With furtive moves, they hurried across the open ground ‘tween the gardens and the house, crouched low as they ran, all prayers and hopes bent towards not being spotted by watchers within. Their fears were assuaged as they reached the building without hue and cry being raised, safe for the time they believed, or as safe as could be on such a fraught adventure.
The windows of the building were set high, too high to be of use to see through, or gain easy access, their use being just for admitting light it appeared. They scurried along the base of the wall, seeking out alternate ways of entry, moving low to the ground, eyes ever on the move for fear of surprise.
Coming around the rear of the building, they saw no obvious entrance into the building itself; rather they found set into the ground a short way off a hatch, one strangely placed as it was not close enough to be part of the building, yet not far enough to be separate.
Ivkarha glanced up, to where a pair of windows peered down; they could not be seen from them, crouched against the wall as they were, but they offered a perfect view of the hatch, and any who may try to use it.
“It may be that we could try the windows,” she whispered. “They could be reached much as we scaled the walls.”
Kato followed her gaze, then turned it to the hatch. “Either way is a risk, and if any are there, then it makes no difference one way or the other. Both would lead to bad ends.”
“Aye,” Aedmorn agreed, “Both are not without risk. My head says to go one way, but my heart the other.” He let his eyes slip shut for a moment, concentration writ upon his brow. “There is life both within and below,” he announced, “More so below, but beyond that I can not say, whether beast or man or otherwise.”
“There is death too, below,” Ivkarha added. “Fresh, recent.”
“How recent?” Aedmorn inquired of her.
“There is little decay; within a few days at most.”
A slow nod of his head, a scratch at his short beard. “I would say that it behooves us to uncover what lies beneath,” Aedmorn stated.
“It is most like just rats,” Kato pointed out. “Would not the way above be a better option?”
“No,” interjected Ivkarha forcefully. “It may be that it is just rats, but my bones tell me it is not so.”
“We must pursue this,” Aedmorn added in support, “For it may aid us in uncovering the mysteries of Zalasfir and his doings, and to the recovery of the Soul of Angfaeled.”
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“If you say,” said Kato. “If we must, we must.”
“We must,” Ivkarha told him. Darting forth, she made her way across to the hatch, constantly looking up at the windows. No reaction came.
“Too easy,” Aedmorn murmured softly too himself.
“I prefer it that way,” Kato commented. “Let us not begrudge a turn of good luck.”
Aedmorn smiled wryly in the faint starlight. “Luck ever has a way of changing. But you are right; it is best not to overthink matters.”
Ivkarha had hauled open the hatch by the time the two men arrived at it, kneeling down to peer into the darkness of the pit that it had revealed. Not even the faint starlight was able to penetrate the gloom to reveal what lay beneath, but sound arose to greet them, a soft slithering and a sibilant hissing.
“Snakes,” Ivkarha noted. “A pit of snakes.”
Aedmorn reached in with his staff, extending it down as far as it would go. At first he could touch nothing, but only when he lay down, reaching in with his arm did the end of the staff touch the bottom of the pit. “It is of no great depth,” he announced, withdrawing the staff and resuming his feet. “I will enter, to see what can be found.”
“Do you not fear the snakes?” Kato asked of him. “I can see no good reason that they would be contained within if not for nefarious purpose.”
“I am cruaith, as you remember,” Aedmorn pointed out. “I shall be in no danger.” So saying, he dopped his staff into the pit, before swinging down into it, his hands grasping the edge of the pit, and lowered himself full into it. Releasing his grip, he dropped to the floor. Above, Kato and Ivkarha heard the sound of the snakes intensify, before a faint green light began to glow.
Looking down, they saw Aedmorn standing in the middle of the pit, one that extended outwards from the hole, his staff in hand. At the tip it glowed, faint and green, casting just enough light to see around with.
A mass of snakes of all types, sizes and colours pulsated across the floor, a writhing, twining mass, though none came near Aedmorn, remaining at a distance from him, almost as if they were being repelled. There were bodies as well, three of them, their legs and arms bound before they had been dumped into the pit.
“Exection by snake bite,” Kato mused. “Not a pleasant fate.”
“It would appear that you are correct,” Aedmorn noted. “All bear the signs of having been bitten with a venom most potent.”
“Who are they?” Ivkaraha asked.
Aedmorn knelt down beside one of the bodies, turning it over, looking into the bloated face. “Ah,” said he. “I should have suspected.”
“Are they are thieves?” Ivkarha asked.
“They are.”
Kato ran a hand over his scalp. “The ones who took your bauble.”
“The same,” Aedmorn replied. He tossed his staff back up out of the pit, Ivkarha snatching it out of the air as it emerged. Then he jumped, grasping the edge of the pit and pulled himself up out again. He closed the hatch before taking his staff back from Ivkarha.
“This proved one thing,” he stated.
“What is that?” asked Kato.
“That Zalasfir is indeed linked to all of this, and the missing gem. We will, I should not wonder, find out the answers we desire inside the house.”