Chapter 14

Their first torch was more than half gone when at last Mak and Riggan reached the bottom of the stair. They would soon have to light the spare that they had snatched from another holder farther down the corridor from Riggan's cell, and there wasn't any too much left of it, either. Mak could only wonder at the labor it must have taken to carve these interminable steps out of solid rock.

"They wouldn't have worked that hard if this didn't go some place," he grumbled. "I only hope that place is the outside."

Riggan didn't answer, and Mak turned to see him leaning against the wall of the tunnel.

"Sorry, I haven't had much to eat lately." He sat down abruptly on the bottom step.

"Stay here and rest. I'll check to see which way we should go." He tried to peer right and left, but the light of his torch only reached a little way.

"Aren't those torches?" Riggan pointed at a low mound by the far wall of the tunnel.

"Looks like it. Ouch!" Forgetting that he was barefoot, Mak prodded the pile of sticks with his toe, finding it unexpectedly solid. "Hold the torch over here so I can see what I'm doing."

He tried to pick up one of the torches, but his fingers slid over a smooth surface. "The dripping water has coated them with stone," he growled. "They won't do us any good."

Riggan looked surprised at this penetrating comment, but said only, "In that case we'd better find a way out of here before both of these torches are gone."

The tunnel had once been a natural cave. It sloped upward to their left, but that way soon pinched off. To the right it broadened, and they soon left behind any marks of tools. An occasional branching corridor led off to one side or the other, but always a slight draft blew the flame of their torch back the way they'd come. Mak carried the torch now, halfcarrying the rapidly weakening Riggan. The torch burned ever lower, and they hurried as much as they could. The only time Mak even paused was just long enough to blacken the ceiling each place the cave branched.

At last they reached a large room. The light of their torch couldn't reach the far side, but nearby were the mouths of several tunnels leading in different directions. They walked across smooth stone to the center of the cavern. Mak stood still, holding the torch on high. The flame burned steadily in the gloom, then wavered very slightly in a faint draft. Riggan had slumped to the floor as soon as they stopped moving, and Mak had to help him to his feet.

"Sorry to be so much trouble," he mumbled, then added with a shrill laugh, "Maybe you should leave me behind."

"We'll both make it," Mak answered cheerfully, hiding his doubts. Riggan was almost out on his feet, and couldn't be counted on to go much further.

In the new tunnel, Mak could actually feel the faintest of drafts against his face. Their first torch was already dying, and he hastily lit the other one. Their way sloped upward, and once again he could make out faint marks of hammer and chisel where the way had been widened and smoothed. The tunnel floor dipped downward, rose, then dipped again. They splashed through a shallow runnel of clear water, and the two men paused to slake their thirst.

With a final flaring leap, the flame of their last torch guttered out! Riggan gave a wordless cry of fear, and Mak's firm grip on his arm was all that kept him from running wildly through the darkness.

"Steady, steady," he cautioned, keeping his voice low and calm. "We can still feel the air on our faces. We'll just have to go slower, and hope we don't fall into any pits. There haven't been any so far, and we'll just have to hope for the best."

"Dark! Always dark," Riggan muttered brokenly. "Never see the light. Never again..." He twisted uneasily, pulling against Mak's grip on his arm, but at last calmed down enough to follow Mak's guidance.

Supporting Riggan with one hand and feeling his way with the other, Mak shuffled slowly along. The floor was far from smooth, and he waited tensely for the moment when it would fall away in front of them. They passed one side tunnel, then another, but always the freshening breeze guided them on their way.

Had they been underground only a few hours, or had it been several days? Mak couldn't tell. They had quenched their thirst at a tiny underground stream while the torch still burned, and once or twice more after it had burned out, but Mak's throat was again tinder dry as he staggered wearily through the neverending night. He strained his eyes against the darkness, as though to will light into being. All he saw were darting sparks of light across his field of vision that shifted and changed as he rubbed his burning eyes.

With a tired sigh Riggan collapsed against him. Mak bent over him to make sure that he still breathed, then with a grunt draped the skeletal body over his shoulder. The gaunt body was surprisingly light, but Mak still staggered over rough spots in the tunnel floor as he followed the hint of moving air that fanned his sweaty forehead.

He stopped for what seemed like the thousandth time to shake his head, clearing the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand. One of the dancing points of light seemed to steady for a moment. Mak stepped forward, and now he could see another point of light, and another!

Mak shuffled forward with a hoarse cry of triumph. The wall at his right hand fell away, and he felt dry leaves crunching underfoot. A few more steps and he was out in the open, standing under dense trees at the foot of a steep hill. A few openings in the branches let him see more of the twinkling stars that had led him to safety, and off to one side a faint glow foreshadowed the laterising moon. Returning to the mouth of the cave, he laid Riggan on a bed of dried leaves. The emaciated form stirred once, settling into a more comfortable position as Mak heaped more of the leaves around and over him for protection against the night's chill. Immediately, Riggan's ragged breathing took on the deep, slow rhythm of profound sleep.

Riggan's nostrils twitched. He stirred restlessly as a delicious smell of roasting meat penetrated his uneasy dreams. He tried to settle back and drift off again, but the pangs of hunger would not be denied. He opened his eyes, at a loss for a moment to know where he was. Then he saw Mak's hairy body outlined against the light from the mouth of the cave. His rescuer was crouching there, holding a small carcass spitted on a twig over a tiny fire.