Red Magic - Jean Rabe [132]
The druid, however, was becoming accustomed to the meager light, and he concentrated on his surroundings. From somewhere ahead, he heard the sounds of metal striking against rock-miners with picks, perhaps. Because the noise echoed through the shaft, it was impossible for Galvin to guess how far away the miners might be.
Wynter glanced about nervously, wondering why they hadn't met with any resistance since entering the mines. "There should be guards in this shaft," he whispered. "This is too easy, Galvin."
"Perhaps," the druid replied. He slowed and studied the tunnel. Galvin guessed they were about two hundred yards into the mountain. The shaft ahead straightened out and was angling downward. The tunnel was supported by massive oak beams, some reinforced where the wood had splintered. The druid eyed the construction, noting that the mine was of considerable age and this main shaft had been mined out decades ago. After traveling another hundred yards over rock worn smooth by human traffic, he raised his hand signaling the undead to stop. He wanted to listen to the sounds of the miners ahead and try to determine if anything else was in the tunnel. The druid was certain that Wynter was right-the mine had more defenses than what they had encountered on the plateau.
Scanning ahead, he spotted unnatural, thumb-sized crystals embedded in the shaft's walls at roughly waist height. They started at about the point the torches stopped. Farther down the shaft, the torches started again. Perhaps its some sort of magic, he thought, staring at the closest crystal. He started to stoop beneath the crystal when Brenna's arm shot out, grabbing him.
"It's a ward of some kind," she said.
"So we go under it. The miners go through here somehow."
"No," she stated simply. "Passing beyond a ward, a magical guard, triggers it. If you speak the right words, the ward lets you by."
"And if you don't have the right words?"
Brenna frowned. "The ward could kill you."
Galvin studied her features amid the shadows. "Is there any way we can learn the words?"
"Of course not," the enchantress replied, pursing her lips. "At least, not in the time we have. But…" She stared at the crystals for several long moments, then reached toward the druid and pulled his longsword from its sheath.
"What is it?" the druid started. But a motion from Brenna kept him quiet.
She extended the tip of the sword toward the crystal, then past the crystal. Nothing happened. Handing the sword back to the druid, she stretched out her hand. As it neared the ward the crystal began to glow and she heard a soft hum. Snatching her hand back, she turned to Galvin and smiled.
"It senses heat. I can get around this, but it will be uncomfortable."
The druid nodded and gestured with his hand, waiting to see what Brenna would do. The enchantress began mumbling something, the words coming so quickly the druid couldn't make them out. As her voice rose, the air grew chill. And when she extended her hands, pointing away from her and down the shaft, frost leapt from her fingertips and headed down the tunnel with a whoosh, coating the walls, floor, and ceiling.
"Let's hurry," she urged, sliding forward toward the torches beyond the crystals.
Shivering, the druid quickly followed, but Wynter had a difficult time navigating the ice-coated floor. By the time the centaur managed to make it to the end of the frost, it had started to melt.
"The undead!" Brenna cried. "The crystals will-"
Galvin interrupted, gently grasping her shoulders. "The undead don't give off heat, Brenna. The dead are cold."
She slumped her shoulders, feeling foolish yet relieved, and continued at Galvin's side down the shaft. They trodded downward for a hundred yards. As the torches became farther and farther apart, the shadows grew thicker, and the druid grabbed a torch from the wall so they could see better.
Ahead were a series of crosscuts, tunnels that had been dug off the main shaft. Some of those