The Ivory Star

Chapter 5

The passage sloped steadily downward. The square-cut blocked stone of the castle's interior walls gave way to raw, rough-hewn rock. The passageway burrowed down, down into the Crag. Eric, holding the flickering taper above his head, followed Angus down the long, spiral curve. The floor was rough and rather uneven, which gave them solid footing as the grade of descent steepened.

"I wonder how many slaves Sneev killed digging this," Angus growled.

"This wasn't done in Sneev's lifetime. This is an old, old passageway," Eric said. "Look at this slime on the walls. This tunnel is hundreds of years old."

Water trickled down the walls with a quiet rustle, dripping to the floor, providing the only other sounds in the cool silence.

For perhaps an hour they made their way down the narrow, often slippery tunnel, until they reached the end. Angus cursed vehemently, clenching his fists in frustration. Directly ahead of them, the tunnel was filled to the ceiling with fallen stones. The cave-in was ancient, slicked with wet slime.

"Now what?" Eric said, trying to remain clam. "We don't dare go back."

"Give me the candle," Angus said, and took the small flame to closer examine the debris. He stepped carefully up to the fallen rocks. "I think there's an opening up there." He leaned forward, reaching up the pile, and began to pull the smaller stones down to enlarge the opening. "It'll take some time, but I think we can clear a path to get through."

"As long as Sneev isn't waiting for us when we come out, and the ceiling doesn't collapse on us."

"Then he won't take us ali—Oww! Jesus Christ!"

Eric heard a terrible squealing hiss emanate from the opening Angus had enlarged. Angus slipped and fell on the rocks, pulling the thing attached to his hand into view.

Red eyes gleamed in the candle light as the thing growled and hissed, its long, needle-sharp teeth buried in Angus's hand. Angus kicked at it. The dog-sized rodent somehow dodged, maintaining its grip, chewing on Angus's hand. He jerked it into the air, and dashed its body against the stone wall.

"Die, you bastard!" Angus roared as he slammed the squealing thing again and again into the wall, onto the rocks, until it was little more than a pulpy mass of bone and gore. In death, the creature's powerful jaws finally relinquished their grip. And Angus stood cursing, holding his bleeding hand. "Big blighter," he hissed.

"Here, let's bind that up." Eric ripped a long strip of cloth from the hem of his tunic, and bound Angus's hand. "We're going to have to clean that as soon as we can. Who knows what diseases that thing was carrying. Feel okay?"

Angus nodded. "Let's go to work."

For two hours, they worked to clear a space large enough for them to crawl over the cave-in. They encountered no more of the huge rats, but they did hear the skittering of dozens of small feet moving away from them. Clothes, elbows, shins, and knees were torn and bloody as they slid painfully down into the open passageway beyond the cave-in, finally able to move on.

They rested momentarily. Eric said, "It has to be close to daylight by now. The days are a little shorter here."

Soon they found that the tunnel ended once again, but this time a vaguely circular opening about three feet in diameter yawned straight downward like a chimney.

Angus immediately sat down on the edge and slid his legs into the opening. Bracing his feet against the rough walls, he wedged himself in and began to inch down. Eric held the stub of candle aloft as he watched Angus's descent.

After a few minutes, Angus called up to him, "It end's right here. There's another tunnel leading out, I think! Come on down!" He was about twenty feet down, and already crawling out of sight.