Brother Vaughn did not give her long to enjoy the sights, though, as he set off at a brisk pace after once again checking his sand clock. The floors were level and the tunnels free of debris, which made for easy traveling. Intersections came and went, but Brother Vaughn gave them scarcely a glance as he passed them. The only indication that he noticed them at all was his mumbled count incremented at each one. When he reached what Catrin thought was the twelfth nearly identical intersection, he turned right.
The turn made Catrin feel they had made progress, and she fooled herself into thinking the journey was near complete. It seemed impossible that the mines could go on much farther, and the monotony of it played tricks with her mind. When Brother Vaughn called for a rest, Catrin had no idea how long they had been walking. Time seemed to lose meaning beneath the land, and Brother Vaughn's desire to keep track of the hours was starting to seem more reasonable.
They ate in silence, each consumed with his or her own thoughts. The salted beef satiated Catrin's hunger, but her spirit was restless. She missed the sun and stars, and though they had been in the mines only a short time, she felt separated from Istra's energy. The lack of power made her feel vulnerable, and she pulled the noonstones from the gilded box. They felt wonderful in her hands. She rolled them in her palm and let them soothe her, not drawing any of the energy they held in reserve; instead, she just basked in their existence and the security they gave her.
An enormous arch loomed in the distance. Like the gates to a dark dimension, it was guarded by a multiheaded serpent whose fangs dripped with venom. Though carved from stone, it was a fearsome sight, and Catrin was loath to enter such a mystical portal. Brother Vaughn paid it no mind, and the serpent did not strike him as he passed through, but Catrin felt the reptilian stare intensely, and she had a vision of the beast coming to life. It was almost as if the carvings spoke to her: "Your descendents will pay dearly for your trespass," said the vision. Catrin shivered as if it were a premonition rather than the conjuring of her frightened mind. Benjin seemed troubled as well, and he looked over his shoulder frequently, which drove Catrin to do the same. She felt as if she were an intruder, and she half expected an army of ancients to descend upon them.
Beyond the intimidating arch lay a domed room that seemed impossibly large. Every part of the walls, with the exception of periodic archways, was carved to resemble a forest, and the detail boggled the mind. It was as if she stood in the center of a grove of stone, where each leaf, branch, and trunk was a masterpiece. Birds soared through the skies, and butterflies rested on rose petals. Even without motion, the enormous waterfall seemed alive, so clever was the craftsmanship.
"I would speculate these mines were in use for at least a thousand years," Brother Vaughn said, seeing the looks of awe on their faces. "I do not see how such mastery could have been achieved in any shorter span of time."
Catrin felt oddly at home among the still trees, and she almost didn't want to leave the hall, but Brother Vaughn moved steadily toward the fourth archway on their right. She ran her fingers along the magnificent carvings and marveled at smooth lines and lifelike curves. Some of the leaves were so thin, she imagined she could see through them, and she wondered how they could have been created. To see such delicate forms made from rock seemed impossible, yet it stood before her in all its glory.
As they exited the cavernous dome, Catrin glanced back at the archway and saw that it, too, was guarded by a mighty serpent. She could feel its eyes on her back, and she looked over her shoulder twice as often as Benjin. When a loud sound echoed through the halls, they froze. Straining their ears, they tried to figure out where the noise had come from, but the acoustics of the mine made it nearly impossible to pinpoint, and Brother Vaughn grew nervous. He looked over his shoulder as often as Catrin and Benjin, which did not make either of them feel any better, but they left their concerns unspoken.
The halls once again became a monotonous blur, and the dull cadence of their steps, a lullaby. Exhaustion dogged Catrin, and every step was a struggle. She leaned on Benjin, and they shuffled along together. Her vision blurred as she walked in a stupor, kept upright by only Benjin and her staff. Not wanting to complain, she did her best to deal with the fatigue, but it was overpowering. Her eyelids were leaden, her eyes burned, and she let Benjin guide her.
"We have to stop," Benjin said.
Brother Vaughn suddenly became aware of Catrin's condition. "Yes, yes, of course. Please forgive me. I should have realized."
Catrin slid to the floor and curled into a ball as soon as Benjin stopped. The throbbing in her head made it difficult to formulate any coherent thoughts, and she cradled her head in her hands. Benjin offered her food, but she refused. Her appetite had fled, and only pain and misery filled its place. As much as she would have liked to sleep, though, she remained awake and restless. Obscure fears and anxieties nagged at her, and she was helpless against them.
Would the Zjhon capture them? Would Chase survive his quest for a ship? Did Ohmahold stand any chance against the encroaching siege? The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she felt responsible for too many lives-too many futures. Her confidence waned, and she wondered how she could have been so foolish as to act on her ridiculous plan. There was little chance of success and an even smaller chance of survival. Her mind tormented her with all the possible ways she could die. Fires scorched her skin, axes cleaved her, swords severed limbs, and arrows pierced her flesh.
Unable to contain her pain, she wept, and Benjin pulled her close. With his powerful arms around her, she felt almost safe; he would keep the horrors at bay. Still, it took her far too long to find sleep, which she knew she would regret on the morrow.
Rolling into a tucked position, Chase hesitated only a moment before he sprang. He took three steps then launched himself into the air, tumbling and swinging at the same time. The crack of the impact echoed off the mountains, and Captain Longarm dropped to one knee, clutching his thigh.
"I'm going to feel that in the morning," he said.
"Sorry," Chase said.
"You've gotten better, but I'm getting too old to take that kind of beating, maybe one of your friends will spar with you," Captain Longarm said, pointing to where Strom and Osbourne stood talking to a pair of girls who'd come to watch the spectacle.
"Oh no. Not me. No, sir," Strom said as they approached. "You'll have to find someone else to beat on. My hands are my trade."
"Your trade, huh? I thought you were going to be a stable hand the rest of your life," Chase said.
"You heard me. I'm to be a great smith. Perhaps, if you're nice to me, I'll make you a real sword."
"Don't look at me," Osbourne said as Captain Longarm turned a questioning gaze to him. "I'm still sore from last time."
"I suppose you're just going to have to find a real enemy to take your frustrations out on, young man," Captain Longarm said, and he turned to leave.