CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE—OUTER SANCTUM

Further into the cave, Shiro realized the frigid cold of the environment had lessened here. But perhaps it was because they were out of the elements. “We need light,” he said.

Shiro took off his pack and removed three short torches from it. If Jessamine was here, he would have demanded she use her magic to light them, if only because of her joke with the fire during their journey to Darshuun.

Without her, he bent and struck a piece of flint with his dagger. The torch caught sparks and the wood fibers within started smoking. He blew on them and a flame appeared. Once the torch was fully lit, he made to light two more, but when the last one was still left to be lit, Debaku interrupted him by removing the glow stone from his pocket.

Ali regarded the stone. “Damn,” he said. “Why did I not bring mine?”

“You have glow stones?”

“Of course I do. I am rich, remember?”

The leather pocket Debaku had the stone incased in kept out all light, which was why they didn’t know he had the stone, Shiro realized.

A useful device.

“Is it getting warm?” Ali asked as he raised his torch.

Debaku nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

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“Yes.”

“I thought so too,” Shiro said.

The cave floor was wet. Actually wet which meant that it was warm enough to keep the water from freezing.

Drips echoed through the space as Shiro walked across tiles leading further in. Each tile was engraved with various images. Some had mermaids, others tridents, or what looked to be temple-like structures.

“Oh,” Ali said. “It drops off.”

Shiro nodded, and Debaku said, “There are steps leading down.”

“How do you know?”

Debaku just gave him a look and said nothing else.

They went down the steps. The roof of the cave was covered in short crystalline stalagmites that sparkled in the light of the three adventurers. As they descended the steps, the roof of the cave ascended out of their view to reveal a stone walking path with pools of water on either side.

Water dripped about from various places into those pools, the sounds of which echoed about the cavern.

“Spooky,” Ali said. “A lot like Akarilion, yes?”

“Hai,” Shiro said, nodding.

“Hey,” Ali said with a smile. “Maybe I will find myself my very own jinni in here.”

“Sorry,” Shiro said, “but that would be Razul’s jinni.”

Ali made a face.

“Be still,” Debaku said as he halted on the steps. “I smell the blood of men.”

“What?” Ali asked incredulously. “Are you trying to frighten me, man?”

Debaku didn’t even glance at Ali, he simply outstretched his arm, pointed with his finger in the direction he was indicating.

Ali smiled. “It is nothing, surely.” He stalked down the last few steps. Shiro followed. As their light lit the floor ahead of them, a body was indeed revealed—and it was the body of a man, an Abassir in fact.

“Oh gods,” Ali said, then he glanced about.

“I think there are no monsters in this chamber,” Shiro said, though that thought didn’t prevent him from glancing about as Ali just had.

Ali stepped forward and kneeled next to the corpse. “Mmm,” he noised, putting his arm over his mouth. “Dead a few days at least.”

“Why are you touching a dead man?”

He turned the body over. “It is not Razul.”

Shiro glanced ahead. “That is good. But… what will we find further in?”

“Let us find out,” Debaku said, and unsheathed his scimitar.