The group ate quietly with only the faint sound of wind and echoes breaking the silence. They had moved through the tunnel following the vein of faintly pulsing crystals until they met a fork. Bauru and Lirain were sent out ahead one to each passage to scout.

Serene passed around the party healing over more wounds exchanging only what was needed to know what to heal. Dane Cleaned his shield and gauntlet, while Rugiel sat close to Armand. She was an anchor holding the old knight to this lifetime with her solidifying presence. Stonric sat alone at the head of the fork and tore at a piece of the dried meat, thinking of what they encountered so far and planning a route through the paths before them.

Only Stonric and Armand looked up as the silent shadow took shape revealing a smiling Bauru. "I could 'ave taken the lot with an arrow and none would be the wiser." He said playfully looking at the haggard party.

"Aye, lad. Your steps grow lighter every day, but these old ears still hear ya trumping around like an old goat." Stronric replied.

Bauru was about to speak when the faintest of shuffling could be heard just a twin shadow, although considerably taller and leaner, stepped from the other direction. Lirian gave a nod and walked to the two dwarves.

"Well it seems ye have word, spill it so we may move on from this place." Stronric grumbled out.

The party all turned their attention to the scouts, waiting for their reports. Bauru spoke first, "My path was that of stone and stairs. I followed the path until I knew it spoke true with no cave ins or barricades. It led down, the air smelling fouler by the step, but the air did flow. The crystal veins tracked down the walls continuing onward and building in size, likely to another Anchor Stone."

Stronric nodded, then turned to Lirian. Lirian sat then began. "I followed the cursed crystals down into a thinning cave. The space is big enough to kneel in places so tight some might need to crawl. It follows the running water, pockets deep enough to wade in some spots. There are traps along the track as well. The crystal vein never grew too large or pulsed too hard. It's probably the newest one, and the traps are to protect its valuability."

Serene had approached, "That is likely true, the first was strong, but the third would take time to grow and flourish."

"Two paths, two stones, one way to each." Stronric mused aloud.

"These Anchors will need to be stopped in tandem if we don't want to risk activating a third." Serene said, continuing on as she took in the parties confused gazes. "They build fail safes. Stones implanted but not activated. Two can share the burden of three, but one can not hold the portal's strength. They will place backups to catch the fleeting power if we do not end the two anchors as one."

"Then the only way forward is to diverge." Armand said. "In the water ways, is there space to swing a sword or an axe?"

"Not well. It's too tight for broadswords and warhammers." Lirian replied

"My flames would light, but they would also cause unbearable steam to those of softer flesh." Rugiel said plainly.

"The stairways are broad and open, only the headspace is limited by low hanging stalactites." Bauru said.

Stonric rose to his feet. "The dwarves and Armand will take the stairs. We need the space to swing and we need a scout. The rest of ye will go with Lirian through the puddles, with spells and first weapons it shouldn't slow ya or put ye at risk." Stonric said, brokering no room for argument. He turned to Serene, "How can we ensure the end is met together?"

"As the feeders and husks are cut on each end the stutter can be felt between the two. A staggering of the pulse, in theory, could be seen from one to the other. One pulse with thrum true and second off beat a second would be seen. When the two erratic pulses align then they are ready to be removed." Serene informed them.

"Then we make the heart's erratic, then once married in their death beat, we count 2 minutes to ensure both parties can make it to their stones, then we take them." Stonric said. "We can send out a series of whistles, three solid in a row, on the third we pull. If the veins all connect they may travel giving us another form of timing to be sure."

The group looked to him, no arguments were made and the plan was solidified. The party returned to their meals, prepared their gear and spoke in low voices. Serene took a place by Bauru, split her ration, and set half on his knee without ceremony. He met her eyes, nodded once, and smiled the small smile he saved for friends.

Armand sat, his eyes red and raw. Rugiel remained next to him, their shoulders sharing the weight of the burden Armand carried. Tears had dried in salt tracks down his cheeks. He spoke softly, "I… I broke for ze group and I would have killed ze boy." he said. The shame in it wasn't theatrical, it was a simple statement of fact. Rugiel could see the hurt, but she didn't try to deflate it because it should hurt, both the memories and the actions. Pain could cloud but it could also clear.

"Armand," Rugiel said, the name shaped like a courtesy. "You are wounded, and you are wroth. These are no crimes, they are conditions. We shall set them straight with time, actions and love. Try to let them pass and stay here with us now."

The old knight turned to her, "Oui, I shall try. I do not doubt my sword or my heart, just my mind. It's easier knowing warriors fight for me when I am unable, that eases the mind. Forward then." Armand said, patting Rugiel's hand in thanks.

Stonric stood and the party followed suit. They cleaned up their resting area and split into the two groups. "If no way forward is found, come back to this point and travel down the other's path. Make camp at the nearest safe place once the fight is over. Sleep, eat and wait. Send the scouts forward to inform the waiting parties. If nothing is heard then press forward in the morning, I'm sure these paths lead somewhere." Stonric said to everyone.

They said their goodbyes like working folk: short, honest, with the kind of words that can be remembered without collapsing. Dane and Stronric gripped forearms. Serene and Rugiel pressed knuckles to knuckles, hammer to staff without striking. Lirian tapped the edge of his blade to Stronric's axe beard, the smallest kiss of steel to steel, not a promise exactly, more an understanding. Giles looked at Armand and then over his shoulder and then back again. Armand put two fingers to the guard of his sword, lifted them, and lowered them. That was the language they had for now.

Serene lit her staff, sending out a faint golden glow. Morgal's flames slowly spread over Rugiel's warhammer sending the blue hued light over their half of the tunnel.

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"We'll see you on the other side." Rugiel called.

"On her word," Stronric said, meaning Serene.

"On mine," Serene answered. "Lets go!"

Dane, Serene, Kara, Giles and Lirian went down the path to the left. The stone roof quickly descended and the walls closed in forcing the parting into line. The group first hunched over then were forced to crouch, quickly they were crawling. Lirian led the party, belly-low, reed in one hand and blade in the other, marking distance with cuts and reeds. Dane had shoved his shield ahead flat like a sled. Serene staid in the middle, staff held off the ground lighting the path ahead and behind as best she could. Kara kept to the margin with patrician composure, trailing two fingers to lay thin panes of frost along the path ahead, freezing over holes filled with water. Giles brought up the rear, his shield strapped and dragging.

"Low voices," Serene murmured. "Match me, breath in four and out four. It helps steady the mind."

The crawl was tight and felt alive, breathing a cold gust of wind down their back. Lirian moved a quickly as he could while searching for the traps he new hid among the shadows. Some were easy enough to cross ever, since they were hidden in the murky water of the puddles and wells they crossed over on Kara's ice.

He stopped abruptly. "Trip," Lirian murmured.

He used a reed to lift a gut-cord set a finger width over the surface of a crevice. It was nearly invisible as it ran over the faint cracks hidden within the light radiating from the thrumming crystal. He teased it up, slid his knife under, and let it settle on steel with a dull click and a thump. The trap disabled and he called back to his party in a hushed tone, "There will be more traps and the next ones will be more clever."

Dane's shield kissed a low rib of stone and hummed back in odd angles. He crouched lower and angled the boss toward whatever pushed back. "Sound travels odd," Dane breathed.

"It returns with a debt," Serene said. "Let us not owe one." She touched the staff to the water and spread a hush, warmth that sat on the surface like light on an old stone step.

They found signs a dozen yards in: claw scrapes unfairly neat, a palm smear of pitch on the right wall, a tangle of twine where a snare had been set and sprung. Lirian cocked his head and listened to the seams the way Bauru listened. "Two went through quickly," he said. "A third crawled… slowed, then hurried."

"Scout and sapper," Giles said. "Or scout and coward."

"Coward lives longer," Lirian returned, dry. "We'll meet him, or not."

The crawl widened to a ledge big enough for two boots side by side. From ahead, a faint throb answered itself too regularly for water, too patient for a heart that belonged to a body. Kara's frost quivered on the panes, then steadied.

Giles kept Serene's count to himself one, two, three, four until his lungs matched it and the tightness under his ribs eased. Dane glanced back once with a small nod that said he'd noticed and would not tell.

They went on, quiet, the sound of their progress no louder than a sleeve on a table.

THE STAIRWAY

The dry stairs started as twenty-odd steps cut square into the limestone in a straight run heading directly up. Each tread was a handspan deep with a thumb's bevel at the nose. The risers kept to six inches making the steps easily traveled by the short legged dwarves and caused Armand to adjust his gait.

Tool marks still showed, short pick bites, flat-chisel striations running crosswise along the lip of the stairs to add grip underfoot. A narrow gutter had been cut along the right wall to take water runoff and prevent it from pooling on the slick stairs. Iron stubs dotted the left of the passage where a handrail had once been pinned and pried away.

The top of the tunnel dropped to a bare seven feet, but it was crowded with stalactites that hung low causing Armand to shift and duck though the tight headspace. They continued up the stairway and Bauru paused to examine the vein thrumming faintly along the wall.

It was like a crystal river flowing along the left wall cutting into the stone wall. The red glowing crystals pulsed and thrummed and faintly through the vein Bauru thought he could make out the sound of metal sliding along stone and soft whispers. He didn't say anything aloud, it's better to leave the unknown then try to confirm a false hope in a place such as this.

The stair switched back twice, tighter each time, the inner treads shaved shallow to save effort and the outer noses of the stairs were chipped to show the line when traveling up with bad light. They passed under three risers, showing the old work of repairs. The risers had been face-cracked and reset with stacked slabs; the joints were honest but uneven. Periodically a scratched tally could be seen at a dwarfs shoulder height, five bars, then another five, likely a digger's private count. Bauru marked their own path with a twist of reed.

Bauru led at point with the Mountain Canary pacing at his side. Predator was in an easy cradle across his chest at ease but ready. Every dozen steps the bird dipped her beak to a seam and tasted the whisper there. Twice she flattened her feathers and hissed, and twice Bauru's hand tightened on the weapon.

Rugiel kept even with Stronric. The glow that had bedded itself in her hammer slept now, banked to a warmth only her hand could feel. She had the habit of touching the head with two fingers when the air changed, not superstition, but with calibration. Morgal loved heat, yes, but he loved it in the right place. She was listening for the places where heat would betray them.

Armand walked one pace behind Stronric. He carried the greatsword low and canted to keep the tip from ringing the wall. His eyes were clear as flowing water after the flood. The strained blue-grey eyes were clear of redness, but the red of the grief had not left his skin. You could almost see it underneath, no longer boiling under but a steady simmer waiting to either cool or heat. He moved like a man who had put his heart on a shelf for a stretch so his hands could work, determined to avoid the hurtful thoughts and memories with movement and actons.

"Say it," Armand said at last to Stronric, in a voice that tried to be ordinary.

"Say what?" Stronric asked, his voice with neither kind or accusatory it simply left the man room to choose his words.

"Zat I am a danger," Armand said. "Zat you'll bind my wrists eef I look wrong."

Stronric snorted. "If ye look wrong, I'll knock ye on your arse and sit on ye. Wrists don't enter into it. As for danger, aye. Ye're dangerous." Stonric looked up at his companion and shared a small smile with the human.

They went on. The stair turned twice, then opened to a ledge over an old watercourse. The river's water was a memory here the bed laid dry, but still it had left its mind in the stone. A polished scar wound its way through the expansive cavern. The crystal vein snaked down the landing, its glow lighting faintly along the old river bank.

They made their way down easily traveling along the river bed. Stonric could see the signs of long passed wards carved into the stones. They were a sign of a keeper's hand and of life that once was here. The walls across the river wore grooves in broken parallel, shoulder-high, like a comb dragged through bone-soft rock. There was a worn foot path to follow that kept the party close to the vein they followed but kept them from having to climb and slide along the rocking river bank.

Twice more they stopped to let Bauru listen to the veins. Once they leaned away from a vent that breathed warm and carried a smell of rotten eggs, warmth and the cold sweetness of something that had learned to rot without air. They gave that vent a wide berth and kept their flame asleep.

"Do ye want to talk about her?" Stronric asked Armand, after a span of quiet that had not been uncomfortable but had done its job.

"Ada?" Armand said. He did not say my wife, as if the cave needed common nouns. "Non. Not now. Eef I speak 'er name too often in zis place, eet will learn eet and make a maze out of eet. I will keep 'er in my chest where ze stone cannot pry."

Rugiel didn't look at him when she said over her shoulder. "When we are out, we shall remember her properly," she said. "I will sit with you and listen, as long as you wish."

Armand drew a slow breath. "Merci," he said. "And you? You carry your troubles in your left 'and."

Rugiel flexed the hand and let out a small, dry laugh. "I do. It aches when I pretend I have none." She glanced at him. "I have been too quick to strike of late, too slow to stay and steady. I mean to do better with you, with all of us."

"You steadied me," Armand said. "Zat is work enough."

"Then I shall keep at it," she replied, turning then to share a smile, a hint of warmth breaking through. "And you shall tell me when I press too hard."

Bauru lifted a palm. They halted in the shadow of a stone rib that rose from floor to ceiling like a vertebra. "Talkin' time's done," the scout whispered. "We're close."

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