Si glyph [https://i.imgur.com/mHhTdaF.png]

Facing the passage wall, Simon ran over in his mind what glyphs would be appropriate for Searching for stone-wyrms. Not something he’d ever done before—but even with a less than perfect glyph selection, something as unusual as stone-wyrms should be noticeable.

Using the new stylus point on his metal finger, he scratched the sigil lightly into the stone.

The summoning built quickly, crowding against his mind with an unfamiliar weight. Simon leaned on the wall and closed his eyes. Stone pressed cool against his forehead. He released the Search.

A mountain of rock shouldered into his awareness, and for a breathless moment, he was Earth. Incalculable weight crushed him. Forces moved through him, ancient of purpose, slow and vast. He was everywhere, and also here, huge and miniscule at the same time.

Among all that, there came the sharp, strong echo of the wyrms, and distantly, something else: another awareness, another Power.

Simon wrenched himself from the trance. He crouched on the floor, shuddering, his hands over his head as if to ward off a blow.

‘Simon?’ Jonas patted Simon’s shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I…’ Simon pulled himself together. ‘I’m all right.’

‘Did you get anything?’

Simon got to his feet. His hands still trembled and his legs felt weak, but the vision had faded and his mind was his own. ‘There are two stone-wyrms, one nearby—’

‘How near?’ Riga asked.

‘Near.’ Simon rubbed his forehead. ‘Distances are difficult on small scales. And there’s something else out there too.’

‘Something else?’ Jonas and Riga exchanged glances. ‘Could you be more specific?’

Simon shook his head. It had felt like the presence of another Adept, but stranger and immeasurably more powerful. ‘I don’t know what it is.’

Riga scowled. ‘Great. Unblock the tunnel, and let’s get out.’

‘The stone-wyrm could be just the other side, waiting for us.’

‘Whether it is or not, we have no choice.’ She folded her arms. ‘We can try to get out, or we can sit here and starve. Or do you have a better idea?’

He didn’t like it, but she was right. ‘We need some sort of plan.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You remove the wall. I’ll be ready to stab anything on the other side. Sparky has his fire bombs. Holomy can stay out of our way. If there’s nothing there we run like shit. There’s a plan. Happy?’

Simon considered pointing out that Riga’s sword couldn’t damage a stone-wyrm, but thought better of it. ‘I guess.’

They collected their gear and readied themselves before the barrier, Simon and Riga at the front, Holomy at the rear.

‘Once we’re out in the cavern,’ Simon said. ‘Whatever happens, follow my lead. I’ll be making for the main shaft, but there may not be time to explain what I’m doing.’

He drew his sigil on the barrier wall, and lowered it. The stone flowed smoothly back to rejoin the original floor and walls, and the light of the cold-lamp revealed only an empty passageway beyond.

With Riga in the lead, they climbed the sloping passage to the entrance. Simon played the light of the cold-lamp over the open ground before the gap they must crawl through; nothing moved.

‘Simon.’ Jonas grabbed his arm, pointing upward.

High above their heads, the rockface bulged outward. A loop of stone slowly eased from the mass. A formless shape swelled. Claws ripped free of the granite and a pale eye swivelled toward them.

‘Run,’ Simon yelled.

He threw himself into the gap. The cold-lamp crunched against the floor. Fragments of broken glass mixed with cold, glowing liquid flooded out. Simon discarded the shattered globe and crawled into darkness. The others panted and cursed alongside him, their gear scraping over the rock floor.

A sense of greater space informed him he was out. His eyes, accustomed to the brightness of the cold-lamp, hadn’t yet adjusted to its loss. The spilled chemicals on his arm still shone faintly, and the miner’s lamps carried by the others were a dim yellow glow in the pitch black.

His outstretched hand found an arm to hold. ‘Hold hands,’ he whispered. ‘Make a chain. Are we all here?’

Three voices muttered: ’Here. Yes. I’m here.’

They clung to each other. The hand Simon gripped was narrow and muscular — possibly Riga.

‘Was that the stone-wyrm?’ Jonas said, his voice low and strained. ‘It was in the rock.’

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Simon swallowed. It had moved through granite like oil through water. Except for the claws, scraping. Hair prickled on the back of his neck. ‘We must keep moving. We can out-run it, I think.’

‘You think?’ Riga said.

His eyes were adjusting now to the lower light. The hand he held was attached to Riga, who looked no better pleased than him. He oriented himself as best he could, and strode toward what he hoped was the exit from the cavern.

Somewhere in the dark distance, stone scraped on stone. He sped up.

When they reached the climb out of the cavern, Riga scrambled up, followed by Jonas. Simon paused to help Holomy, then clambered up after him.

In the tunnels of the new workings, Riga and Jonas strode ahead. Simon limped after them, pursuing the bobbing light of the miner’s lamps. Behind him, Holomy panted.

‘Wait,’ Simon called. ‘We should keep together.’

Jonas looked back, and it was then Holomy shrieked. Simon turned to see him struggling to free his leg from a loop of stone around his ankle.

‘Help,’ Holomy screamed. ‘It’s got me.’

Simon ran to him. From the tunnel floor behind the scriver, stone bulged upward, extruded itself into a snaking body.

Riga pushed past Simon. She raised her sword, and with a grunt of effort, swung it at the wyrm’s body. Metal rang against stone; sparks flew.

The wyrm, now taller than a man, swayed over Holomy. Its head split into gaping jaws. Long, boneless arms grew from its body, each terminating with scythe-like claws.

‘Jonas,’ Riga yelled. ‘Use your damn fire-thing.’

‘You’re in the way. Get back.’

Simon and Riga retreated. Jonas flourished a scrap of paper. The arms of the wyrm encircled Holomy, who screamed in short breathless bursts, his eyes starting from his head.

‘I can’t,’ Jonas said. ‘I’ll kill Holomy.’

‘He’s dead anyway,’ Riga said. ‘Do it.’

The scrawled ink sigil trembled in Jonas’s hand. Holomy’s screams abruptly gurgled into silence. The sigil bloomed into fire; a blinding bolt sped through the air, hitting the wyrm mid-body with an explosive thump. A wave of hot air rolled over Simon, followed by stinging stone chips peppering his face and hands.

The wyrm swayed from the force of the explosion. Smoothly, the long limbs sunk back into the body and the body slumped into a mound which lowered itself into the floor and disappeared.

They ran to Holomy, though it was obvious he was dead. Claws that could tear through granite had ripped through his body like tissue paper. Riga picked up his pack and looped it over her shoulder. Simon took his lamp.

‘Did we kill it?’ Jonas said.

Simon shook his head. The floor where the wyrm had appeared was smooth now, indistinguishable from any other part of the tunnel. Apart from the blood. ‘You hurt it, if it can be hurt.’

‘If it can be hurt, we can kill it,’ Riga said.

‘But perhaps not before it kills us.’ Simon stood. ‘I have an idea. This way.’

Riga strode ahead. With Jonas at his side, Simon hobbled along as fast as he could. His bad leg was agony, but with Holomy’s death fresh in his mind he wasn’t about to slow down.

Their shadows jittered on the tunnel walls. Jonas kept glancing over his shoulder. ‘I see something. It’s after us. No, there’s two.’ He grabbed Simon’s arm and dragged him into a trot.

‘Turn right,’ Simon yelled to Riga, who was some yards ahead.

She hesitated, then dove down the side tunnel. Jonas and Simon followed.

The side tunnel was coffin shaped, just large enough for a single man to pass. Riga banged her head on the low ceiling and swore loudly. ‘Why don’t we just run? The creatures are slower than us.’

‘We must follow the tunnels, they can take short cuts through the rock,’ Simon said. ‘They’ll pick us off.’

She swore again and hurried on, keeping her head down.

The small side tunnel opened into the bottom of a shaft about ten foot across. Timber scaffolding spiralled upward into darkness.

‘Up,’ Simon ordered.

Riga scrambled up a ladder. Simon and Jonas followed. The timbers creaked and flexed under their combined weight.

‘Where are we going?’ Riga grunted.

‘The main shaft, by another route.’ Simon hauled himself up onto a plank. ‘The wyrms move through stone and I don’t think they see or hear as we do. Wood is foreign to them. I’m hoping we’ll lose them if we stay off the ground.’

Dust drifted in the lamplight. Below them, wood crunched. The board Simon stood on lurched. He grabbed for a hand hold.

Riga glanced down. ‘They aren’t lost. They’re breaking the supports.’

Another explosive crack greeted her observation. Quality timber was scarce in Sark: the scaffolding was old and dry, cobbled together from scraps and wood scavenged from other parts of the mine. It wasn’t going to stand for long at this rate.

‘Blast them,’ Riga snarled at Jonas.

The young Fire Adept was very pale. ‘We’re in a chimney full of wood.’

‘Blast them anyway.’

Jonas took a paper from his pocket. He peered down between the struts. ‘I can see them.’ He swallowed, and stared at the paper. The sigil flamed. Searing yellow light illuminated the shaft like a flash of summer lightning. From below came a dull thump. ‘Got ‘em both! They’re retreating.’

‘Climb,’ Simon said.

They climbed. Halfway up the ladder, Jonas glanced down. ‘I hate to mention this.’

‘What?’ Riga snarled.

‘There’s a teeny bit of a fire.’

Simon saw nothing, but he could smell smoke. Old, dry, broken timber would burn fast, and the shaft was essentially a chimney. ‘Can you put it out?’

‘Um. Yes. It’ll take a moment. I don’t have a sigil prepared.’

The top of the ladder was lashed to a sturdy timber set into the shaft wall. Riga sat astride it and Jonas joined her. He took what was left of his notebook from his pocket.

Smoke stung Simon’s eyes. There was now a noticeable flicker of orange flames from below. He climbed onto the timber and perched there, glad of a moment’s rest. His bad leg ached fiercely.

Jonas finished his sigil with a flourish. He held up the paper, frowning at it, his young face sweating and serious. The paper flamed, but this time the fire settled into his hand as a dull orange ball which slowly faded and vanished.

Simon peered downward. The haphazard, spiralling construction of the scaffolding obstructed his view of the bottom of the shaft, and the remaining smoke didn’t help matters. He leaned further out.

A faint noise came from below: the scrape of stone against stone.

Simon froze. Dread stilled the breath in his lungs.

‘Are they back already?’ Jonas said.

‘Ssh,’ Simon hissed sharply. His heart bumped and suddenly his mind was racing: how did the wyrms know where to find them? They had behaved with more intelligence than he’d expected, when they’d attacked the scaffolding, but still… they were creatures of stone. Though they had eyes, they surely couldn’t see, not as humans saw. What senses did they have?

He glared at the others and mouthed, ‘Keep still.’

Jonas looked at him questioningly. No one moved. Silence fell.

Simon’s overstrained leg muscles protested his awkward perch on the timber. He shifted his weight slowly. ‘Don’t move,’ he hissed. ‘Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. I don’t think they see or hear as we do. They feel the vibrations as we move.’

‘If they can’t hear, why can’t we talk?’ Riga whispered.

‘Sound is vibration too,’ Simon hissed back.

She frowned.

Minutes passed in tense stillness, and nothing happened. If the wyrms had returned, they were quiescent.

‘Great,’ Riga whispered. ‘So we’re safe as long as we don’t move. Fantastic. Great plan, Adept.’

Simon scowled at her. ‘I have a plan,’ he hissed. ‘But we’re going to have to work together if we want to get out of here alive.’