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Jon-Tom ignored this as he moved curiously to his left. Mudge
looked back into the woods, then at his companion.
 Are you daft, lad? Wot is it you re  untin for?
 Don t you feel it?
 Feel wot?
 Something our friends are likely to overlook. He was pushing
leaves and branches aside now, let out an exclamation of satisfaction when he
found what he was looking for.
A cool, slightly damp breeze emerged from beneath a rocky ledge.
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 There s got to be a cave down there. Pretty big one, too, judging
from the strength of the wind coming out. Maybe we can t lose them up here,
but I think they ll be less likely to come looking for us below, even if
they re lucky enough to find this opening. He started scanning the forest
floor.  Find something we can make torches out of.
There was plenty of dried moss. Wrapped around branches, these
made serviceable faggots.
 How do we light them? Weegee had already searched her clothing.
 I don t have any flints with me. Can you sing a fire spell?
 No, but I ve got these. He fumbled in his pack. Sure enough, he
had four matches left of the box he d been carrying when Clothahump had first
yanked him into this world. Saying a silent prayer, he struck the first
alight. He was greatly relieved when the moss on the first torch caught
instantly.
Weegee was wide-eyed.  If not magic, what do you call that?
 Matches. I ll explain later. He touched the lit torch to the
others.  Come on. If I fit, everyone ll fit.
Cautious stepped in front of him.  My eyes are better in the dark
than anyone else s here, you bet. I go first. You follow, Jon-Tom, stay close
to my tail. Maybe if I fall in big hole, you got something to grab. If not, I
warn you before I bounce. He grinned, clapped the man on the shoulder, then
turned and ducked lithely beneath the ledge. Jon-Tom followed as Mudge and
Weegee brought up the rear.
The cave sloped steadily downward, a claustrophobic tube. Jon-Tom
began to wonder if this had been such a bright idea. His palms were rubbing
raw on the slick, unyielding limestone.
Without warning the ceiling rose and everyone was able to stand.
Torches revealed a graveled path leading steadily onward.
Weegee surveyed the dark tunnel ahead.  Isn t this far enough? I m
not very fond of deep places.
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 Are you fond o bein slowly skinned alive? Mudge nodded back
the way they d come.  If they do find the openin they re liable to hear our
voices or see the light from these torches. The farther we go the safer we ll
be.
Cautious had advanced several yards in front of his companions.
 Opens up more, I think.
 Let s go on. Jon-Tom followed the raccoon. He d always liked
caves.
Roughly a hundred feet beneath the forested surface the floor of
the tunnel leveled out and their torches illuminated a subterranean world of
baroque loveliness. Except for rock that had fallen from the ceiling the
surface they were walking on was smooth and firm, having been scoured clean
ages ago by a now vanished underground river. Water dripped from stalactites
into shallow rimstone pools.
 A live cave. Jon-Tom held his torch close to one pristine
limestone soda straw.  Still growing.
 Strange places, caves. Tis better to stay out of  em. Mudge was
studying the floor, looking for tracks.  One never knows wot sort o evil
spirits lurk in their depths. O course in this case, we already know the
nature o the evil spirits lurkin about above.
The torches were holding out well, burning slowly and steadily,
and the extensive winding chamber showed no sign of diminishing in size.
Jon-Tom allowed Cautious to lead on. The farther they got from Sasheem and
Kamaulk and the rest of their murderous ilk the safer he d feel. Eventually
they d find a convenient stopping place, extinguish all of their torches, and
rest.
Unless they discovered the entrance to the cavern the pirates
would have to give up. Not even Sasheem and Kamaulk s exhortations could keep
the crew roaming a trackless forest for days on end. Even if they did discover
the cavity beneath the ledge they probably wouldn t enter, since the brigands
tended to be more superstitious even than Mudge. Eventually the practical
Kamaulk would have to admit he d been outwitted again. His crew would mollify
him by assuring him it was no crime to be fooled by a magician.
The beauty surrounding them tended to take their minds off their
distant pursuers. A cluster of stalagmites rose fifteen feet from the floor,
gleaming beneath their coats of pure white calcite. Frozen flowstone waves
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clung like draperies from the walls and gave off charming musical tones when
Mudge tapped them with his claws. Iron oxide stained several draperies, giving
them the appearance of huge slabs of bacon. Miniature travertine dams held
back the drip water.
Long thin stalactites called soda straws hung from the ceiling,
each with its bead of lime-saturated water dangling from the tip. One chamber
was filled with helictites, twisted stalagtites that grew every which way in
defiance of gravity. There were cave pearls and fried eggs and a whole
phantasmagoria of wondrous speleotherms to admire. Jon-Tom identified
stalactites and stalagmites that had grown together over the eons to form
columns, tiny pale troglodytes that had to be cave crickets, long snaky
wires....
Long snaky wires?
Hands shaking, he bent over and held his torch close to the
motionless cable. The insulation was frayed and disintegrating but there was
no mistaking what it was.
Weegee leaned over his shoulder, her musk strong in the still air
of the cavern.  What the devil is it? Ignoring her, he began tracing the
cable along the ground. She looked over at Mudge.  What s wrong? Why doesn t
he answer?
Mudge bent low over the frayed cable, plucked a bit of torn
insulation and smelled of it. His eyes were on his tall friend s back.  I ve
an idea.  Tis insane, but no more insane than many things *e an* I  ave
encountered in our travels together. Whether it bodes good or ill only the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]