to its capacity, we tasked VELMA to direct it back to the havabuthe. Its payload was too valuable to risk altercations with the undermountain passage inhabitants as the rest of us trekked to the Holy Waters of Shegoshel.
There was danger enough ahead that acid churned in my gut at the thought of taking my mate farther into the undermountain.
As it was, we stood as a group before entering the Narrows that would lead us to the Black Mist Chamber.
“VELMA,” I said as I addressed the group. “There is great likelihood that we will be unable to communicate with you or utilize your machinations within our helmets once we reach the Black Mist Chamber.”
“Understood,” she said. “I’m downloading the most recent data collected from the transospheric nanosatellite array as well as other pertinent information into your helmets.”
“It will save time if we don climbing gear and equipment now,” I said. “The first tunnel is narrow; Hivelt will doubtless carve parts of it into a new shape with his passing.”
Hivelt sent me a rude gesture adapted from the humans, and we smiled, though none of us could summon a true laugh.
“There are pitfalls and crevasses we must traverse, and the last leg drops into Black Mist,” I said. “Named for its thick atmosphere and lack of light, the technology will not function upon our entrance and may be unreliable until we return here.”
“Are there creatures you haven’t told us about yet?” CeCe asked, her hands poised at her hips, and I had a moment of want so pure, it felt like I swayed toward her.
Glancing at my hunter brothers, I could guess at their expressions based upon my own, though we all wore our helmets. When CeCe folded her arms, I cracked my neck.
“You already know of the ikadaxl and the laveltkal,” I said as I described the creatures the humans called dragons and the pointy-nosed cave mammals, and the humans nodded. I noticed the other females had also folded their arms. “And the agothe-faxl will, of a season, venture this far into the mountains.”
CeCe’s chin jutted but before she could speak, I raised a hand.
“It is not easy to divulge the secrets of the planet,” I said. “And we know better than anyone that your courage and strength are not in question. That is not it.”
“The rock worm prefers meat after all,” Amity said. “Is that it?”
“We cannot tell you because we do not know,” Hivelt said, and the tension in my shoulders released.
“I interviewed many old hunters,” I said, and at the lowering of my voice, everyone stepped closer as if to gather comfort from one another. “At first, I attributed the tales to fragmenting memories or the feebleness of old age. But after every conversation with those that survived the quest, I could not ignore them.”
Joan stepped into Raxkarax’s outstretched arm, and I noted the other women likewise stood closer to their heart mates. When I met CeCe’s steady helmet, unsure of her expression, she unfolded her arms, widened her stance and rested a hand on her sword’s hilt while letting the other hand rest jovelts from her human weapon she called her firearm. Her strength bled through the invisible bond that tied us together, and I rallied, gratitude a blazing hearth fire in my chest for the bold woman I would call my mate.
“The old hunters spoke of phantoms in the Black Mist Chamber,” I said. “The voices of the past or visions of a future unknown. Their bodies were jostled. Their weapons misplaced or lost. Fey winds tormented them, and nightmares besieged their minds, though they didn’t sleep. None saw the enemy; there was naught to battle, though they tried.”
“I’ve heard tales but thought them riddled with fantastical details meant to scare our young around festival night fires,” Naraxthel said.
“I thought the same,” I said.
“Is there a common thread among those who survived?” Pattee asked.
“Those that survived said their hands were empty of weapons when they breached the Chamber’s walls,” I said. “They often ended the interview at this point in their narrative. When pressed for details, I was met with stony silence.”
Much like my company when I finished speaking.
“I don’t blame you for withholding that,” CeCe said. “We’re scientists and engineers. Not likely to take stock in these accounts. But none of you has lied to us.”
I shook my head and noted my brothers did the same.
“Were there any groups of survivors?” Esra asked.
“Nay,” I said. “All survived alone.”
“But did they travel alone?” Amity asked.
“In most cases, yes,” I said. I leveled my gaze at CeCe’s helmet visor. “But in every case where there were groups, only one survived.”