Child of Flame (Crown of Stars #4)

He moved cautiously forward among the stone pillars. A jumble of items lay strewn across the cavern floor: stones, broken sticks, a fragment of a plank, a spear, a singed leather helmet, a deflated leather pouch, dry and withered, and fine necklaces and wristbands gleaming with the dull fervor of gold. When he stood close enough to fend off the phoenix’s first snap, should it wake, he waved the others forward. The undertone of hissing from the snakes increased, and although the phoenix’s eyes stayed shut, its tail feathers fanned out slightly. A half dozen of the eyes on its tail snapped open.

Those eyes actually moved, watching the intruders pass behind him. Although his back was to them, he could mark each of his companions crossing by the motion of those uncanny eyes, tracking first one, then the second, then the third. The phoenix muttered in its sleep. Its tail fanned out farther until green-gold feathers brushed the roof. Two Fingers blew gently on his feather a second time. As the breath of that sound echoed through the cavern, silence descended again except for the hissing snakes.

As Alain shifted back, making ready to follow the others, gold winked, a gleam half hidden by rubbish. He stooped, and rose with a gold feather.

A dozen feather eyes popped open at once. He actually started back, so surprised was he by that sudden wakening. A snake wriggled free of the fetid nest and fell, slithering, to the floor, tongue tasting the air. Seeking him.

He lifted the feather to his mouth and blew. The gold shaft breathed a low moan. Half the open feather eyes hooded, drooping, falling to sleep.

But there was still that damned snake. He had lost sight of it among the rubbish. A broken cup, disturbed, rolled sideways.

Edging backward, staff held so that he could strike down, he stepped back through the pillared columns until he ran up against Two Fingers’ steadying hand.

“Now, go we quick.” Two Fingers sounded like he was about to start laughing.

Laugh they did, once they had gotten farther down the tunnel and found a narrow cleft half blocked by rockfall where they could stop and sit. Alain actually laughed enough, trying to stifle it so that it didn’t echo through the rock passageway, that he had to wipe away tears.

“You are brave,” said Laoina admiringly.

“Or foolish,” agreed Two Fingers. He brought out flint and a shred of dried mushroom for tinder.

Adica said nothing. She did not need to, with the hounds on either side of her, the ones who knew how much he loved her. All she needed to do was smile at him. A wan light emanating from the gold feather illuminated her face. Oddly, the way the light shaded her face made her old burn scar stand out starkly. She reached to touch his cheek, smoothing a finger over that place where, as she had shown him once in her mirror, he had a red blemish shaped like a rose.

Maybe it wasn’t the rush of overpowering love he felt for her at that moment that caused the tinder to spark and burn. Probably it was the flint. But the torch couldn’t have burned any brighter. He leaned over and swiftly kissed Adica on the cheek before following Two Fingers.

The smoke from the torch made the narrow passages seem even smaller, but as they walked on, the air became moist, the walls dripped, and the sound or running water grew louder. Eventually they entered a long cavern filled with water except for a narrow walk along the cave wall. This underground stream flowed from the far end of the grotto where a fall cascaded out of an opening, along the cavern, and into a natural culvert nearby them. The hounds sidled up to the water, drank their fill, and settled down on the ledge while the others drank. The water had a rich almost salty taste but was so cool and refreshing that mead could not have satisfied him more.

With a sigh, Alain leaned against cold stone and surveyed the cave. It glistened with moisture. Patches of blue-green moss gave a soft glow throughout the room. Two tunnels entered on the other side of the water. The water itself was clear, but shallow, perhaps only an arm’s length deep. Slimy yellows, browns, and whites encrusted the bottom, and small pale white fish, salamanders, and eels thrashed wildly when the torch was held high to view them more carefully.

“Hrm huum,” hummed Two Fingers thoughtfully, considering Alain. He had evidently exhausted his entire store of the language of the White Deer people, because he spoke in his own tongue and let Laoina translate. The noise of the cataract meant they had to yell in order to be heard. “How did you come by the gold feather?”

“I saw it on the ground. I picked it up.”

Rage stood suddenly and let out a single “woof” that pierced through the tumble of water. Sorrow rose groggily from a nap, but his attention quickly sharpened as he focused on the tunnel across from them. Two Fingers quenched the torch in the water.