LIADAN II

  Guillaume’s body was completely limp, his skin was cool to the touch and pallid. Liadan wished she had a blanket to wrap around his lanky body. Why was she not able to help him? What was wrong with her? He had risked his life to save hers and now he was slipping away. “You need to wake up Guillaume, you need to be alright,” she pleaded as she rocked his body gently. The Jotling’s mouth went slack and no breath rasped out of it. This was bad, this was really, really bad. Liadan needed to put her own struggles aside and find help for Guillaume. She did not have time to mope or feel sorry for herself. “Eógan?” she called into the gloom, “we need a healer.”

  Eógan bounded out of the dark tunnel, Esker’s scuffling steps followed close behind. The Tengu was covered in small scrapes and gashes, drying purple blood ran down her face and shoulders. “Has he stirred?” Eógan asked softly as he peered down at Guillaume.

  “No,” Liadan could barely choke out the word. “Esker are you injured?”

  “Superficially,” Esker replied with her typical stoicism. “We must get Guillaume to my people and find him a doctor.”

  “Do you want me to heal you?” Liadan asked. She desperately wanted to feel useful, to be able to help someone.

  “There is no time,” Esker said as she gathered up Guillaume in her arm, “we must hurry.” Without waiting for a response, the Tengu made her way further into the cave.

  Eógan started to follow, but stopped and asked, “How are you holding up lass?”

  “I feel like I am falling to pieces, I even struggle to use my powers.” To demonstrate Liadan tried to summon light in her hand, she failed to generate even a flicker.

  “You are stronger than you think,” Eógan consoled, uncustomarily earnest. The Pecht seemed changed. He offered her a hand, which she took as she got to her feet. Neither of them let go for a long moment, his eyes searched hers.

  “We should catch up to Esker.” Liadan broke the tension and pulled her hand away.

  ———

  Liadan was out of her element and in an unfamiliar environment. The tunnel they followed from the exit of the dungeon had a distinct aura to it. She could not pinpoint all it made her feel: despite the unadorned features and simplicity, it exuded reverence. The glowing fungus had at one point been clearly cultivated, the prevalence was too periodic to be accidental. Her mind was full of questions to ask Esker, yet the hallowed nature of the cave and the ordeal they had all been through stilled her tongue. She was happy to listen to her companions chatting and managed a smile at their banter when they bickered.

  “What did you except us to do down here without you? Sally forth and say, ‘oh hello devils who do not speak our language or know who we are, having a good day?’” Eógan pranced about to emphasize his point.

  “I…” Esker’s features tensed, then relaxed. “You make a good point, I did not think beyond saving you in the moment.”

  The Pecht danced around a bit more, which appeared to dissipate his fury. “No more sacrifices!” He pointed his finger accusingly, first at Esker, then down at Guillaume’s limp body in her arm. “Whatever it is we are supposed to accomplish, we are meant to do it together,” he said, full of conviction.

  “How do you know?” Liadan muttered. The other two seemed surprised that out of the trio, she had been the one to ask this.

  “Lady Galdr told us,” Eógan answered, as if that was a comprehensive explanation.

  Esker nodded her head in agreement. “More than coincidence has brought us together. The signs we have repeatedly discovered that prove our people were once joined, offer irrefutable evidence.” The Tengu’s enormous eyes stared into Liadan’s. “I cannot speculate as to why the four of us were chosen, but I know that we have a task to fulfill.”

  “And what if we do not succeed?” Liadan snapped back, unsure what sparked such strong emotion within her.

  “All we can do is try,” Eógan added simply. “If that does not work, we dust ourselves off and try even harder!” Esker smiled at her.

  Liadan felt her angst and frustration begin to thaw. “Has he introduced you to his spear?” Liadan asked.

  Esker gave her a strange look. “Are you referring to his,” the Tengu paused and waggled her littlest finger.

  “Oi, it is quite bigger than that!” Eógan protested. A moment later, “Wait, your hand is quite big. Thanks friend!” Eógan grinned at the Tengu. The Pecht then peered into the darkness and stealthily made his way forward. “Oh bloody hell, not another puzzle,” he groused. As Liadan joined him, she could see that the end of the hallway was sealed. What appeared to be large stone mechanisms interlocked in a complicated fashion.

  Esker sucked air from between her sharp teeth. “This looks dangerous, but the technology is of my people, I will examine this device.” She put Guillaume down gently and carefully made her way towards the panel. Her steps were cautious and Esker studied the walls and ceiling of the corridor as she went. When she reached the end, she extended her hand ever so slowly. Liadan braced herself, not know what to expect. “It is worse than I thought,” Esker rumbled down the echoing tunnel. The Tengu clenched her jaw as she reached towards a bar like protrusion, gripping it with her large hand. Closing her eyes and turning away, she pulled the lever. “It is a door.” The laughter in her voice was unmistakable, she held her hand in front of her mouth as she tittered. Ancient dust swirled around Esker’s silhouette, her large eyes glowed like beacons in the low light.

  “Oh fuck me, I near shit myself.” Eógan put his free hand on his brow. Liadan’s heart was still racing, she laughed, glad for the giddy release. “Can you hold this… er him.” Eógan said haltingly. At first Liadan assumed he meant Guillaume, but the Pecht instead was offering the spear.

  “Of course,” Liadan answered and took the spear reverently with both hands, not sure what would happen. Nothing did, it felt like an ordinary spear to her. Eógan gathered up Guillaume in both of his arms. Together they walked down the rest of the passage towards Esker, unsure where this portal would lead.

  ESKER II

  Esker unfurled the harvestman’s limb from her shoulder and stepped forward into a dusty crypt. The expansive chamber was illuminated by a dim light, it emitted from an alcove that ran along the circumference of the ceiling. She was unsure of the source, it did not appear to be natural.

  Breathtaking Tengu carvings adorned the stone walls, intricate in their details and periodically dotted with archaic writing. Each section was a piece of an epic sage, explaining how sage geomancers were able to seal a massive dragon deep within the earth. Figures representative of the Gaídel and the Pechts also made periodic appearances, making Esker rue how much of her rich heritage was lost when her people had turned away from religious tradition. This chamber appeared to be an honored burial site: stone sarcophaguses were displayed on elevated platforms, beautifully individualized. Esker was dismayed to see that some of these graves had toppled, presumably due to the furious vibrations of the cave-in. Several of the stone slabs had slid off of their pedestals and shattered against the floor, spilling out the salt crystals that had been used preserve the body within. As Esker went over to see if she could reset one of these fallen graves, Eógan and Liadan entered the chamber.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “It is quite dark in here,” Liadan said, moving cautiously into the room with the spear in her hand. It was easy for Esker to forget how unsuited the surface dwellers eyes were for underground conditions.

  “Ay, it is a bit dim in here,” Eógan grunted as he lowered Guillaume to the floor, adjusting the Jotman’s satchel so that his head could rest atop it. The spectral owl on the Pecht’s chest was glowing, a similar twinkle was in his eyes. “Is there something behind you?” he called out to Esker.

  “Oh, the remains in this burial chamber have been disturbed. I will put them back in their pl-” swift movement interrupted Esker, her legs were knocked out from under her by a powerful force. She toppled to the dusty floor. Liadan screamed as Eógan snatched the spear from her hands and scrambled to help.

  Shriveled skin wrapped taut over bones and sinew clawed at Esker as a large corpse leveraged to pin her down. Its bone structure was decidedly larger than the undead they had battled within the dungeon and its sharp pointed teeth were unmistakably Tengu. Eógan roared as he launched through the air and swung the butt of his spear into the left wrist of Esker’s assailant. The bones shattered into fragments, raining debris.

  The mummy’s eye sockets glowed with purple energy as it studied the stump where its hand used to be. It released its right hand grip on Esker’s leg and braced itself on the floor, pressing the severed wrist into the stone tiles. As it drew its arm back, a fully formed and claw-like hand made of stone was revealed. The mummy flexed and articulated its new hand. The casual display of advanced geomancy sent Esker scrabbled backwards. Nearby, another desiccated Tengu freed itself from the rubble of its sarcophagus.

  “This keeps getting bloody worse,” Eógan stated sarcastically as he took in the extent of the situation.

  “What happened?” Liadan called out, “I cannot see anything.”

  “Then turn on the fucking lights!” Eógan snapped.

  “I am trying,” Liadan cried back with frustration.

  Esker stood and took stock of their assailants: both mummies were imposing figures, adorned with stone trinkets covered in religious iconography. The ancient silken robes they wore were nearly as well preserved as their skin. When the nearest mummy approached, the one with the stone hand, Esker let her weapon hang ready. The other mummy carefully maneuvered around the fallen sarcophagus towards Liadan.

  “Help her,” Esker said simply to Eógan as she launched herself towards the nearest mummy. The undead creature was fast, yet she was faster. As it braced to grapple her, she lurched to the side and swept its front leg with the harvestman’s limb. The barbs caught on the back of its calf, tearing dry skin and grating against bone. The mummy raked at her with stone claws as it tumbled onto its back. She was able to sidestep the blow and positioned herself out of its reach.

  Meanwhile, Eógan flew through the air, whirling the shaft of his spear in a blur. The mummy he faced stooped low, sweeping both hands along the floor. The tiles melted like soft clay, flowing upward in a liquid like state and enveloping the spear. Eógan cried out in alarm as the stone hardened, drawing his hands back before they were trapped within the stone. He cried out again when the mummy backhanded him across the chamber. His head struck the floor as he fell and he lay dazed in a pool of his own blood.

  Esker wanted to help her friends, but could not, she was in equal danger. She abandoned her weapon and reached into the floor, parting the stone. She guided it around her fist, creating a brittle gauntlet, and drew it back, ready to strike. The mummy lowered its clawed hand and stared at her, purple magic swam in its eye sockets.

  Liadan shrieked as light flickered from her hands, strobing painfully for Esker. The mummy nearest to Liadan appeared to move in staccato beats each time the light flared. She tried to drag Guillaume away from it, but reluctantly abandoned him when the mummy quickly closed the distance. Liadan cowered with her arms upraised as she backed into a wall. The mummy ignored Guillaume’s limp body and continued its relentless approach.

  Esker was desperate, it was clear she and her companions were overmatched in their current state. She slowly dropped her stone encased fist down to her side and bowed to the mummy with the clawed hand. It did not move. “Can you understand me?” she asked.

  The mummy’s jaw opened and closed, mirroring the syllables of speech, yet no sound emitted. The creature lifted its hand towards its throat, as if confused by the situation. Across the room, Liadan trembled as the other mummy loomed over her. It stopped to watch the interaction between Esker and the stone handed mummy.

  Esker felt ridiculous as spoke in an archaic dialect, “Whilst thou allow me to return thee to rest?” The mummy stared at her, then seemed to smile. The stretched skin along its cheek bones was a grim sight. Curiously, the purple glow in its eye socket waned, changing to the color of the green flame braziers in the dungeon. It nodded its head in ascent and turned to the fallen sarcophaguses. Steps thudded as the other mummy came to join it. “Liadan,” Esker called out, “please check on Eógan and Guillaume. I will try to help put these ancestral Tengu to rest.”

  “Be careful Esk, I do not think we are safe.” Both mummies turned their heads towards Liadan as she spoke, the one with the clawed hand opened its mouth in silent laughter.

  “They can understand both of us,” Esker muttered, amazed at how different the world of her ancestors must have been. She turned towards the two mummies and asked, “Whilst thou permit me to touch thine sarcophagus?” She received another nod of assent in answer. The closest slab was primarily broken into two large pieces, jagged cracks had loosened and scattered smaller fragments onto the floor. Esker knelt and drew these missing bits together, reshaping the missing gaps. She managed to form the correct shape, but the grain and texture now mismatched the original cover of the sarcophagus.

  The mummy that had terrorized Liadan, stepped close and put a boney hand on her shoulder. Esker froze, unsure of what was to come next. The mummy touched its chest with its free hand and slightly bowed its head to her. It then extended that hand to the surface of the slab. Energy poured through Esker, in a rush that made her gasp. Her stone sense refined by several magnitudes, she could feel the granular control that the mummy had over the very composition of the stone. How it coaxed the proper texture out of the portion she had tried to repair, seamlessly blending it into the whole. She was awed. She bowed deeply, until her forehead touched the floor. “Thank you generous master,” she used the highest honorifics that she could think of.

  The mummy gripped her shoulder with frightening strength. For a moment Esker was unsure if she had inadvertently offended it. The mummy put its other hand to the thick agate armlet on its upper arm. Weaving its spindly fingers, the band of the jewelry parted and it slid down to hang loosely on its forearm. It released the vise grip on her shoulder and then with both hands proffered the armlet to Esker. A tear ran down her face in gratitude, she extended her upper arm to the mummy. It wrapped the agate above her bicep and resealed the band to hold it in place.

  “Thank you for this honor,” she murmured. Standing, she gathered the closest part of the sarcophagus slab, bent low with her back straight and heft it up onto the pedestal. The two mummies were busy repairing and lifting the other stone coffin back onto the other platform. As she squatted to lift the large piece that remained on the floor, the mummy that had gifted her the armlet approached the opposite side. Together they raised it back on top. Now all that remained was the coarse salt crystals which had spilled out of the stone coffins and aided in preserving the mummies. Esker grabbed a handful, but most of the salt slipped between her fingers.

  The mummy looked down at her and again laughed silently, its skin and tendons making a disconcerting sound. With a long finger it gathered the salt into a smaller and smaller area, the minerals moved of their own accord, drawing together into a large crystal. The mummy with the stone hand was occupied with the same task. When both were done, the stone-handed mummy cradled the salt crystal to its chest and climbed within the gaps of its sarcophagus.

  The other mummy guided the two halves of the slab back together, sealing it by carefully drawing its finger tips across the nearly invisible seam. After it had finished half of this diligent work, the mummy gestured to Esker, beckoning her over. When she approached, it took her hand and guided it to the remaining seam, before releasing her and taking a step back. She was nervous, this was not a task she wished to mishandle and she felt immense pressure. The mummy waited patiently. Esker took a deep breath to center herself and felt within the stone, seeking that finely tuned control the mummy had shared with her. Coaxing the divided pieces of slab back into a uniform whole felt surprisingly natural, as if the stone wanted to unite. The surface of the sarcophagus was beautiful in its intricate design, once again flawless.

  The remaining mummy favored her once more with a slight bow of its head, gathered the large salt crystal to its chest, and climbed within its fractured sarcophagus. Esker guided the lower half snuggly into place and reverently traced the seam, binding it together and putting her revered ancestor back to rest.