Chapter 5: Into the Caves of Darkness

Again Garin stood before the jade throne of Trar and heard the stirring of the multitude of the Folk in the shadows. Trar was turning a small rod of glittering, greenish metal around in his soft hands.

“Listen well, outlander,” he began, “for little time remains to us. Within seven days the Great Mists will be upon us. Then no living thing may venture forth from shelter and escape death. And before that time Thrala must be out of the Caves. This rod will be your weapon; the Black Ones have not its secret. Watch.”

Two of the Folk dragged an ingot of metal before him. He touched it with the rod. Great flakes of rust appeared to spread across the entire surface. It crumpled away and one of the Folk trod upon the pile of dust where it had been.

“Thrala lies in the heart of the Caves but Kepta’s men have grown careless with the years. Enter boldly and trust to fortune. They know nothing of your coming or of Thran’s words concerning you.”

Urg stood forward and held out his hands in appeal.

“What would you, Urg?”

“Lord, I would go with the outlander. He knows nothing of the Forest of the Morgels or of the Pool of Mud. It is easy to go astray in the woodland--”

Trar shook his head. “That may not be. He must go alone, even as Thran said.”

The Ana, which had followed in Garin’s shadow all day, whistled shrilly and stood on tiptoe to tug at his hand. Trar smiled. “That one may go, its eyes may serve you well. Urg will guide you to the outer portal of the Place of Ancestors and set you upon the road to the Caves. Farewell, outlander, and may the spirits of the Ancient Ones be with you.”

Garin bowed to the ruler of the Folk and turned to follow Urg. Near the door stood a small group of women. Sera pressed forward from them, holding out a small bag.

“Outlander,” she said hurriedly, “when you look upon the Daughter speak to her of Sera, for I have awaited her many years.”

He smiled. “That I will.”

“If you remember, outlander. I am a great lady among the Folk and have my share of suitors, yet I think I could envy the Daughter. Nay, I shall not explain that,” she laughed mockingly. “You will understand in due time. Here is a packet of food. Now go swiftly that we may have you among us again before the Mists.”

So a woman’s farewell sped them on their way. Urg chose a ramp which led downward. At its foot was a niche in the rock, above which a rose light burned dimly. Urg reached within the hollow and drew out a pair of high buskins which he aided Garin to lace on. They were a good fit, having been fashioned for a man of the Ancient Ones.

The passage before them was narrow and crooked. There was a thick carpet of dust underfoot, patterned by the prints of the Folk. They rounded a corner and a tall door loomed out of the gloom. Urg pressed the surface, there was a click and the stone rolled back.

[Illustration: With the Ana perched on his shoulder and the green rod of destruction in his hand, Garin strode into the gloom of Tav--pledged to bring the Daughter out of the Caves of Darkness... ]

“This is the Place of Ancestors,” he announced as he stepped within.

They were at the end of a colossal hall whose domed roof disappeared into shadows. Thick pillars of gleaming crystal divided it into aisles, all leading inward to a raised dais of oval shape. Filling the aisles were couches and each soft nest held its sleeper. Near to the door lay the men and women of the Folk, but closer to the dais were the Ancient Ones. Here and there a couch bore a double burden, upon the shoulder of a man was pillowed the drooping head of a woman. Urg stopped beside such a one.

“See, outlander, here was one who was called from your world. Marena of the House of Light looked with favor upon him and their days of happiness were many.”

The man on the couch had red-gold hair and on his upper arm was a heavy band of gold whose mate Garin had once seen in a museum. A son of pre-Norman Ireland. Urg traced with a crooked finger the archaic lettering carved upon the stone base of the couch.

“Lovers in the Light sleep sweetly. The Light returns on the appointed day.”