25 Zhakir 4769 – On the road to Bako

Viroj woke with a start from a dream of grappling with a demon-possessed girl on the rolling deck of a ship, during a storm at sea. For a moment he didn’t remember where he was… was he actually at sea? But hadn’t he been in the mountains? Then he was fully awake and realized the earth beneath him was what was pitching and rolling!

“Earthquake!” he shouted, sitting bolt upright, and for some reason reaching for his sword. Even as he realized the futility of that gesture the earth stopped moving, and the great roaring that had seemed to fill him like a physical thing faded away. What seemed like silence in comparison was actually filled with the shrill cries of a thousand birds, and the panicked babble of Viroj’s road companions.

It was still dark — by the position of the moons he’d guess about three hours until dawn — and the clear night sky was still full of uncounted stars with the broad, milky band of the Star River stretching from horizon to horizon. The Wanderers, and the dozen survivors of the goru’kin of Tinghu whom they led, were encamped in a broad mountain meadow just off the road, two days out from the lake-side village of Imati on their return journey to the city of Bako.

“Is everyone alright?” Edain was already up and moving through the small collection of tents and bedrolls, which didn’t surprise Viroj. The lad was always concerned about everyone else, and took his position very seriously. And Sujia was there, two steps behind him, making certain that he was safe. Again, no surprise. Murmurs of assent moved through the group as people calmed down, realizing that they really were unharmed, merely frightened.

“What the Void is that?” Khatia said from behind him, and Viroj turned to see what she was talking about. It was immediately obvious. To the west, beyond the dark silhouette of the surrounding hills, an eerie pale-blue glow blotted out the stars near that horizon. It certainly hadn’t been there when they’d retired six hours earlier.

Curiosity being rather the defining characteristic of most of his companions, himself included if he was honest, it came as no surprise to Viroj when it was agreed the only way to answer Khatia’s question was to go and investigate. Only Sujia was less than enthused, but he suspected  that was mainly due to her fears for the safety of the Pona Hanni on an entirely unnecessary jaunt into the wild.

Assuring the nervous time-displaced refugees they were escorting that they would be back by mid-morning, noon at the latest, Edain left Anin Zhur, the one-time Imperial captain, in charge. Zhur may be 50 years out of time, Viroj thought, but leadership quality doesn’t change. Edain also gave the man quiet instructions to move the group on if the Wanderers hadn’t returned within a day. The horses were left behind, as much to soothe the worries of their charges as for the difficulty of taking them cross-country in such mountainous terrain.

Carrying only their light packs, the group set out in high spirits less than an hour after the earthquake had awakened them. 

• • • • •

About twenty minutes after they’d departed Shingli’s nerves, which were finally settling down, were again ratcheted into high gear again by an aftershock. The rippling earth beneath his feet wasn’t even enough to make him loose his footing, although it did bring down a rockslide on a steep hillside off to their left. Nonetheless, it left him nervous and jumpy, on high alert for the next temblor… it was just unnatural, the earth moving like that! He hated earthquakes…

Fortunately, the rest of journey was undisturbed by further earth movements. Following the blue glow before them, in two hours the group crested a rise to see a long, narrow valley below them, a small brook running through it. On the far side a wall of sheer cliffs rose up, higher than the hill they stood upon, and in the center of that gray wall was the source of the strange light.

The quake had broken a large section rock from the cliff face and revealed a great gateway of carved stone, and it was from this that the blue light emanated. Two large trees had been uprooted by the quake, and revealed between their twisted roots were a series of wide, shallow steps leading up to the gate. The remains of a small stone bridge could be seen in the stream, and these allowed the adventurers to cross with minimal foot-wetting.

Dawn was just breaking as they finally stood before the glowing blue portal, the morning light tipping the towering roots of the fallen trees with molten gold. Shingli noted that the portal had once been sealed by tall doors of a lighter stone, but now one of them was shattered, its remains blown out its cracked, fractured frame… it was through this opening that the blue light poured and he eyed it all dubiously.

“I assume we’re going in, yes?” the Kwan Karian monk said cheerily. “Well, let me cast my moonstones, see if they have anything they wish to impart before we venture within!”

Shingli was as dubious of the efficacy of the Moon Monk’s supposedly prophetic rocks as he was of the strange doorway, but he wasn’t one to pass up any opportunity for intelligence… that much his father the General had managed to instill in him. He watched with the others as Viroj laid out his cloth on a flat rock, slipped the smooth stones from their pouch, and cast them.

The markings on the stones meant nothing to the young warrior, of course, never mind their relationships to one another, but clearly this particular configuration puzzled him older companion. “Strange, this doesn’t seem to make any sense,” he said after a few moments of contemplation. “The only image this casting evokes at all is… well, almost as if a snake were eating its own tail…”

“So, is that a sign of danger then?” Khatia asked drily. “Or not?” Shingli didn’t think she had any more confidence in the stones than he did. 

“No, not dangerous, as such… no,” Viroj replied slowly. “But I do think it portends something unusual beyond those doors.”

“Well, that’s a revelation,” Snow Crow snorted, laughing. “Mysterious portal of glowing blue light, revealed by an earthquake, in a lost valley in the wilderness, who would ever have expected anything unusual?”

Viroj laughed good naturedly along with the others, and gathered up his tools, slipping stones and cloth back into their pouch. “It is an art, to be sure, and I confess I am still a mere student. But the wisdom of the moonstones has saved us a time or two, don’t forget.”

• • • • •

Sujia was not especially happy that the Pona Hanni was determined to enter this obviously arcane and probably dangerous ruin, but she knew his too well to expect that her counsels of caution would be heeded. Curiosity drove not only the Avatar, which wasn’t surprising, but most of the others as well. Not that she wasn’t curious, of course she was, but she had responsibilities… and the chief one of those was keeping Edain Haryx alive! Still, he was the Pona Hanni, and might possibly know what he was doing… or at least the Immortal whose avatar he was might.

Reluctant as she was to stray far from his side, Sujia really felt that someone needed to stay outside of that eerie blue glow, just in case… and since none of the others seemed inclined (Snow Crow, as usual, had hared off, scrambling over the broken door, even before Edain had given the word), she had decided to remain firmly outside until she had some assurance that it was at least moderately safe to enter…

She had a good enough view into the chamber beyond the shattered doorway to keep an eye on her friends. The Antechamber, as Viroj had named it shortly after entering, was a long, narrow room 10 meters wide and at least 50 meters long, curving gracefully northward at each end, as if describing the arc of a gigantic circle. The ceiling was a series of barrel arches, seemingly carved from the living stone, about six meters high.

Directly across from the entrance Sujia’s eye was immediately drawn to another doorway, equally tall and wide; but rather than stone doors it was filled with an almost solid-seeming blue radiance. It was from this much more brilliant and powerful source that came the blue glow which had drawn them thither. Two very large urns or vases, each at least 3 meters tall and made of some dark-glazed ceramic, flanked the glowing doorway, and stretching beyond those in either direction were a series of ancient, decaying ceremonial banners. Some had crumpled to the flagstone floor, but the ones that remained depicted a shining blue object held aloft by two robed figures… all done in shades of blue, she thought, although it was hard to be sure in the bright blue light that filled the space.

The eastern end of the room had collapsed, whether recently, due to today’s earthquake, or in some earlier catastrophe she couldn’t tell. It was while studying the rockfall for clues that Sujia noticed the floor. Made of well-fitted flagstones of a pale hue, she caught glimpses of pulsing blue light flashing along the seams between stones. She could detect no pattern, but the little worms of light made her uneasy…

“These banners, and the stonework – they look to me to be very ancient,” Viroj called from the eastern end of the room where he had been studying the walls and the collapsed area. “I think perhaps even as old as the early post-Codominion era!”

Khatia and Edain had moved off to examine the stone doors at the western end of the hall, and it wasn’t clear to Sujia if the moon monk was speaking to her, Snow Crow, or just to himself. She was about to reply when she took a second look at Snow Crow… he had moved forward to examine the brilliant blue light in the doorway, but she realized he hadn’t moved in several minutes. He was between the two ceremonial urns, maybe two meters from the archway, bathed in the intense blue light – and apparently frozen!

Viroj seemed to have notice this at the same time as she had, and he hurried from the far side of the room. He wisely stopped well clear of their friend, just as Sujia yelled a warning. “Don’t get too close, or you may become frozen as well!”

“Yes, not to worry,” Viroj replied absently. “But I don’t think he’s actually frozen, as such… if you spend a minute watching him closely, you’ll see he is still moving, just very, very slowly. In fact, I think he’s beginning to turn his head to look at me… but at this rate it’ll be ten minutes before he finishes the movement!”

Edain and Kahtia were drawn from the western end of the room, and for several minutes the friends considered Snow Crow’s plight.

“I don’t think it’s the blue light, exactly,” Edain said. “Sujia, you’re still out side and so least affected by it… do I or the others seem to me moving at a noticeably slower rate to your eye?”

“No,” Sujia replied after a moments thought and observation. “Only Snow Crow seems slowed as far as I can tell.”

“It must be proximity to the doorway, then,” Viroj surmised. Standing as far back as practical, he leaned forward and stretched out an arm toward the troubadour. “Oof, that feels odd! The closer I get to him, the more resistance I feel… and my hand—yow!” He tried to jerk his hand back, but it looked more like he was pulling it out of a barrel of molasses. It popped free eventually, and he stepped back, shaking it as if trying to get feeling back.

Khatia next tried to throw a lasso of rope over their friend, but the circle of hemp slowed as it approached him until it was no more mobile than he. Khatia tugged on the rope, trying to pull it back, and it took all of her strength, as well as several minutes, before it popped free.

“At least that proves something caught in the… effect… can be pulled free,” Sujia called from the outer doorway. She still wan’t going to enter the room, just in case.

In the end it took Viroj and Shingli, ropes tied around their chest to reach into the field and grab Snow Crow by his belt. Despite the pain and strange sensations, they were able to hold on as Khatia and Edain tugged them slowly out of the temporal effect. Sujia suspected that she only imagined a “pop” as Snow Crow finally came free, stumbling back to land in a heap atop Shingli and Viroj.

“What – what’s going on?” he gasped as he disentangled himself from his rescuers. “All of a sudden you seemed to be moving so fast I could barely see you, Viroj! Then suddenly I was laying here and you’re back to normal…”

The others explained it to him, as best they could, and he was amazed that more than twenty minutes had passed since he’d been the first one into the antechamber. “I swear it’s been less than two minutes!”

• • • • •

Once she was sure their idiot Snow Crow was unharmed, Khatia returned to her examination of the western doors, accompanied this time by Shingli. She and Edain had already determined that there appeared to be no traps or wards on the stone doors, and now she cautiously pushed on them. They swung open easily, silently, and she had to wonder if magic was involved. Viroj was certain that this place was at least three thousand years old, and she found it hard to believe any hinge un-oiled for that long could remain silent. She stepped through, followed by Shingli.

The passage beyond the doors was about five meters wide, curving gently to the north and west as if continuing the arc of the Antechamber. Its walls were bare stone, as was the flagstone floor save for a thick layer of dust, which muted the sound of their footsteps and blurred the faint blue pulses running between the flagstones. The air seemed heavier here, and patches of phosphorescent moss on the ceiling cast a dim light beyond the reach of the blue glow behind them.

“We’re going to proceed cautiously, and let you know what lies beyond the curve,” she called out to the others still in the Antechamber. The words had hardly left her lips when a small, wizened creature, little more than a meter tall, appeared from the dimness ahead. It had greenish-yellow skin, a bulbous head with large, swept-back pointed ears, and narrow, slanted eyes of glowing green. It was clad in a crude belted leather tunic that fell to its knees, and wore leather sandals. 

It also wielded a glowing blue blade, wickedly curved, which it swung at her as lit lunged forward. Her sword already out, she had no trouble blocking the blow, which proved the blade, despite its ethereal look, was solid enough. She swept her own blade up in a a swift counterattack, but the creature leapt nimbly back, and she only scored a thin gash through his tunic.

“We’re under attack!” she shouted over her shoulder to the others. “Some sort of small humanoid!”

From behind her Shingli lunged forward, his guandao sliding past her in a powerful thrust. The goblin’s glowing blade flashed up to deflect the attack, however, and then the creature was ducking under the polearm and slashing at him. Shingli deftly twisted his weapon and pulled back, it’s blade catching the things she and slicing deep into its sickly-looking flesh.

The wound was deep, but to Khatia’s surprise there was no blood — and despite a fierce snarl on its face, the creature utter no sound. In fact, since the moment it had appeared, the little homunculus had made not a single sound. It stepped back, but it was no retreat… the creature was merely looking for its next opportunity…

Two flashes of silver flew by her from behind – Sujia’s shuriken! The commotion must finally drawn her into the ruins, she thought wryly. The spinning blades… clattered to the stones several meters behind the creature! How had they missed? Khatia had been sure they’d struck the thing in the chest and stomach, but it must have twisted at the last second, and in the dim light her eyes had deceived her…

Another flash on her other side, as an arrow (no doubt form Viroj’s longbow) flew into her attacker… no, it too had somehow missed, flying off to hit the far wall were it curved out of sight! With shocking speed the little beast-man rolled between her and Shingli, to come up behind them, blade poised for another attack.

Before it could follow through, however, Snow Crow was behind it, dagger out and slashing down. The creature must have sensed him, for it turned with that same unbelievable swiftness, trying to block with its glowing blade. But it wasn’t quite quick enough, and the singer’s blade plunged into its left breast. With its first sound, a thin, high shriek that sounded as if it came from a great distance, the goblin dropped its sword and staggered back… and then both it and the blade simply faded away.

Before she could relax Khatia caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see a second, nearly identical creature rushing around the curve of the corridor toward them, blade out and a snarl on its ugly face. Shingli heard her warning cry, and turned to meet its rush, his guandao sweeping up and knocking its blade aside. His own blade cut deep and almost severed the creature’s left leg. With another thin, distant shriek it collapsed to the floor, and like its partner simply faded away.

Khatia was momentarily startled by Sujia, suddenly at her side. “Being attacked is just an opportunity to counter-attack,” she said solemnly, and the fire archer smiled. As strange as her pronouncements could be, it was nice to see the old Sujia returning.

Her smile vanished as a third of what she was coming to thinks of as the ghost goblins appeared behind her friend. Here expression must have been warning enough, for Sujia whirled around, her right hand glowing faintly, to slam her Iron Hand-enchanted fist into the thing’s chest. With a look of utter surprise the creature staggered back, its chest crushed, and vanished without a sound.

A fourth ghost-goblin had apparently arrived while this was going on, for Khatia turned in time to see it block Shingli’s attack and drive its own glowing blade into the youth’s left thigh. Unlike the strange little monsters, he bled profusely. He did manage to stay on his feet, and despite the obvious pain, conscious, limping backward as it came in for another attack. Parrying the strike, she saw the brave but foolish boy try to counterattack. Even as his blade drove into the creatures groin, dispatching it with the now-familiar shriek, its own blade cut deep a second time into his thigh. He went down without a sound, and didn’t move.

Snow Crow was at his side instantly, and attempted to staunch the alarming flow of blood.

But the wounds were deep, and beyond his limited ability to affect. His hands covered in blood, he desperately continued to try. “I’m sorry my friend, I fear I’m making a mess of this,” he muttered as he worked.

Khatia’s eyes widened as a fifth ghost-goblin appeared beside the bard, and she shouted a warning. Snow Crow barely had time to duck and roll aside as the glowing blue sword flashed through the space where he’d been. He rolled to his feet, dagger out…

Khatia had no time to help him, as yet another of the damn creatures appeared, almost behind her. It lunged at her, and she blocked the blow, again turning her defense into a counterattack. The ghost-goblin fell back, and she pressed her advantage. Knocking aside its own block, she drove her sword deep into its chest, and like its brethren it too vanished with a snarl and a thin shriek.

Meanwhile, Sujia had leaped over the prone form of Shinli to drive a solid kick into the groin of the goblin threatening him and Snow Crow. The bard threw one of his taburi, which hit the creature solidly in the thigh – but continued on as if there were no flesh, clattering onto the flagstones beyond! Khatia had been looking directly at it this time, and in a flash she understood – ranged attacks had no effect, only direct, personal attacks were effective!

As she opened her mouth to say as much to her companions she caught sight of Sujia, who was using the Temple hand-language that she and Edain had been teaching them all, frantically trying to say… ah, of course! she had realized that the creatures appeared after anyone had spoken. It was their own voices that were summoning them!

Viroj, after dispatching the ghost-goblin near the fallen Shinli, had knelt to take over tending the youth’s injuries. His attempt to invoke his ritual of Silken Wrappings required him to speak, and Edain stood nearby, the Skyblade out, trying to anticipate where the next ghost-goblin would appear. He was off by a bit, but only a bit, and as the final viscous little homunculus appeared he was able to bring his blade around in a flashing arc, severing the creature’s right hand. Both the hand and the sword it held went flying, vanishing along with the goblin before they could hit the floor.

• • • • •

While Viorj gathered up the still unconscious Shingli and carried him to the doors at the far end of the curving corridor, Snow Crow recovered his thrown blades. He also checked on the arrows the Moon Monk had fired, but one had shattered against the wall, and the other had term or missing fletching. Well, that one might be repaired, so he took it.

Having learned his lesson in the Antechamber (at least for the moment), he was not the first one into the next room. Khatia and Edain led the way, but not very far. The chamber was circular, with a high domed ceiling that looked like it might once have been painted with a mural of the night sky, faded and chipped now. The floor was in even worse condition, deep cracks and even fissures running through the flagstones in many places, and actually sagging in others. Snow Crow noted that the strange pulses of blue light, which ran through the floors of both earlier chamber, seemed entirely absent here. 

Viroj and Sujia were attending to their injured soldier friend on the one stable-seeming bit of floor near the door from the Silent Passage. The others looked on for a moment, then began to examine their surrounding more closely. Faded geometric patterns marked the walls of this circular chamber, while concentric, arcane-looking circles were carved deep into the damaged floor near its center. Only the faint blue glow of wall moss lit the room, and the only exit appeared to be a set of stone doors about 45° to their left around the room. One leaf of the door was shattered on the floor…

“You’re the lightest of us, Snow Crow,” Khatia said after minute. “If you’ll do a quick recon, test the floor, and give us an idea what’s next—“

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Sujia is lighter than me,” the bard said diffidently.

“Yes, but she’s busy helping Viroj keep Shingli alive,” the fire archer sighed. “So you’re it, unless you thing he,” she gestured emphatically at the hulking Edain, “has a better change crossing this floor?”

With a sigh Snow Crow shrugged, and began picking a careful way across the shattered floor. It creaked and groaned, but actually seemed more solid than it appeared. He was nearing the door, totally focused on his footing, when a shout from Khatia brought him up short. He add entirely failed to see the Gray Ooze that had been laying next to the doorway, and now it was moving, arching up… 

He backpedaled hurriedly, the condition of the floor forgotten, and the shimmering, translucent ooze settled back down. He didn’t know how something so featureless could nonetheless convey such a feeling of disappointment… Thankfully, the floor hadn’t given way beneath him, but keeping a wary eye on the Gray Ooze he began making his way back to the others.

“A wise decision to retreat, Sir Crow, the Not-Quite-So-Brave-as-Sir-Shingli,” Sujia called from across the room. He shot her a sardonic sneer, then saw that Shingli was sitting up now, if not yet standing. His sneer turned to a grin. Then Sujia began to chant. Oh, he recognized this ritual, the Tears of the Immortal — she’d used it on Edain, back when she was crazy, to make him weep non-stop. He wasn’t quite sure what she thought it was going to do to a shapeless blob of protoplasm, and started to say as much… then he heard the high-picks keening behind him.

Turning back he saw that the Gray Ooze was suddenly oozing water from every centimeter of its surface! It was writhing (and he had no idea how it was making that faint keening sound), either in pain or at least discomfort, and it was visibly shrinking as the pool of water around it grew.

Sujia passed him, moving quickly but cautiously across the uneven floor, a determined gleam in her eye. Behind her, Kahtia had summoned some of her ethereal fire, and now sent a flaming arrow into the undulating monster. For a minute the pale blue flames flickered across its surface, clearly causing it more pain, but were soon quenched by the continuing flow of water.

Reaching the creature, Sujia paused to consider. It had lost almost half its mass, but the seepage was beginning to slow. She closed her eyes, summoned her glowing Iron Hand, and slammed it into the Ooze. A shock wave rippled across it and the keening took on a higher pitch, but Sujia cursed and retreated a few steps herself, shaking here hand. Even from across the room he could see it was red and glistening, and obviously painful.

He decided now wasn’t the time for a snide comment about the corrosive nature of oozes, and the foolishness of hand-to-hand combat with one. Maybe later…

Having wiped her hand carefully on her cloak, Sujia was reaching for her dagger when Edain moved forward to help her, beginning to unsheathe his sword. Unfortunately, Khatia had been right about the interaction between his massive body and the uncertain flooring… with a sharp grinding sound the floor beneath the Pona Hanni gave way…

Snow Crow was only a meter away, and he made a desperate grab for his friend’s hand — Edain saw and reached for him, their finger tips brushing… and then he was gone!

There was a moment of horrified silence as the companions froze, stunned. It was broken by a muffled curse. “I’m alright,” Edain’s voice came up from the black hole into which he’d vanished. “There’s an outcropping I’ve got hold of… but I have no idea what’s below me, how stable this rock is, or how long I can hold on. So if you could throw me a rope…”

Kahtia, moving slowly and carefully, had positioned herself to where she could see down into the hole and just make out Edain’s pale face about five meters below. Her increasingly hand rope was lowered, and despite some harrowing moments as more bits of the floor broke away, she was able to pull her friend back to safety.

Once she was sure the Ponna Hani was again safe, Sujia plunged her dagger into the now almost friable ooze. The blade was quickly eaten away, the creature’s corrosive nature still strong, but it was the last straw… with a shudder it silently crumbled to dust. Sujia backed quickly away, careful not to breathe any of that dust into her lungs…

• • • • •

Shingli limped along the short, curved corridor between rooms, annoyed at his injuries and trying to focus on the healing katas that Madame Wei had taught him during their time at her Cherry Blossom Kirusi. Between those, and the healing ritual of the Moon Monk, he was at least able to function, if not as well as he needed to. He doubted he could trust his injured leg if it came to another fight.

At the end of the corridor were another of the stone doors, and they opened at Viroj’s push, with a slight grinding of stone-on-stone. The room beyond was very similar to the one they’d just left – circular, maybe 20 meters across, but with a flat ceiling 10 meters above and a perfectly sound, solid floor, through which the by now familiar blue flashes pulsed. From the ceiling hung a collection of rusted chains, of various lengths and sizes. Smaller chains were affixed to the curving stone walls, with manacles on their ends, and many of these still contain the yellowing, brittle bones of long dead prisoners.

The only other features of the room was a large mirror of blackened silver set into the wall about 45° to their left, and another set of stone doors 45° to their right.

“Well, obviously we’re not going to be gazing into that mirror,” Sujia said drily, and Shingli was right there with her. He’d heard enough tales of such things to know just how wrong such things could go! The others agreed, and the party trudged across the room, avoiding stepping on crumbling bones, to the exit. Edain pushed on the stone doors… and they didn’t budge. No give at all, as far as Shingli could tell.

Viroj had to try as well, of course, and even Khatia gave it a go, but Shingli didn’t bother. If none of them could open the doors, he wasn’t going to do it. He turned back to the doors they’d entered by, then froze. They were shut. He and Snow Crow had been the last ones through, and he knew neither of them had closed them. He also hadn’t heard them swing shut, and they’d made enough noise swinging open…

He pushed, he pulled, but the doors would not budge. “Umm, guys, I think we have a problem,” he called out.

In the end, after considerable debate, Shingli had volunteered to be the one to face the mirror. He didn’t particularly want to, of course, but he was sick of the endless chatter. Better to do something, anything, than just does round talking about it until they all starved. Or died of boredom. Edain had tossed a finger bone at the mirror from one side, which had bounced off, and Khatia had tried to dispel and enchantments on the doors to no avail, so…

With Khatia’s versatile rope tied firmly around his chest and tucked snugly under his arms, he moved cautiously forward to stand before the dark mirror. It was at least twice his own height, and as he neared it he could see that its surface almost seemed to tremble, like a breeze blowing over black water. Could be a trick of the dim moss-light, but he didn’t think so…

He eyed his reflection, which was surprisingly sharp – he didn’t think he’d ever seen himself so clearly before in any reflective surface. Not that there’d been any great number of mirrors in the army camps he’d grown up in, of course… with a start, he realized he was only seeing his reflection! None of the others were visible, nor were the walls of the room, or the chains, or the skeletons.

As he looked closer he realized there was only a shifting mist roiling in the dark behind his reflection. Taking a deep breath, he reached out to touch the mirror… it was cool, solid, and didn’t ripple, like he’d half expected. He wasn’t really sure what to do next…

“Well are you going to just stand there all day, you adolescent ass,” his reflection asked impatiently, “or are you going to ask a question?”

He staggered back, shocked, and his heart raced – his reflection failed to mirror his movements, instead remaining standing, arms folded across its chest. He noticed that it no longer had a matching rope tied there, and he felt frantically for his own. It was still there, and he relaxed slightly.

“Oh, you’re still “safe” enough, you big baby,” his reflection sneered, sounding disgusted. “Really, it’s no wonder your father is so disappointed in you. He was probably actually relieved when you ran away.”

Shingli’s face flushed, and he opens his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by his obnoxious doppelgänger. “Oooh, are you finally going to ask a question? No, really, take your time, I have nothing better to do after all.”

Shingli swallowed the hot denial he’d been about to utter, and instead said “How do we open the doors to leave this room?”

The image dropped its head into its hands in mock despair, then looked up with another sneer. “really, you need instructions on basic door opening? You really are abysmally stupid, aren’t you, boy?”

Shingli was again about to answer hotly when his eye was caught by a subtle shift in the swirling mist behind his evil reflection. For just a moment they seemed to form a word… despite his trouble with reading he recognized the Kyenshi word “Witness.” Then the mists shifted again, and it was gone. Had he really seen that, or had his mind just impose order on random chaos, as people liked to do, according to Viroj?

“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” he said, turning to see his friends in the real world and ignoring his irritating reflection, “but I don’t think this mirror is going to suck anyone in.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he heard his reflection say, but he ignored it…

• • • • •

Even from off to the side they could all see that Shingli’s reflection had stopped mirroring his movements, but Edain at least couldn’t hear the mirrors side of what appeared to be a conversation. After a minute of back and forth, Shingli turned around in obvious disgust and shrugged. 

“I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I don’t think this mirror is going to suck anyone in.”

Edain decided to take a chance and, despite an annoyed hiss from Sujia, he stepped up to stand on Shingi’s right. A moment later he noticed that Viroj had joined them on the left. But looking into the strange mirror he couldn’t see either man, only his own reflection, backed by swirling mists against utter blackness.

“Well, are you any brighter than the other one, or are you just going to stand there and admire your pretty face?” his reflection asked, sounding petulant. “So, ask a question or bugger off!”

Edain spent a moment trying to think it out. He’d heard Shingli’s question about the doors, and presumably that question hadn’t got an answer. So maybe something more esoteric… “What is your purpose, mirror?”

For an instant he thought his reflection looked surprised, but then the sneer returned. Ugh, did he really look like that when he was annoyed?

“My purpose is none of your business, boy,” his reflection replied stiffly. “Really, you can hardly handle your own. Of course, since you plan to abandon your friends and your responsibilities at the first chance you get, so you can return “home,” I suppose it doesn’t matter how bad a Pona Hanni you are, does it?”

Edain paled at that, then flushed. He was about to deny the accusation, when his eye was caught by a subtle shift in the swirling mist behind his too-perceptive reflection. For just a moment they seemed to form a word… to his surprise he recognized the Espari word “Witness.” Then the mists shifted again, and it was gone…

• • • • •

Viroj had been very tempted to face the mirror himself when it had become obvious that was their only recourse, but Shingli had seemed to need it more, so he’d stepped back. But once the lad had his chance, and Edain had joined him, he figured it was fair game at that point.

He was not surprised when he realized, stepping up on Shingi’s left, that he could only see his own reflection in the desk mirror, nothing else. His reflection and a swirling mist against darkness. He had seen Shingli’s reflection moving independently of the youth, and he wondered—

“Too little, too late, as always Moon Monk,” his reflection laughed at him. “Your lack of confidence is disgusting, you couldn’t even be the first one up here, could you, despite your bottomless desire for attention.”

“Hey, that’s not—“

“Oh, you always have an excuse, don’t you? But your know the only reason you wander about looking for “demons” is for the attention, just like your carny criminal family. Now, are you going to ask a question?”

Viroj resisted the impulse to draw his sword and smash this irritating mirror, and instead pondered a question that might elicit a useful answer. Perhaps humility was the key?

“Thank you for your constructive criticism, mirror. Tel me, how can I be more confident?”

His reflection rolled its eyes so hard Viroj thought they might spin entire around in their sockets. “Try killing an actual demon for once,” it finally spat out.

He started to object that he’d killed plenty of demons when his eye was caught by a subtle shift in the swirling mist behind his witless reflection. For just a moment they seemed to form a word… it was the Kwanari word “Witness.” Then the mists shifted again, and it was gone.

It had been subtle, yes, but he knew what he saw. It must mean something, although what he wasn’t yet sure. Nonetheless, he was done with the mirror, and the more so when he heard Sujia call out from across the room. “Hey, the doors are open!” 

He turned to see her standing before the exit, where one of the doors now stood open, revealing another room beyond. He turned from the mirror without another thought, although he did have a flash of gratitude that none of the others had heard what had been said. He briefly wondered what trashed talk the mirror had given to Shingli and Edain…

The others were moving toward the exit, and Khatia was stowing her rope, having untied it from Shingli, when he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. A spectral figure, robed and hood in white and seeming to be made of mist, was flowing out of the mirror, transponder for Khatia!

He shouted a warning, but she armed to sense something, for she dodged as she turned, reaching for her sword. But a ghostly hand managed to strike her, passing through her thigh, and making her gasp. But her dragon armor flared with golden light, and the apparition drew back, foiled.

Sujia’s thrown shuriken passed through the specter, and while it seemed to feel the weapons it didn’t seem to Viroj that they bothers it overmuch. Snow Crow’s more substantial taburi, however, while still passing through, did seem to cause it actual pain. Interesting…

As the others retreated towards the door, where Edain was invoking his Peace of Inspiration ritual, Viroj drew his great broadsword and, twirling it once over his head, brought it slashing down to split the ghostly figure from crown to hem. With a thin wail it wavered and dissipated like dew in the morning sun.

From within the circle of Edain’s peace field Shingli cheered approvingly, Snow Crow asked him to recover his taburi, and Sujia intoned “The soul is like the mirror bright; take heed to keep it always clean, and let no dust collect upon it.”

Handing the troubadour his blade, Viroj smiled at Sujia and just said “Indeed, girl, just so! Well said.” He seldom knew what she was talking about, but it seemed to make her happy.

• • • • •

Having managed to invoke the peace bubble, Edain was determined to maintain it for as long as he could. Anyone within about 5 meters of him would be extremely disinclined to engage in violent behaviors. Of course that included his friends, but that should be alright…

He led the way into the next room, which was similar to the Room of the Mocking Mirror, but not identical. Shallow angled vestibules to either side turned its circular structure into almost a kidney shape. A strange metal dais filled half the room, its circumference lined with eight squat pillars of a glassy blue-white material, and an arc of low shelves occupied the southern section of the chamber.

In the center of the dais stood a stone table — almost an alter Edain thought — and scattered across both dais and room were broken incense bowls, cracked stone trays, and other signs of ancient offerings. 

“It looks like a place where tribute was once offered,” Viroj suggested, “perhaps before continuing on into this place’s deeper sanctums?”

“Perhaps,” said Khatia. “But tribute to whom. Or to what?”

Before anyone could offer any suggestions, Shingli stepped up onto the metal dais and headed for the stone alter. As he did, the glassy pillars around the perimeter of the platform suddenly lit up, glowing with a cold, brilliant blue radiance. The temperature throughout the room began to drop, noticeably, as frost quickly started to form on everything. Did he imagine it, Edain wondered, or did the blue pulses in the floor brighten and begin moving quicker?

Shingli was still within the sphere of his peace bubble, so when the spectral ice-blue wolf sparkled into existence on the other side of the alter from him, the young warrior was remarkably nonchalant about it. The ghostly wolf, however, was not within the sphere, and it growled menacingly and crouching in preparation of a leap…

Both Khatia and Viroj stepped swiftly to either side of Edain, leaving the peace bubble and knocking arrows to bows. Khatia muttered a few words and her arrow burst into ethereal blue flame, giving Viroj time to release first. His shaft flew true, striking the beast in the breast — only to pass through it without effect. Khatia’s shaft also struck true, but this time the beast leaped up with an agonized howl and burst into a cloud of steam.

“Well done, my friends,” he said with a sigh, and released his invocation of peace. It obviously wasn’t going to be much use in this place, and he could feel its efficacy fading in any case. With the others he methodically examined the room and its contents, hoping to find some clue as the nature and purpose of the ancient structure, but beyond confirming its great age they learned nothing.

A great basin of blue jade was set in the floor south of the dais, and within it lay a great many coins, of varied sizes and metals – large gold discs, medium silver hexagons, small bronze triangles, and a dozen other kinds besides. None of them were from nations or cities any of the group recognized

“I’ll just hang on to these until we’re out of here,” Snow Crow said, scooping them by handfuls into his pack. We can submit them up later.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, singer-boy,” Shingli growled. When he didn’t think anyone was looking he snapped off one of the handles of the jade basin and slipped it into his own pack. Edain didn’t see the point of the vandalism, but in the larger scheme of things it hardly mattered, and he said nothing.

Several large gems were also found before they were done, and Edain ended up with a very nice tourmaline, while Khatia took an impressive sapphire and Viroj pocketed an especially large aquamarine of clearest blue.

• • • • •

Shingli was a bit chafed as the group exited the Room of Forgotten Offerings, as Viroj had named it. He been completely under the power of the Pona Hanni’s peace ritual, and it had almost gotten him killed. If not for Khatia’s fire arrow… he wasn’t sure he would have been able to even defend himself had the wolf leaped; at least not soon enough to have mattered. Whatever the supernatural force, he should have been able protect himself!

As they entered the next chamber he set aside his musings and focused on the situation at hand. This room seemed to be a reliquary or crypt… it was cold, but in a much different way than the previous room, a chill that touched the soul. It also didn’t follow the circular shape of the earlier rooms, at least not exactly. The first half of the space was instead a half-circle, with the door they had entered through set in the center of the flat wall defining the bisecting line. Stone tombs lined the curving walls to either side, many of which seemed to have been forced open… long ago, by the look of things… and their contents disturbed.

The back half of the room was shaped as if two overlapping circles had been laid over the top of the larger hemisphere, forming two lobe-like niches. At their converging apex was the exit, maybe 25 meters from the main door – its stone doors lay open, cracked and leaning askew. The floor between was littered with bone fragments. Some he could identify as being human, but others… well, whatever they had once belonged to certainly wasn’t human.

In each of the two lobe niches lay large sarcophagai of carved stone, inset with some silvery metal, while in the very center of the chamber was a large pillar at the base of which was a plinth, surmounted by a carved dragon’s head. This latter drew Edain to it, and after studying it for a minute he clearly came to a decision.

“I’m going to try my psychometry on this,” he announced. “It seems less disturbed than anything else in here, and maybe I can learn something.”

“I’ve seen you in this state before,” Khatia said. “You’ll need someone guarding your back while you’re out of it. Sujia, you and me?”

“Of course,” the monk replied, and took up a position on the opposite side of him as the Pona Hanni laid his hands on the plinth and sank into his trance.

Viroj, apparently having about as much interest in trances as did Shingli, had wandered over to take a look at the sarcophagus that had its lid askew. He was smart enough not to stick his head into the opening, but it wasn’t enough to save him from what was lurking behind the tomb. A hideous thing, perhaps once human but now little more than rotting flesh on a skeletal frame, clad in tattered rags, leaped up and slashed at the moon monk with filthy claws.

Viroj shouted and stumbled back, attempting to swing his sword, but the blow had connected and blood sprayed from his neck. He collapsed, clutching at his throat as blood flowed over his fingers. The ghastly creature dropped back down behind the sarcophagus, easily evading the shuriken and arrows that came at him from Sujia and Khatia. Snow Crow was closest, and he at least managed to wound the thing with a cut to its arm when it reached out to try and drag the unconscious Viroj towards itself. 

Shingli was across the room in an instant, and leapt up to crouch on the sarcophagus lid (despite the sharp twinge in his injured leg that almost brought him down). He stabbed down with his guandao, taking the foul creature through the left shoulder as it turned and driving the blade down into its torso. With a gurgling hiss the thing spasmed, jerked twice, and then lay still… dead, he sincerely hoped, but he wasn’t entirely sure it had exactly been alive before.

As he stared down suspiciously at the putrid thing he suddenly noticed that its thin black blood was pooling and trickling away… and that as it did it formed the Kyenshi ideograms for the word “Unbound.”

“Snow Crow, look!” he called urgently to the singer, who was stooping over Viroj trying to staunch the flow of blood. “Do you see what I’m seeing?”

Snow Crow frowned in irritation, but glanced over his shoulder, then did a double take. He didn’t see what his friend saw, but instead saw Viroj’s blood pooling and trickling away, and in the process spelling out the Shoni word for “Unbound.”

It took several minutes to get Viroj’s bleeding under control, but with Sujia remaining with the still. In-tranced Edain Khatia was free to properly clean and bind the nasty wound. “It only just missed the jugular,” she said wearily as she finished up and was rinsing her hands with water from Shingli’s waterskin. “As it is, I can only hope the wine will disinfect it enough… the claws on that thing look absolutely filthy!”

A few minutes later Edain came out of his trance, and was horrified at the carnage around him. Sujia filled him in, and he shook his head. “We really need to have a better way of exploring dangerous places,” he sighed, looking down at a slowly reviving Viroj, then glancing over at Shingli’s wounded leg… which was bleeding again through the bandages, after that last stunt. But it had saved the monk’s life, so it was totally worth it.

“Yes, I was able to get a sense of things,” he replied to Khatia’s question about his psychometry trance. “That plinth is old, Codominion old, and by extension I assume this entire complex is as well, for the plinth was erected after the rest of this place. A reliquary for the honored dead of “the Guardian.” Who these Guardians were, and what exactly they guarded I couldn’t tell, save that it was the purpose of this structure.”

‘Well, I suggest we leave this area without disturbing anything else,” Khatia said firmly, and Shigli could only agree. The room gave him the creeps, and it wasn’t just because of the creature he’d destroyed. He’d searched a bit amongst the debris while Viroj was out of it, and had found a mouldering, half-destroyed leather journal, its pages mostly unreadable. But Sujia had been able to make out a few bits.

“It’s in an archaic form of Kyenshi, maybe 500 years old,” she’d said. “So, old but nowhere near as old as this place. Belonged to looters, I’d guess. Something about retrieving an artifact… or maybe a relic? Not clear… then something about the relic… or artifact… refusing removal? Is that right? Very strange wording, if so… but it so old… I don’t know.”

He’d tucked the journal fragment away with the bit of blue jade he’d snagged, and now was happy enough to leave the crypt behind… if he never saw it align it would be too soon!

• • • • •

Viroj was still very weak, and feeling more than a little light headed. Looking at the mess on the floor of the crypt  he’d realized just how much blood he’d lost… and how close to death he’d come. Still, he hadn’t died, thanks to his friends, and when he was stronger he would be able to devote some of his Patron’s healing energy to himself. For now he was just glad they were taking it slowly in the long curved corridor leading southeast out of the crypt.

Its floor was cracked and fissured in many places, as though whatever had blown open the stone doors behind them had inflicted serious damage here as well. While the flickering blue pulses between flagstones were absent, it still didn’t seem to be as bad as in that room with the Gray Ooze – for one thing, there was clearly just rock beneath the damaged flooring, not an abyss – but nonetheless Edain wanted to proceed carefully.

The damage lessened as the went, and the stone doors at the end of the passage seemed entirely undamaged. They opened easily enough, with only a slight groan of stone-on-stone, when Khatia pushed on them, and she stepped cautiously into the room beyond. Snow Crow was right behind her, but before the others could enter the room Khatia yelled a warning and a terrible hissing filled the air…

• • • • •

 Khatia immediately saw that the new chamber was better lit than any of the previous ones had been, although where exactly the pearly ambient light was coming from wasn’t immediately clear. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to sort it out. Not more than a half dozen paces into the room, the enormous carving in black stone against the curving wall to her left suddenly came to life. What she had taken to be, in the brief moment she’d had to look, a representation of some five-headed reptilian monster – she recalled hearing of such a mythical beast from a Western trader her parents had once entertained – now proved to be horribly alive. Or at least animated.

She had her sword out, of course, but the attack had been sudden and from above. The nearest of the five heads, all of which were now weaving and bobbing about, struck down and its black jaws attempted to close on her head. She leaped back, even as she tried to bring up her blade in counterattack, but felt a searing pain in her left cheek. Her vision was suddenly blurred by blood, and she nearly swooned, but was able to stumble back out of range.

Thank the Immortals the thing seemed to have a range. Through the haze of blood and pain she could see Snow Crow taking an acrobatic dive and roll to move under the head striking at him, and realized the monster was still attached to the wall. Beyond the 5 meter reach of their serpentine necks, they were save. Then Sujia was there, murmuring an incantation and gesturing…

Sujia’s invocation of her Song of Defense ritual was perfect and Khatia could feel the power flow around them. The creature’s hisses turned from anticipation to fear, and the heads drew as far back as they could. Had it been a true, living beast, it would have been forced to flee in terror as far and as fast as it could. But being a construct of some sort, it was immobile, and so could only cower in terror… could such a thing feel true fear, she wondered?  Her head was really beginning to ache now, and she realized she was drifting a bit…

• • • • •

Viroj was glad to have an excuse not to think about his own pain, and assiduously served to Khatia’s head wound. She had mumbled something about the monster cowering behind them now being a “Hydra,” whatever that meant. Several of the Hydra’s teeth had raked the left side of her face, and while the wounds were relatively shallow, it was the concussion that worried him.

“Not likely to leave scars,” he told her as he finished up his treatment. “Sorry my dear.”

She laughed at that and thanked him, then turned to see what the others were up to. Wary of the squirming Hydra heads, despite their trying to stay as for from them as possible, everyone was being careful not to step over the line Sujia had drawn in the dust to show the limit of their reach. She had assured them the ritual would last at least another turn of the glass, but still… 

They were all drawn up around the only other notable feature in the room, an enormous bed of stone set against the wall opposite the Hydra carving. At least it looked like a bed, if one for a giant – three meters wide and four deep. Carved into its top were strange glyphs that none of them recognized… an ancient language? Arcane marking of some pre-historic magic tradition? Who knew?  

Glowing clumps of purple crystal clustered atop stone posts at the foot of the great almost, with matching clumps embedded in the wall over its head. There was much speculation about the use or function of the “bed,” and after several minutes of this Viroj decided on a closer look at the crystals to test a hypothesis he was forming.

“I think maybe the Hydra heads are controlled from here, using the crystals somehow,” he said as he hopped up onto the expansive surface. Before Edain could object, all four crystal clumps flared with a brilliant violet radiance, forcing everyone to look away. When the glare faded, Viroj was spread-eagled on the slab, arms and legs held in place by bands of pulsing purple light emanating from the crystals.

“Umm, this is awkward,” Viroj admitted sheepishly as Edain glared at him and both Sujia and Shingli tried not to laugh. “I guess this isn’t the control for the Hydra after all.”

The humor of his predicament faded, however, as his friends tried to figure out how to release him. Eventually Shingli noticed that six squares of stone at the foot of the bed, which they’d thought mere decoration, were now glowing faintly around their edges. Shingli pushed on one, and it sank a few centimeters, the light around it growing brighter. 

The Ty Kyen soldier began randomly pressing the stone squares then, and in the process caused the light bands immobilizing Viroj to suddenly tighten, stretching his limbs painfully. In a panic the lad tried to undo his mistake, but it wasn’t until Edain stepped in and calmly reset the stones, then ran the sequence in reverse, that the bands relaxed, and the pain eased.

Unfortunately, they were no closer to discovering how to free him. Eventually Viroj himself suggested that the Pona Hanni use his power of psychometry to learn how to operate the device. 

“It’s not a quick process, Viroj,” Edain said. “And there’s no guarantee that I’ll learn anything useful… it can be a pretty random process.”

“Well, it’s not like there are other, better options… so where will I be in hour if you don’t try? Still right here. So why not spend the time, and maybe an hour from now I’ll be free.”

Edain shrugged in agreement and sat down cross-legged at the foot of the slab, leaning his head against the foot and resting his hands lightly on the stone buttons. For ten minutes he remained in his psionic trance, and while he did Sujia and Khatia both kept a watchful eye upon the still cowering Hydra heads.

When he came up from his trance, Edain was grinning. Without a word he stood and leaned over the control stones, paused, and then tapped out a quick sequence. Immediately the brutal clumps began to dim, and as they did the light bands faded away. Viroj quickly rolled away and clambered stiffly off the torture bed.

“Actually, its primary use was not for torture,” Edain said when he voiced that thought. “It was primarily meant as a diagnostic and healing device… although I got the sense that it was occasionally used as an… interrogation instrument. I think. In its latter years, not initially…”

“Do you know how to use its healing function,” Shingli asked, suddenly very interested in psychic trances after all. Viroj imagined the lad was seriously worried about how many more fights they might face, and how many more he could survive with that injured leg. And no doubt concerned for the other walking wounded, of course.

“No, sorry, I was very much focused on learning the release mechanism, and luck to have found it – it’s not often I’ve been successful at guiding these trances before.”

Both Shingli and Khatia had seemed inclined to argue for his continued study of the bed, but the sudden snap of one of the Hydra heads brought them all back to their immediate situation. Fortunately everyone was outside the radius of the creature’s attack, but no one was inclined to linger… the monster seemed intent on getting at them, and who knew what it might be able to achieve given time?

• • • • •

A short curving passage led out of the Hydra room and northwest to another set of stone doors. Pushing these open Edain stepped cautiously in and glanced about. Unlike any previous room, this chamber was rectilinear, maybe 15 meters wide and about seven deep, with an arched barrel ceiling five meters high. The air was warm, and in the center of the space, rising nearly the ceiling, stood a large circular structure of matte black metal with brilliantly glowing panels of blue crystal, the light of which filled the room. Along the unadorned stone walls were five strange protrusions of a bronze-like metal, also inset with panels of pale blue crystal. One of these constructs seemed heavily damaged.

Immediately inside the door and to the left was a much smaller pillar of the black metal, with a slanted flat surface made of the glowing blue crystal affixed atop it at about his waist height. Strange symbols shifted and flowed across the surface, changing as he watched. It reminded him vaguely of the devices the Lady Mariala and her friends had been studying in that hidden chamber, just before she’d banished him to the other side of the world. Hmm, maybe he’d better be careful fiddling with this stuff…

His concentration was broken by a sharp cry from Snow Crow. He and Shingli had come in behind him, and while the others had stayed nearby, they had headed straight for the far door, in the west wall. Now some small creature, about the size of a monkey was flitting around them. It glowed yellow white and seemed to buzz, and as he watched an arc of energy snapped out from the creature and struck Shingli in the left hip. 

He screamed and went down hard, even as Snow Crow’s dagger flashed out and took the flying imp full in the face. It exploded in a flash of light and a surprisingly gentle “whomp.” Edain led the rush to the fallen man, but stood aside to let those better at healing than he kneel beside the soldier.

“It’s bad,” Viroj said after a few minutes. “That blast has burned him, but it’s also opened his other wounds, and I can’t stop the bleeding. Even my Silken Wrappings can’t keep up with it. I’m afraid… maybe if I cauterize the wounds… but he’s already in shock. Even if her survives, I fear his leg will never be right again.”

“How long can you keep him alive?” Edain asked, his face pale and grim.

“A turning of the glass, maybe two,” the monk replied equally grimly. “Not much more than that I fear.”

Edain nodded, and headed for the door at a quick trot. Sujia ran to catch up, realizing what he intended to do. Back in the Hydra chamber he stepped cautiously through the doors and looked warily to the black carving on the wall to his right, where the Hydra had returned to its statue state. He moved slowly into the room, careful not to cross Sujia’s still visible line in the dust. As he’d hoped, apparently the defense wasn’t triggered until an intruder stepped within its attack range.

“Nonetheless, I will be here to guard your back should any other danger manifest,” Sujia said. “And should this creature awaken, I am prepared to send it cowering once again if need be.”

Edain nodded gratefully, gave her a tight smile, then knelt once again at the foot of the healing bed, laying his hands and head on it and closed his eyes. He’d never made so many attempts at psychometry before in so short a time. He feared exhausting the power, but the truth was it was feeling easier each time. He sank once more into his trance…

Twenty minute later he sent Sujia to fetch the others, especially Shingli.

“”I’ve figured out how to use the bed for the healing of gross physical injuries,” he explained as Viroj and Snow Crow laid the pale and unresponsive Shingli onto the table. “At least I’m pretty sure I have. I wouldn’t want to try anything too complex, but cuts, blunt force, bruises and even blood loss… I think I can handle those.”

“Shingli has nothing to lose, my friend,” Khatia assured him as the crystals glowed purple and the light bands secured the youth in place. “If he were able I know he would accept the risk.”

Edain nodded, took a deep breath, and reached out to tap the control stones in a complex pattern. Only once did he hesitate… was it stone four or stone two next? Sweating despite the cool air, he pressed two, and then continued. As he touched the last stone a blue glow enveloped Shingli, growing in brightness until he could hardly look at him. The brilliant aura lasted for almost two minutes, then slowly began to fade. A few seconds after it was gone the crystals also grew dim and the restraining bands faded away…

• • • • •

Shingli drew a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. He was momentarily confused, thinking he was a back at the Cherry Blossom Kirusi. Then he recalled that nasty, glowing little sprite, and the sudden flash of pain. But that was just a memory, and in fact he felt better than he had since… well for as long as he could remember. 

“Are you alright Shingli?” he heard Edain asking him, and he turned his head to see the tall sun-haired man staring down at him in concern. His other friends were arrayed behind the Pona Hanni, and Shingli smiled.

“I’m great!” he laughed, and slowly sat up. Yes, he really was fine, not even a twinge from the injury caused by that damn phase spider!

Once the others had explained all that had happened since he’d lost consciousness in that blaze of pain he was silent for a moment. He’d come very close to death today, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He looked to Khatia, and he thought she at least had some idea what was going through his mind. Well, there would be time enough to figure it out, maybe even talk to her, if she was willing… for now, they had this damn maze to figure out and escape.

“Thank you Edain, I owe you my life, and I won’t ever forget it,” he said solemnly, clasping the taller man’s hand and gripping his shoulder. Edain looked embarrassed and blushed, but he accepted the thanks. Then the others began clamoring for a session on the bed, and with a sigh, he agreed. 

First Viroj retook his recently escaped position, without even a hesitation Shingli noted. Whatever his eccentricities, the man did not lack courage. Khatia followed him, and when she had hopped off the bed he knew she, too, was feeling as revitalized as he.

“So, do you think you can fix this nasty scrape?” Snow Crow asked, holding up his right hand and pointing to a nearly invisible patch of red. He laughed when Edain threatened to draw the Skyblade. But then turned serious. “Well, my injured hand may not be worthy of this device, but don’t you think the burns on Sujia’s hand from the Gray Ooze are?”

But Sujia declined, firmly. “The burns are not bad, and both Khatia and Viroj assure me there won’t even be scars. The pain is entirely tolerable, as I think I demonstrated with my ritual castings earlier, so I see no need to risk… anything.”

Returning to the Mechanism Room, Edain explained his hypothesis that the objects there controlled the functions of the complex, and that some of them seemed broken or non-functional.

“I’m reluctant to play with these controls, however… I’m only guessing, and I know how dangerous that can be. And besides, even if I fixed everything, that might just make this places defenses even more deadly!”

When some of the others were inclined to debate the point, arguing that maybe he could turn off the defenses, Shingli shook his head and held up a hand to stop the chatter. “If the Pona Hanni feels it is too dangerous to tamper with these devices, then I for one trust his judgement. But if any of you think you understand these things better…”

No one did of course, and the matter was laid to rest with one of Sujia’s impenetrable aphorisms – “Be master of mind rather than mastered by mind.” 

They warily exited the room, watchful least the energy imp might not have been killed, and Shingli wonderd how many more rooms there could be…

• • • • •

Sujia suspected they must be getting close to the end. The passage outside the Mechanism Room was the natural stone of the earth, only lightly shaped by the hand of Man, and very short. A turn to the left, and suddenly they were at the edge of a wide chasm, easily 20 meters wide. A narrow tongue of dressed stone arced over the lightless abyss, its depths unpenetrated  by the dim glow from the moss and lichen that illuminated the span itself. The far side of bridge was obscured in darkness, although she thought she saw the dim shape of stone doors in the darkness there.

The span was no more than a meter wide, without rails or even kerbs, and seemed extraordinarily fragile to her eye. Cross it they must, but she was glad when Khatia suggested they use her rope as a guide and safety line.

“The first person to go across will have it tied securely about them, while the stingray of us will hold the other end. Should they fall, it will not be fatal. Assuming they do not fall, they can secure the line on the other side and the rest can use it as a safety guide —“

Her friend broke off her explanation as she saw Shingli striding out onto the bridge, guandao held at a jaunty angle. Sujia knew he had no fear of heights, and excellent balance, and was glad that his near brush with death had not made him timid or fearful… but by the Immortals, had the man learned nothing?! 

She glanced aside at Edain, whose face with tight with annoyance, and at Khatia, equally rigid with suppressed fury. Both looks turned to dismay when out of the shadows on the far side of the chasm loomed a massive shape, a deep growl rumbling across to them. As it stepped onto the span and into the dim light of moss and lichen, she could see that was some terrible blending of the body of a large and powerful man with the massive head of a bull. Wicked looking horns flared up from its head, a metal ring pierced its nose, and in its hands a war axe flared with sparks of blue energy.

Shingli halted halfway across the bridge, and brought his own weapon up to the ready. He seemed eager, and she rolled her eyes. Men! No doubt the fight between the man-bull and the master guandao-man would be epic and, should he actually survive it, a tale to tell his grandchildren. But Sujia was disinclined to chance it.

Murmuring the familiar words, hands moving in the practiced gestures, she once again invoked the ritual of the Song of Defense. She felt the power move through her as it had earlier, and she knew the god was with her. She threw the effect out toward her wayward friend, centering it on him, and felt it take effect. With a shriek of utter terror, the man-bull froze halfway to Shingli, then turned and fled as fast as it could away from him, vanishing into the shadows. 

As the creature’s bellows faded into the distance (there must be a labyrinth of caves back there somewhere) Shingli turned and glared at her. She shrugged and gave him a small smile in return. He’d learn to live with it, live being the operative word, and forgive her in time…

• • • • •

Khatia pushed open the stone doors on the far side of Bridge of the Abyss and cautiously stepped into the room beyond. Shingli stood respectfully aside, clearly trying to look contrite after the tongue lashing she and Edain had given him about PLANS, but not succeeding very well. Had she ever been that young and reckless? She supposed so, if she was being honest…

The dim room was also rectilinear, although a bit smaller than the Mechanism Room, the only light coming from the flashing blue pulses in the floor. Most of the walls were lined with bookshelves, from floor to… well, she supposed the ceiling, although that was lost in impenetrable shadows. Many of the shelves were collapsing under the weight of rotting scrolls and books, and broken or sagging tables were scattered about, also piled high with rotting tomes. Everything was covered in a coating of dust and wispy cobwebs. The smell of mold and mildew was almost overpowering.

In the midst of all the debris stood a desk, with a large chair behind it. On the desk was a bookstand, holding a massive volume, its pages swollen and fused with moisture and age. She tried to read the pages visible, but the script was not one she recognized, and she gave up, turning her attention to other papers on the desk. 

Her companions were also moving about the cramped, cluttered space, examining books and scrolls, all looking for some clue as to what this complex had been designed to guard. Shingli moved past her to examine the shelves along the south wall of the room, which seemed in slightly better condition than the rest. She glanced up just in time to see a dark shape, seemingly wrapped in shadow, drop down onto him.

The thing was vaguely humanoid, she thought, but had far too many arms… or maybe legs? The sight of it gnawing at her friends head broke her momentary paralysis, but even she drew her sword Sujia flew past her, propelling herself off the desk to deliver a flying kick to the creatures head!

It released its grip on Shingli and sprang back to the shelves above him, and that was all the break he needed. His guandao flew up and skewered the spider-like thing clear through the torso, and it died with a high-pitched squeal. A black ichor poured from its corpse as he levered it away, and the stench of it was completely overpowering. Shingli staggered away, Sujia on his hills and the other followed them out the doors to the west. Snow Crow, a perfumed handkerchief held over his mouth and nose, was the last out, papers clutched in his other hand.

Pulling the doors shut behind him, Khatia was the last to turn and see what everyone else was gaping at. The room was the largest one yet, a circular chamber carved from jet black stone, easily 25 meters across, with a night-blue ribbed dome ceiling rising that same height above. The walls were engraved with spirals, eclipses, and kneeling figures, repeated again and again in a seemingly endless sequence. 

But it was what lay in the center of the vast chamber that captured her attention, as it had the others. A large blue crystal sphere, more than three meters across floated ten meters above the pale gray flagstones, surrounded by three whirling bands of alternating metal and crystal. Khatia had seen a gyroscope once, at a university in the Eternal City, and it reminded her very much of that.

But the beautiful central crystal was flawed, a large crack running down its left side. From that crack poured a wedge of almost solid-looking light, which poured forth to strike the only other door in the room, a quarter way to her left around the wall. It’s radiance seemed to fill the doorway with its substance… with a start Khatia realized this must be the far side of the doorway which had trapped Snow Crow in that field of slowed time!

The strangeness and beauty of the mesmerizing crystal and its ever-whirling bands was so powerful that it momentarily drove out all else. But slowly Khatia became aware that a circle of shadowy figures stood around the swirling central structure. Despite the all-pervasive blue light, these humanoid figures, motionless and silent, seemed as though they were cut from darkness itself.

Edain was the first to move, walking slowly toward the circle of shadow beings, hands empty and held out in a gesture of peace. But as he neared the closest figure, all of them suddenly moved, covering their invisible eyes with shadowy hands. And then they vanished.

Before Khatia, or anyone else, could react the shadowy figures were back, and now they held shadow swords. They moved silently forward, weapons ready, and Edain stepped back, fumbling for his own sword. Everyone else drew weapons as well, except Sujia and Viroj.

• • • • •

The two monks each began their own ritual invocation, Sujia the Song of Defense again, Viroj seeking the blessings of the Light of the Greater Moon. But both of them felt it, the sudden emptiness around them and the feeling that in this room they were cut off from the source of their power. Both rituals failed.

 • • • • •

Khatia watched the battle with the shadows with growing dismay. It started well enough, with Snow Crow and Shingli teaming up to dispatch the first of the shadow creatures, proving that they were indeed susceptible to mortal weapons. 

Then Snow Crow started singing a battle chant. A rousing one, as he no doubt imagined, and she sighed.

She herself sent a fire arrow through the next shadow that had engaged Shingli, dissipating it as well. But then the tide began to turn, as Sujia decided to counterattack when one of the shadows moved in on her and she’d dodged its swing. Her Iron Hand certainly struck the shadow-man, but it seemed to have little effect, while its own blow sank deep into her friend’s chest. Without a sound Sujia collapsed and lay still… was she dead? 

Edain leapt over her prone form and struck with the Skyblade, but somehow the shadow blade blocked it, and the figure clutched at the Pona Hanni. He tried to doge, but that just meant the shadowy hand missed his stomach and instead sank into his groin. With an agonized cry Edain staggered back, double over and clutching with his free hand… 

At the same time she saw Viroj swing his broadsword and drive it into another shadow…this failed to dispatch it. Then Snow Crow was behind it and a dagger strike from behind finished the job… but not before its fading claw passed through his neck… the bard staggered and gasped in pain, but somehow stayed conscious.

Shingli’s vaunted counterattack failed him at last, and khakis saw a shadow sink its grave cold fist into his head… with a shuddered he collapsed this Sujia!

Khatia sent a fire arrow into the shadow that took down Shingli, but in doing so she barely had time to draw her own sword and block a blow from another of the creatures. It easily dodged her counterattack and drove a chilling hand into her left shoulder – dear mother, but the cold was terrible! Still, she mangled to stay upright. 

The shadow came in again, and again a freezing grip pierces her dragon armor as if it wasn’t there, this time numbing her right thigh. Dizzy from the pain and shock, Khatia focuses all her will, and then grins through gritted teeth as she sees Snow Crow drive his ridiculously effective dagger into her opponents back. It twists in obvious pain, and her own blade swings through its neck… it vanished with a wail and her world went gray for a moment. 

When she regained herself, Snow Crow was supporting her, and Viroj and Edain, despite both being chilled and wounded, were finishing off the last of the shadows… it was Viroj who struck the final killing blow, and it seemed to her that the creature leaned in as if to whisper something in the moon monk’s ear before fading to mist and vanishing.

It was over, and they all lived, somewhat to Khatias surprise, and very great relief. Both Sujia and Shingli, although badly chilled, still breathed and with proper care soon enough returned to consciousness. But all of them who had been touched by the shadows continued to feel the pain, which was proving slow to pass. 

Edain limped over to examine the spinning structure that shielded the blue crystal while the others recovered and talked. Khatia examined the papers that Snow Crow had brought out of the Archive, and she agreed that they were instructive, if obscure. The language their own, if an archaic form, and badly damaged, but two things seemed clear enough. This place was built to contain something, not study or use it… and the keepers of the complex did not fear destruction, but rather… repetition? Could that be right?

At that moment Edain called out, in a half distracted voice, “I’ve been watching the pattern, and I think I see how I can stop the bands…”

Khatia had a sudden bad feeling, and her intuition was screaming at her to… “Stop!” 

But even if he heard her, it was too late, for Edain had thrust his staff into the whirly blades…

The world went blue-white.

• • • • •

Dawn was just breaking as Viroj and his companions finally stood before the glowing blue portal, the morning light tipping the towering roots of the fallen trees with molten gold. Shingli noted that the portal had once been sealed by tall doors of some lighter stone, but now one of them was shattered, its remains blown out its cracked, broken frame… it was through this opening that the blue light poured and the lad was eying it dubiously.

“I assume we’re going in, yes?” the Kwan Karian monk said cheerily. “Well, let me cast my moonstones, see if they have anything they wish to impart before we venture within!”