Page 128 of The Cradle of Ice
“I still don’t understand,” Frell said.
“Look beyond the lake,” Kanthe whispered. “On the other side of the cave.”
He squinted—then saw it, too. A vague blue glow winked out in the darkness, waxing and waning. The light washed in waves over the still waters below.
“Something’s definitely over there,” Pratik said.
Kanthe nodded. “Must be the Sleeper.”
“Or some other threat. We’d best proceed with caution.” Frell lifted the shutters from his lantern. Despite his urging of restraint, excitement and anticipation pushed back his weariness and concern. He headed down into the cavern, leading the way. “Watch your footing. The slope is slick.”
He picked his way down, only to have Kanthe, Cassta, and Rami go sliding past him, their arms out for balance, skating smoothly down the wet rock. They reached the bottom while Frell was barely a quarter of the way down.
“Wait there!” he called to them.
Frell and Pratik took care, while the Guld’guhlian brothers slid on their backsides to join Kanthe’s group. Once together again, they rounded the edge of the lake and closed in on the area of the glow.
As they neared it, the source became clear. A huge copper egg lay half imbedded in the wall. Two curved doors were parted and lifted high, like a pair of metal wings. The light came from inside, pulsing with the regularity of a heartbeat. The bitter tang in the air grew strong, nearly stinging.
They all drew to a stop.
“It’s just like Rhaif described,” Kanthe extolled with awe.
“Not entirely,” Frell said. “According to his story of Shiya’s discovery, her copper shell had appeared to be torn open. Ruptured and burnt at the edges. As if something had gone awry with her awakening, possibly damaging her in the process. Whereas this looks intact.”
Kanthe started forward.
“Proceed with caution,” Frell warned everyone. “We don’t know what to expect if we try to waken the Sleeper buried here.”
They moved together, shoulder to shoulder. The glow grew brighter as they reached the winged doorway. Frell had to shade his eyes when that light waxed to its fullest.
Kanthe shifted ahead, reaching the threshold first—then stumbled back with a gasp. He grabbed Frell’s arm, frantic, too shocked to speak.
Worried, Frell broke free of his grasp and pushed forward. The others crowded at his shoulders. He stared at what that blue glow illuminated.
“It can’t be…” Frell moaned.
Pratik shook his head in disbelief.
The brothers swore loudly.
Ahead of them, the inside of the egg was in ruins. Glass piping had been shattered into shards across the floor, stuck in pools of dried alchymicals. Copper tanks had been dented to scrap. Even the shell’s inner walls hung crookedly.
At the back, a tall crystal cradle—like the crib where Rhaif had first spotted Shiya—lay sideways across the far wall, its lower half crushed to pieces.
But that wasn’t the worst of it.
The damaged cradle was empty—and the reason lay at their feet.
Sprawled amidst the wreckage was a charred bronze body. That of a man. His head had been caved in, his limbs torn from his torso. Even his chest had been hammered deep in several spots.
“The Sleeper…” Frell gasped out with despair. “It’s been destroyed.”
50
KANTHE STEPPED GINGERLY into the copper egg. He kept his shoulders hunched, as if fearful of being attacked by the Sleeper’s ghost for his trespass. Still, each time he placed a boot down, glass crunched loudly. He winced at the noise but kept going.
“What are you doing?” Frell called from the entrance.
