Chapter 399: The Hidden Gateway

There was no mistaking that up ahead and above the tunnel floor, she could sense another source of the Traveller’s magic. Excitement rose at the thought of another pocket of the dead Saint’s power hidden deep beneath the chamber above it.

This was it.

The kind of secret she, Hart and Cedric had come to find.

“It could be a hidden portal,” she said. “Or something else concealed down here.”

“Oh by Uldar,” Peter said, his voice choking with fear. “Another portal? W-where do you think it opens up to?”

“Maybe someplace with more starving monsters that’ll come pouring out and attack us.” Paul audibly swallowed. “Not that you couldn’t handle some monsters, Drestra. Oh, by Uldar, do you think it leads to someplace with those demon worshippers?”

“I don’t know, yet,” the Sage said. “That's what we have to find out.”

“U-um.” Peter looked back at the direction they’d come from. “Maybe we should go back and tell Command. We could get more soldiers, or even call the Holy Champion and Holy Chosen. A-and then the three of you could go find out what’s what with a few squads of archers, some priests, and maybe a mage to back you up.”

“You can go back if you want to,” Drestra said. “But I think it’s best to see what it is and not leave it unattended. By the time reinforcements get here, it could be long gone.”

The truth was, she’d rather not have Uldar’s servants around. She wanted to have a look before they did because she had no clue how they’d react, and depending on what she was sensing, things could turn hostile.

And if things turned hostile…well, better not to think about that.

“W-well,” Peter cleared his throat. “Then, on we go I guess.”

“Yeah.” Paul raised his sword. “How would it look if we just let you go on ahead by yourself? We might not be much compared to you, but three heads are better than one, eh? At least we’ll be two more sets of eyes for ya.”

Gratitude warred with agitation inside Drestra. On one hand, it was brave and noble of the guards to want to stay with her…but on the other, she really would’ve preferred to go on alone. She thought about ways to get them going on their way.

“No,” she said, her voice taking a note of command. “In case something happens up ahead, I want you to go tell the others that there’s something here. Don’t come back down here unless I come out first, or unless Hart and Cedric are with you.”

Peter and Paul looked at each other; relief flitting across their faces.

“Neither of us are crazy enough to argue with a Hero, so we’ll go,” Peter said. “But, be careful down here.”

“Yeah, take care of yourself, Drestra,” Paul said.

With a quick bow, both guards lifted their lanterns and started back the way they’d come. The Sage watched them round the bend, the glimmer of their lights receding as they ascended, and soon, even the clink of armour faded.

She exhaled a deep breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

Then, she went into a flurry of movement.

Soon, Peter and Paul would reach the main cavern, and—if their commanders didn’t wait for Cedric and Hart—the tunnel would get very crowded, very fast.

Whatever it was that was up ahead, she wanted to be the first to see it. She hurried into the passage and strode deeper underground, the familiar power of the Traveller growing stronger. Each step brought her closer to the mana ahead. She listened for shifting sounds, and watched the light as she sniffed the air.

The air near portals was usually sweeter and fresher, since most were connected to settings well above ground, and they were also a good light source. She stayed alert for those signs, drawing closer to the mana source, but—the air and light never changed.…

The Sage’s footsteps sounded in the dark.

The only new scent reaching her was the occasional strong whiff of decaying food scraps, or waste matter from monsters that once dwelled in the tunnel. No sign of portals or anything concerning the Traveller.

Drestra paced, hoping for a sign of…well, anything.

It was only after another fifty steps that she realised the mana was growing weaker in her senses.

“What in all the hells?” she swore, stopping to take a closer look around. “I know I didn’t pass anything!”

She backtracked.

Some twenty paces later, she paused.

Then stepped back five paces.

“Here, here’s where it’s strongest…”

She scanned the passageway, her eyes drifting to the ceiling.

Now the mana felt strong, like it was coming from above.

“Is it hidden in an illusion?” she wondered aloud. Casting a flight spell on herself, she floated upward and ran her hands along the walls and ceiling, there was nothing there but solid stone. No illusions for a secret passage to be concealed in.

The only thing her palm touched was cold stone.

…wait.

Cold stone?

She felt the ceiling again.

Cool stone. Cool stone. Cool stone.

And then…

She hadn’t imagined it.

One area was icy cold, far colder than the rest!

Floating backward while speaking words of power, Drestra conjured a slab of rock, and with a quick pulse of her will, rammed the coldest spot on the ceiling.

A deafening crack echoed off the walls.

Debris dropped to the floor.

And then…

“Light!” she smiled.

The slab had broken through a thin layer of stone, exposing a narrow passage leading to a dim source of light. Fresh air that held a chill so deep it was almost painful, gushed into the tunnel, making her shudder.

“What were you hiding down here, Traveller?” she whispered. “Were you looking for a way into Uldar’s sanctum?”

“Maybe it’s time to find out.”

Casting defensive spells over herself, the Sage floated up to the secret passage and squeezed in. The space was tight, and neither Hart nor Cedric would be able to fit through it.

She wriggled around, shifting her shoulders and using her hands to pull herself up through the narrow passage, and into a larger chamber above it.

“Hoo,” she let out the breath she’d been holding to get past the confining space.

“Where am I?”

It appeared she’d gone higher and deeper into the rock and toward the central cavern above. A guess would put her much deeper in the earth than the portal chamber, but probably somewhere almost directly below it.

This chamber seemed unremarkable, but the source of light and fresh air was coming from somewhere outside of it. The air was cold. Very cold. The heart of a Thameish winter kind of cold.

The kind of cold that called for a warming spell and a cloak pulled tighter around herself. She blew on her hands and cautiously floated toward the source of light, ready to cast a rock or acid spell at anything unfriendly.

Ahead, a doorway awaited and she steeled herself then peeked through it, her spells ready.

A loud gasp left her lips.

She was looking into another mostly unremarkable chamber…

…but floating in the centre of this one, was the largest portal Drestra’d seen in the entire Cave complex. The portal’s floor hovered mere inches from the chamber floor, but the top ended near the room’s ceiling, which was at least twice the height of Chancellor Baelin. It was also broad in width: maybe some twenty feet across.

And through it…

“What is that?” she whispered.

She was staring into a room so vast, she couldn’t see the ceiling or most of the walls, it was like it was limitless. Only a floor of large tiles and a wall that looked like it had been carved from a single piece of stone was defined, and the architecture was oddly similar to the temple chamber in the Cave above.

The wall, though, was covered in writing in an unfamiliar language. Each character was etched in the stone with precision by a masterful hand, and there was enough text covering the wall to fill a substantial book.

What also caught her eye were three statues positioned against the wall. The two on either side were ferocious looking goddesses with teeth that were pointed like sharp spikes. Drestra’s eyes flew wide.

“Their…their faces look like Claygon’s!” she said aloud.

Of course, they didn’t have deadly fire-gems in the middle of their foreheads…but she could feel powerful magic radiating from them. Cautiously, she turned her eyes away from the statues on the left and right, and focused on the one in the centre.

It was even more familiar.

The tall, benevolent form of Uldar towered above, his right hand held in the mirror-image of his holy symbol. His robes had been sculpted so exactly, that the folds appeared to be in motion, and the details of his hair were so fine, she could make out individual strands.

Those perfect details highlighted his face, forcing her eyes to it, shocking her senses.

Because, Uldar’s expertly carved image had no face.

It wasn’t that it was unfinished: there were small remnants of his smiling mouth and chin. But at some point in time, a rough tool had been used to gouge and disfigure his features, until all that was left was an ugly ruin of stone. It was clear that whoever had done this, held nothing but rage and contempt for the Thameish god.

“What is this place and who hated him that much?” Drestra wondered.

Icy air continued pouring from the portal; wherever the building was, it was far from summertime there. But the question of where it was, was what needed an answer, and to begin to get that answer…. ‘I’ll have to get closer,’ Drestra thought. ‘Just close enough to look around. Ugh, I wish I knew Wizard’s Eye or any other spell like that.’

So, with the utmost caution, the Sage began floating toward the portal.

And that’s when the screams tore through the air.

Before she could react, both goddess statues' mouths parted, unleashing blood-chilling screams that drove Drestra’s hands over her ears. Then a sudden flare of golden light that seemed to be rising from right below her erupted.

Looking down…

…her blood went cold.

The Mark of the Sage—the staff emblazoned on her neck—flashed repeatedly with incandescence. Through the portal, the eyes of the goddess statues burned in tandem, and from all directions, the Traveller’s mana blazed as the cave shook with its power. The edge of the portal flashed with lights that shone in every hue of a rainbow. Then through the portal, the goddess’ stone lips twisted in a single word:

“Begone,’ they hissed, a whisper to the earlier screams.

The instant the word reached her, the edges of the portal shuddered.

And the doorway shut.

Light and sound left the chamber, and the Traveller’s mana faded away. In heartbeats, it was as though there never was anything there except rock and what looked to be an ‘X’ etched into the floor below where the portal had floated.

“What…what in the name of all the spirits was that?” Her voice trembled as she floated to the side of the cave to support herself against the wall and try to make sense of what just happened.

A portal was hidden beneath the Traveller’s sanctum, one that led to somewhere unfamiliar and ice-cold. There were two statues there that looked something like Claygon, and one of Uldar with his face hacked away.

The two goddess statues—she assumed they were goddesses—had magic: but Uldar’s statue hadn’t reacted…

“But the portal did react to me,” she said. “No, the portal and the statues didn’t react to me. They reacted to my Mark. They didn’t stop—Drestra—from entering the portal. …they stopped the ‘Sage’ from entering it.”

She swallowed. “I don’t know what the Traveller was working on, but from that reaction and Uldar’s face being ground off…seems she was hostile to the Heroes.”