“Yes, Woods?”
“Mayhap be that your Church done told you what they thought was true, but this here settlement and what it represents is outside their knowing.”
Rathfield folded his arms across his chest. “It is a point worth considering.”
“Well, here’s another two. Ain’t but one entrance here, and that strikes me as peculiar. There has to be other ways in and out. And the other thing is this: we don’t know what made this place, but we know it look powerful magick. That being so, I’m of a mind to wonder, just what in the name of Heaven was powerful enough to melt the city out there.”
The latter thought sobered them for a moment. Nathaniel moved off and started looking for anything like a door or perhaps a place where a door had been sealed over. He found nothing until he met Owen over by the right side of the dais. “What have you got?”
Owen, on a knee, traced a fingernail along an almost invisible seam in the floor. “It’s fitted flush. I cannot find anything to open it. Magick would seem to make sense.”
“I hope not.”
Owen frowned. “I don’t follow.”
“Perhaps I do, Owen.” Count von Metternin ran a hand over his jaw. “Supposing Nathaniel’s observations are correct, likewise that what Kamiskwa is reporting is correct. We would have a settlement that was created through the use of magick. Imagine for a moment what it means for a people to see magick as so common and so simple to do that they use it in preference to manual labor. Imagine a people who, instead of splitting wood with an ax, just touched a tree and had it fly apart into a cord of wood.”
“More to the point, my lord, I ain’t noticed no fireplaces or chimneys here, and we know they didn’t need no lanterns, candles, or torches for light.”
“An even better point, Nathaniel.” The Count shook his head. “They might use magick to warm themselves instead of such large structures. Magick might cook their food for them, much as an apothecary invokes magick to create tinctures and unguents. For us, of course, doing that is very difficult, but if it is not for them…”
Owen stood slowly. “Magick of that magnitude would make them very dangerous.”
The Count smiled. “If we are lucky, they are long since dead. Perhaps this was an outpost of Aliantis, which slipped beneath the waves eons ago. It would explain the decorative motif they enjoy.”
“Nice thinking, but I don’t reckon that’s it. I don’t reckon they’s dead.”
Owen frowned. “Why not?”
“Well, there was a bubble what was keeping this Temple safe whilst it was underwater. And them doors, ain’t no way the man what left the track we found could have pushed them open. Then there’s that empty tabernacle and this here passage below.” Nathaniel scratched at the back of his neck. “Imagine what ever it was built this place went and laid itself down for a nap after something melted the settlement. The earthquake might have waked it up. It comes up, don’t see nothing, ain’t sure if it is safe, so opens the doors, opens the Temple, and maybe even puts something in that tabernacle there that the Colonel’s giving the once over.”
The Kessian arched an eyebrow. “Bait?”
“Something on that order. It just waits and someone comes along and takes the bait. And our thing waits, most likely to see if whatever melted the settlement is still out there. So that bait would attract it.”
The three of them began to look around the Temple. Hair rose at the back of Nathaniel’s neck. If something had set a trap, they were square in the middle of it.
He put fingers to his mouth and whistled. Rathfield and Kamiskwa came at a run, shifting their course as the other three moved toward the entrance. “What is it, Woods?”
“We’re getting on out of here. Ain’t nothing good coming from this place.”
Irritation flashed over Rathfield’s face, but vanished in an instant. “Very well.” It seemed clear he didn’t want to spend more time in the Temple alone, but he clearly had a desire to see more. “I suggest we return to camp, then explore in the afternoon.”
Nathaniel didn’t say anything to that until they reached camp. “I reckon Makepeace has it right. That there is an unholy place. I figure whoever left that track done come in, found something valuable, and headed out. If that track is right, he’s heading west, maybe to Postsylvania. I’m thinking we need to be finding out what it was he took.”
Rathfield shook his head. “There are mysteries here to be solved, Woods.”
“I don’t reckon we’ll be the ones a-solving them, unless you’ve a might more magick than you let on. I ain’t sure there’s that much magick on this side of the ocean ’cepting among the Shedashee.”
Kamiskwa, who sat back against a rock, facing away from the settlement, nodded. “None of the Shedashee will come here. I won’t again, and I will undergo kenatomis before I return home.”
Rathfield frowned. “What?”
“Cleansing ritual. Bath for the soul.” Nathaniel nodded. “I’m thinking sweating out the evil of this place ain’t a bad idea, neither.”
Owen snapped his journal shut. “Not only do I think we need to follow whoever left that track in the mud, I think we need to send word back to Prince Vlad about what we have found.”
Rathfield shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“Think all you like, Strake, but this is my expedition. I forbid it.”
Count von Metternin sat down on the ground rather unceremoniously. “I do fear, gentlemen, that this whole ordeal has greatly fatigued me. I do not believe my system, which I thought much stronger, can take more shocks. I feel the need to return to my home. I hate abandoning you and, with no disrespect intended, Colonel Rathfield, but your orders do not pertain to me. I would also take Mr. Dunsby with me, as I have need of his skills. There would be no objections, correct?”
Rathfield blinked, his jaw opening and closing several times in rapid succession. “I really cannot… I…”
Owen cut him off. “I’ll have a message or three for you to carry back to my wife, if you would be so kind, my lord.”
“My pleasure, Captain Strake. If any of you would entrust me with your messages, I would consider it a sacred duty to carry them for you. We shall fetch some of the ivory and samples for the Prince on our way.”
Rathfield’s mouth closed for a moment. “I will remind the rest of you that I am in charge here. I will permit Dunsby to go, only as a courtesy to you, my lord. But from this point forward, I expect my orders to be carried out without question, and immediately.”
I already know one secret you got. ’ Pears there might be another one. Nathaniel smiled. He wasn’t much of a one for following orders, but he did enjoy a good hunt. And before we’re done, I’ll have your secrets, Colonel. Every last one of them.
Chapter Sixteen
1 May 1767 Antediluvian Ruins Westridge Mountains, Mystria
Owen wrote as quickly as he could to create messages for Prince Vlad-though he placed them in a folded sheet of paper which he sealed and addressed to his wife. Rathfield didn’t like it, and clearly knew the information would be going to the Prince, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Count von Metternin and Hodge Dunsby packed their things up and headed out by mid-afternoon. While Owen had hoped they’d stay and leave the next morning, he couldn’t blame them for wanting to get away from the ruins as swiftly as possible.
Owen had noted the change in Rathfield after Nathaniel had suggested the ruins were of a settlement created by a people powerful in magick. Whereas before Rathfield had just not listened to anyone else or reacted to them-save for the occasional sneer-now he worked hard at not seeming to listen. Owen was fairly certain, based on the man’s reaction, that he had not expected what they found, but that he’d been prepared to find something in the west that was more than a settlement wishing to break away from Norillian rule.