The Third Apprentice (18 page)

“My duty is fulfilled,” it said, its voice seeming
to shrink inside the cave. “I have done as I was bidden, and now I leave you.”

Before their eyes, the bones collapsed into a
heap, sending up a small cloud of dust. The vast cavern spread out before them,
and it seemed there were a million different routes to take. They did not know
the location of their final destination.

“How could he have fulfilled his duty?” Taren
asked in frustration. “We still don’t know where the sorceress rests.”

“I think we do,” Zamna replied, pointing into the
distance. All of the bridges converged at a single point ahead. An expansive
plateau stretched itself beneath an unseen light source. Upon this plateau
rested a circular dais with a rectangular-shaped stone at the center of it.

“Ailwen’s tomb,” Taren whispered, his eyes fixed
on the sarcophagus. All that remained was to cross the bridges and make their
way to the dais. It was only a matter of steps before he reached the symbol.

Z
amna stepped
onto the bridge first, followed closely by Taren. The planks beneath their feet
swayed slightly under their weight but held fast. Despite their advanced age,
the planks appeared to be in excellent condition. Pools of sulfur bubbled
beneath them, releasing clouds of foul-smelling gas into the air. The travelers
paid it no heed. Zamna’s mind focused on moving forward in hopes of finding
treasure. His head turned in response to anything that glittered. Sadly, all he
saw were traces of minerals shining under the magical light of the cavern.

Stepping up onto the plateau, they realized what
they had seen from a distance had actually been a series of plateaus. There
were several of them to be crossed before they reached the one that supported
the sarcophagus. Each plateau along the way was graced by a series of statues,
all depicting the same woman.

Stepping close to the first statue, Zamna asked,
“Is this Ailwen?”

Taren did not know. “I have never seen a likeness
of her,” he admitted.

The glistening white-stone statue depicted a
female in a flowing gown, her hands poised to cast a spell. Her face showed
determination, her angular features displaying her beauty. Flowing freely on a
permanent breeze, her chiseled strands of hair drifted more than a foot away
from the statue.

To Zamna’s disappointment, there were no jewels or
other adornments on the statue. The figure did not interest him in the
slightest. “Let’s keep moving,” he suggested.

Looking down from the next bridge revealed a deep
chasm beneath them. Steam rose from the void below, but the pools of sulfur
could not be seen.

“It’s a long way down,” Taren whispered, gripping
tightly to the ropes at each side of the bridge.

Zamna, sure-footed as always, pressed on without
looking down. The second plateau was home to two statues that faced opposite
directions. Taren took a moment to observe them as well. They appeared to be
the same woman, her hands outstretched as if casting magic throughout the vast
cavern.

“She must have truly enjoyed looking at herself,”
Taren commented, smiling.

“Too bad she didn’t enjoy gold or gems,” Zamna
muttered. So far he had found only a single sapphire, and that would not be
enough to allow him to retire. The cavern appeared bare, with no signs of any
fortune to be had. Frustrated, he marched on to the third plateau.

The statue that greeted the travelers showed a
sorceress with her staff raised high, her flowing robe billowing on an unseen
breeze. Frozen for eternity, she lifted her staff in defiance of her enemies,
casting them down with her immense power. Taren stood in amazement, staring at
the intense features displayed on the statue’s face. Such concentration and
strength, and absolute resolve, was almost intimidating. Though it was
completely inanimate, he could feel the power radiating from the sculpted rock.
Running his hand along its smooth surface, he was surprised to find that the
stone was warm. The air inside the cavern was also warm, but for some reason he
had expected the stone to feel cold. Its warmth only added to the awe he felt
while gazing at it.

Zamna stepped forward, crossing his arms. “Excuse
me,” he said. “I hate to break this up, but we have a mission to complete.”

Taren nodded, pulling his hand away from the
statue. Crossing a final swinging bridge, they came at last to the fourth
plateau, where the sarcophagus lay illuminated beneath an unseen light source.
Zamna scanned the area for any sign of riches. No chests, no coffers, no piles
of jewels or gems. There was nothing here for him. The tomb had already been
stripped bare of its wealth, assuming there had ever been any to steal. Sighing
with disappointment, he watched as Taren approached Ailwen’s final resting
place.

Carved upon the lid of the sarcophagus was the
effigy of the same woman whose face adorned the many statues throughout the
cavern. It appeared as though she were only resting, which surprised the young
mage, considering the action poses of her other statues. This didn’t seem to
fit the vigorous lifestyle she obviously had led. Shining runes of silver
displayed her name just below her feet. Taren rubbed a trembling hand across
the chiseled letters. Ailwen lay before him.

“This is it!” he cried in excitement. “Finally!”
He pushed with all his strength against the heavy stone lid, but it did not
budge.

Zamna set aside his disappointment to lend some
muscle to the task. Together they shoved, but the sarcophagus remained sealed.

“I’ll have to use magic,” Taren said. Reaching
deep into his stores, he focused his energy to sliding the lid enough to peer
inside the stone coffin. As he held the spell, a glint of gold inside caught
his eye. Nearly losing his concentration, he focused once more, forcing the lid
aside. It slid slowly to the side, landing heavily on the ground.

A cloud of dust rose out of the grave, and Taren
fanned his hands to help clear it. His heart raced, and every vein in his body
seemed to throb. This was his moment. The symbol was about to be his.

Taren could hardly breathe as he looked upon the
remains of the once-great sorceress. Before him lay Ailwen in her skeletal
form. Her bones were still arranged in the correct places, though her skin had
long since rotted away. Nothing remained of her person but dried bones and
dust. Upon her head she wore a simple, gold tiara. No magical staff, no jewels,
and no other ornamentation graced her body. The symbol was not there. Taren’s
heart sank into his feet.

Clutched in the sorceress’s bony hands was a
scroll of parchment. Taren reached in to relieve the woman of her prize. Her
grip held fast, and he had to pry her fingers away from the wooden ends of the
scroll.

Noticing the look of utter despair on his friend’s
face, Zamna asked, “Is it what you were looking for?”

Taren shook his head. “Right tomb, wrong item.” He
raised the scroll to eye level, staring at it as if in a trance. He had come
all this way for nothing. This scroll was probably the last laugh of the person
who had taken the symbol away centuries ago. The thief had placed it there as a
mockery to let the next person know he had already absconded with the prize.

Zamna saw the glint of gold from Ailwen’s tiara.
Some
gold is better than none
, he thought. With a single swipe, he snatched the
golden crown from her head and tucked it inside his bag. Instantly, the ground
began to quake, accompanied by a low rumbling sound. A deep crack appeared in
the plateau only feet away from the sarcophagus.

Taren thrust the scroll into the pocket of his
robe and ran toward the rope bridge. Zamna followed two steps behind, pausing
as he reached the bridge. The crack continued to widen, and the rumbling became
more of a groan. Before their eyes, a massive chasm formed where they once had
stood. All went silent.

The travelers glanced at each other, their feet
glued to the ground. Should they run? Would they ever find their way back to
the entrance? Could there possibly be a back door they were supposed to use?
With the bone man in a heap, there was no one left to guide them. Instead of
running, they stood frozen, staring at the chasm.

A flash of shiny black scales leapt from the
depths, its agile body moving silently across the plateau. They gaped in horror
at the enormous figure. It was solid black and slender like a snake or an eel,
its body stretching to a distance of at least thirty feet. At each end, a
triangular head with two glowing yellow eyes stared back at them. Flicking its
forked tongues, it tasted the air for its victims.

The duo raced across the bridge, not stopping to
look back. When they reached the end of the bridge, Zamna grabbed his
companion’s arm, steering him along the plateau. Several feet ahead was a
formation of massive columns that might protect them from the strange beast.
The black creature pursued as the pair ran with all speed to the rock
formations. Taking cover behind the solidified minerals, they paused a moment
to catch their breath.

Taren tapped into his magic, preparing an energy
blast for the approaching creature. It writhed and wriggled as it moved, and it
was gaining ground on the pair, who were crouched behind the massive rocks.
When the creature came into range, Taren unleashed the magic, sending the
monster reeling. The pair took to their feet once more, their eyes scanning for
a safer place to hide.

The beast regained its senses quicker than Taren
had hoped. It was already searching for them as they fled. Taren paused a
moment and summoned his magic. In his mind, he located the pile of bones left
behind by their guide. Concentrating as best he could under stress, he animated
the bones, rattling and clanging them to draw the creature away. The beast moved
away to investigate, giving the pair enough time to make their escape.

They dashed along the plateau, moving farther and
farther from the bridges that had brought them in. Deeper they ran inside the
cavern, searching for anything that might shield them from their pursuer. Taren
spotted a low shelf of minerals and pointed. Zamna followed him in, both men
squeezing themselves inside the narrow opening between the lowered ceiling and
the floor. With a blast of energy, Taren collapsed a stalactite to block the
opening in front of them. There was no sign of the creature.

“What was that thing?” Zamna whispered.

“It’s an amphista,” Taren replied. “I’ve seen them
only in bestiary books. I didn’t think they really existed.”

Zamna stared at him. “Apparently they do.”

“They’re said to be guardians of the Realm of the Dead,”
Taren explained. “Their bite is highly toxic. Usually its victims die without
ever knowing they were bitten.”

Zamna furrowed his brow. “We have to find a way
out of this place.”

The mage was not ready to leave. Though his hopes
had been dashed, deep inside he knew the symbol must reside inside this tomb.
He could not leave without it. If he had to search every inch to find it,
that’s what he would do. Master Imrit deserved that much from his apprentice. “The
symbol could still be here somewhere,” Taren replied. “I’m not ready to give up
on it.”

A hiss echoed from the walls of the cavern as the
monster found its way to their location. The bones had not fooled it for long. Striking
its massive head against the stone, it chipped away at the fallen rock that protected
the men inside. Zamna drew his daggers, slashing at the massive head as it came
forward. The amphista’s tongue brushed his hand, leaving a sticky,
foul-smelling residue.

“Keep your hands away from it!” Taren shouted.
Reaching into his magic, he blasted energy toward the monster, knocking it
slightly off-balance and moving the stone away. With the way ahead clear, the
pair made their escape from the narrow space.

“What now?” Zamna asked as they ran into the
darkened cavern.

“I have to find the symbol,” the mage cried. “We
need to go back to the burial site. I have to look for clues.”

Zamna could understand the young man’s
frustration. He was frustrated as well. But with a giant snake chasing them,
there was little chance of living long enough to find what they sought.

Turning down a corridor to their right, they stepped
inside a tiny room. As the light caught up with their position, they beheld not
one, but seven stone pillars, each standing at a different height. Laying low
would not save them if they tried to cross the room.

“We can’t go this way!” Zamna shouted. “Go back
toward the grave. We’ll see if there’s another way out.”

The amphista was approaching from behind them. It
hissed, spitting a noxious substance at the pair. Instinctively, they dove in
opposite directions to avoid the spray. Taren landed hard, smashing his
shoulder against the wall. Rolling up to his feet, Zamna dashed to Taren and
grabbed his arm. The mage was not as agile as the assassin, but fear proved a
good motivator to ignore the pain he was in. They dashed forward, charging at
the beast.

Taren extended a hand and focused his mind to
paralyze the snake. This was their only chance to get past it. Summoning all
the remaining power he had, he threw it at the monster. It reared its heads as
the magic struck its lithe body. The force of the spell froze the beast in
place, rendering it powerless as the two men ran by.

“How long will it stay like that?” Zamna asked,
still running.

“Not long enough!” Taren replied. Cramming his
hand into the pocket sewn inside his robe, he retrieved a potion. With a single
gulp, he downed the liquid inside and tossed the vial over his shoulder. This
was no time to be weakened by lack of power.

Racing through the massive cavern, they found
their way back to Ailwen’s grave. Without a care for respecting the dead, Taren
dug greedily into her open sarcophagus, leaving her remains in disarray.
Finding nothing, Taren fell to his knees defeated. Zamna stood tall, his
daggers at the ready. The amphista could return at any minute.

“It’s not here,” Taren admitted quietly. “I’ve
failed.”

“What was on that scroll you found?” Zamna asked.

Taren had forgotten about the scroll. Retrieving
it from his pocket, he opened it and stared at the words before him. It read as
a letter from the sorceress to any who would disturb her tomb.

To the weary traveler,

It is all too likely you have come seeking the
symbol which I possess, but I have not relinquished my claim to it. To the
Realm of the Dead I have taken it. There it shall abide with me for eternity.
Though it destroyed my body, I have melded the symbol with my own life essence,
creating a synergy of unfathomable magic. No other sorcerer could hope to wield
the power I have attained. Your journey has been for naught.