Grieving Gold by Daniel McDaniel

Author:Daniel McDaniel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endless Equinox
Published: 2023-12-18T12:00:10+00:00

Chapter 22

Hunter and Hunted

The darkness bore down on Aiana like a thick layer of suffocating sludge. Swirling and treacherous, its tides rose high, and its holes sank deep, full of hostility and bitterness. The current of emotions easily washed away the unaware or inexperienced. It was Malevolence-dark, a dark of the deep. Not a good dark for the hunt.

The local pump must be inactive. I need to find it.

She sneaked through the narrow twists of the tunnel, stalking from wall to wall, peeking out at every intersection, a shade prowling in the shadows. Her hair was tied in a tight knot behind her narrow face, not giving her prey an opportunity to seize her. She clenched her steel spear, the token of her success in the first round of the trials. But the true challenge was still ahead.

The shaman’s visions still hung over her, no matter how much she tried to vent them from her head during her long descent. The last picture of the figure standing with their back to her, holding up something divine. It was hard to believe her future could hold that image. Was that me?

She shooed the idea away as she reached a shaft, boring down straight into the earth. She jumped and plummeted under, falling with breakneck speed. It was one of the lucky aspects of her talent — with weight manipulation she could plunge directly down and not depend on the ancient elevators.

Her mushroom-skin bag pressed tightly against her back, scraping the shaft’s narrow walls. Only the essentials, some dried rations, water, a knife, and a length of rope. Every gram of unnecessary weight could bring your doom in the earth’s deep veins.

The bottom drew closer quickly, and she exhaled. Her blood boiled from a shallow wound on her leg. She lost weight at the last moment to soften the power of her landing and thumped down in a crouch.

Aiana went on. Beneath her carefully placed steps, the flesh of the tunnels trembled and distorted — one of the many living corridors that wove through the underworld. Its pulsation had a kind of rhythm to it, a silent song of the deep that Aiana found calming. Not like she needed it. Her nerves were as calm as ever. She had already lost her doubts hours before.

The tides of dark rose again, blurring the potential dangers from her eyes. It didn’t obscure her sight, merely smoothed out the edges and made her mind omit particular details. It eventually would make her reckless, and in the depths reckless meant dead. The flesh beneath her feet transitioned to stone as she neared the end of the tunnel, opening to a cave.

Enormous boulders littered the unusually open space like they were thrown around by careless, gigantic toddlers. From the ceiling, water oozed and fell in little droplets, imitating the fabled rains of the Above. They died in whispering echoes hitting the ground.

Her hand caressed the unmistakable markings on the stone, long scrapes with sharp edges. It is here.

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