Exhausted and mind-weary from too many sleepless nights, too much interrupted sleep, and constant worry or outright fear, when Farmathr reined up and pointed at an unbroken solid wall of rock, I stared at it, thoughts ponderous and jejune.
“It is there,” he said, weariness playing its dirge in his voice. “The way in is tricky.”
“Can we take the horses?” asked Veethar.
“Yes, but you must do as I say without pause, without deviation. There is a spirit that guards the place, and it has the power to drain the life out of you if it believes you intrude.”
“That sounds…” began Jane.
“Ominous,” I finished.
“Indeed,” said Farmathr. “Now, attend me. I will tell you when we have reached safety, but until I do, touch nothing and do not step out of my path.” He glanced at Sig. “Do you hear, boy?”
Sig nodded and took a step closer to Mothi.
“Good. Now, give me a moment…” He turned to face the rocks and did something with his hands as if tracing runes in the air. He might have hummed a musical phrase, but it was difficult to tell over the sound of the wind, the horde at our backs, and the horses.
With a grinding roar, part of the ostensibly solid stone wall in front of us slid inward and up, leaving a space just wide enough for a horse. Farmathr smiled and winked at me before he turned and rode his pale horse into the darkness.
The trolls grunted and hooted—a prelude to an all-out charge—off in the night behind us, and somewhere back there, drums began to pound. Being at Farmathr’s mercy inside this place, this “stronghold” as he called it, gave birth to a flurry of butterflies in my gut. But there was no other choice than to follow Farmathr into the unknown.
We rode in through the opening in the sheer rock face, with Mothi last, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, mechanisms in the darkness that surrounded us whined, and the sliver of light from the outside shrank as the massive door began to close.
The air in the antechamber reeked of hot electronics, dust, and the unmistakable, spicy odor of long decomposed bodies. There was a faint ticking somewhere off in the darkness, but similar to a cooling car engine rather than a clock or a kitchen timer.
“Now, if you’ll follow me into the next chamber…”
“If we could see you, it might be easier to follow you,” snapped Althyof.
In the darkness, Farmathr chuckled. Something crackled as if a green twig had snapped, and an eerie green light flared into existence. It was a glow stick resembling the ones we gave Sig on Halloween. “Follow the green light. Step only where I step.” Farmathr led us on a zig-zagging path across a wide area, which I assumed to be a large room. Giant black shapes loomed at me out of the darkness—machines, or cabinets, or giant stone blocks, I couldn’t tell which. The door to the outside finished the traversal of its track, cutting off the ambient light from outside with a resounding boom that sounded permanent. The only light now came from the glow stick that hung down Farmathr’s back.
“What happens if we stray from your path?” asked Freya.
The glow stick jumped as Farmathr shrugged. “You die.”
“That’s it? No warnings, no questions, merely instant death?”
“I didn’t make the rules,” sighed Farmathr. “I learned them, and I’ve likewise passed them on to you.”
“You’ve led others through this room? You’ve seen others die here?” asked Frikka with a tone of disbelief.
“Well, no. But the rules…”
“Who taught you these rules?” I asked.
“You’ll see in a moment.” The creak of saddle leather preceded a loud click, and a strange hiss filled the air. “No cause for concern,” said Farmathr. Flickering bluish-white light flooded into the room as a door ascended toward the ceiling.
Once there was sufficient room, Farmathr ducked his head and rode through the door into a well-lit room. “In here,” he called. “It’s safe in here.”
We followed him through the tall, narrow doorway. Bright white subway tiles sheathed the walls of the room, but polished natural stone lay under our feet. A long counter—comparable to a reservation desk in an airport back home—lined one side of the room, warped by water at some point, cracked by time and disuse. Behind it, massive black panels stretched toward the ceiling high above, and several doors stood—one pale blue, one orange, and one red. A massive crack zigged and zagged across the face of one panel, and all of them were dark, powerless. The opposite wall contained more red doors, one green door, one orange, and one yellow. Low-slung couches, chairs, and what had once been potted plants filled the space between the two walls without appearing crowded. Far above us, bright white lights burned. Everywhere I looked, surfaces shone and twinkled as though recently polished.
“What is this place?” asked Mothi with wonder in his voice.
“Looks like a subway station to me, Cousin Mouthy,” quipped Sig. He walked over to one of the red doors and tried the knob. “Locked,” he said with a shrug.
“Welcome to Isi’s domain,” said Farmathr. He swung his leg over his horse’s rump and jumped down. The sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed throughout the chamber.
“That’s quite a claim,” I said.
Farmathr shrugged. “Don’t take my word for it,” he said, pointing at something behind me.
I dismounted and turned. Runes decorated the wall between this room and the antechamber. “Behold the power of Isi,” I read. “Greatest of the Sons of Mim, ruler of the land and everything underneath it. Through his auspices, the Fast Track Travel Network was established under Osgarthr’s skin. Isi welcomes you. The FTTN welcomes you. All praise be to Isi.”
“We can rest here,” said Farmathr. “These couches are much more comfortable than they look.”
“What is the Fast Track Travel Network?” asked Meuhlnir. “Some kind of proo?”
Farmathr chuckled, but not unkindly. “No, not a proo. I’ll show it to you after we’ve rested. I haven’t slept in days.”
“Okay. I’ll stand the first watch,” I said.
Farmathr laughed again. “No need for watches or guards here. There are no threats inside this place, nor can there be.”
“How can you be so sure?” asked Veethar, eyes darting around the big space.
“It’s simple. The guardians of this place have accepted you because I knew the proper incantations. The guardians would have killed off any threats long ago. No enemies exist in this underground realm.”
“How can you be sure?” demanded Frikka. “What would stop an enemy from knowing the proper incantations and entering earlier to lie in wait?”
“The guardians wouldn’t allow it.” Farmathr shrugged. “Set a watch if it makes you more comfortable, but it is a waste of time and effort.”
“Is there wood?” asked Yowrnsaxa. “We haven’t had a hot supper for days and days.”
Farmathr shook his head. “No wood. The guardians will not allow open flame inside the stronghold in any case.”
“Another cold supper,” grumbled Yowrnsaxa. “Wonderful.”
“Nothing for me,” said Farmathr. “I have already eaten.” He turned and walked away from us and fell onto one of the low-slung couches.