Page 126 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Minnie would understand. She had to.
Thefirstdayinthe Deep passed calmly, almost pleasantly. It was a slow ride through the caverns and tunnels, the way rocky and perilous. Rock falls and underground floods had marred the path, and it could take hours to find themselves back on the main track, having gained little in the way of actual progress.
“Rest whenever it’s safe,” was one of Minerva’s main rules for surviving in the Deep. “Don’t push yourself. You never know when it might be safe to sleep again.”
They spoke of the monsters they were likely to encounter. Rogue golems, later on, dwarven-made rock men, left over from a rebellion many centuries ago. Ogres, likely. Maybe sluaghs or demonic bats. By far the worst seemed to be the description of ‘cave cats’—vicious, feline creatures that could shred you apart in seconds.
Caer was quite sure some of the creatures were exaggerated.
They stopped for the night in one of the smaller caverns, tucking themselves away in an alcove out of sight. Diana had caught some sort of small, boar-like creature earlier, which Luna flavoured with herbs she’d gathered on the journey. They saved their ale, water being in abundance here, and swapped stories and played pipes until they began to feel tired.
There was no need to set up a watch—Dillon offered to do it all.
“Doesn’t seem fair,” Luna remarked, “leaving you by yourself.”
Dillon shrugged. “Seems silly to deprive people of sleep who need it.”
Caer, Aislinn and Beau stayed up a while longer after the others had gone to bed. Caer knew Aislinn felt responsible for Dillon in some way, which was strange as she was not the one who brought him back. He’d asked her about it earlier in the day, but she’d struggled to explain it.
“I think, perhaps, I just feel the need to make sure he gets home safely.”
Caer could understand that, although he couldn’t deny he was jealous that Dillon, who had been dead for fifty years, had a home to go back to when all of this was over, whereas Caer knew, with a finality he could not explain, that his time at Afelcarregwas over, that he would never return to the cottage again either, and that while he was fascinated by Avalinth and the possibilities it held, it didn’t feel like home to him either. He wanted that anchor almost as much as he wanted—
Aislinn.
Their promise to each other had not left his mind, but neither had his doubts or fears. What would happen afterwards, when they went their separate ways?
The following morning, they breakfasted quickly and resumed their journey. They passed an old mine and wasted a bit of time seeing if the carts were still in operation—though Bell teased they spent more time answering Caer’s questions of how anything could move without something pulling it. Not long after, they came to an entrance to a tunnel and found a deep set of stairs. Sounds echoed from below.
Caerwyn breathed carefully, remembering what Minerva had said about why they used lifts now.
Thankfully, nothing disturbed them during the descent, and they exited the tunnel below into another cavern, lower than the previous one. There were parts where Caerwyn had to duck.
It took a while before it started to widen, but Caer’s fears didn’t abate. Noises continued to scuttle about the stone. He tried to focus on more pleasant things, like the colours in the plants clinging to the walls, or the steadydrip, dripof the underground river.
He was still staring at a patch of reeds when they parted and out tumbled a small pointy-eared creature covered in black fur. It looked rather like a cat, with larger eyes and slightly disproportionate limbs—a tail almost twice the length of an ordinary feline, and longer legs that ended with bigger paws.
“Hello,” he said. “Where did you come from?”
The creature blinked at him, then smiled at him in its cat-like way. Its mouth dropped open.
A mouth full of rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth.
It lunged for Caer, sinking into his arm and biting hard. Caer hissed, grabbing it by the neck and tugging it, the fangs going deeper and deeper into his flesh—
“Cave cats!” Minerva called. “Look alive!”
Another dozen of the creatures streamed out of the undergrowth, weapons drawn just in time. The creature didn’t budge from Caer’s arm, even after Aislinn hurled a fireball at it and singed its tail.
“Kill it, Caer!”
“Trying to!”
“Use your powers!”
It was so obvious Caer could kick himself, but his powers were not his default reaction. He wasn’t used to using them in a fight, not on purpose. There was too much going on, too much noise—
The creature thrashed, biting down harder. Another leapt up and sank its fangs into his shoulder.
