“Head out to the healer. There’s nothing here.”
Maldred nodded and made a move to retreat, but a moment later Dhamon’s hand shot out.
“Wait. I hear something.” He turned again and followed the passage for several more minutes. “The wind, I think, Mal.” Disappointment was clear in his voice. “I admit, it was my idea to come in here. My idea to waste our time.” The stony corridor had opened into a small circular cavern, nearly the entire floor of which was taken up by a pool of water.
Both men glanced up. Dhamon spotted a thin crevice high overhead through which rain could have entered to create the pool.
He shook his head. “I thought I heard music. I still hear it.” Softer, he added, “It might be the wind.” Again he was just about to retrace his steps, when he spotted a crevice across the cavern—another tunnel, this one narrower than the one they had just traversed.
“Pigs, but I ain’t squeezing through that,” Rikali said. She sagged against the wall, her fingers brushing her stomach. “’Sides, I’m not feelin’ too well this mornin’. This bein’ pregnant ain’t fun.”
Dhamon was working his way around the pool of water, Maldred following. Varek stood next to Riki and coaxed a light from the lantern he’d been carrying.
“Then we’ll stay here and wait for them together, my love.”
Riki frowned. “What if they find somethin’? We don’t want them cuttin’ us out of anythin’ valuable. They would, you know.”
He hesitated.
“I will stay with her,” Ragh said.
“Now I know I’m not going with them, Riki.”
The half-elf gave him a lopsided grin. “I’ll be just fine with this beastie, Varek. He ain’t gonna hurt me.”
Ragh unceremoniously sat near the pool, clawed feet dangling just above the water. Varek glanced at Riki, who gestured for him to hurry. A few minutes later he disappeared into the crevice after Maldred and Dhamon.
“Your big shoulders and all, you wouldn’t have fit in there,” she told the sivak.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to.”
* * * * *
The thin tunnel curved back on itself and the ceiling dropped so that Dhamon, Maldred and Varek were almost crawling. Varek had to leave his staff behind. Somehow Maldred managed with his greatsword.
At one point Dhamon thought the tunnel dead-ended, but as he approached what seemed to be a stone wall, he discovered a mesh of tree roots that had penetrated this far down through the rocks. It was from a tree, long dead, but the thick taproots formed a dense mat. He broke through and continued on.
“I hear something too, now,” Maldred said after a while, “but I don’t think it’s music.”
“Crystals teased by the wind,” Dhamon said. “Sounds a little like music.” The tunnel opened onto a wider crevice, the depth of which was impossible even for Dhamon’s keen eyesight to gauge. Spanning it was a narrow bridge of rock, which led to another crevice on the other side. Crystals were embedded in the walls, and stalactites hung from the ceiling, some of them solid crystal.
“Your music,” Maldred said.
“We’ve gone too far now to turn back,” Dhamon said, as he headed across the bridge. Maldred was slower, constantly looking around, and glancing up repeatedly at the stalactites as he walked across. Varek waited until both men were on the other side before he risked it. The next crevice was not so long or so cramped, and at the other end Dhamon poked his head out to find a cavern nearly as large as the one they first explored. There was a noticeable breeze in here, coming from a trio of narrow rents in the rocky ceiling above, a mist of rain water seeping in.
“More ships,” Dhamon said. “Caravels and cogs.”
These ships were in slightly better shape than the others, though there were not so many of them as in the other cavern. And there were plenty of splintered boards to suggest docks to which the ships had been moored in ages past.
Dhamon moved forward, Maldred behind him, raising the lantern high in the process. The light bounced off a myriad of crystals that dotted fingerlike stalactites hanging from the ceiling. The crystals fairly glowed, and the added light helped to illuminate crumbling stone buildings wedged into the southern wall past the ships.
“We’ve found one of the ancient pirate ports.” Maldred beamed. “Ha! We might find a true fortune here.”
Even Varek was excited, slipping by them and to a caravel with intact masts. They set about searching the ships first, finding exotic silks and foodstuffs, wines that had turned to vinegar a hundred years ago. Insects had invaded many of the holds, ruining wood carvings and paintings.
There were gems to be had, small urns brimming with pearls, elegant boxes filled with diamond necklaces, ruby pins, a small collection of brass-inlaid peg-legs, and more. One exceptional piece of jewelry caught Dhamon’s eye. It was a necklace, fashioned of rare black pearls and highly polished volcanic glass beads. That something so dark could have so much fire and color impressed him. He passed the piece to Maldred, who agreed it was one of the most valuable things they’d come across.
“We could give it to Riki,” Maldred suggested.
Dhamon shrugged and resumed his search.
Varek discovered a cache of objects that were probably enchanted—a small glass globe that alternately glowed green, then orange; a dagger that gave off a faint blue light, which he was quick to thrust in his belt; a palm-sized onyx wolf, that, when its side was rubbed, played an old tune; and a silver goblet that continually filled itself with cool water.
“For the healer if your book isn’t sufficient,” Maldred said, gesturing to the magical treasures they’d gathered into a sack from one Of the ships. Dhamon set a bronze circlet with this collection, swearing he heard voices in his head when he put it on.
As they moved deeper into the cavern, they discovered more remains of buildings, mostly consisting of a few stone foundations. These were far east and south of one row of ships, probably marking what had been the bank of the east side of the ancient river. There were dozens of skeletons amid the debris, all picked clean with scraps of cloth laying around them. Varek tossed an old sail over three small skeletons, which he suspected from their wide feet were kender rather than human children.
“Dhamon, after we’re done, finished plundering all of this…”
“We find the healer, Mal.”
“Yes,” Maldred agreed, “but after we’re finished with that business, we have to tell someone where all of this is. A historian, I think. Give him a map and let him come here.”
“Not our enchanted map.”
“Never.”
“After we’ve taken what we want.” This came from Varek. “Everything we want.”
Maldred nodded. “But this is history, something remaining from before the Cataclysm, and it should be shared and recorded. Dhamon, we must tell my father. He’d be pleased to know his map took us to a true treasure.”
“You’ll be the one to tell your father,” Dhamon chuckled as he examined a stone door on the most intact building in the cavern. All the windows had been covered by sheets of slate, which were uncomfortably cold to the touch. “You’ll not catch me in Blöten ever again, my friend.”
“Fair enough. It’s not so bad a city,” Maldred said. “Fine places to eat. Grim Kedar’s to visit, but I’ve no desire to stay there either. Too much of the world to see. Maybe we should buy a ship, Dhamon, sail to lands we’ve only heard about.”
Dhamon offered him a half-smile. “After the healer.”
“Maybe follow another one of my father’s treasure maps.”
Varek cleared his throat. “Riki and I won’t be going with the two of you on any more treasure hunts. We’ll take our share from this and be done with you.” The young man helped Dhamon pry at a piece of slate.