Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [65]
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Their path descended almost at once, the ground beneath Amira's feet ranging from steps hewn out of the rock to gravel-strewn sand. The trail wound back and forth, deeper and deeper into the heart of Akhrasut Neth. At times they walked through tunnels low enough that both were forced to crouch, and the green flames from the belkagen's staff lit the path before and behind them a long way. At other times they emerged into caverns so vast the darkness swallowed the light.
Amira expected to hear the chitter of bats or the scuttle of insects, but there was nothing. Save for the shuffling of their feet and the sound of their breath, all was utter silence, a heaviness beyond even sound that weighed upon Amira the farther they went. The beating of her own heart sounded loud in her ears.
They left the biting cold of autumn night behind them and fell into a uniform coolness that did not change through the seasons. The air tasted dry and clean, and the change in it was Amira's first clue that they were approaching something new. Dampness. That's what it was. Amira could smell water in the air.
She and the belkagen descended a flight of stairs in a tight tunnel, then emerged into a cavern, broad beyond the reach of the staff's light but with a low ceiling littered with stalactites. The inverted cones of stone glistened in the green light of the belkagen's flame, and they drip-drip-dripped into a pool that filled all but a sandy strip of dry land before them. If the path continued on the far shore, Amira could not see it, for the far side was beyond the reach of the staff's light.
"From here," said the belkagen, his voice lowered to a reverent whisper, "you must go on alone. I cannot aid you."
"Go on?" said Amira. "Where?"
"Through the water. You can swim?"
"Yes."
"It is not deep, but before you reach the other side, the water will be over your head. On the far shore is an opening to the Heart. You must go alone. What happens there is between you and Hro'nyewachu."
"And if"-Amira took a deep breath-"if something happens to me, if I need your help…?"
"There is no help I can give you, Lady. If Hro'nyewachu takes you, I will honor your memory. But there is nothing I can do to hinder the will of Hro'nyewachu."
Amira considered that. It was not bravery or blind faith that decided her, but simple pragmatism. She knew she was no match for the thing that held Jalan. She knew that without help her best hope would be to get away with her son and spend the rest of her life running, jumping at every shadow, never trusting to a night's rest, and putting everyone who aided her in danger. If there was a way to defeat Jalan's abductors once and for all, if even an inkling of the belkagen's suspicions and counsel were true, she'd be a fool not to try.
"You'll be here when I return?" she said.
"I will."
"How… how am I supposed to take the oracle's gift?" She pointed to the deer carcass. "I can swim well enough, but not carrying that."
"Take it as far as you can. Hro'nyewachu will see to the rest."
Amira wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. No matter. Do or die. Let it be done. She motioned for the belkagen to hand her the deer.
"There is… one thing more," said the belkagen, and Amira could not tell if his tone was solemnity, embarrassment, or both.
"What?"
"You can take nothing with you. Your staff, your spell-book, your dagger, and your, uh… your clothes must remain here."
"I go… naked?"
"The water is not that cold."
"Naked? Why?"
The belkagen lowered his eyes. "It is the way. So it has always been done. So it must be done. You must take with you only your purest essence, no aid beyond body, soul, and spirit."
Amira scowled. It was a trivial thing at which to balk, perhaps, but still…
"I am Vil Adanrath," said the belkagen, "not human, and Lady, I am very old, but if you wish it, I shall turn my back to honor your people's customs of modesty."
Modesty be damned. "Let's get this over