Chion nudged Lara awake early the next morning. Stretching first, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she swept up the hair tie and pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

After changing into a clean shirt and pants and tying her shoes, Lara rolled her shoulders back, loosening the kinks in her back.

Shooting Chion a glance, Lara asked with a yawn, “How long do you think we’ll be in the catacombs? It’ll take a day or two only, right?” It was a question she’d been unable to answer during their meeting the day before.

Chion chuckled at her naiveté. Solara, we will be gone for days, weeks even, he explained, shaking his head at her look of astonishment.

“Weeks! Really? Why in the world will it take us weeks? How big is this place?”

I, myself, do not know how large the House of the Dead truly is. This will be the first time I’ve entered the grounds where the bodies rest.

“Right,” she agreed, her voice sounding more even, “no one besides the priests are allowed in the catacombs.”

She blew her bangs out of her face, wishing she had clips. She needed a haircut, bad. Shorter hair kept her curls somewhat tamed.

“I can’t tell you how much I don’t want to go into the catacombs, or whatever you call the House,” she shared, her nose wrinkling at the thought. “I imagine we’ll find out once we’re inside the catacombs.”

After scarfing down the breakfast left outside their door and securing the coil in the drawer by the bed, they exited their room. Still early, the hallways were empty until they arrived at their designated gathering place. Lara slowed down as she walked into the room, glancing around at the stone walls that glittered from the small fire burning in the corner of the room. Looking closer, she realized the fire burned in what was the remains of a timeworn fireplace. She smiled at the priests’ and priestesses’ thoughtfulness.

Similar to the walls in the city, these were meticulously sculpted and painted. Instead of the depictions of death, the drawings were a gallery of the living in all its grandeur. Taking a couple of steps back, she realized it was a vibrant mural. The smaller pictures created the larger one. There were paintings of children running, playing, sleeping. Some showed merchants selling their wares. Others included scenes of pakas and children forming bonds at the bonding ceremony. Taking in the room, she calculated it’d take hours to look at each sculpture and painting.

Hearing Skye’s low murmur, she tore her eyes away from the beauty around her and walked to a pile of packs. Feeling someone step up behind her, Lara turned around and said in greeting, “Skye. Eiren. Are you ready for our next adventure?”

Skye absently grunted, frowning down at the packs. He said to no one in particular, “I thought there were only five of us entering the House.”

His comment made her study the bags again. Two were shaped different than the others. “You’re right, only five of us are going in. From the looks of two of the packs, I think—Eiren correct me if I’m wrong—I think they are carried by pakas.”

Eiren nodded her agreement. Skye grunted again and leaned over to lift a pack from the ground, turning it this way and that. Finally, he turned to Eiren, holding the pack aloft. “Are you ready to strap it on? It’s heavy, but it’ll lighten as we travel deeper into the House.”

Lara swiped the other paka pack, surprised at the weight. Swinging it over her shoulder, she met Chion halfway.

Ah, I see you’ve found the paka packs. He instructed her, The hoop, there, goes over my head. Lay the pack across my back, and tie the two sets of cords across my chest and behind my forelegs. He wriggled and stretched, trying to dislodge the pack after she tightened the cords. Excellent, My Lady. Let’s ready yours.

The young priest entered the chamber and gathered up his own pack. Four carefully wrapped scrolls jutted from the top of his bag, making him look like he wore a headdress. The ever-present robe was wrapped around him, though he now carried a large staff. Looking around, Lara realized everyone waited for her. She flushed, hurried forward, and hefted her pack from the ground. The bedroll tapped against her butt as she walked around, getting a feel for the weight.

The priest banged the staff on the ground three times and intoned in a loud voice, “God and Goddess, we praise you. Protect us as we enter your hallowed halls where the dead rest for eternity.”

He grinned at each of them in excitement before pushing his entire weight against the great doors. They groaned open, and a stale, dusty odor wafted out. Lara tested the air as she crossed the threshold, half expecting to smell decomposition. There was a faint overlay of herbs, but the primary scent greeting them was dust. The hallway they entered was every bit as plain and nondescript as the antechamber was impressive. The priest marched down the rough-hewn hallway without a backward glance.

Come, My Lady. We can ill afford to lose our way, Chion urged as he took a step forward, flicking his tail across her stomach.

The priest’s scratchy voice floated back to them, “This hallway is merely a means for the priests and priestesses to travel to different sections of the House. We’ve left the hallway as it was created, leaving the actual beauty and artwork to the caverns that house our dead.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

She scurried to catch up with the circle of light from Skye’s torch, having missed when he lit it in the other room. As they traveled deeper into the House, intricate openings cropped up. Lara snuck a peek inside each one. Disappointment grew; nothing within these tunnels proclaimed they interred the dead.

It was all rather anticlimactic. She’d imagined something akin to Paris’s catacombs where the bones were displayed in the walls and in open beds. For the next several hours, they walked in single file, trailing after the priest’s back as he checked the scroll in his hand at every crossroad. The deeper they journeyed into the catacombs, the quieter it became until the silence weighed her down.

Out of nowhere, Lara heard the clatter of stones to her left. She paused at the doorway, peering into the dark hole of the adjacent corridor.

She whispered to Chion, Did you hear that?

Chion circled back around, and they both stared into the doorway. It was faint, but she heard the clatter again. “There,” she said, “you heard it, right?”

He nodded, his ears swiveling as he attempted to pick up other sounds. By then, the others returned to join them, the light from Skye’s torch leading the way. The priest stopped beside her and raised his eyebrows in inquiry.

She pointed to the door. “I heard what sounded like rocks falling. What is it?”

He sighed, shaking his head before explaining, “Sound carries oddly down here. What sounds like several strides away might actually be much farther. With the silence pressing in on us, any sounds—large or small—will sound louder than usual.”

“But what would cause that sound?” she pressed.

He shrugged, letting the silence speak for itself. “Come, we must reach our target before we stop for the night.”

Skye spoke up, “Why? Surely we can set up camp anywhere along this corridor.”

A pinched look crossed the priest’s features. His words held a note of command, “No, absolutely not. We must reach the waystation before we stop to rest. Trust me.”

Lara shared an uneasy glance with the others. What had they gotten themselves into?

The priest twirled around and strode back down the corridor, calling back to where they still stood, “Hurry, we cannot tarry.”

Skye gripped the hilt of his sword and ushered Eiren in front of him.

Come, My Lady. We have a long way to travel yet, Chion encouraged. Lara jiggled the pack to a more comfortable position and followed Skye’s wide back.

I’m really beginning to doubt the necessity of this expedition, she shared through their bond.

We were warned it might be dangerous, Solara.

She nodded without turning to look at the paka. I know, but don’t you think they could have given us more information? Simply telling us it is dangerous doesn’t quite tell us how.

Through their link, Lara felt Chion’s grudging agreement, though he didn’t appear as worried about the priest’s behavior as her. She ran her hands up and down her arms, feeling a chill creep down her spine as her suspicion grew.

She lengthened her stride, wanting to be as close to the others as possible. “They could have told us what to expect. What are we going to see? What will happen to us if the rituals don’t protect us?”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Skye grumbled in response. If the priest heard her, he made no attempt to defend himself. Knowing the warrior had the same misgivings didn’t make her feel better. She gripped the pommel of her sword, copying Skye’s unconscious move. Her stomach rolled; the sword couldn’t protect her from the danger ahead.

She honed in on the watery shield around her. Her breath escaped her, what she found spooking her beyond measure. Her shield no longer glowed a clean, silvery blue but a murky brown. Lara looked around her in fear. It was almost as if her magic was being diluted by an unclean presence.

Lara spent the next hour buttoning up her shield, shoring up every crack. It helped clear the color, changing it to a dark, dark blue. But no matter what she did, it refused to return to the vibrant color she was most familiar with.

They stopped several times to drink water and eat a few bites before pushing onward. When Lara felt like she couldn’t take another step, her entire body burning with fatigue, the priest cut left into a side hallway. Another left led them into a small cave.

A waystation. The cave’s walls were crude. She dumped her pack where she stood, groaning in relief as she stretched her back and shoulders.

Lara wiped the sweat off her face and neck, then flapped her shirt a few times, letting the air reach her upper back and shoulders to dry the material plastered to her skin. When Chion rubbed against her leg, she bent over and unknotted the straps on his pack. In a move only a feline could accomplish, the pack slid to the ground with a thump.

Eiren grabbed both their attention when she slipped by them, heading straight for the small stream seeping down the far wall. Eiren’s foot was a hairsbreadth away from the water when the priest’s voice rang out in warning, “Stop! Don’t touch the water.”

In a rush of cloth, the young man scrambled over to them. In a surprisingly strong grip, he latched onto Eiren’s neck and pulled the paka backward. Eiren fell hard on her side. Chion’s bone-chilling growl filled the room. The ring of steel rebounded against the walls as it left its scabbard. Too swift to follow, Skye vaulted across the space, his sword raised to strike.

The shock on the priest’s face was priceless. He took a few steps back, holding his hands out in surrender. He rushed to explain, “No one can touch the water. It invites the magic in the House to enter you faster, easier. It makes it impossible for you to complete your task. I had to stop Eiren before she touched it.”

When they all stared at him in consternation, his shoulders slumped. The man exhaled, his exhaustion and worry clear. He fluttered his hand toward the other side of the room. “Come. Let us sit and prepare a meal. I’ll explain more after we eat. There is much you do not know.”

Lara was chewing her last bite when Skye demanded, “Priest, if there was information we needed to ensure our safety, why wait until we entered where the dead rest?” Scowling, Skye crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not provide us the information before our lives are in danger?”

Chion sat up to stare at the young man.

The priest pushed his small bowl away, leaving a few spoonfuls uneaten. “We swore an oath. I couldn’t share the details unless you entered the House. We risked much for you to access the House without taking the priest’s vow of silence. If you had chosen at the last moment to find your answers through another, less daunting route, you could share what you’d learn with others.”

Lara leaned forward, curiosity drawing her brows up. “Why the secrecy? Why is it so important people don’t know what’s happening down here?”

He rubbed his hand through his scalp, tussling the hair, leaving strands to stick out in wild abandon. He searched each of their faces before nodding his head in decision. “Do I have your vow what you learn next will go no further?”

Lara sat back in surprise before she looked to Chion for his decision. His grim whisper reached her, We must, for we must learn the dangers.