flashed through his mind.
The First People traded their wings so that we may fish in the rivers and farm in the fields…
Something caught Pim’s attention. The First People, the Mulcavrii, were the only ones at the time with wings, but they were not the only people to exist. Others came come along. How would one keep intruders out? Using what makes you unique, gifted. All the various races of Athora were gifted in one way or another.
“I think I know,” Pim said, rising to his feet. All eyes turned to him. “The carving of the Mulcavrii…” he pointed up at it. “It might contain a secret lever or key. The First People could fly—they would be the only ones to reach that carving… an inventive way of keeping strangers out.”
“Brilliant!” Shannara said with a laugh. “But we have no wings in the group now, nor do any of you. How do we reach the carving?”
Pim turned to Drith.
Drith rolled his eyes. “Very clever, Wivering, you wish to make use of my gift. So be it.” He walked over the face of the mountain and scaled the gate. He climbed with ease, clinging to the rocky edifice like a spider. He crawled to the carving of the winged humanoid, and searched it with his hands.
For a few moments, it seemed fruitless, but finally, Drith pressed the carving’s forehead, and a piece of it sunk in.
The gate yawned open with a rumble, stretching a curtain of cobwebs across its opening. Drith dropped to his feet without a misstep, and returned to his guard.
“Well done, my friend!” Tolan patted Pim on his back, and then tussled his hair. “Come, history awaits.” He fished around the packs on his horse, and fetched some torches and flint. He threw one to Pim, one to Drith, and kept one for himself.
They fastened their horses to a single skeletal tree, and moved toward the dark opening: a jagged slice in the side of the mountain.
Pim scratched the flint against the stone wall, and sparks fell to his torch, igniting it. A hot, rancid breeze washed over his face as they moved into the mountain. The cave walls were moist. Dripping sounds resonated in the distance.
The gate closed behind them after they’d all passed through it. Shannara drew her twin blades, and the others followed suit. The passageway, with its smooth floors and walls, twisted and turned, ascending higher and higher within the mountain.
The group walked through a great arch carved with strange runes and more figures with wings. The stone of the arch glittered in the torchlight; it was unlike anything Pim had ever seen. He wanted to touch it, and even reached his hand out, but reconsidered and pulled back at the last minute.
Shadows writhed on the walls and ceiling, seeming alive.
They came to a small landing with double archways. Darkness swelled beyond them; it was colder. He looked all around him, waiting for cues from Tolan, Shannara, and Drith. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he noticed something move above him. As he looked up and lifted his torch, the ceiling shifted.
Terror gripped him. His heart lurched into his throat, and he gasped. Drith’s guard rushed to Pim and shoved him out of the way as a jelly mass dropped from the ceiling.
The ochre-colored, flesh-eating jelly covered Drith’s guard. His scream drowned in a gargle as his skin melted, and his muscles dissolved. The jelly devoured the man’s body and liquefied every part.
The others looked on in horror as he sank into oblivion and the jelly spread out on the floor. A pair of fleshless arms reached one last time from the center of the slick.
Tolan lunged at the jelly and swung his torch at it. The creature blazed with crackling fire and slithered past the warrior, through the archways into the darkness.
Pim watched the light of the flames from his spot on the floor. They grew weaker and weaker until they dropped off, altogether. Pim saw Tolan’s hand reach down in front of him. The stunned Wivering managed to shake himself back to reality and take it. “He saved my life.”
“And now I have no guard,” Drith said.
“I will guard you,” Pim said. He moved to Drith and pushed his sword into the floor before him. “I owe it to your guard.”
“Spare me your drivel, Wivering.” Drith dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “You cannot hope to protect me. You are much too young and inexperienced. Your battle skills