael gave her a wolfy grin and pulled her deeper into the cave, leading her to a small shelf near the entrance where the cave lanterns were stored. “Zhivko will appear in his own good time, probably when he can. Moving on the astral plane takes a lot of energy, especially between worlds. It’s difficult enough when you can do it in the same room.”
He handed her a lantern and turned it on, the soft white light highlighting the ice in front of them. She stared in wonder as they followed the narrow pathway deeper into the mountain. The blue and white horizontal lines running alongside them in the thick ice reminded her of wallpaper but on a much grander scale.
The tunnel opened, and her eyes widened. Spreading out before them was a beautiful cavern with waterfalls of icicles curtaining the pathway. She stopped in one of the empty spots between the icicles and stared at one of the most gorgeous sites she had ever seen. The entire cavern glowed blue from the pure, glacial ice.
“This is more amazing than the glow worms,” she whispered.
She noticed the two wolves hadn’t stopped and carefully sped up, glad she had worn rubber-soled boots to prevent slipping on the path’s slick surface. When Makari and Rafael disappeared into what looked like another tunnel, she slowed to glance once more at the breathtaking site, then hurried into the tunnel. The two wolves weren’t there.
Exiting the tunnel, she found herself staring at a person-sized stalagmite. Moving around it, another one stood about halfway through the strange area. The space was too wide for a tunnel and too narrow for a room, but at least she didn’t feel claustrophobic. She inhaled, not realizing she could smell cold, but she could. It was a fresh smell, not dank or earthy like the caves she was used to.
She continued along the pathway, knowing Makari and Rafael wouldn’t leave her or get too far ahead of her, so she slowed, taking her time to see the beauty surrounding her. The next cavern was the largest yet, with a giant flowstone at one end. She narrowed her gaze, studying the scene, and realized it looked like it was on a stage, and the flowstone was the feature. “That’s so cool,” she whispered.
“Not as cool as you will be,” a deep voice said behind her.
Before she could turn, a rag covered her face, the familiar odor of chloroform filling her nostrils . She held her breath as long as she could, but after a minute, she couldn’t take the pain in her lungs and inhaled. The room blurred into a sea of blue, and her eyes slowly closed.
* * *
Rafael’s anxiety increased as he and Makari raced back through the caverns to find Morgan. “She was right behind us—where could she go? There’s only one main tunnel leading from cavern to cavern.”
Morgan? He waited for her response, but only a heavy silence answered him. Morgan—answer me! Nothing.
“No, a few led off to smaller sections, but she didn’t have time. She would have had to get ahead of us somehow to reach the first offshoot,” Makari said, interrupting Rafael’s motion as he turned back. “Rafael, stop.”
Fighting the instinct to continue searching for Morgan, he did as his friend commanded and turned to see him sniffing the air, a focused expression on his face. He knew that expression well. Makari was one of the best trackers he had ever seen, and right now, he was focused on something. Hopefully, it was Morgan. “What is it? Can you track her?”
“I can, but there’s another scent with hers—more than one, actually. I smell a chemical…” He raised his head and moved to one side of the path, sniffing several areas. “Chloroform.” His gaze speared Rafael’s.
“She wouldn’t need that in here,” Rafael said, his worry growing.
“I don’t think she was the one using it. I smell something not human—wilder. He smells of the forest but not human.” He sniffed again and growled low in his throat. “I smell the three wolves who said they escaped Kristof’s control.”
Rafael frowned. “Are you certain? Neither Gwyn nor Morgan sensed any lies coming from them. Morgan is rarely wrong, and Gwyn’s abilities are even stronger than her sister’s.”
“The scents don’t mix. The werewolves’ smell is stronger than Morgan’s, and whoever has her, so you may be right. They could be tracking her or helping the enemy while watching for us.”
His black gaze met Rafael’s. “There’s a reason I don’t trust easily, brother. Few have given me good cause. In all the centuries I have lived, I have trusted only six beings with my life. These three are unknowns, and I do not like unknowns.”
“Makari, I didn’t sense evil intentions from them—just the opposite. I have a few…gifts…of my own, and I did not sense any malice on their part.”
“Then we need to figure out why they are here and if it’s just a coincidence that they showed up at the same time Morgan disappeared.”
Rafael rubbed at the growing tightness in his chest. If something had happened to her… Why hadn’t Morgan reached out to him through their mental link? He also couldn’t fault Makari’s cynicism. He, too, would question the three newcomers.
Finding them here was suspicious, but who was the other person? Makari said whoever it was wasn’t human. Fae, maybe? Or worse…Bres. If he had her, the fight against Fer-Diorich was over before it began. He would never keep her alive.
His gut clenched tight, the need to find her overwhelming.
* * *
Morgan’s body floated like a pool, but the icy chill covering her skin was anything but pool weather. Slowly, her other senses cleared, and she felt a large hand in the middle of her back. Raising her head, she forced her eyes open and found she was, indeed, floating through a tunnel.
“Finally, you’re awake,” the stranger said, lowering her to the stone floor.
She wobbled, her legs feeling weaker than she liked, but a tingling slowly set in as feeling returned with her strength. Before she was ready, though, the man’s hard push against her shoulder blades shoved her forward. Stumbling along the rough-cut ground, she exited the tunnel and found herself in another cave.
“Here is another hole you can crawl down. If you need the aid, there’s a rope curled up by the wall. I’m sure you still feel a little jittery from the sleeping spell. I’m afraid it takes a while to wear off, but it was all I could think to use in the circumstances. The chloroform wasn’t strong enough to keep you asleep.”
He pushed her forward again, guiding her to the far side of the large cavern. Staring down into what looked like a crack between the floor and wall, she hesitated. “You call that a hole?” Rafael would never find her if she managed to crawl through the narrow space. The wolves, however, would never be able to fit their much larger bodies through that crack.
“Go or fall, it doesn’t matter to me.”
Exhaling her annoyance at the man’s callousness, she found toeholds and small ledges for her fingers as she made her way down to the next level of the mountain. She was grateful for all the years of experience climbing with Gwyn for their animal rescues. Not that she minded the small heights. She loved those. It was the alpine heights she couldn’t handle.
Memorizing the small niches she could grab onto or even perch on, her brain raced. In the back of her mind, she needed to figure out a way to escape from whoever was forcing her downward, deeper into the mountain’s bowels. The thin light from the cave lantern, now in the hands of her abductor, wasn’t enough to show her how far down she had to go, but her Fae intuition told her it was a long way.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t a tunnel she stepped into but an open cave, and she was only halfway to the floor. Perched on a narrow ledge, she tilted her head, the crack she had crawled through winking as the man’s torch moved into the upper room. Her gaze followed a trail of water seeping in from the entrance. It separated, one section dripping down a nearby stalactite and the other flowing downward.
“Soillseachadh,” she whispered into the darkness, praying the man above her had not heard her. Rafael? The light in the cavern grew until shadows deepened around the various flowstones and the stalagmites and stalagmites growing in the massive cavern. She almost missed the ice, but the air on this level was warmer than where they had been. Why couldn’t she reach Rafael?
She sat on the ledge and, with a quick prayer, slid over the side. As slick as the stone was from the water, she made it to the cave’s floor in a mere second. As the pale, creamy light shimmered around her, she turned and stared in awe at the spectacular sight.
A vast, silky white flowstone fall cascaded directly in front of her. The light caught and glittered off what she thought looked like gems of some kind in the walls around it, reminding her of sparklers she and Gwyn played with when they were young.
The man appeared beside her. “You aren’t a caver, or you wouldn’t be so mesmerized by simple minerals. And why didn’t you apparate me down here, too?”
She scowled. “Too? Who apparated? I slid down like a caver.” She crossed her arms and smirked, wishing she could see his face better. All she could make out was the tip of his nose and glowing eyes.
“Continue along the lefthand path,” he demanded, ignoring her. Something sharp poked into her side. It was probably his finger, but she wasn’t taking any chances without knowing if he had a weapon.
Following orders, she stepped around the fall and into another room. Hearing the man’s footsteps behind her, she carefully edged forward. Rafael, where are you? It was as if their connection had been severed.
She made her way around the giant structure, feeling the pull of magic strengthen the moment she walked around it. Stopping abruptly, she found herself in a hallway too small to walk through but large enough to crawl into.
“Crawl through the tunnel,” the man demanded.
Morgan dropped to her hands and knees. Glancing at the tunnel roof, she noticed a long crack traveling lengthwise and didn’t like how one side hung lower than the other. The last thing she needed was to be trapped in the bowels of this mountain. Rafael would never find her.
Peering into the darkness ahead, she called on her Fae magic, seeing through the eyes of a wolf. Now, if she could get Rafael to answer her. Something was off about the tunnel. She didn’t like it but had no idea why.
The feeling invading her senses was hesitant, a prickly feeling as if warning her to turn around. She couldn’t sense any protection wards or other minor spells cast on the tunnel, but her magic was still in its infancy compared to others, such as demons, vampires, and the Fae.
The man shoved her forward, and she could only shake off the hesitation. Crawling forward again, the pull returned. Whatever was at the end of this tunnel called to her. Halfway through, an overwhelming sadness hit, as if her heart were breaking. Tears silently slipped down her cheeks, hitting the rock floor below.
Morgan paused in her forward movements, letting whatever was in the tunnel touch her mind and senses. “What is that?” she asked, hoping for an answer.
Straining her hearing, she finally discerned individual voices, both men’s and women’s, their voices haunting, as if all the joy had been sucked away. Little by little, her spirit dimmed. The hope she had when entering this mountain slipped away and was replaced by grief.
“You are absorbing their sorrow, are you not?” her captor whispered. “Listen to the sadness in their souls. You can help them, Morgan. All they want is to escape the Dark Havens. Their magic is depleted from their long journey back, but yours is strong. They feel that strength and need it, Morgan. Step away from the tunnel and move to the center of the cave. Read from the book on the pedestal and help free them.”
Morgan, do not listen! Tune them out—leave that place! Rafael’s voice broke through. You cannot help them. They are Soul Searchers looking for a portal to escape the Dark Havens where they were sent. It is too close to Samhain—with the veil so thin, they can use you to escape. Where are you, mi pequeno?
A brief flicker of relief flowed through her, only to be replaced by the incessant sorrow. Where have you been? I’ve been calling for you. All I know is after the chloroform wore off, we traveled downward, maybe a couple of levels from the ice cave—past a large flowstone.
Her captor’s hand tightened around her arm as he led her closer to the pedestal. She knew something was wrong but couldn’t shake whatever drew her closer to her destination.
Glancing to her left, she finally caught a glimpse of the man who had abducted her. He was slender with long blond hair and had the Fae beauty. His pale lilac eyes told her who he was more than anything else. They had an evil glow about them.
“You’re Bres, aren’t you?”
His blond brows rose in surprise. “I know you have never seen me before, so how did you guess?”
She ignored the question. “What are you going to do with me? I will not help you release the Soul Searchers, so think again.” She closed herself to everything, knowing she couldn’t trust anything around her, including her hearing. Hopefully, the Soul Searchers were only in the tunnel. If not, she’d worry about what to do then.
“There is so much more at stake than that. You are not here to release them…per se. While your being here has stirred up things, all you will do is stay here in this cavern for a bit.”
Her inner warning system screamed at her. There was something off about this man. His aura was a muddy mixture of greens and browns with a narrow streak of black running through it. While he wasn’t evil, he had a cruel streak, but his conviction threw her. It was as if he believed what he was doing was right.
“And the podium? Why is that in here?” she asked, eying the overly large open tome on top. Her feet involuntarily moved, drawing her closer. She tried to stop but found herself inching closer anyway, her fingers practically itching to touch the book.
“Strictly for your reading pleasure, my dear. The book is filled with ancient history and exciting, old stories about battles and good versus evil. That sort of thing.”
She now stood before the massive book, the gilded pages exquisite in their design. Whoever the artist had been was exceptional. Not even Fáelán’s oldest books had this much artistic detail. The words were done in a fancy scrollwork and were, for lack of a better adjective, perfect. Morgan wished Gwyn could see it. She would appreciate the time and talent it had taken to create such a masterpiece.
Scrolling down the page with her finger, she began reading the story written by an ancient Fir Bolg druid to his king. The story was a warning, telling the king to beware and that hundreds of warriors would cross the ocean with many kinds of death. A ritual would need to be performed to protect the people from the evil journeying toward them—an evil that would end their kingdom…
Morgan inhaled, the ice-laden air filling her lungs, but she wasn’t cold. She felt warm and toasty. Her gaze moved around the cave, noticing the limestone walls and the hundreds of stalactites hanging above her body. Turning, she stepped back and noticed Bres, the gleeful expression on his face as he stared at her backside.
Holding up her hands in front of her face, her eyebrows rose. She could see the cave floor through her palms. She ran her hands up and down her body, feeling her curves and the thick material of her coat, but stared at her body still facing the podium.
Suddenly, her body jerked, and her spirit form moved upward, soaring through the mountain and out into the storm-filled sky. With a burst of light, she flew through the heavens and landed in a heap on a carved stone floor. Pressing her palms against the cold rock, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, not wanting to see where she had been sent.
A low chuckle sounded behind her, and she scrambled to her feet and turned. Sitting in what looked like a macabre bone chair was the last person she wanted to see. Dressed in black pants, shirt, and boots was the Dark Fae. She wanted to kick herself. How could she have been so stupid? She knew better than to read from a strange book.
“Welcome to my domain, Morgan Dubois, granddaughter of Morrigan.” Fer-Diorich tilted his head, his mouth curving into a pleased sneer.