Chapter 25.

Lady Briziit turned to the right and the tunnel opened into a broader passage. With the low light levels, it took Vicki a few heartbeats to understand what she was seeing. Threads of silken fibre were stretched from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. With random placements they created haphazard iridescent patterns that glistening as if lit by an internal glow.

“Now dear, the trick is to get through this without touching any of the strings.” Lady Briziit twittered.

“That's impossible.”

“No not impossible. I've seen it done. A very small, slight person can manage it. I of course can’t get through without touching any, so move fast. Each time you touch a fibre it will trigger a section of the wall to close in on you. If you only touch a few, you can get through safely. I'll go through first and show you how it's done.”

Viky said nothing. She wasn't going to stop Lady Briziit, but if the process looked too difficult, she would return to the pace the spiral ramp had retracted into the ceiling and see if she could find herself a way out.

The older woman stepped over, under and then around the first fibres. Her choice of clothing now made sense. The trousers and tunic allowed for an enviable amount of freedom of movement, something Viky’s traditional nine-piece dress was not going to afford. There was, however, a simple solution to this dilemma. Carefully watching each of lady Briziit’s movements Viky begin removing layers.

She saw the first fibre being struck. Lady Briziit didn’t have quite enough flexibility in her hamstrings to lift her heel over a sharp diagonal. The woman continued unconcerned.

Viky jumped and spun. Jagged grating tore at the still air and echoed of the narrow walls. The passage dimmed becoming darker, ominous and obscure. Viky glanced behind; a solid rock wall slid across the passage blocking the escape route. Stormblast.

Turning back to watch as Lady Briziit ducked to crawl beneath a low strung string the course grinding noise notched up another level. Wood creaked, stone ground and metal screeched. To Viky’s horror the wall began to creep inwards.

Hanging around was no longer a viable option.

Vicky stepped over under and then around the first fibres. Vibrations merged with the desperate, ear shattering, and now continuous grinding. Lady Briziit didn't look behind, approaching the final quarter of her expedition she moved with increased speed, making little effort to avoid touching the strings.

Stormblast the woman, Viky, moving with care, picked up her pace. For once her lack of height proving to be advantageous. The walls, closing in on her, jerked and creaked. She couldn’t use her powers, but her parentals had trained her not to rely on them, so she forced her mind to focus. How were the walls moving? What powered the mechanism? And how was touching the strings connected to the wall’s movements? People had once needed to get through this section of passage to access the vaults. Switches had deactivated some of the other traps, had there been one for this trap? One they had missed, or that Lady Briziit hadn't known about.

Or, she had known about it and didn’t care.

Less than halfway through the strings and Viky became tangled.

Thin but with deceptive strength, the string didn't snap or break, and had enough elasticity to absorb the pressure she forced against them. The walls continued to advance, close enough for her too now to touch each side, if she could get her arm unravelled. The tangle of threads held her suspended a hands breadth from the ground.

Hair tumbled loose, covering her eyes.

Stealing her racing heart, she focused on each thread.

The walls continued to grind. Drawing closer.

Frustrated, terrified, she flicked her head, to clear hair from her eyes but the action caused her to glance up, a final twist freed her hands, mobile again Viky started to climb.

***

Dereniik glanced at the gaping hole and then at his companions. For people who spent most of their lives underground it always surprised him that nobody liked dark holes in the ground. The lack of God's Fire was equally disturbing.

“I think I should let you know that I don't see any point in my continuing with you. I can't Heal anybody without God's Fire. If I stay here, and anyone with injuries can make it back to me, I’ll have enough in reserves to be useful. Or at least enough to get them up the shaft and to further help. Down there, I’ll be useless.” Flagsteen said.

Shaar snorted, unimpressed.

“There's a difference between knowing your limitations and lacking courage my lady. If Flagsteen goes with us and somebody is injured, we will have to get two people back to this point. It's a wise idea for you to stay at this point.” Dereniik said.

“Also, you sent Ly off to get a Xianees friend. When they come back to this point if Commander Flagsteen is here, he will be able to tell them how to proceed.” Maddie said agreeably.

Dereniik thought a gaping hole in the floor would be a good indication of where they had gone but didn't point out that detail as her comment added weight to his side of the argument.

“But do you really think a Xianees person will be of any help? Aren’t they like animals, not even human or very clever?” Maddie continued.

“The evidence suggests otherwise. Whoever built this place, these devices, they were clever.” Sheeli said.

“And Maddie you should know not to believe everything you hear. We were surprised when we heard a group of women talking negatively about Diggers not long after we got here. If you believe them, you could be mistaken into thinking Diggers were sub-human, but we knew a Digger family, and they were great people.” Shaar added.

“And what about Vtandil and Vakhtang, our friends back in Wild waters who have Xianees ancestry, a few generations back, so it’s not that noticeable. But the races wouldn’t mix if they were a different species.” Sheeli added.

Dereniik didn’t weigh into the conversation, anything he added would only be repeating what had already been said. “Don't move about too much, we don't know if all the traps in this area have been disabled.”

Jieleen stopped dead in his tracks, he had been moving off to inspect the remnants of a doorway to the side. Withdrawing an extended hand his eyes darting and he licked his lips. “Some of the Phasing originated from people standing about where you guys all are. But other explosions have burst from behind these doors, from someone breaking out, not in.”

“Yes, I noticed that too. It looks as if some of them were rigged to explode when anyone started tampering with the door.” Dereniik said.

“We know why the centre of the floor was cleared now, I bet when we get down that ramp we're going to have to watch out as well. Things from this floor will fall onto the one below.” Shaar frowned.

“Jieleen, how good are you with a throwing knife?”

“Pretty much garbage, why?”

“I'm not going to be able to manipulate my crutches and wield a weapon. If you were any good, I was going to pass it over to you.”

“We have our slings,” Sheeli looked to Shaar who nodded.

“I'm pretty good at throwing things,” Maddie volunteered.

Dereniik’s heart skipped a beat. Women didn't wield weapons, but without God's Fire her Strength would be only what she naturally possessed. Dressed in frothy pink layers Dereniik had little indication of Maddie’s true muscular. He unclipped the sheath knife from his belt, reasoning at least now she had a way to defend herself but hoped it wouldn't be necessary.

“Oh, thank you, the casing is a bit plain.”

Maddie slid the blade out, checking its weight and didn't look like she was going to stab herself. Dereniik had a moment of regret, followed by guilt.

“It's very narrow, isn't it?” Flagsteen gestured towards the ramp.

“Yes, and most people are right-handed so going down, any drawn weapon would be against the wall, making it harder to defend yourself.” Jieleen pointed out, not that he had a weapon, or looked like he needed one.

Rock scraped against rock.

From the bowels of the hole a grinding screech commenced. A shiver run up Dereniik back and raised the hair on the nape of his neck. Within heartbeats the ramp compacted back onto itself. Silance fell as the floor resumed its original dished shape.

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Maddie had yelped.

“Moss and mould, now we have to open the stupid thing again.” Sheeli said.

“It must be on some sort of timed device.” Dereniik suggested.

“Not a problem.” Sheeli grabbed a blue rock from the floor and cast it with expert precision.

“If a timing mechanism is involved as soon as it opens, we are going need to move.”

Dereniik, spoke over the sound of grinding rock. Now aware of the opening diameter he hobbled a little closer, watching Sheeli rub her fingers on her skirt.

“What’s wrong with your fingers Sheeli?” He asked.

“Nothing, just a little itchy.”

“Do you want me to look at them?” Flagsteen asked.

“No, I said it’s fine.”

“What about your pupils being dilated?” Flagsteen asked, stepping closer.

“The light levels dropped. It’s dark, what do you expect.” Sheeli snapped.

Flagsteen glanced anxiously at Dereniik, then back to Sheeli.

“How dark?” Flagsteen insisted.

Dereniik frowned. “Lady Sheeli, did you brush against any of the other coloured rocks, when you reached for the last blue one?”

“I'm not an idiot, you saw how careful I was.”

“There was a pink smudge on that blue rock, I noticed it because I thought it was rather pretty.” Maddie said in a small voice.

“Moss and Mould.” Shaar swore, putting down the Vorreel and going to her sister’s side.

“Please my lady, it won't hurt for me to check. Better safe than sorry, and some toxins can impregnate other items in close contact with them. Particularly with the long exposure and proximity these rocks have been subjected to.”

“Let him Sheeli, our hands are valuable, you can't craft without them.” Shaar pointed out.

Flagsteen took the young woman's hands in his own, turned them over, exposing the palms. A red rash ran from the fingertips on one hand, as they watched peppered welts started to rise.

“That’s not good, that doesn’t look good.” Jieleen took a step back.

Flagsteen focused was on Sheeli’s hand, and as Dereniik watched scarlet faded to pink, the welts shrinking to pinpricks, and then disappearing. Flagsteen turned and retched. Sheeli followed suit a heartbeat later. Stale air became filled with a putrid smell that caused bile to rise in the back of Dereniik’s throat. Maddie gagged.

“Have you used up all your Healing Flagsteen?” Dereniik asked.

“Just about. If I go back up the ladder and rest while exposed to God’s Fire, I’ll be good to go again. But I would suggest Lady Sheeli take one of her sisters and visit the Healing Hall. If you ask for Healer Ryukyaan and say I sent you and will explain later, he will not ask you to many questions.”

“Is that necessary? My hands are not itchy now.” Sheeli set her chin at a defiant angle.

“I'm afraid so my lady, but be at peace, Healer Ryukyaan has greater expertise in this area than I do. If you go straight away all will be well.”

“I'll go with you,” Maddie volunteered. “You’ll need Shaar to hit the target again.”

Dereniik’s knife was returned, and just like that the six-person team became three.

***

Viky lay poised above the tunnel with a view of the surrounding structure. She couldn't understand everything, there was not enough light, but the strings were suspended in frames. On either side of each mobile frame, rock-faced partitions, suspended on rails, slid into an interlocking structure. The walls hadn’t moved and hollow spaces, where the partitions had been, now edged each side of her current position. The crawl space above the rails was only slightly higher than her prone body and as the section below moved into place shuffling had been necessary to avoid being pinched. Anxious moments were spent freeing snared clothing and what remind of her outfit no longer met with any standards of modesty.

Viky didn't care. Spending several heartbeats appreciating she had not made peace with her maker, Jieleen, and even her sisterhood, the frantic efforts extended to prolong life had borne fruit. Her irrational thoughts didn't matter of course, only in those moments, heartbeats hovering in despair, it had been important.

Her mind had chosen to take a curious excursion under pressure. She would need to think about what it all ment later.

No time for self-reflection now.

The structure was stable, but that situation could change at any time. How long would it be until motion commenced again? Belly crawling was the only option, but which direction? Every emotion and natural inclination wanted her to flee. Get out, get away from this place.

But Lady Briziit had reset the mechanisms at the top of the shaft, and under the archways, after she had passed through them. Behind her a rock wall blocked her return.

Was there a lever ahead? Something Lady Briziit needed to activate to reset the frames?

If she was careful, Lady Briziit would continue to think she was dead. An advantage? Not much of one. Her ankle was throbbing, and she’d twisted her arm and shoulder. Viky ground her teeth, that woman was not going to win.

Determined Viky wiggled forward.

***

Jieleen, Shaar carrying the Vorraal and Dereniik made it to the end of the ramp without incident. Dereniik had been concerned he would not be able to move quickly enough, and it was a close thing. The grinding noise, indicating approaching movement, commenced the heartbeat before he shuffled from the ramp.

Breathless and tyred Dereniik fought the urge to rest. He was a burden for the others, a necessary one, but an inconvenience never-the-less. The little knowledge he had of the structure had been useful and if there was more script, he would need to interpret it, but he was fast approaching the point of exhaustion. His mind moved like sludge. Remaining limbs heavy and unresponsive. He tucked the self-doubt away, it would return with a vengeance, but now was not the time.

The Vorreel, Amethyst, feelers extended, skittered on her lead. Pulling back, claws clicking, refusing to be consoled, eventually she was cajoled into continuing down a short passage to a junction room. At this point she curled in a ball and refused Shaar’s further encouragement. Dereniik wished he had that option.

“It’s possibly not necessary for her to continue with us.” Dereniik’s words echoed, returning to him in soft monotone.

“We follow the light?” Jieleem asked.

“Light, hardly. But, yes, follow the tunnel that’s less dark.” Dereniik said.

Shaar was painting almost as much as he was, her forehead glistened with perspiration.

There was nothing about to bind the Vorraal’s lead too, and Dereniik’s exhaustion limited his ability to care. Somewhere in the back of his mind a question niggled, but he needed to focus on recognizing and negating potential obstacles.

Jieleen pressed onward..

Previously mundane actions, walking, balancing, moving his crutches, became feats of endurance. He remembered this.

Days of frustration, helplessness, and the lurking knowledge that despite all his efforts it may not be enough.

He should have died.

Festering insecurities expanded, swallowing all that he was.

“Wait up,” Dereniik caught sight of more decorative script running at picture-rail height along the passage wall. Another poem. The flowing letters were art themselves, two lines weaving over each other in a serpentine pattern. Straining to decipher the running script Dereniik’s crutch slipped from his fingers clattering to the floor. He leaned into the wall.

The words were elegant and Deranick struggled to commit them to memory. His parent had delighted in ancient artifacts, but for Dereniik, real treasure was found in words.

“You OK mate?” Jieleen shifted from one foot to the other, impatient to continue.

“This passage tells us how to activate the ramp from this side. It's an acrostic poem. Beautifully crafted.”

“Well, that's great, does it say anything about what's ahead?” Jieleen asked.

“Apparently we have to sing this poem,” Dereniik knew some Xianees crib songs, and was familiar with the musical notations, but this was far more complicated.

“How do we get out?” Shaar panted, sweat trickled down the side of her face.

“There’s three levers, pushed one, three, two, one. Twice.” Dereniik showed her.

“The song may not be an issue.” Jieleen squinted into the gloom. “This passage is trashed, a whole lot of metal spikes collapsed into the floor.”

Shaar passed Dereniik his crutch and reluctantly went to join Jieleen.

Reluctant, Shaar’s hand had been shaking as she passed him the crutch. He should have seen it. She was close to panic. Terrified, only acting brave and tough. Was she feeling claustrophobic, or perhaps scared of the dark? It didn't matter, he needed to find a way to let her return while still dignifying her.

“My Lady, it looks like the traps have been deactivated from this point on, and now we know how to activate the ramp from this side I think it would be an advisable for you to take the Vorraal and return to the circular room. The Healer who is coming to meet us will need someone skilled with the sling to activate the ramp.” Dereniik suggested.

Shaar watched as Jieleen started picking his way over twisted metal. “Commanders are taught how to throw things.”

“Not with your accuracy. I am also concerned about the Vorraal. We don't want it wandering off and becoming lost in this labyrinth.”

“Yeah, Yeah, I guess so. River would be devastated if anything happened to Amethyst.”

“My Lady, be at peace, you've acted with bravery, but your skills are needed in that last room.” Dereniik assured her.

Shaar nodded, eyes sweeping the darkness before resting on him and coming to a decision. Without saying goodbye, she turned and left.

“More Phasing, someone long time ago took all this out of Commission.” Jieleen was unconcerned, focused on finding Viky.

Dereniik scanned the ceiling, attempting to imagine the original appearance.

“Do you think it's safe?” Jieleem asked but didn’t stop.

“I think we should be careful, but it does appear the whole structure has collapsed. The poem didn’t mention multiple traps.” Dereniik answered.

“Great then, let’s get going. Viky can’t be too much further ahead.” Jieleen picked up his pace.

***

Viky succeeded – barely -- to roll, avoiding being caught as the frames jerked into life. Grinding commenced as wood and stone scraped against each other in agony. Occasionally they would catch, a violent jar resulting as they were forced apart.

For anxious heartbeats it was enough to avoid getting limbs and fingers pinched between moving frames.

The structure shuddered, shook, and ground to a halt. In the distance a high-pitched whine saturated the space with unnatural vibrations. Viky didn't know how long the respite would last, and continued crawling to the front of the structure. Reaching it she half slid, half collapsed to the floor then flattened herself against the adjoining wall.

Lady Briziit wasn't in sight. Behind her the structure gave another half-hearted attempt at motion before the whine escalated to a shrieked, and abruptly cut off. The relief was immediate and profound. Viky shook her head trying to clear the last ringing from her ears.

Hugging the wall, she entered an imposing space featuring hefty marble floor tiles and multiple rows of elegant tall pillars. An enigmatic glow emanated from unknown sources and the smooth columns reflected a soft cold light. The air was frigid, moist, and smelt of mildew, rotten wood, and a bowl of stew that had been forgotten about and left in a corner for months. Droplets hung as mist as she exhaled.

Viky shivered, and for the first time in her life regretted not wearing the traditional women’s nine pieces of clothing.

In the distance Viky spied Lady Briziit, walking away from her. Dancing between the pillars. Touching some, avoiding others. Viky didn’t care anymore, she'd let the woman collect the Body Chains, if they were down here, and then she'd follow her back out. No more confrontations. No conversations. She was tired, hungry and her ankle throbbed something fierce.

Viky silently moved to a recess, swaddled in shadow. Pressed her back into the wall, regretted it less than a heartbeat later.

The rock was frosty and embossed knobs and bumps pressed into her back. The raised sections formed a picture, but her ability to appreciate art, tenuous at the best of times, had vanished. Wriggling numb toes didn’t remove the biting cold and she regretted the loss of slippers. Whatever Lady Briziit was doing she needed to hurry up. Climbing back up on top of the frames with insensitive fingers wasn't worth thinking about. What she needed was to rest and work out another plan. Conserve energy for the trip back.

She gathered the torn fabric of her underskirt and clumped it together to sit. Little protection from the cold ground but at least it was something.

Lady Briziit moved out of sight. Viky determined to keep an eye out for her return.