Chapter 69: Rivers in the Dark

Soon Alcar was walking down the stone steps once again. As he went, it occurred to him that as the steps were so wide and deep, it probably wasn’t one of the smaller species that had first mined them. Goblins, at least, could be ruled out.

The skeletons, too, were clearly not from a small species either, as they were as tall as he was. So what had they been during life? Elves or humans, perhaps? Not halflings or dwarves, certainly, and the skulls didn’t look like orcs.

Whatever they had been, that must have been a long time ago, because the bones were now entirely dry and devoid of flesh.

Alcar shuddered at the thought, and tried to focus more on his current progress. He stepped on, always downwards, the flame still held in his hand. He had entirely lost count of the steps and lost track of time when finally he came across a landing below, and a dark archway just beyond.

“Here’s... something,” he muttered with relief.

He could also hear a gentle rushing sound. Water? Lava? And in addition, he could detect a rich, organic smell like muddy grass.

That had to be promising...

Slowly, cautiously, the purple-blue flame raised high in one hand and his staff gripped in the other, Alcar stepped forward from the foot of the mighty flight of stairs and advanced.

This time, he didn’t have nearly so far to go. After walking forward for about twenty feet and whacking his head on the archway (which was only around five and a half feet high), Alcar ducked under and looked around. Quickly realizing that the magical flame wasn’t bright enough to see far, he used it to light the remaining torch, held it up, and looked around.

He found himself in a huge cave, roughly circular, which was bisected by a gently-flowing underground river, perhaps three yards in width. It ran from left to right, crossing the entire area and blocking his progress.

On the near side the immediate area was a flat and level shelf of stone, with the only major feature being the beginnings of a wooden bridge. However, this was clearly broken in the middle. Most of the far side of the cave couldn’t be seen, even by torchlight.

Looking around, Alcar began to feel a sense of hopelessness. “Ahh... where the fuck am I? Please, someone – tell me I don’t need to go all the way back up those damned steps?”

Ignoring his master’s pleas, Brutus strolled towards the edge of the river and leaned down, lapping at the water. Alcar sighed and then followed, placing down the torch, and stooping to fill his waterskins.

“Careful here, boy. We don’t know what kind of monsters might lurk in a deep underground river like this, waiting to snatch an unwary traveller from the surface.”

“Wuff.” Brutus licked his lips, stepped back, and then shook his fur.

Alcar also stepped back. Were the waterskins quite full, and was the water fresh? He gave one a squeeze, and only succeeded in spraying himself in the face, the water then pouring down his front.

“Damn it!”

At least it tasted fresh and clean.

Alcar reached inside his robes and pulled out one of the meaty bones they had got from the store at Riverhome Village, and passed it to Brutus, who began biting at it enthusiastically. The young sorcerer then picked up the torch again, and moved over to investigate the wooden structure.

He had at first assumed that what remained would be long-since rotted and ready to collapse, but closer inspection determined that it felt sound and strong. It wasn’t clear at all why the bridge had collapsed. In fact, he mused, it may have been broken by something, rather than having fallen away.

Something heavy, perhaps?

What remained was a wooden step and two posts plus around two feet of the structure on the near side, and then a similar length on the other, he could now see by torchlight. In all, the gap between the two broken ends was only just over a yard wide. Alcar looked back at Brutus, who was still crunching on his bone. Yes. He felt sure that the dog would jump over with ease.

The question was whether he could...

Alcar looked ahead again. Now standing over the river on the broken stump of the bridge and holding up his torch, he could see that the area ahead was similar to the one behind – but that rather than a single archway, there were three openings that he could make out. This was a welcome sight, but also one that quickly aroused a strong anxiety in Alcar. After all, he was deep within the earth, with no map or sense of how to get out. More options were welcome in a way, but they also hinted that he may soon become hopelessly lost in the bowels of the earth.

Who knows what could be down here? An ancient dragon, perhaps, or an army of skeletons?

He could try to go back, he knew, and somehow crawl out near the rockfall. Perhaps by now the Imperials would have left the area, and the trolls too. The skeleton and lizard-zombie might have moved on as well.

Maybe.

But surely at this point, it would make more sense to at least investigate the tunnels ahead. Pick the one that led back upwards, perhaps, and keep going up whenever he got the chance? Try a different one if he encountered something too threatening. Perhaps even draw a map.

Alcar nodded, having made his decision.

He flung the guttering torch across the gap, and it landed on the stony ground just beyond the other side of the broken bridge. He then took a few steps back, secured his possessions as best he could, and took a running jump, leaping off the near end of the bridge with his feet pedalling at the air.

That was when he saw a green hand emerge from the water below him.