Ramal’s shirt back was torn to bloody ribbons. Roxy pulled strips of linen aside to inspect the cuts, then let them go. “Take this off. Be careful about it though, it’s about to fall apart.”

Ramal managed not to destroy the shirt although the double thick collar and hem were all that held the back together. His upper and mid back were a bloody mess of thin cuts and road rash. Roxanna picked small pebbles out as she spoke, “This would normally take a month to heal, maybe more. So, we can use this as a test, to see how quickly our Kuoran bodies heal.”

Quietly she felt compelled to heal the injury, like she should be able to, but something prevented her. The damaged tissue just felt distant. As if she was viewing the injury through glass. Even gently touching the cuts it felt as if her fingers should be able to feel more. With a small scowl she withdrew her hand. “Leave that shirt off for now so I can monitor the healing.”

Ramal tucked the shirt into his waistband as he turned back toward them. “Seems like the hellion has decided to wait us out.” And, he was right; the noises of its struggling had disappeared. “So, Roxy. Where are we?”

“Well, I still don’t have the satellite location skill, yet.” She answered wisely, “But I’m fairly certain this is a hub for the exhaust side of a ventilation system.” She pointed at several locations on the walls. “There are other tunnels like this there, there, and there.”

She pointed to the far side of the room. “And, over there, is a large hole that the air is coming out of. This whole place is made of the same stone, except the back wall which is one huge slab of steel.”

A minute later, standing around the opening, with their hair blowing back the three peering into darkness. “Anyone got a rock?” Dnoeth said in jest, then looked pensive. “You know…” He went to go find one.

Ramal bent to one knee, feeling along the inside edge of the four-by-four square hole. “Hum, smooth.” He commented, edging around the opening to feel all four sides. “All smooth. No gaps or handholds that I can find.”

He stood, moving to inspect the back wall. Walking slowly to the left he scanned it from floor to ceiling while running a hand across its surface. “This is really strange.”

Roxy followed his lead, moving toward the other end of the wall doing the same thing, they walked out and then returned meeting back in the middle. Neither found a single crack, seam, or imperfection. Looking between the hole and the wall, Roxy puzzled aloud, “Why is it here?”

Ramal stepped back to the far side of the hole to take in the whole of the back wall. “No idea,” he said, scanning the continuous slab from side to side. “But I’d say it’s the most compelling bit of magical work we’ve seen so far.” Then added, “Aside from the indestructible, never-ending, cliff road.”

As his eyes took in the back of the room, he looked at the ceiling over the hole and noticed something there. He pointed at it. “What is that?”

“Huh. Looks like some kind of Runes.” Dnoeth said from just behind him. Then the smaller man rounded to Ramal’s right and stood on the pit edge looking up at the markings.

“It is, it’s runic script.” Roxy agreed, then amended, “Or maybe runic glyphs.”

Dnoeth thought the glow around the runes was odd and he wanted to get a better look but first he needed to satiate his curiosity about the hole. He held up a rock half the size of his fist and smiled. “That demon was at least good enough to knock loose some useful rocks.”

He held it at arm’s length, then dropped it. They all held their breath, trying to be as silent as possible so as to not miss the sound of its impact. Ten seconds passed, then twenty, then thirty, after a minute, Ramal exhaled a sigh “Damn. That’s one deep-ass hole.”

He turned to Roxy, “Do you think you can read or interpret the glyphs?”

She shook her head, “No, they just look like shapes. Maybe they’re the name of this place or some kind of location indicator. They look benign but–”

“I don’t think so,” Dnoeth cut in. “Can you not see the glow?” Both Ramal and Roxy leaned over the hole to peer closely at the markings.

“Nope, nothing,” Ramal replied.

Roxy shook her head. “Me either. What do you see?”

Dnoeth moved to the far side of the hole, looking across the pit at the tunnel opening they’d emerged from. That seemed to put the glyphs right side up. “They’re all bluish, except one that looks orange. It’s faint, but they’re definitely glowing.” He then nodded at Ramal and asked, “Can you boost me up there?” The ceiling was near ten feet high.

“Yeah, climb on.” The close on seven-foot man replied as he rounded the hole and took a knee, where Dnoeth climbed atop his shoulders. When he stood Dnoeth was only a foot from the stone ceiling. Ramal straddled the opening with ease, giving him access to the markings.

Close up, he could see Roxanna was right, they were independent glyphs, six of them, and he told his companions as much. The top four were similar and arranged in a box. Two pairs of two, if his instincts were correct. The fifth was centered below those, it was the one with the orange glow, and the sixth was below it.

He focused on the top pair first. Both were eight pointed stars, although with very small points. Really, they looked more like two squares, overlapped with one square turned forty-five degrees. This made the octagon within their main feature.

Within the first was a counterclockwise spiral, like a coiled rope, which ended pointing up. Within the second the spiral was clockwise and ended pointing down. He got the distinct impression they were directional, and he wondered if maybe the airflow could be reversed using those.

The second pair was the same double square, forming the central octagon. Within the first was a vertical line and within the second, a circle. He knew these immediately, or at least thought he did. On and off? Is it that simple? And why two of them? Separate on and off buttons seemed redundant. Then he had to smile. What the hell do I know, they’re glowing symbols made of rock.

He looked at the orange glyph, it was different. There weren’t any boxes, instead it depicted a spiral, like the first two, but set on an angle, as if he was looking across it. The tilt reminded him of pictures of the Milky Way. Six wavy lines ran vertically through its middle. This one he didn’t get a clear idea about. This could be the power button. Or maybe fan speed?

He hummed pensively then inspected the final rune. It was a simple square with two characters inside. Up close he could see that its glow was actually colorless, just a dim white.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

It seemed the least threatening, so he figured to touch it before the others. First though, he explained what he’d seen and his thoughts on the glyphs to his companions.

After he had, Ramal asked, “Are we safe standing here, right over the hole?”

“Ahhh... I think so.” Dnoeth replied, then added with more conviction. “I’m pretty sure we’re ok. Besides, how else am I gonna do this?”

“You could jump across. Touch it on the way by?”

“That seems dangerous. I might hit more than one or hit the wrong one.” Dnoeth looked back at the six symbols. “Not that I really know which is right or wrong.”

Humming, Dnoeth bobbed his head pensively. “No. I think this is better. I want to see any reaction. Even though I’ve got a sense for them, this is ancient magic, I may learn more by watching closely. And we need to learn, understand how this world works. This is one of our first real chances to do that.”

Ramal shook slightly beneath him as he chuckled. “Alright, bud. Good enough for me. But if we die, you owe me a beer.”

“Deal!” Dnoeth agreed exuberantly. Can I buy beer here? We need to find some Dwarves!

Beneath him, Ramal tilted this upper body back just slightly and said, “If something goes bad, I’ll jump straight back.” The large man looked at Roxanna. “Any thoughts, Roxy?”

“Nope. Although I’m going to step back. Just in case.”

Dnoeth focused on the runes again. “Ok, here goes.” He reached up and touched the bottom rune with the two characters. His finger tingled and then a notification window appeared.

Checking access authority...

After a couple seconds a second line appeared.

Unable to determine access authority. Provide blood sample for testing.

Beside the glyph, a small oval depression appeared in the stone. Dnoeth frowned. “Okay, this is weird.” He looked down at Ramal with a twist to his lips, realized he couldn’t see the man and turned to Roxy. “I got a system notification. It wants a sample of my blood to test if I have the authority to access”–he glanced at the glyph–“whatever this is.”

He shrugged, casting a doubtful look at her. “I don’t know how I’d have authority to do anything. But letting it test seems harmless.”

Roxy tilted her head. “I’m not sure about harmless, we don’t know anything about this place, or who built it, or what’s down that hole. I’d say clueless is more accurate than harmless.” Then she shrugged too, offering him a thin smile and raised brow. “That said, I think you should let it check.”

“More to the point,” Ramal cut it. “It’s our only option. Give it some blood. We don’t have a blade though, so check your knees or bite your lip if you have to.”

Dnoeth found that the blood on his scraped-up knees was dry and the small cuts were just beyond the point of scabbing, showing fresh pink skin. With some anxiety he sucked a fold of skin from his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. “Arrhh. Shit that hurts.”

“The lip?” Ramal asked.

“Yeah, the fuckin lip,” he mumbled.

“Heals fast though,” Ramal said. “Even faster here I’m sure, and it’s a good trick if need blood in a pinch and don’t have a blade.”

Roxy tilted her head at the man’s back as Dnoeth slowly dropped his gaze to the top of his head, finger hovering before his mouth.

Ramal felt their eyes on him. “Stories for another time.”

Dnoeth wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any of those stories. Other than this exact situation, he couldn’t think of any reason he’d need blood, ‘in a pinch’.

“Okay.” He shook it off, dabbed some blood onto his finger and pressed it into the indentation. A system notification appeared.

Testing... Access granted. Access level: Varden - Yorbie

In the side of his vision a small column of runes appeared. “Hey! Look at this.” He grinned, inspecting the runes. They were copies of the five others on the ceiling. “It approved me. I now have Varden -Yorbie level access, which is apparently good enough for operating these runes. Better yet, it gave me remote access. I’ve got rune buttons in my display now.”

“That’s great.” Ramal said as he stepped back from straddling the hole and took a knee.

Dnoeth dismounted and with a glance to each of them, he repeated himself, “Okay. Here goes.” And activated the runic button with the line.

At the top of the rear wall, dead center behind the pit, seams melted into the metal wall around a backpack-sized rectangle. A moment later the metal within it turned glassy and shimmered. “Wooah…” Dnoeth breathed, unconsciously stepping closer. Roxy and Ramal both moved away from the phenomenon.

A thin ribbon of liquid metal began to extend from the top center of the rectangular area. Ripples of metal flowed toward that point, where they were gathered into the cable that was growing across the ceiling toward the runes. Just beside them, it pooled then began to form into a shape.

In seconds the shape was recognizable as a pully and it reverted to a dull solid, like the wall. As it did, Dnoeth found himself right on the edge of the hole staring up, unable to get any closer.

The line of liquid then threaded itself through the pully and ran down toward the hole. At floor level, over the seemingly bottomless pit, it started to spread out like syrup being poured onto a table.

Dnoeth squatted in front of the spectacle, then he laid flat on his belly to try and see what was supporting it. He couldn’t see anything.

The puddle spread out to the edges of the hole where it hit another invisible barrier. Dnoeth’s face was right up next to it. He stared with intense curiosity; his racial ability active allowing him to see the countless motes of essential light. He began to feel acquainted with the liquid metal, like he could almost grasp what was occurring.

In the quiet of his mind he began to hear the faintest chiming of bells coming from it. Like a symphony of joyous fairies ringing a thousand thimble-sized silver bells was right there in front of him.

He reached toward the liquid and touched it with the very tip of his index finger.

His mind filled with the magical melody and the entirety of his awareness was spellbound. The music rolled through his very being, bringing with it a euphoria like he’d never experienced.

Laced into the chiming was a continuous refrain; a backdrop of purpose within the melody. Every peal of crystalline sound added to it, winding together into a chorus that sounded as if it was asking a question. The question was communicated in the manner of a subtle facial expression between lifelong friends. It was–

The floor shook suddenly, disturbing his focused trance, and part of his attention snapped back into the room while some stayed with the music.

The space was filled with the echoing vibrations of hammering and violent chittering and screaming. The demon trapped out on the road was suddenly enraged to a level of near insanity.

The raw power of its anger brought forth a fearful quiver in Dnoeth and his mind stopped. Then, so did the music.

That last few ringing notes faded and with them the frenetic tenor of the beast lessened. His internal world dropped into dead silence with the implication. It doesn’t want me to have the music. Right on the edge of his awareness, the chimes seemed to almost hum with anticipation, they were waiting.

With an absolute clarity of purpose, he refocused on the symphony of ringing. If the demon cow doesn’t want me to have this, then I damn sure need to get it.

The concerto of bells washed over him once again, and with his renewed focus Dnoeth grasped something of what was in the living metal. There was beautiful power here.

Within the peeling song was an unsealed agreement that granted access to that power. He wanted power. He needed power.

No. It was more than that. They needed power.

The music began to swell, generating energy waves that he could feel run over his skin. The tones began to take on the shape of a playful personality. The background of intention in the harmony, the chorus, and its single repeating question resolved: Do you want us?

His own voice in this world of musical communication resonated from his sternum and he rang it into the concert of exuberance like striking a mighty brass gong.

YES.

The tone washed over the millions of tiny bells with concussive force that silenced the symphony. The certainty of his agreement resonated through the melodic universe where his consciousness hung. For a long moment its echo filled the emptiness.

Then, as if they all possessed tiny faces, he felt the multitude all turn their attention on him.

Like a great throng of miniscule beings, they crowded forward and rushed over his being. Their cool flood flowed over his body, cocooning it. As he was enveloped, the resonance within the bells began to harmonize with his tone. Each one incorporating a second note that rang in accord with the great brass gong that he now carried just below his sternum.

When the whole of the cocoon rang clear, each with its original and a harmonized second that resonated to his core, as one, they all cut off.

For a heartbeat there was nothing but silence, then Dnoeth was pierced with ten million needles.

His scream shattered the silence.