He chuckled. “Relying too heavily on magic alone is foolish. That was a lesson quickly learned in a world where powerful wards and spells can easily strip a mage of their power. My father insisted on me becoming a master of the sword and hand-to-hand combat. I could best every man in his guard by the time I was fifteen. You will be well protected. You have my word.”
Kat sniffed and drew her dagger. “I lived on my own in the streets of Miltino from the age of nine. I don’t need protecting.”
He laughed again. “I am sorry for my presumption. Sometimes I forget the troubled life you once led.”
“Once led?” she mocked, though only light-heartedly. “Things may be different now that I’m older, but they sure as hell aren’t any easier.”
He was pleased that she had not persisted over him relinquishing control on Ethan’s body. Though Ethan was not to be underestimated - after all, he had been a soldier – his own training was far more extensive. And his skill with a blade unparalleled. He had seen the memories in Ethan’s mind of the war in which he had fought. That he had survived a single day was a testament to his courage. There was no doubt that, with his own make of weapons, the young man was deadly. But Markus had only just begun teaching him the art of weapons used in Lumnia. And those required a completely different set of abilities.
A few yards further on, he could feel the very last vestiges of his magic draining away. “It will take some time yet for our eyes to adjust,” he told Kat. “We must be cautious.”
To his considerable surprise, she pushed her way past. “I can see fine. Just stay close.”
For a moment Martok felt almost humbled with her taking the lead. But this was quickly banished when she took hold of his hand and pulled him firmly along. “Lead on then,” he said.
The floor of the passage was smooth and had obviously been crafted. For all that, it dipped and turned sharply several times, and it was only Kat’s steadying hold that prevented him from stumbling. Even after his eyes did finally adjust and he could see well enough, the rapid pace she was setting prevented him from moving back ahead of her.
The passage wound on for more than a mile, sloping down for short distances and then leveling out again. Though Martok was by no means helpless, the absence of magic was growing increasingly unsettling for him. It brought back too many bad memories. Memories that, if he could, he would banish forever.
“Just how deep does this damn place go?” muttered Kat after a time. “And how do you know about this thing we're looking for anyway? This dwarf device, crystal, or whatever.”
“The elves brought it here after I was killed. When Ethan bonded with them I was able to see small flashes of the knowledge they share. I knew then it was hidden in the Dragon Wastes, but not precisely where.”
Kat opened her mouth to ask another question, then hesitated as a low rumble echoed from ahead. Both of them remained absolutely still while listening. The rumble continued for more than a minute before fading away.
“It's probably nothing,” Martok said. “The deep places of the world often growl their displeasure.”
“So long as it just growls, I’m fine.”
After another half mile they came to some steps leading further down. At this point, the walls of the passage became peppered with tiny blue stones that glowed dimly. These looked similar to rajni stones, though with a slightly different hue. Kat paused to admire them for a few seconds, but seeing the urgency in Martok’s eyes, quickly started out again.
The steps must have taken them more than a hundred feet further down before eventually leading into a fifty-foot square chamber. Here, the air instantly became much cooler and more humid. The low ceiling and walls with naught but the blue stones set within them gave no indication of the room’s purpose. The only thing of interest was at the far end where a narrow slit in the wall appeared just large enough to squeeze through.
As they approached this they could hear the sound of rushing water. Martok peered through the opening and saw that the walls on the other side opened up into a massive cavern, the ground of which was covered in a thick moss. The glimmer of a fast moving stream split the cavern in two, its reflection sending tiny rays of blue light dancing on the crystal covered walls and ceiling.
He sniffed the air. The dank smell of rotting vegetation and muck mixed with a sour, unidentifiable odor. “Wait here,” he instructed Kat, then quickly added: “Please. We cannot afford to risk both of us getting hurt.”
Reluctantly, she nodded her agreement. “Stay where I can see you,” she told him.
Martok smiled. “I will.”
After wriggling through, he found the moss was even thicker than it appeared: his boots sinking down more than two inches as they stepped onto it. A few twisted bushes were growing on the left side, though he was not able to identify them. To the right were several low mounds of earth scattered about. The shallow stream entered the cavern through a narrow horizontal slit and then ran over a bed of similar blue crystals to those embedded in the walls. On the far side, the water vanished through a gap yet to be inspected. Were it not for the unpleasant odor, which by now was growing steadily stronger, he would have found this place to be quite pleasing.
Martok glanced over his shoulder to see Kat watching him intently through the crevice. Kneeling by the stream, he dipped the tip of his finger into the clear water. It was ice cold. A sudden, almost inexplicable thirst prompted him into tentatively sucking his finger. There was nothing sweet about the water's taste as he imagined there might be, but there was nothing unpleasant attached to it either. Strangely though, his thirst had abated as quickly as it had arrived. A smile formed. A mere thimble full of this could last a traveler in the desert for weeks.
He stood and walked over to the bushes. Three-inch long leaves blanketed each plant from top to bottom. Seeing them grow in this strange environment, Martok wondered as to the properties such a thing might hold. His cousin had studied herbs and potions – much to the dismay of his parents who had regarded such pursuits as beneath his station. And though magic was undoubtedly a better, more effective way to heal, potions and salves did have their uses. Especially for the common people who might easily find themselves in a place where a healer was not available. However, something told Martok that these plants would not hold such properties. Most likely they were poisonous. Though even poisons had their uses on occasions.
Aside from the bushes there was nothing else of any interest in this area, so his attention quickly switched to the other side. The stream was only a few feet wide and shallow enough to walk across. The only inconvenience was getting his feet wet; without magic he would be forced to walk in wet boots until they were once again outside.
Having made the crossing, the smell of decay coming from the mounds became noticeably stronger. By the time he actually reached them he found himself covering his nose with his sleeve - though this was doing very little to help.
He moved on to the rear wall and inspected this several times. There was nothing unusual, and no other opening leading further on apart from where the stream exited. Crouching low to glance through this gap, he saw what resembled a miniature waterfall as the water plunged vertically to unknown depths.
“Have you found something?” Kat called out.
“Not yet,” he replied, rising upright again.
She threaded her way through the opening to join him. “Are you sure it’s somewhere in here?”
“As sure as I
can
be. Unless someone has already retrieved it. But they would have to know where to look. And only the elves know of its location.”
“Could they have come back for it?”
Martok shook his head. “I doubt it. It's not a thing they would have wanted to possess.”
The pair of them spent the next thirty minutes wandering about the cavern, searching hard for anything that might provide a clue. Neither found a thing.
Kat plopped down near the entrance and threw up her hands. “So what now?”
Martok was standing atop one of the mounds, a hand placed protectively over his nose. “It must be here,” he told her. “I just need to look properly.”
At that moment, the ground began to vibrate and a low hum filled the cavern. Kat instantly sprang to her feet, dagger in hand. Martok raced over to her side, sword drawn.
“You have returned to me, Martok Dragonvein. I am most pleased.” The loud voice that could have been either a man or a woman seemed to come from all directions at once.
Kat looked to Martok, but he said nothing.
“And you have brought someone new to keep me company.”
“Show yourself,” Martok demanded.
A thin haze began seeping up through the moss just a few feet in front of them. “As you wish, my love.” The voice had now taken on a distinctly female quality.
“Who are you?” Martok asked, wrapping a protective arm around Kat's shoulders.
“Don’t you recognize me?” The haze gradually began to resemble a human form. “I always knew you would return to me, Martok. Your ambition made it inevitable. Though how you have managed it, I can only guess. But I never doubted for a moment that you would find a way eventually.”
“Who is she?” Kat asked in a half-whisper.
Martok took a pace forward, placing himself between Kat and the unidentified shape. “I ask you again, spirit: Who are you?”
“Oh, how you watch over the pretty one,” the spirit remarked in an amused tone. “Is she your new love? Or just a distraction? Have you destroyed her life as you did mine?”
Martok caught his breath. “Miriam.”
“You sound surprised to see me.”
Kat touched Martok’s shoulder. “Who is Miriam?”
He drew a deep breath before replying. “My wife.”
“Your wife!”
“Yes. Or at least, what is left of her.”
“Yes indeed,” said Miriam. “All that remains of me is this ghostly form. Trapped forever by your deceit and wickedness.”
“It was
you
who betrayed
me
,” Martok snapped back. “I did
nothing
to you. However, you came to this pass, it was
not
my doing.”
“Truly?” she scoffed, malice dripping from her voice. “Was it not you who befriended the elves? Was it not you who ordered them to take my life and contain my spirit?”
“I did befriend the elves,” he agreed. “But I never ordered them to harm you. How could I? I was already dead.”
Miriam was silent for several seconds before speaking again. “That is not true. No. It was
you
.
You
did this to me. It had to be.” Her voice was becoming shrill with madness. “They cut out my heart while I begged for them to spare me. And it was your name on their lips as they watched me die.”
Martok stiffened. “I had no knowledge of this. I would never have wanted them to harm you. Even after what you did to me…I still loved you.”
“Liar! It was you! And now you come here thinking to cause me more pain? You think I do not see through you?”
Martok held out his hand. “I came only to retrieve the dwarf crystal the elves hid here. I did not know about you…or any of this. I swear it.”
“What is she talking about?” asked Kat.
“She speaks of events that happened long ago,” he replied over his shoulder. “Things I would rather forget.” He turned his attention back to Miriam. “Whatever you might think of me, I need to find the crystal. Lumnia is –”
“Dying,” Miriam cut in. “Yes. I know. Nothing can stop it. Not even you…my love. And for this, I am happy.”
“I
must
have the crystal,” Martok pressed on. “If you will not help me –”
“You will have
nothing
!” she screamed, her voice reverberating off the cavern walls. “Nothing! Do you hear me?
Nothing
!”
Miriam's form began to swirl and break apart. At the same time, off to the right, Martok caught movement from the corner of his eye. From the top of one of the mounds, a pair of hands were clawing their way out. Kat saw them as well.
“Kroma,” Martok hissed.
“What?” Kat gasped.
“The dead arisen,” he explained. “Brought back to life by foul magic.” He turned to face her. “You need to get out now. You cannot fight this with naught but a dagger.”
“What about you?”
Martok grinned viciously. “I will be fine. These unclean devils are no match for me.”
Kat glanced back over to the mounds. A head wrapped in grotesquely decayed flesh was now poking its way out, and three more were starting to emerge from other mounds.
“This is no time to argue,” he snapped, his tone steel. “For once, do as I say.”
She glared at him with clear disapproval. “You had better not get yourself killed,” she grumbled loudly before setting off back to the entrance.
Martok was quick to note that she said not to get
yourself
killed. There was no mention of Ethan. But there was also no time to revel in this perceived little victory. By now, the first of the kroma was already making its way toward him with a slow yet steady stride. Rags that were once its clothing hung loosely from its decomposing body, and in its right hand dangled a rusted blade.