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THEY HURRIED ON. THE first part of the path was familiar to Dun and Padg, so they hadn’t yet un-slung their traveling sticks to check the way in front of them. Usually most folk relied on air-sense in these circumstances, allowing their hairs to feel the volume of air and give them a clue of what was coming immediately ahead. It would tell of a rapidly approaching large object—a wall or a person, for example—or it would tell of the feeling of moving from an enclosed space into a large cavern. However for traveling, given the amount of stopping and sensing the air that would be required, air-sense was relegated in favor of a good stick. With this as a tool, much faster progress could be made in unfamiliar terrain without coming unstuck in the endless tunnels, random pipes, cables, and pits.
While still in their own territory, they kept up a good pace. The map told them that the path by the side of the river ran on for some time, so they took up a jaunty pace at Padg’s insistence. His thinking being that any time they gained now would allow their supplies to sustain them in the event of uncertainty. It also afforded them distance from the noises in the village.
“Hold on you two,” Dun called from up front where he’d made a slight lead on his friends. “I think we’ve just run out of pathway.”
It was true. The metal walkway that had been their companion from the village had tapered away to nothing in the wall beside them.
“Dig me out a traveling stick, Padg. I want to test this water.”
Padg obliged, grumbling slightly that it was his traveling stick and not Dun’s own that was about to get wet. Dun ignored the low key protests and proceeded to dip the slim staff in the water. He pulled it out and felt the wetness along it until he made a resigned grunt.
“Okay. In we go.”
“What?” Padg and Tali shouted in unison.
“In the river,” Dun said baldly.
“It’s...err...quite deep here,” Padg said.
“We’ll freeze,” Tali cried.
“Oh well,” Padg said cheerfully. “At least we won’t feel it when we drown.”
“Unless you two have any better ideas; this is as far as the path goes. We go on. The river seems like our only option to me.”
“What about all our kit?” Padg chipped in.
“We’ll carry our packs on our heads for now. If any of us get tired, another can take a stint with their pack to rest them and so on.”
Padg wasn’t sure he liked this new bold leadership side to his friend, but he couldn’t help grudgingly agreeing that it was probably, at this point, their only course of action.
“Okay. In it is.”
They tied onto their packs all the things from pouches and pockets that would suffer from getting wet, and with a slight squeak from Tali, lowered themselves into the stream. The water at this point came to just above their knees. It was cold.
***
“HOW MUCH FARTHER, DUN?” Tali tried to hide the whine in her voice but failed to hide the fatigue.
The constant sloshing gait they’d had to adopt to make progress through the pipe had been taking its toll. The three packs—at Padg’s suggestion—were now all tied in a row atop two of the traveling sticks, held above the water between two of them. That way each of them could take turns resting more easily. The resting one of the trio, Tali, searched the tunnel walls to check if there were any crossing tunnels or pipes, even a small ledge for them to rest on. In half a span there had been none.
“I’m not sure. The scale on the map isn’t really clear. We’re right in River-folk territory, but that’s about all I can tell you.”
“There must be side tunnels somewhere for them to get in and out of the river. They can’t live in the water all the time,” Padg said.
“Could be hatches that they close from the inside,” Dun replied. “No one really knows since they keep to themselves so much.”
“Have you noticed the fish?” Padg said.
“The lack of them?”
“Yeah.”
“I had. Not one since we’ve been down here.”
“Oh well,” Padg said. “At least you can be assured its not your lousy fishing technique.”
Dun and Tali both snorted. On balance, there were few folk that Dun would rather be up to his knees in a cold river with than his best friend, but even Padg’s stoic cheer wasn’t going to save them from freezing if they didn’t find a way out of the water soon.
“Wait!” Tali shouted from up front.
“What?” Dun hissed back.
“Shh...not sure. There’s something here, a rope or—”
Then came a sharp twang and a creaking of rope and they all flew together in a melee of arms and legs. Across his back, Dun could feel a mesh of ropes and squashed against his legs, Padg. Dun’s face was pressed into Tali’s back. The silence of their shock was punctuated by a creaking noise, like some kind of rope animal’s breathing and, in the distance, a faint metallic tinkling. They swung and twisted gently.
“What the...?” Dun said.
“A trap,’ Padg said. “A net or something, triggered as we walked across it.”
“I was so stupid,” Dun said. “I should have felt it under us.”
“Don’t punish yourself,” Padg said. “We were distracted, besides, I think they’d disguised it. The pipe floor felt flat to me.”
“Who do you think they are?” Tali said.
“Pardon?” Padg asked.
“You said they, who do you think...”
“Well, well, well. What kind of strange fishes do you think we’ve caught here, then?” A harsh, grating voice cut through them, accompanied by a waft of an odd resiny scent.
“I think, Tali,” Padg said, “we’re about to find out.”
