“Bastet,” I say, snapping to alertness. “What did you see?”
She bludgeons me with a feeling of ‘come on!’ even turning and taking a few steps down the slope as if too impatient to even wait for me to get up.
“No, really, what did you see?” I ask her firmly, getting up nonetheless and moving over to the pile of salamander meat chunks. Shoveling them into my Inventory in handfuls, I fill more than three spaces with the meat. In addition to what I’d added there earlier, I’ve now got almost five slots filled with this stuff. And the corpse isn’t completely picked clean. I also grab some of its bones – marrow would be a nutritious addition to my meals, and the bones may be able to be transformed into needles – something I desperately need if I want to stay clothed for even another month, let alone the rest of the year.
Bastet sends a feeling of irritation at me, but goes over to the cubs waking them up along with Lathani. Darting a look overhead, I see that the moon which had been shedding light before is now almost directly overhead. It’s probably only been two or three hours since I lay down; the thought makes me sag and seriously contemplate ordering the raptorcat to wait until I’ve slept myself out. Then I rein in my impulses. Once more, I ask Bastet to report back on her scouting, though this time send it as a pointed mental message rather than verbal again.
She replies back with what I can only describe as a mental sigh. Like she’s going to humour me only because she realises I’m not going to get moving until she does. She sends me a series of quick mental messages, like the ones from the tunnel towards the salt cave more sensation than visual image. A tunnel, much bigger than the one we had wormed our way through before. A hole into a narrower tunnel below, but still one with a fair bit of space to move. A hole above her head into another tunnel. Fresh air and light at the end of the tunnel. All great stuff, and not an enemy to be seen! Then she shoves another image into my mind, insistent in a way I’ve never known her.
At first glance it’s beautiful. An opening into a cave of wonders, all rubies and reflected rainbows of light. But I don’t get her eagerness. Sure, I’m happy to see it, though would be happier if I had any use for rubies right now. But I don’t understand her excitement. Bastet shoves the image at me again, her eagerness now tempered with frustration that I’m not getting it. She tries to make me understand in a couple of other ways before giving up. It leaves both of us feeling frustrated, but perhaps she’s right – I need to see whatever it is to realise exactly why she’s so excited. At least the tunnel has proven itself to be a better option for escape than the trees, even with my new flammable liquid.
To that end, I tidy up the last of the salamander meat – we’ll have to leave what’s left on the corpse since there’s no way I can lift that enough to fit it inside my Inventory. Then, with a quick look around, dropping into Fade briefly to make the most of my eyesight in the moonlight, I follow my scout.
The cubs complain as we walk, not taking kindly to being disturbed. A couple of growls from Bastet are enough to shut them up, though. Lathani is silent, moving like a ghost through the ashen field. As for the bird, she’s claimed a perch on River’s shoulder and seems to have gone back to napping.
We step carefully down the slope and soon approach the tunnel mouth. Having four sets of eyes looking around is far better than just one, and I feel a lot safer as part of this group than I did when I’d first arrived. I’m sure there are plenty of threats flying around at night, but I feel confident that we’d be able to face them together. Bastet and River both move with a practised ease and alertness which speaks to their experience of surviving in a dangerous world. Lathani, on the other hand, seems to be doing her best to copy the adults, though with limited success. Still, her natural instincts seem to be serving her well considering how often I lose track of exactly where she is.
As we get closer to the tunnel, I start to see a faint red glow emerging from it. At first wondering if I’m imagining things, when I peer down into the tunnel itself, I realise I’m not. The tunnel itself is reasonably steep, but not so much so as to need ropes to descend or ascend. There may be a few places where I’ll need to scoot down on my bum or go down backwards, though. I wonder how River will cope since he’s bipedal as well – I doubt the cubs or Lathani will have any trouble, though.
At the bottom of the slope, the tunnel curves away slightly, enough that I can’t see exactly what’s causing the light. Peering downwards, I wonder what could be the source. Torches from some other people who Nicholas wouldn’t class as ‘civilised’? Except no, it’s not flickering the way they would. Considering it’s a tunnel that’s angled steeply down, I hope it’s not something like lava – surely it would feel significantly hotter if we were close enough to see the glow of molten rock. It couldn’t be the cave that Bastet saw, could it? The light didn’t look bright enough to cause such illumination, but I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time looking through Bastet’s eyes turned out to be a bit inaccurate.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
At any rate, Bastet got through with no issues, so whatever it is shouldn’t be a threat. Bastet is already scrambling over the lip, encouraging the cubs to follow her. Apparently the decision is made – we’re going through the tunnel. I mentally grumble about it, feeling like I should be the one deciding. I manage to overcome my ego before I start snapping at my Bound, though. Honestly, I’d already made the decision as soon as I realised the tunnel seemed much safer than the trees. Snapping at Bastet for putting it into practice a bit more proactively than I’d like isn’t going to help anyone.
The entrance to the tunnel is steep; the tunnel itself is even steeper. As I’d thought would happen, I’m not comfortable walking down it and instead climb backwards using both hands and feet. The first few metres of the tunnel are the same rocky soil that composed the entrance, but the surface I’m climbing down soon becomes rock. River copes well enough with the rocky soil, but he soon starts copying my method as we get onto the rock where his foot-claws can’t get as much purchase.
My brows knit together as I try to work out what caused the tunnel – it’s remarkably smooth for a natural formation, my feet sometimes slipping in spots where there are few knobbles or dips. It almost looks like it was...melted? Looking nervously down the tunnel, I really hope that we’re not going to encounter magma. Or worse – a creature capable of melting stone.
I briefly consider the idea that the salamander created this tunnel, but soon dismiss it. The whole area might be big enough for a large lizard the height of a horse and width of a car, but I highly doubt it was capable of producing a flame hot enough to melt, no, evaporate stone, especially in the quantities required to excavate something like this. If it had been able to do that, River wouldn’t merely have been burned when blanketed in its flame; he would have been immediately incinerated. Besides, the liquid from the bladder he found was highly flammable, but not to the point of melting rock.
Which, of course, means that the cause of this whole geological strangeness is still unknown. If the past is any evidence, that in turn means that it’s going to bite us in the butt sooner than we’d like. Still, Bastet wouldn’t have led us into danger knowingly. I do wish I’d been able to understand more about what exactly has got her so excited, though…
We continue clambering down into the massive hole, the others doing much better than me. Well, apart from the bird. Which I still need to find a name for that she will accept – I can’t keep calling her ‘the bird’ in my thoughts. She’s still perched on River’s shoulder awake now and looking rather miserable. I understand – she’s a creature of the wind and sky, not dark underground tunnels. I’m sure she can’t be anticipating this with anything but distress.
“Hey, do you want to meet us outside?” I ask her gently. I can sympathise – I don’t particularly like tunnels either. Even less after my experience when finding salt, if anything. I can’t imagine how much worse it would be if my primary way of travelling was by flying and I had to go into a space where I couldn’t do it.
I get a feeling of reluctant desire, like she wants to go, but she also doesn’t want to leave us. “We should be coming out another entrance – where, I don’t know. You should be able to feel our direction with our Bond.” She sends a hesitant acceptance. A moment later, she uses her wing-claws to push off from River’s shoulder, flying dangerously close to the walls as she circles her way upwards. I think she only succeeds due to the updrafts coming from below: her wing span is almost a third of the diameter of the tunnel. From this angle, I’m able to see why she doesn’t have a tail: her back paws actually link together to offer the same benefits a tail would in terms of steering.
It’s not too long before she’s out of sight – once she was no longer in direct moonlight, I lost sight of her. I hope she makes it out of the forest fine. I hope we make it out fine too! Oh well – the only way is forward, I guess. River and I share another look and then without needing to say a word, continue climbing down.
Lathani moves easily, her four paws and claws offering plenty of stability. In fact, she looks like she’s rather enjoying herself, leaping from spot to spot, then running back up to urge us on. The cubs are similar, their personalities showing through in the way they approach the descent. Trouble with his devil-may-care attitude is instantly recognisable, as is Stormcloud with her meticulous approach. River is rather more grim-set, his claws offering more purchase than my fingers or shoes, but the whole motion looks a little odd with his elongated back feet. Still, like Lathani, his tail helps him keep his balance, even arching high over his head to push him forwards towards the rock when he accidentally leans too far back.
It’s hard work, and I’m sure that I would have long been exhausted had I not gained points in Strength relatively recently. As it is, I feel my limbs become leaden, the long period since I last properly slept, the frantic battles we’ve fought, and the continued physical exertion all combining to bring me close to the limits of my endurance. If I don’t get another point in Strength (Endurance) by the end of all this, I’ll probably throw the closest thing to hand at the screen. Which, due to its intangibility, probably means I’ll end up enraging a hibernating bear or something.
By the time we reach where Bastet is waiting impatiently for us, I’m panting and sweaty, my muscles starting to tremble even when I’m not putting them under strain. All my discomfort is wiped away, however, when I see what she’s found. It’s...Is it…? I...don’t actually know what she’s found. All I know is that it’s beautiful.