Jun'ai despaired. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. This mission was one disaster after another. It had seemed like such a good idea at first. Flushed with anger, thoughts of vengeance filling their heads, they set out for justice. Now, a month and a half later, they had to face the harsh reality of their situation. They were lost, half a continent from home, their guide dead, their supplies depleted, with no idea how they would complete their mission.
She found solace in thoughts of Hyun. Her daughter would be standing by now. Her tiny hands gripping furniture for support. Her face so open and trusting, like a flower in this brutal world.
She thought of Hakkon. His sculpted chest, his peaceful demeanor. And wondered if she would ever see either of them again.
They spent a week wandering the foot hills of nameless distant mountains. They were close when Jun'ai had been forced to kill their guide. They knew the general direction and they assumed they would know it when they saw it.
They assumed wrong.
They came upon a river. A narrow runoff between rocky slopes, chasing itself toward the lowlands. They followed the circuitous path through the hills to a box canyon.
On the far end of the canyon was a waterfall. There was a rope bridge across the chasm. It was in poor condition. Planks missing. Ropes fraying. But it still connected one ridge to the other. Below them, the floor was lost in mist and spray.
Sudara led them across. They went one by one. The weight of the minotaurs was massive, but the bridge held. That was something.
When they reached the far side, they found a gaping maw in the rock face. It was covered with brush and bracken. They had to ask themselves if this was even the entrance they were searching for. This could be the jackal lair, or it could not. It could be the back route, or it could be home to another tribe. Why were there no guards? Would they even know the king when they found him?
Jun'ai wished she had never come.
They crouched at the lip. None sure what to expect. Jun'ai looked around the group. They each looked to the others, measuring their resolve. Jun'ai lit makeshift torches and passed them around.
And then they descended into darkness.
Jun'ai brought up the rear. Ahead of her, the torches bobbed along. Bright flares of light against the deepening blackness of the underworld.
Before them was a network of narrow tunnels. Fissures in the earth. Jagged walls. Irregular footing. Stalactites. Stalagmites. Smoothed with calcium. Glistening with moisture in the flickering torchlight.
Jun'ai imagined they were walking through the remains of some ancient monster, a leviathan from another age. The bones dried, became stone, and then cracked. And now, millennia later, they navigated those marrow cavities.
As they marched, they splashed through water. Cold and shallow and pooled on the floor in the irregular recesses in the stone.
"How deep are we?" That from Toran.
"Deep enough to fall out the bottom of the earth." From Engir.
Then they came to the pottery. Stacks of it lining the walls. Utilitarian vases held in place by rope mesh. It filled each alcove in the stone. Stacks of it choked the tunnel. They had to move it aside to pass. Massive amounts of it. Of all shapes and sizes. Some painted, some glazed, some raw porcelain, some with writing. Some of it came from far distant lands.
Then the narrow passage opened into a vast underground cavern. Small fires flickering like stars below them.
Sudara's hot breath was in her ear. "What do you see?"
Jun'ai focused her gaze on one point. A fire. It was on a ledge beneath their position. She noticed a handful of jackals sitting around the fire. A spit over the flames. She told him as much.
"Are you sure they are jackals?"
She looked again. Confirmed their canine heads and lopping strides.
"Then we have found them."
They spent some time studying the terrain. The chamber consisted of terraced ledges stepping down and away from the ridge they occupied. There was an opening below their position. The main entrance. They must have entered through a side passage. There was another passage at the opposite end, leading to further chambers. No way for them to access it without passing through the gathered tribe.
Sudara gestured. He led them across the ridge. They crawled. Past the lip of the shelf, a thirty foot drop to the next ledge.
They were now in the heart of jackal territory.
Jun'ai felt her heart slam in her chest. Nerves hummed. Hands shook. Body trembled.
She peered over the edge. A risk, but a calculated one.
The jackals languished. Clearly not expecting an attack this deep in their own lair. Some gnawed bones, some warmed themselves by the fire. One was chewing a smoothed river stone, passing it from one side of his mouth to the other, watching the fire.
Suddenly its ears pricked, head turned in their direction.
Jun'ai froze.
It looked in their direction for a long time, as if it had heard something, or could in some way sense the intruders. But at last it looked away and Jun'ai breathed a sigh.
She hurried after the others.
The ridge cut down and away from the gathering chamber. They passed through a fissure, perhaps opened by some long passed earthquake. Then they were able to stand again.
"Creepy," Jun'ai said.
Engir looked at her and nodded.
Some time later they came to a vast chasm, swimming in blackness, too dark to see the bottom, too deep to know if there even was a bottom. An underground waterfall spilled over the ledge to their left. A spray of mist sent goosebumps across her flesh.
A rope bridge crossed the chasm. Moldy. Frayed.
They crossed one at a time, as before. The bridge swayed. It held.
Then another chamber. Torchlight flickered across the surface of a life size statue, casting the features in stark recess. Some ancient warrior. Armed, armored. The writing on the base was worn beyond recognition. He was human.
Behind him was a brick cairn. Cracked. Moss encrusted.
Past the ancient warrior were more tombs. A dozen that she could see, set into the cave wall. Probably more buried deeper in branching passages. This was a mausoleum. Perhaps tombs from the ancient Knossos Empire. Perhaps older yet. Warrior kings from a forgotten age.
At the far end of the chamber there was one statue apart from the rest. It would have been the tallest except that it lay smashed on the floor. The head and upper torso and right arm lay mostly in one piece. There was a crown on his head. Behind him, the cairn wall had collapsed. The tomb had been smashed by a cave-in.
Jun'ai was curious despite herself. She crouched. Held her torch out.
Her breath caught.
"What?" Sudara came beside her.
Jun'ai reached in, past the rusted armor and dried bones and tatters of cloth and drew a sword.
