Page 83 of Bull Moon Rising

The basket creaks lower and lower, and I crane my head to glimpse each artifact as we sink lower. I’m pretty sure I see Magpie raise a flask to her lips, but I say nothing. I don’t want to lose a moment of this.

Because the narrow “neck” of the cave that we’ve been descending—Drop Thirteen—opens up, and then I can see the enormous cavern that is the ruins of Old Prell. Tears spring to my eyes as the sight spreads before us.

It’s the most beautiful, wondrous thing I’ve ever seen.

I’ve heard all the stories a thousand times. That Prell was a mighty kingdom full of wizardry and magic, and that a thousand years ago, the gods (or a nasty earthquake) struck and it sank below the earth. It turnsout that the city itself was built upon a network of caverns, and so the ruins themselves are scattered in a warren of tunnels, some big and some small, and it’s this that the guild guards so fiercely.

There’s a large open chamber in the cavern, and the ruins of ancient buildings spill from every rocky ledge. Toppled columns are covered with moss, and water drips onto broken pieces of statues. Everywhere I look, there are pieces of Old Prell scattered like a puzzle, and I’m left with the impression that if only I had the time and strength, I could pull it all together again and remake the city once more. I can’t wait to get out and explore.

But then our basket continues to descend, and I have to bite back a whimper of protest as we pass through the massive, fascinating cavern and keep going lower. The walls grow tighter, our basket smacking against the side and jostling us.

“Not much farther,” Magpie says as it gets dark again. There are no artifacts this deep to light the way.

“Can’t we go back up?” I ask. “I’d love to get another look at the big cavern.”

“It’s all picked over. Trust me, there’s nothing there.”

A faint light gleams from below the basket, bleeding through the slats we stand upon. It grows brighter as the basket lurches farther down, and the well opens up wider. A crystal egg gives off faint light, illuminating the newest tunnel and showing more ropes off to the side and what looks like a side tunnel.

“Everyone hold on,” Magpie says. “This next part requires some skill.”

She pulls a giant staff from the side of the basket. There’s a hook on the end of it, and she maneuvers it out to the ropes dangling nearby. When she hooks it, she pulls hard, and we surge forward to the lip of the side tunnel. Everyone clings to the edges of the basket, but I’m relieved to note that we stop descending, and Magpie slowly pulls us toward the side.

Once we’re close enough, I see additional rope loops hanging from the walls, and at her indication, we reach for them. With a few more tugs, we manage to pull the basket onto the edge of the platform of the side tunnel.

“Everyone out! Don’t forget your gear.” Magpie sounds cheerful, as if she has great affection for the tunnels. I can’t blame her. I’m excited to explore down below. Who knows what wonders we’re going to see? Anticipation makes me twitchy, and I almost leap out of the basket after Lark, eager to get started.

One by one, we get into the tunnel and have a look around. It’s one of the smaller tunnels that we’ve passed and yet it’s still large enough that Mereden could stand on my shoulders and not touch the ceiling. There are layers of rock here, the walls striped horizontally with different layers of sediment, but it’s all been cleared enough that we can walk comfortably.

“Formations please,” Magpie calls out, and then makes a strange noise.

“Did you just belch?” Lark asks her, suspicious.

“No.”

Gwenna nudges me, an “I told you so” look in her eyes.

Great. She’s drinking, and that means we’re probably on our own with barely enough training. I wish Hawk were here. He can yell at me all he wants—I just feel safe when he’s around.

But he’s not here, and we’ve got to make the best of things until we get back to the surface. I’m torn between wanting to find something so we can emerge in triumph…and not wanting to find anything at all, because fuck Barnabus.

“Formation,” I echo. “All right, should we tie ourselves together now? The sword goes at the front of the line, right?”

“No need to tie yet. See that rope?” Magpie moves to the wall and tugs on something I’d missed—there’s indeed a rope bolted to the wall here, spaced-out metal hooks holding it in place. “Once we run out of handrails, then we’ll be in proper digging territory. Then you can rope yourselves together.”

“So this isn’t where we’re digging?” Gwenna asks.

Magpie laughs. “Oh, gods no. This is the entrance. We’ve got to go much deeper in if we expect to find anything at all. It’ll take a few hours to get to where we’re headed.”

Instead of being dismayed, I’m rather excited. Several hours means a lot of ruins to view. I’ll take it. Kipp trots ahead of me and I take myplace behind him in formation, as the bulwark. The shield I’ve been assigned is still strapped to my back, holding my pack in place, but I guess we get that one out when we tie together? It feels strange to have to trust Magpie…and I come to the realization that I don’t really trust her at all.

That’s depressing. My childhood hero is utterly tarnished.

Nothing to do about it now. I grab the rope on the wall—and squeal in disgust because it’s damp and feels gross to the touch. Mereden also makes an unhappy noise about the rope. “It’s wet!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Magpie chides. “You’ll be wishing for that rope in a few hours.”

TWENTY-FIVE

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