The Doom of Kings_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [92]
“If they’re that old, how come the forest hasn’t swallowed them?”
“Some kind of preservation magic most likely,” said Midian. “There were dashoor before the empire. Sage’s shadow, what I wouldn’t give for a better look at these carvings!” He looked up at Dagii and waved his everbright lantern hopefully.
“No,” Dagii said firmly. He caught Midian’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “I don’t like this. If as many people hunted for the Rod of Kings as the stories say, we can’t possibly be the first to find this place.”
“The stories also say,” Ekhaas said, “that many of those who set out to search for the rod were never seen again. Maybe the stairs have been found before. Maybe the people who found them were among the hunters who didn’t return.”
Geth’s eyes narrowed. “How long do you think the bugbears have been camped above the valley?”
“No more than a generation,” said Chetiin. “Maybe two.”
“There was a place on the rim of the valley that looked like they’d been throwing garbage down. If they’ve been dumping garbage here for that long, shouldn’t we have seen or smelled a heap when we came down?”
Ekhaas looked at the shifter. “Something’s been happening to their garbage?”
“Nothing has happened to their garbage. It’s all still lying around their camp.”
“Sacrifices.” Dagii’s ears, protruding through holes in the helmet that he wore, pulled back flat. “They’ve been feeding something down here.”
“If something has been down here for thousands of years, it doesn’t need to be fed,” said Midian. “On the other hand, it isn’t unknown for one creature to take over another’s abandoned den.” The polished metal baton of his pick was in his free hand. He flicked his wrist and the narrow head flipped out to lock into place. The click it made seemed loud, but there was no echo. The forest consumed it.
“We need to know what’s at the bottom of that pit,” Dagii said. “Chetiin, scout it. We’ll wait in the forest.”
“Mazo.” The goblin turned away.
“Wait,” said Geth. “I’ll come too.”
Chetiin shook his head. “Not this time.” Avoiding the stairs, he took a step down the slope and seemed to vanish into a patch of shadow.
Geth wore an expression of disappointment as Dagii led them away from the edge of the pit and under the thick canopy of the forest once more. Ekhaas moved close to him. “You wouldn’t be able to see down there,” she murmured. “And as stealthy as you can be sometimes, you’re not one of the shaarat’khesh. Let Chetiin do what he came to do.”
“I know,” Geth said. “But I should be doing something more than pointing the way.”
Ashi had her hand back on his shoulder, following his guidance. She gave a low laugh. “Don’t worry, Geth. I’m sure you’ll still have your chance.”
Back among the trees, Geth gave Ashi over to Midian’s care while he checked the straps and buckles of his great gauntlet. Dagii was crouched against the trunk of one of the valley’s shaggy old trees, his eyes darting around at the night. Ekhaas sheathed her sword and crouched beside him. “What do you think is down there?” she asked.
“I don’t know. My mind buckles at the possibilities. Undead. Some creature of Khyber. A dragon? All I can think of are the stories of duur’kala.” Dagii grimaced, exposing his teeth. “Your guess is likely better than mine. The histories of the Kech Volaar say nothing of this place?”
“The Kech Volaar see the greatest glory in the legacy of Dhakaan,” Ekhaas said with a shake of her head. “Tales of the time before the union of the Six Kings are almost as scarce and unreliable as tales of the Desperate Times. Maybe some mention of ancient stairs in the wilderness exists in the archives of Volaar Draal but if it does, I’ve never seen it, and it has never been linked to the legend of the Rod of Kings. The stairs would have been here in the time of Dabrak Riis, though.”
“Assuming they really are pre-Dhakaani.”
Ekhaas’s ears stood up. “You don’t think they are?”
Dagii’s eyes remained on the darkness of the forest. “I’m a soldier, not a duur’kala, Ekhaas. I can’t always accept