The Fickle Winds of Autumn

“Well,” said Ellis, “there’s no point in trying to dig our way back out through the entrance - we could never shift those boulders.”

“And in any case,” Aldwyn added, “that would just leave us stuck at the top of a huge cliff, behind a waterfall, with no obvious way down to safety.”

“We’d better explore and start looking for another way out, then,” said Kira. “Harath wouldn’t have wanted us to get this far, only to fail now.”

“Then we should start moving,” Aldwyn suggested. “My old bones will seize up if we stay here much longer. The cave seems to be much darker over in this direction - perhaps there’s a way out further back here?”

Kira stared softly at the mound of stones covering her friend; her sorrowful heart knew there was no more to be done here - as cruel as it seemed, it was time to move.

She closed her eyes and lightly rested her hand on the damp rocks. She had not had many friends in her life - and understood their true value.

The loss of Harath was a bitter blow, but she must summon the will to continue living - even without her brave friend alongside her.

“Courage!” she whispered to herself and turned to crawl back over towards Aldwyn.

The roof of the cave was a bit higher near the far wall, and the cramped pain of the stones digging into her vulnerable knees compelled her to risk standing and trusting her weight to her sore ankle.

She levered herself up; the grateful blood rushed down into her numbed legs. Although the shortest of the group, she still had to stoop her head and crane her neck at an uncomfortable angle. She paused to allow her body to recover and adjust.

Her limbs and clothes, like those of the other two, glowed with smeared blotches of the luminescent algae.

The curious mottled stains floated and moved and betrayed her friends’ positions.

She cautiously felt her way with uncertain feet towards the darker area near the back of the cave; the loose rocks wobbled and rattled beneath her weight, their echoes rippled sharply around the tight cavern.

“Well, at least there is some cave here to explore,” said Aldwyn from just in front of her. “It doesn’t just come to an abrupt end.”

“Yes, but it’s much darker back here,” said Ellis.

“Mmm, away from the spray of the waterfall, the rock probably isn’t moist enough for the algae to thrive, so we’ll have to do without its guiding luminescence from now on,” said Aldwyn.

Kira scraped slowly forward into the empty blackness. Her thoughts wrestled and writhed - they did not want to leave the pale comforting glow of the algae - or the final resting place of Harath.

But Aldwyn was right - she couldn’t allow Harath’s sacrifice to be for nothing - they must press on and hope to find a way out.

A little further into the murky dimness, the cave floor cleared of debris, and became flatter and smoother; she could stand upright and began to trust her feet, but was still cautious not to become over-confident.

She shuffled into the prowling gloom.

The rumble of the waterfall died away; only the anxiety of her own breath, and the blood pumping through her watchful ears, disturbed the cold empty silence which clung tightly to her.

“The rest of the cave just seems to be an endless wall of black,” Ellis whispered.

Her tense shoulders were relieved to hear another human sound in the thick depths of the void.

“Let’s just be grateful that there is a ’rest of the cave’ and keep moving carefully,” Aldwyn replied.

Kira crept forward with meagre, nervous half-steps; the overwhelming gloom swallowed up the shifting, animated, purple-blue patches of her friends. She spread her hands out in front and tried to concentrate on the sound and direction of their footsteps.

“Kira? Are you still there?” Ellis asked in a hushed whisper from somewhere off to her left.

“Yes,” she whispered back.

“Aldwyn, are you keeping up?” he asked.

“Yes, of course - I’m fine,” Aldwyn replied with an annoyed tone.

“Why are we whispering?” Kira asked.

“I don’t know - it just seems the right thing to do,” Ellis said. “Besides, we don’t know what’s out there in front of us - we don’t want to startle or alert anything, or wake it up any beast who had been settling down to hibernate for the winter,” he concluded.

“I would have thought that the huge, shattering collapse of the cliff-face would have achieved that by now,” said Aldwyn.NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

“Well - no point in taking any extra risks,” replied Ellis. “But listen - our footsteps seem to be making a much longer echo now - so we must be in a much larger cavern than before.”

“Yes,” said Aldwyn, “even my old ears had noticed that.”

Kira advanced a little way further; the echo of her steps bounced back faster and closer than before. She stretched out her arms further into the un-see-able darkness and moved slowly. Her startled fingers brushed an unexpected surface; she yanked them back, alarmed at the contact; her wary senses told her it was just the blank side of the cave. She flexed her hands back out and touched the smooth stone surface.

“I’m near a wall,” she said to the others.

Aldwyn’s steps shuffled close beside her.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m there now too. From the smoothness of its surface, it seems that the cave might have caused by a lava flow long ago - or it might even have been the original route of the waterfall that we have just passed through. In either case, there’s a chance that time and Nature might have worn away an exit downhill for us somewhere - in any case, we have little choice but to press on.”

An expectant pulse rippled through the nervous whispering gloom.

Perhaps there was hope?

Perhaps there truly was a way down from the mountain, and they would be saved?

Kira fought to steady her rising emotions - they were not out of this yet, and a false hope can be worse than none at all - like the times she had hoped it would be pikelets for breakfast - only to discover it was gruel.

She shuffled forward; her inquisitive fingers and feet explored and probed along the wall for a way forward, a hope, a chance to escape from the all-encompassing black of the cave and the trapped endless silence. The steady, rhythmical breath of Aldwyn hummed just behind her; Ellis’s footsteps tapped next to him. Her cautious ears scanned and strained against the unseen darkness; her acute eyes struggled and searched through the bleak, airless hollow of the cavern.

She tried to concentrate on the task before her - her own life, and that of her companions, may well depend on it - but the smoothed rock tickled the soft pads of her fingertips; it called and reminisced with her, bringing images of the worn, old walls of the convent corridors; the routes and cloistered passageways, the chapel and the dormitories she had memorised and travelled through ever since she could remember being able to walk.

Deft glimpses of her of her old life flashed and circled through the unceasing dark - the dim yellow tallow lights, the high perfume of the incense, the clanging echo of the Great Bell.

Her fractured thoughts questioned if she really wanted to return to that.

The strict rules; the hard stares from the nuns she had inadvertently annoyed?

But at least the Venerated Convent of the Sinless Moon provided a rhythm and a certainty - as well as regular meal times - not to mention the occasional breakfast of good honeyed pikelets.

Her hollow stomach rumbled and reminded her that she had not eaten for several days.

The others must have heard it.

Her guilty cheeks flushed with warm embarrassment.

She turned to apologise to her companions, but her fingers slid off a sharp unexpected edge of the wall; she stumbled and lurched around a corner, shocked out of her daydreams.

“Stop!” she said as she turned to Aldwyn. “There’s something here. Or rather, there’s something not here - it’s a gap of some sort - perhaps it’s the way out?”

Aldwyn’s rough hands reached past her and rasped at the stone.

“Yes,” he said, “the wall ends abruptly here and turns a corner. If my estimates are correct, this cavern is shaped rather like one of my old funnels. We’re now in a wide anti-chamber, and I’ll bet my old bones this is the entrance to a narrower tunnel and perhaps our way out.”

“Then we should follow this new passage?” asked Kira.

“Yes, I think we should take that chance,” Aldwyn replied. “Stay close to the wall as we’ve just done, and if it turns out to be a dead end, we can always turn around and find our way back.”

“Don’t say ’dead end’!” Ellis complained.

“No - let’s hope it’s a living end,” Kira agreed.

Her fingertips followed the corner - it was slightly rougher and more pitted than before - but perhaps this change in texture might be a sign that they were making progress towards the hope of an exit?

She cautiously felt for each step through the empty blackness; the echoes of her movements closed in on her from either side; the floor began to lower in a steep descent, drawing her down into a much narrower, more compressed passageway.

The sound of her companions’ footsteps and whispers no longer bounced overhead, but came straight back to her, flat and immediate; her other arm stretched out into the darkness and brushed against the cold stones.

“I can touch both walls here,” she whispered. “We can only continue in single file from now on.”

“I’d better go first then,” said Ellis, “just in case…”.

His steps scuffled towards her and his hand touched her shoulder.

“No.” said Kira. “I’ll be fine.”

She shrugged him away, but the ring of her own words, stark and clear in the blinding gloom, seemed to reverberate with a confidence she was not certain she possessed.

Perhaps Harath had been right?

Perhaps she truly was a strong queen?

Or perhaps her friend’s feather, tucked into her tunic, had lent her its courage?

She moved off before her companions had the chance to argue or push past - and before her own self-assurance had the opportunity dither, and change its mind, and become self-doubt.

The dark stones reached out and lightly caressed her fingers and told their gentle stories to her accustomed judgement; she carefully read their mute clues for twists and inclines in the tunnel. The familiar reassurance of being enclosed within the cradling stone walls relaxed through her.

And there were no nuns to bump into, no lessons to be late for, and no need to be afraid of falling up into the Greatness of the vast Sky.

Ellis’s footsteps echoed close behind, while Aldwyn’s now brought up the rear. The soft rocks refused to threaten her - warmed by the knowledge of her friends were near.

She allowed a pleasant and novel sensation of responsibility to ruffle through her.

Perhaps she could finally prove her worth to her companions, after all the kindness they had already shown to her?

Perhaps she had finally discovered the Surrounder’s Great Plan for her? The true purpose in her life?

The exasperated nuns and the dusty scrolls had always predicted that each of us would have their own special part to play.

She would lead them to safety - she would protect them from whatever dangers the tight, sinister darkness might bring.

Not just the twisting, falling rocks, but perhaps a glowing pair of hungry eyes, belonging to some ravenous and fiendish demon, might loom up ahead of them.

Hadn’t she already faced the full fury of an angry nun when she had been caught late for her lessons?

What could be more daunting or dangerous than that?

“Slow down!” Ellis whispered behind her. “It’s not a race!”

The closeness of his voice jolted her out of her drifting thoughts.

“Oh yes! Sorry!” she replied and stretched her hands out again to walk cautiously into the unknowing darkness of the tunnel.