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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 37: The Roots Of The Neverwood
When Peregil awoke it was dusk outside and all the world about him was dark and cold. The cold, of course, came from the snow surrounding him. The snow had saved his life. Slowly, Malder began to move, checking to see that all his systems were working. Legs, arms, hands all movable. They were stiff but unbroken. Mostly he was cold from the pile of snow.
It was large pile of snow, made during the blizzards by the snow that had collected from the open hole above. Lucky for Malder, it was soft, with plenty of air between the flakes. Malder pawed his way out of the drift and slid awkwardly down onto the ice. Ice? Suddenly Malder was gripped by a terrible fear that it would break and raced to the shore as fast as he could. Of course running in the dark isn’t smart and he slipped on the last bit of ice and landed with a thud on the rocky shore.
It was bad luck. Terribly bad luck for him. First being separated from the group, then just about freezing to death in the storm, at last falling down through some crumbled well and now stuck in the deepest, darkest, pit one could imagine.
Sitting up in the dark, Malder contemplated his mission. He had lied to Gib.
I was following you of course. To make certain you didn’t return.
It wasn’t the truth. Of course that was one of the reasons he’d come. It was his reason for following the vile man. But it wasn’t why his mother had sent him. No, Emphria had sent him after Gib with a hole other objective entirely. She wanted him back. Malder still couldn’t believe it, but it was the truth. She actually believed that that cad was her son! She said that he looked just like his father. Just like Manus Belphinigib. Malder wouldn’t know anything about this of course, for he had never met the man. But still, even he was her son, how could she? How could she want him back after how he abandoned her? Malder didn’t understand it.
Of course he wouldn’t have to do as she asked. If he came back and reported that this Gib person had fallen off some cliff or something, who was there to contradict him? Then of course, there were the rest of the crook’s friends to consider as well. How did they play into this? Some quest they had said. Something about a lost temple and a never ending winter. Humph! Of all the ridiculous notions. Still…they seemed pretty convinced of their story’s truth. Would they be doing this if it were a hoax? Oh but of course it must be some scheme or other. They were with Gib weren’t they?
“The biggest fools are those that believe their own lies.” Malder finally decided. And he began to feel his way up the shore.
The tunnel widened and narrowed as the Fellowship pushed on, like the path of some great creature burrowing through the hard earth. The path led steadily down, to the point where no roots delved, and the soil was permanently frozen. Bringing up the rear with his torch casting an eerie glow about the passage’s walls, Anardan shivered. The tunnel suddenly narrowed drastically ahead of them, an opening the size of a barrel’s end the only aperture. The company came to a grinding halt.
“Anardan, come up here,” Gib called from the head of the line, “We need your tools to widen this hole.”
The Forestman captain passed his torch to Bjarn and slid past the other Fellowship members, crouching so his head would not strike the ceiling. Voolmark and Gib moved over to make room for him, and Anardan crouched as low as he could to slide up the hole. As he took off his heavy back frame, Anardan noticed loose dirt and dust around the opening, as if someone had been scrabbling about it in the dark.
“It looks like Peregal’s already been here, perhaps two hours ago,” Observed Anardan, “He must not have a light, I’ve noticed scuff marks on the walls the whole length of the passage.”
“How do you know that?” queried Gib.
“Besides carpentry, my ol’ pa taught me tracking. He said it was something every Forestman worth his salt should know.”
Anardan had salvaged everything he thought necessary from the ruined sled in the pit before they abandoned it, including two short pickaxes. Handing one to Gib, the two levered at the hard dirt and stones until they gave way, the loosened stones clattering away into the darkness, leaving a fair sized hole behind.
“It looks like it’s pretty steep.” observed Gib.
The others agreed. A veritable slide of loose dirt and gravel was all they could see with the light of Voolmark’s staff, stretching down into the darkness.
“I’ll go first.” offered Anardan, slinging off his pack and handing it to Aros.
“Good luck!” said Bjarn, looking worried, “Call out if you find anything.”
Sitting down on the edge, Anardan pushed off into the gloom. Small rocks bounced and tumbled aside as he slid down, the light from Voolmark’s staff growing dim as he finally ground to a halt, a mound of dirt at the bottom arresting his fall.
“Are you alright?” called Bjarn from the top.
“Yes, I am.” replied Anardan, “There’s a pile of stuff here that cushions your fall.”
“We’ll be right down.”
When the company was all down they and accounted for they began to proceed into the darkness. Gib hobbled along behind Voolmark on his crutches while beside him, Anardan did the same.
“We’re a couple of jokes, you and me.” The Forestman said, turning to Gib, “Trying to limp along behind everyone else. I don’t mind taking a knock now and then, but I’d rather recuperate back home where I wouldn’t have to fight off Bloodwolves or create patched together cranes on the spur of the moment.”
“Ah you’ll be alright.” said Gib, “You’ve already lost one of those crutches. The young heal more quickly then the old. Take Reno for example.”
The young man himself came up as Gib said this, shuffling his feet and scratching behind his eye-patch. The three fell in line together, joining in conversation as they meandered after the light in front of them. Reno was still a bit drained from his experience and still trying to catch up on what had happened after the fight with the wolves.
“So Luxus saved us, huh?”
“Yep.” said Gib, “Twice, in fact. He’s turning into a regular little Lord Void.”
Reno cringed at the mention of the wizard’s name. “I wish you wouldn’t mention him. I know he seemed to have reformed before the end. But still, even after his death I feel-”
“What?” said Gib.
Reno stopped, failing to see the reason for Gib’s interruption.
“Did you say he was dead?” Gib questioned.
“Yes,” said Reno. “He died when his airship blew up in the battle for Orion’s gate.”
Gib began to chuckle. “Well I don’t know how he did it, but he must have escaped. He was alive and well when I saw him last at the Fire Breathing Fortress.”
“What! That’s impossible!”
“Nothing is impossible.” said Voolmark, over his shoulder, “You’ll find, I think, that wizards are especially difficult to kill.”
“Well I wouldn’t worry about him.” said Gib. “From what I saw of him last time, I don’t think he’ll be calling down deathers any time soon.”
“What do you mean?” said Anardan.
“That, I’m afraid I can’t tell you. I was promised a painful death if I did. Let’s just say he isn’t feeling himself, lately.”
“Even so,” said Reno, “It’s unnerving to know that he’s still alive. He wanted the Pendants, you remember. I’m almost surprised he isn’t here now. Being so connected to them and all.”
“Well,” said Anardan. “Bjarn says we all have some part to play in this, so who knows.”
Gib began to snicker at this.
“I’m sorry.” he said, “I mean no disrespect, but if that were true then that would mean Baron Peregil has a purpose here as well, and I highly doubt that.”
“Hello?” said Voolmark, suddenly, “What’s that?” the old wizard was peering ahead at a strange, white substance on the tunnel wall. The Fellowship paused for a moment, gathering about to see what it was.
“Looks like webbing,” said Gib, “A spiderling must have been here.”
“A spiderling? Said Bjarn, “I thought you said they were hibernating.”
“I did.” Said Gib, “But where do think they hibernate. No worries here though. Whoever left this, passed on a long time ago. See, it’s all flaky and dry.”
That matter settled, the company continued. There were no further interruptions until Voolmark once again called a halt.
“What is it?” said Dractor as they all crowded round his torch.
“Steps.” Said Voolmark, “And these weren’t made by time and running water. I’ll tell you that.”
“You’re right.” said Gib, “And you know what else? I think I’m starting to remember this.”
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