PURSED HIS lips. “I should have known when I was replenishing the ghosts’ book and saw through the young Chthonic’s eyes. I knew the Chthonic’s thoughts; I knew that the Chthonic people first emerged from the underworld up there.”
He nodded out the window toward Starhaven. “They came out of a cave high up on the rockface. I learned that the Chthonics protected themselves from the attacks of an older race they called the blueskins by filling the cave mouth with powerful metaspells. And the blueskins filled the cave mouth with tortoise-like constructs.”
“But we know this,” Deirdre said. “You saw in a later vision that the Chthonics had collapsed the cave.”
Nicodemus looked back at the avatar. “I saw that the cave was gone, but the Chthonic whose eyes I was seeing through never thought about the cave. His mind was preoccupied by the human army laying siege to Starhaven.”
“The cave wasn’t closed?” Shannon asked.
Nicodemus shook his head. “And Fellwroth’s true body lies in that cave. In a dream I saw ivy—representing the Chthonic metaspell—and the turtles—representing the blueskin constructs—attacking Fellwroth’s body.They must represent the ancient spells still resisting Fellwroth’s intrusion into the cave.”
Shannon made a low, disapproving sound. “But we know that Starhaven’s Chthonic metaspells prevent Fellwroth from creating a golem within the stronghold’s walls.”
Nicodemus clenched his fists. “But the cave isn’t within Starhaven’s walls. The cave is filled with metaspells much older than those in Starhaven.”
He turned to Deirdre. “Boann’s ark is also in that cave. I saw it in my dream standing behind Fellwroth’s body in the second nightmare. I didn’t know what it was at the time. But just now, Deirdre, when you described it to me, I realized what it must be.”
“So the cave is hidden?” John asked slowly. “Some ancient spell opens the mountain?”
Nicodemus shook his head. “Think of the Spindle’s shape. All other Chthonic bridges are thin and flat. The Spindle is as round as a tree bough. And when we walked on it, our footsteps echoed. Remember, Magister, the racket the sentinels made when marching toward us? And, Deirdre, what did it sound like when the war-weight gargoyle walked on the Spindle’s landing?”
She nodded. “Like a drum…like the sound was moving down the bridge.”
“Exactly,” Nicodemus said. “And in one of my nightmares, I was moving through a tunnel that ended in the chamber with Fellwroth’s body. When I was going down that tunnel, I heard my own voice talking to Magister about the Chthonic carvings. I heard that voice pass above me.”
“So the Spindle Bridge—” Shannon started to say.
“Isn’t a bridge at all,” Nicodemus finished. “It’s a tunnel. The wizards haven’t found anything in the mountain face because they’re searching only the rock in front of them. Don’t you see? The tunnel covers the cave’s mouth.”
Deirdre was nodding, but Shannon and John still wore frowns.
“It makes perfect sense,” Nicodemus insisted. “The Chthonic languages deconstruct in sunlight. And while the Chthonic people could tolerate sunlight, their blueskinned ancestors could not. The Spindle Tunnel must have been a diplomatic structure—a place where the Chthonics could meet the blueskins in darkness.” He snatched the Index out of its orbit.
“Here, I’ll find a mundane text that…” He began to undo the book’s clasp.
“No, no,” Shannon said. “I don’t doubt your logic; I simply wonder what we do with the information.”
Deirdre spoke quickly. “We do exactly what the boy suggested. We cut our way into the Spindle and tear Fellwroth’s body to pieces while the fiend’s mind is still in the golem.”
“Is the Fool’s Ladder still in place?” Nicodemus asked. “If we hike around to the back of Starhaven, could it take us up to the Spindle’s landing?”
The grand wizard scowled. “It could, but this plan is too dangerous. What if Fellwroth is not in his golem?”
“Running wouldn’t be safer,” Nicodemus insisted. “Fellwroth can follow me because of my keloid scars. And, Magister, my dreams were sent to me by the emerald. It wants to be rescued.”
Shannon shook his head. “Nicodemus, you and I are linguists, not sentinels.”
Deirdre rested a hand on Shannon’s shoulder. “Only this plan will rescue my goddess’s ark. It is the only one I will accept.”
Nicodemus closed his eyes. “It is the only plan that will recover the emerald.” He opened his eyes and stared at Shannon. “And it is the only plan that will disspell your curse.”
“And me,” said John. “It is the only plan I will accept.”
All eyes turned to the big man.
“For decades, I lived under the demon’s curse. If I have