That night she lay in bed, hands laced behind her head, thinking through the situation.

First, there were the disturbances in the ether beside the river. She was sure they originated upstream. The ebullient nature of the ether in the gorge was presumably down to whatever was causing the disturbance. The constable had said that the area was on the edge of being Wild. She grudgingly admitted that this might be true. Was the ether in the Wild usually like that? She put that speculation aside and thought about her would-be murderer. Messeny had pushed her for a description but, truly, she had only a glimpse of his face before she was tumbling down the slope. His hat had flopped forward, too, shadowing his features. Now more relaxed, she tried again to recall the moment. A fringe of greying stubble, a wide mouth, nothing more. Wait! As she fell he had lifted his head, and for a moment his gaze had locked with hers. What was it? His eyes – they had been purple. A true, bright purple. Had the man been possessed by a spirit? Had he been a man at all?

Such things were beyond her competence. She was a mage-wright, not a scholar nor a reckless venturer. Yet her instincts rebelled against leaving this matter in the hands of the constable. She had, after all, been nearly killed. Even if it was the Wild responsible, and not a person, who knew where it might strike again. Even the Wild could not be allowed to go around shoving people off cliffs. Moreover, if the ether was behaving so erratically that persons were induced to violence, or other beings manifested as persons, then it was a problem for a magician, not a town constable. Aud thought of the practical town-mage, whose expertise was in cows, herd-sticks and crop encouragement. She somehow doubted these skills would be applicable to the situation. True, her own experience in this area was limited, but was she not a senior partner?

* * * *

Morning brought reconsideration. She was still determined to look into the disturbances, but now thought it unwise to do so alone. There must surely be someone in Terlwen willing to assist and able to cope with errant magic. She set out after breakfast in search of such a person. As expected, the senior town-mage was not interested. Nor was the junior, a spry old man whose practice was in fire and pest prevention, minor healing and drains. Disappointingly, neither could recommend any other person, and nor could the two Practitioners of the Healing Hands. Aud next tried the local chapter of the Companions of the Road. As the craft order charged with ensuring the safety of travellers, surely they would be able to assist. The chapter turned out to be an adjunct to an inn just outside the town and have three current members. Two were away on patrol and the third a callow youth. Aud sighed in frustration and made her way back to the town square, where she brooded over a tea and an almond pastry.

“You look like you have a worry,” observed a woman at the next table. Each noted the other: two women of similar age, and if Aud was tall and wide-shouldered and the other rounder, both had the same walnut complexions, warm brown eyes, the wrinkles that come with experience and dark hair speckled with grey. In the other’s case this was part-hidden by a red head-scarf; strong fore-arms, hands used to work and an old burn-mark across two knuckles completed the survey. Aud made a guess. “Would you be an alchemist?”

“Certainly am. I’m Fevende, Ghalios Fevende,” and she dipped her head in semi-formal greeting. Aud returned her name and they shared another pot of tea. Fevende was a good listener and Aud found herself telling of her findings, of the assault and of the constable’s lack of interest. Fevende tutted at the right moments, congratulated her on her escape and turned out to be a mine of information. Yes, the local Companions were few and over-worked, and no other similar orders were based in the district. The local militia was mostly an excuse to socialise and drink. The constable was indeed useless when it came to solving this or any other crime. A few veterans had retired to the town, but all were well along in age.

“It’s been a long time since Terlwen saw anything more than a drunken brawl,” Fevende said apologetically. “We are too far inland for pirates, the nearest fingers of the Wild are quite docile, and the bandits around here are rather timid.”

Aud laughed, then asked if Fevende could think of any suitable companion, “For I really do not want to go poking into trouble all by myself. That would not be sensible, or so I told my children. They would scold me in my grave if I came to grief.”

“I take it you are looking for someone with higher craft? We have two clay-shapers and two iron-singers, a fair number of folk with wood-craft or stone-craft, but of those who have passed the gate, not so many. Havlez would be ideal except that he had an accident a few years back and now spends most nights as some sort of flying thing. Something like a bat – no-one’s quite sure, but he sleeps all day. Hmm, Pelleseize is too old, no-one can get along with Shalmeire, Klaic is away down the coast...the only one I can think of is young Sebres. He can talk too much, but he’s honest to a fault, and he advanced quite swiftly in the Watchers before he left that order. As far as I know he’s at a loose end, and won’t ask for much money.”

Aud arranged to call at Fevende’s shop later and the two parted. By the time Aud had replaced her lost gear, sent a brief note to her husband, bought a few useful potions and met and agreed with young Sebres, the day was gone. The venture would start anew the next morning.

A little before noon the next day Aud pointed down the slope. “That patch of blue halfway down is the remains of my pack,” she told Sebres. He looked at the fall, at the boulder-strewn ground, the rapid river and pulled a face.

“If luck is real, then you had good store of it,” he acknowledged. Aud found Sebres a tolerable companion, if somewhat given to over-thinking things. He was tall, well-built, and handy with a spear, all of which might be a comfort if they met her purple-eyed assailant. His usual earnestness was relieved by sudden flashes of wry humour, and he was no sort of a bore. Now he leaned on the ash shaft while he examined the path. His scrutiny yielded no information at all, and they moved on.

“But truth and righteousness must come from somewhere,” Sebres said, returning to a topic that had occupied the last part of the walk. “Such divinities and other powers as manifest themselves to us are well-known to be fallible both in their conduct and their reasoning, and yet acknowledge the demands of justice, even if they defy them.”

“I believe the philosopher Aversoe taught as much, and so sought to prove the existence of higher powers. His critics rejoined that his argument entailed an endless regress, for what could give law and morality to such higher powers but other powers higher yet? And they in turn would need others beyond them.”

After a moment, Aud continued “And if there be such higher powers, why are they not known to us? The divinities of mountain and stream do not disdain to talk to us, if approached properly. Indeed, some come to us unasked.”

Sebres pondered this for a little, while Aud scanned the land about. The same straggle of stunted pines above, the same flow of chill air, the same scent of herbs and stone and dry lichen. The surround had a busy but not stressed feel to it, although there was still that underlying note of discord, a niggle like one string tuned too sharp among the instruments of an orchestra. Perceptible only to an attentive listener, but there nonetheless. The land was more quiet than two days ago, but that note conveyed to Aud a continuing tension. The string of a trap, perhaps?

Sebres had noticed her concentration, and held silent. When she told him of what she felt, he offered to use Land-Sense. Aud watched as he knelt, palm flat to the stony path, head bowed as he studied the back of his hand. When he rose, it was with a frown.

“I sense an unusual counter-motion, a smoothing over as if to conceal some deeper sign. I do not know if a malign intent is there, or some natural deformation of the ether.”

“We go on a little then, keeping a sharp eye out for the unusual, however that might appear up here.” Sebres nodded, and they walked on, around one bend, and the curve, around another. Aud was keeping a sharp look-out, eyes sweeping the path ahead, the fall to the river below, the opposite bank. Even so, the first flying animal came as a surprise. It arced out of the trees, a small screaming furry bundle clutching a pointed stick. Sebres gave a startled squawk, reversed his spear and batted it aside, out over the ravine. Aud briefly tracked its fading descent, then snatched her attention back to the slopes above.

“Misbegot! What was that?”

“An anteater, I think,” replied Sebres.

Another volley of animals launched from the trees. Aud did not bother cursing, but spoke Words that shaped the Invisible Defence. An armadillo scrabbled briefly at the solid air shielding her face before sliding off and down the slope. A possum armed with a sharp rock thumped at her feet and was likewise dispatched over the edge. Sebres stood, back against a rock, flicking furious creatures away with the butt of his spear. One hauled itself back on to the path only to be booted away into mid-air, chisel teeth scoring the leather in vain.

“Something’s upset with us,” panted Aud. “A land-spirit, perhaps?”

“Maybe. If we move on we may get out of its domain,” Sebres suggested. It was good advice, and Aud set out at once at a near run, wishing she had exercised more and appreciated food not quite so much. Two turns of the path and she braked to a halt, Sebres close behind her. Not twenty paces away two large bears stood shoulder to massive shoulder, heads raised and teeth bared. The Invisible Defence might keep one off, but two? One bear opened its jaw wider and gave a low rumble. Aud stepped back. The bear put a paw forward. Sebres laughed. Aud glanced at him; was her companion berserk?

“They are illusions,” Sebres stated confidently. “Here.” He stooped, tossed a pebble at and through the menacing beast. It raised a puff of dust from the path. Aud sagged in relief. Sebres stepped forward and Aud followed. The bears vanished just before he reached them, although not without a hair-raising snarl. Sebres turned his head to grin at her and sank down as if he had walked into a deep puddle. Aud lunged forward to grasp his arm, tripped, half-fell and sank along with him.

Aud kept her grip on Sebres and flailed about with her other arm as the dirt closed over her head. She failed to connect with anything. Instead there was only the dark and a steady sinking feeling. If there was feeling, it was something like dry water, a smooth flow over the skin, neither hot nor cold. It may have been seconds, or it may have been minutes before her feet touched a solid surface. From the change in the angle of her arm Sebres was now standing by her side. The blackness before her eyes was absolute, with not a hint of light. Aud let go and fumbled in the pouch at her waist. Her fingers found a small metal box, she pulled it out and flicked the catch. A soft glow showed first Sebres’ face mingling alarm and confusion, then a passage stretching away beyond the reach of her light. She turned around, to see a blank wall.

“Where are we?” asked Sebres in hushed tones.

“I’ll be a magic hedgehog if I know,” Aud told him. She saw no reason not to use her normal voice. It fell flat in the stone tunnel. Aud turned the light upwards, to show a stone ceiling. A prod with Sebres’ spear met solid rock.

“What now?”

Aud gestured down the corridor. “Can’t go up, can’t go that way, so we go this way.” She led off. “I only hope it does not branch too often, for I have a poor memory and no chalk.”

“I have paper and stylus,” Sebres said. “I jot down notes on what thoughts occur to me.”

“Then you shall be the cartographer of this new realm,” Aud told him. This new realm was a squared cut through the native rock, wide enough that two could walk side by side, high enough that Sebres’ spear was well clear of the ceiling. The air was cool, dry and still, the walls and floor plain and smooth. On they walked, level or perhaps slightly down – Aud could not be sure. The grey walls whispered past, the air remained quiet. A break in the monotony came as a relief, just when Aud feared that this might be an endless corridor, where they might walk forever. Her light shone on a dark rectangle where some branch led off, who knows where. They crept up to it, to peer cautiously around the corner. Another passage, spiralling down out of sight, the walls covered with an intricacy of carvings. Aud ran her eyes over it, searching for a hint of meaning. Was that the sign for the third tone, rising? There were elusive similarities, frustrating differences. She bent to look more closely, thinking it was time she had her eyes fixed. Her mind sorted and discarded speculation and pattern again and again, until a firm hand shook her shoulder.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Sebres apologised. “But you did not answer to your name, and have been standing there staring.” Aud gave her shoulders an irritated shake, keeping her gaze away from the wall, and straightened her back, grimacing.

“You did right. The patterns can trap the mind. I am sure we are in an ether-delving.”

“Who might have made it?” asked Sebres.

Aud shrugged. “Could be centuries old. Also, I read that sometimes the delvings wander, moving through the ground as the ether shifts. More to the point, what change caused it to send disturbances down the river?” They had no answer to this, so went on.

The spiral ended in an egg-shaped chamber with a deep narrow slot in the floor. A clear green fluid poured from a hole in the wall into the slot in an endless soundless stream. They watched for a moment, shone the light around, then returned to the upper corridor. The ways of the delving were beyond Aud’s understanding. Further on there was a stair that narrowed as it went up, only wide enough to admit a mouse at the reach of their light, a wall covered in waving cilia, then three small tunnels branching off, one low, two near the ceiling, each emitting a wavering pink glow. At the sound of voices they crept stealthily up to a turning, to find a nook wherein two statues held amicable converse in an unknown tongue. Aud thought one might be some kind of feline, the other vaguely reptilian. The main passage curved, then rose and fell as though traversing vast slow swells. Where it swelled out into a rounded chamber of glittering black obsidian, Aud and Sebres took a rest. Aud lowered herself to the floor, grimaced, massaged the small of her back.

“We may be down here some time,” observed Sebres, with what Aud thought admirable calm. “We still have the food we brought, and our water bottles. If it is safe to draw on the ether I can refill the bottles, and I can also make such things as our belts or clothes edible, if not tasty.”

“So we wander on until we perish naked? Not the way I thought my life would end.”

“Does anyone know in what manner their life will end, or at what time?” asked Sebres. Then, more practically, “We may not die here if we are permitted craft or words.”

Aud nodded. Magic might not be safe, but they could do little without it. She essayed Barbercheat, as the least risky spell she knew, then hastily uttered a stop tone. The normal gentle caress was now alarmingly brisk, her head suddenly lighter and her neck colder. She was not going to check in front of Sebres, but she was sure she now had no body hair at all and – she ran an exploratory hand over her scalp – a short bob instead of a ponytail. Oh well, hair grew back, and the new look – all of it - would amuse Jeoreh. At least the ether had not done something truly weird, such as spikes all over her body, no eyelashes (here she blinked) or lost fingernails. Sebres in turn gestured to induce a flow of water. The ether responded not with a thin trickle but a gush that splashed his boots.

“It seems that both craft and art will give us rather more than we intend,” Sebres noted soberly. Aud gave him an exhilarated grin. If a petty spell was so vibrant, what might a greater exercise of the art accomplish? She would be careful, of course, but she was definitely looking forward to finding out. It seemed there was nothing to be done here with this black glass, so they should go on. She took a mouthful of water and heard the bright gurgle of a mountain brook. Aud frowned, lowered the bottle. It was of her own make, a copper cylinder crafted to keep water pure and cold. She took another swallow, and heard the same sounds. She looked at her dried fruit with suspicion and popped a raisin into her mouth. It made a squeak. She stolidly munched her way through the rest, to the accompaniment of small screams, moans and cries. It was the first meal she could justly describe as orgiastic. From his expression Sebres was having a similar experience. She finished her boisterous repast and eased back to her feet.

The exit passage was arched rather than square, the walls a deep purple, the floor slabs of malachite swirling green and black. They passed a stretch of ceiling where small points of light blinked in some inscrutable code, stepped gingerly around a cone giving off low groans and came to a fork, one passage descending, the other rising. They took the rising path, but it meandered around to a dead end after a hundred paces. Back they went, and turned to go down.

This passage was broad and square, the surfaces a tessellation of different stones: grey granite, pink sandstone, dark basalt, a leaf-shape clear on shale, a variety of marbles, others Aud could put no name to. The floor steepened, then steepened again until they crept with one hand braced on the wall. When their light showed a larger space before them they slowed, to inch up to the opening. They stood at the head of a stair that might have graced a royal palace, a broad sweep of stone steps flanked by balustrades carved in low relief, each step edged with a band of semi-precious stones, each rail topped with a fretwork of silver over red marble. At the foot of the steps a floor smooth as ice stretched away into the shadowed distance. Aud and Sebres exchanged glances. Neither wanted to speak. At last Sebres turned his palm upwards, in a ‘what else can we do?’ gesture. Aud nodded. They crept down, step by cautious step. At the bottom step Aud swept the light around, holding it high. The beam played over the nearest walls, where ribs of stone writhed like branches in a storm-tossed forest, then over a floor smooth and bare. In the deep quiet there was the faintest sound, the liquid whisper of water over stone.

By unspoken mutual accord Aud and Sebres skirted the room, senses as alert as those of small animals venturing into new territory. Aud felt that, if she had whiskers, they would be twitching. A corner of her mind recalled mention of a spell that extended the senses via antenna sprouting from the temples. She would look it up on her return. Step by step they moved in their pool of light, along to where great many-angled pillars rose into the gloom above. Behind them the light shone on water as still and flat as the marble floor, fed by a wall of wet stone. If this connected to the river, it might be the source of the disturbance. They both bent to look more closely, Aud angling the light to shine on water black as moonless midnight, their light a star refracting from the surface. Sebres touched her arm, pointed.

“I can see brighter patches.”

Aud peered down, holding the light high. “I see them. Are they getting larger?” She bent further forward. There were two patches, black on black, a few hand-spans apart. Her ether-sense, dulled by the battering flows of the delving, suddenly flared into life, a wrenching flare of nauseous chaos. Whatever was in the pool, it was large, bad and coming fast.

“Run!”

Sebres did not hesitate, but spun about and took off, Aud following. From behind came the slosh of water spilling over the marble. They ran past the pillars, along the wall. A vast thud reverberated through the stone. They ran on. Where were the stairs? Silver glimmered ahead and they veered over, ran up the steps. The thuds had become a continuous pounding. Aud bounded up the stairs, gasping for breath. Sebres had halted at the top, and she risked a look back. Almost at the foot of the stairs was a creature of nightmare, a glistening bulk of stone heaving itself along on straddle legs, blunt mouth-less head marked by two eyes black as opal. They turned and fled up the passage, hoping the creature would not follow. Their hope was misplaced; they felt the air tremble as the monster squeezed into the corridor. Aud’s sides ached and her breath came in painful heaves. She slipped on the steep slope, and Sebres caught her arm.

The moment provided inspiration. She made a few more steps, turned, spoke Words, hurling etheric forces at the floor. They came easily, the match with the surround flowing off her tongue. The onrushing creature met the enchanted surface and slipped, scrabbling at the stone. She cast again, and again, extending the reach of the spell down the passage, then added another spell that pushed hard. The creature slid back, gathering speed, and she recklessly drew on access to slick the floor behind, and again to push hard. The creature’s weight was its undoing. It flew backwards to crash down the steps.

They had passed nothing that might provide refuge or escape from this thing. Attack was the only option. Aud Aud threw herself forward and up, down into the room, around the corner and up the wall, her splayed hands clinging to the stone. Below the creature was trying to struggle to its feet, head whipping about as it sought purchase. A chance blow shattered the balustrade, scattering chunks of marble. Here was a weapon, if she were quick. Aud was down the wall like a lizard, to touch a jagged rock the size of her head and whisper Words, then up as fast as her arms and legs could thrust. The creature charged across the floor and reared up, digging claws into the carvings. The head pounded against the stone a scant palm’s width from her foot, almost shaking her loose. She gained another length, reached out with her mind and lifted the rock, then slammed it into the side of the creature’s head. Chips flew from the blow, but the creature advanced a huge clawed foot, unfazed. Aud scooted even higher, lifted the rock again and brought it down on the wrist. Three, four, five blows and the joint broke. She reached for the ether again and slickened the stone under the other foot, then battered that one loose.

Supported only by the hind claws, the creature bent back from the wall, at first slow as a tree, its roots undermined, leans to the earth. For a moment it hung there at a fantastic angle, then passed the tipping point and tore away from the wall, to plummet down and on to the unyielding floor. It landed awkwardly, one leg breaking off with an audible crack. Still it made no sound, but turned those implacable black eyes on her while scrabbling for purchase with its maimed limbs. Aud had found its weak point. She hefted the chunk of marble, and attacked another leg, hammering away at the joint until it collapsed. One more, and a hulk of evil stone lay there in impotent fury. Aud slowly climbed down, to circle the beast at a respectful distance and call up the stairs.

Sebres’ answering voice was weak with relief. “I can’t get down to you; the floor is too slippery and there is no purchase on the walls.”

“Slide and I will slow you,” Aud called. When Sebres had landed and regained his feet he regarded the crippled monster with awe.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Stone demon is my guess. Some curdle of the ether animating stone, stone that hates living things. It is still present in the rock – see how it moves.”

“How do we destroy it?”

The same way she had crippled it, Aud told him. Her original piece of marble was much reduced. She let it drop, gauged her remaining access to the ether, darted in to touch another chunk, and grimly bashed away until the eyes winked out and the body collapsed to dust. They both felt the change in the ether, like the first gulp of clean air after escaping a fire. Aud sagged against the balustrade on the bottom step and took stock.

She would not have believed that she could cast with such frequency and force. The ether had given her access far beyond her usual scope and Words had flowed from her tongue in instinctive match with the surround. Never had magic been so commanding, so intoxicating. If her first spell was a first kiss, this was even more wonderful. It was exhilarating and dangerous, and she wanted more. But first they had to escape this delving. She took a swig of water, munched a handful of dried fruit and wondered if it would come down to deciding if her belt would taste better than her boots.

Two steps up Sebres was also taking a sparse meal. Aud regarded his pensive face. Did his thoughts run along the same lines? Did users of craft experience the ether in the same way as magicians? She really did not know.

“What are you thinking?”

Sebres looked up, then paused a while before answering. “I was thinking on what directs the ether that it can produce such things as these.” He waved an arm around broadly. “What makes rock hate the living?”

Aud pursed her lips. “Hate is perhaps the wrong word. It might be that the rock is reacting, once it has the power to move, against the assaults of living creatures. After all, plants split it apart, humans chisel away at it, weather abrades it. Or it might be that stone demons are like pike, that will attack anything that moves near them."

“Pike do that to eat and so live. It had no mouth. Also, motive implies memory, and empathy with other rocks. After all, we had done no harm to that rock,” Sebres argued. Aud sighed. They were back to the big questions, when what really mattered was ‘Where is the Exit?’ She gave a non-committal grunt and suggested they check the area.

A careful circuit showed no exit, unless they were to dive into the pool. They agreed this was not an immediate option and returned to the upper passages. The most careful exploration failed to find anything more than what they had seen before. They sat slumped at the very top, tired and frustrated. They had enough water, and food for one meagre meal. Then it would be belt or boot time. Sebres had another problem.

“Is it safe to pee?”

Aud shrugged. “The surround is lighter, more friendly, now the demon is gone. I think the delving will not react strongly if you use Green Powder. But please experiment down the passage.”

When Sebres came back he reported nothing more alarming than an orange flash. Aud followed suit, and they both stared at the wall for a time. A poke with the spear confirmed the roof was still solid.

Sebres jabbed at the rock in front of him. “Can we tunnel our way out? I can make myself strong, but I have no hammer or chisel.”

“What does your land-sense tell you?” Sebres laid his palm on the stone, slid his hand along the wall to the end of the passage.

“The sides of the passage are warded, but the end is not.”

Aud considered, then consulted her spell-book. It was a fat volume, but largely contained spells used every day at the Mage-Wrights. Sixteen spells for the manipulation of copper in combination with other materials, nine for gradations of light and heat, three for grafting odours into stone – all unlikely to be of use. She turned to the front, flipped through to those from her year as an advanced student. The ink had faded little over thirty years. The Compulsion to Verity had produced some embarrassing moments, both for herself and her fellows, but was hardly applicable to their circumstance. As was the Green Web and the Warding Helm. Ah, but here was the Invincible Drill. True, it made a hole little more than a hand-span wide and an arm’s length deep, but with repeated application they might reach the surface.

Sebres agreed it was worth a try, calculated the best height and angle and marked the face. Aud cast the spell and watched a tiny red whirlwind eat into the rock. After three minutes it dissipated with a small chirp, leaving a neat hole. Aud checked her remaining access; she could cast no more until she had slept. The cold floor was a far cry from her own bed at home or the chamber at the inn, but it would have to do. Her pack made a pillow, and Sebres gallantly offered his coat. She was too tired to object.