Chapter 47: 46. The Cache

Corvo played with the glass rider at the river’s banks. Its round head caught the magelight like a prism as the horse took heavy steps through the sand, going to this place or that when directed by a finger.

Shouting voices echoed past him. He tried not to listen to what he couldn’t help but hear. He pretended not to notice what happened beyond his averted eyes, and instead focused on playing.

But he couldn’t distract himself forever. Not even with a toy as magnificent as the glass rider. He looked up and listened eventually.

Dorian stood with a hand on his sword near the bridge. He kept his back to Corvo, but sometimes he glanced over his shoulder at him, making sure he was still safe.

Past him was Trito, spear leaned against his chest. Trito stood still and gazed onward blankly.

Then there was Aletheia. She moved back and forth, speaking rarely, but Corvo could tell that she was upset. Everyone was upset, but Aletheia especially.

And then there was Mother. She barely moved. She stood still as she faced down Elysia, Deror, and two other elves. She gazed up into their eyes as though she were taller than them, staff in-hand, never moving an inch.

Elysia stared back at her, and they both yelled:

“Nothing about Astera was negotiated when we made our arrangement,” Mother said. “We will do as we said we would and no more. You will not take her from us.”

“We’ll do as we please,” Elysia said. “Your staff means nothing compared to a dozen enchanted arrows.”

“Harm us, or threaten us again, and you will never see your cache opened,” Mother said.

“Fail to open the cache, and you’ll never see the sun again,” Elysia said.

“That is enough!” Mother raised her staff.

Aletheia stepped up beside Mother. “Stop! We don’t need to fight!”

Elysia spat. “You aren’t leaving this place, human, not until you—”

“Silence,” Deror’s voice boomed. He raised a hand and lowered it in front of Elysia, pushing her away from Mother by an inch. “What Aletheia chooses to do is Aletheia’s choice. We cannot force her to return Astera to us, and nor should we wish to.”

Elysia grabbed hold of his robed sleeve. “Elder! You can’t let her go! She—”

Deror made a gesture with his hand. The grass at Corvo’s side glowed silver, but its color drained for a flash before returning again.

Elysia blinked. Her voice stopped, and she stumbled backward. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“Silence,” Deror said. “You have spoken. Now you will let me.”

She glared at him, almost striking out with coiled muscles like a snake, but restrained herself. Her head shook, and she stormed off toward the village.

Deror sighed. But he regarded Aletheia.

“Is this your choice?” he asked.

Aletheia nodded. “Yes.”

“Is it truly?”

“She has told you what she thinks,” Mother said. “The matter is settled.”

Deror did nothing. Corvo looked away. He didn’t fear for his own safety, or even that of the others, because the fighting always seemed to go their way in the end. That they wouldn’t all be okay after a battle seemed impossible. But he still hated how scared it made him to watch conflict brewing, and how he would have to run or hide and stay away from Mother until all was made safe again. That was what he really feared.

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But the tension in the air, so close to snapping a moment prior, fizzled into calm again. Deror nodded.

“Then the matter is settled. I will show you to this cache, and then you will depart with no further harry from my Huntresses.”

“That arrangement we shall abide,” Mother said. “Lead us forth.”

With that Dorian turned for good. He grabbed Corvo and lifted him up. “Come on, chicklet. That’s it for playtime.”

Trito regarded the party as they gathered to depart.

“I cannot come with you to this place,” he said. “Only humans may enter the vault, and it will only open for a magician. You must face this challenge alone.”

“We have faced many challenges without your help before,” Mother said. “Do as you will.”

“I will stay in the village. And I believe you should leave Corvo with me.”

Mother donned her chainmail coat. Then she glared at him.

“No.”

“To which?”

“To both,” she said. “I will not leave my son in your hands, elf, nor will I risk abandoning him in this village. I do not trust Elysia to refrain from doing something insane, if tempted.”

“There may be other dangers on this expedition. Dangers you should not wish a child to confront.”

“There is always danger,” Mother said. “He will stay with me.”

“Eris,” Aletheia said. “Maybe he’s right. Or I could stay with the two of them, or Dorian.”

“I’ll watch the boy if it’s not safe,” Dorian said. “Some good I am in a fight in this place anyway.”

Mother put a hand on Corvo’s shoulder and held him close. She watched Trito carefully. She was never so quiet unless she was thinking, but eventually she shook her head.

“We may need the three of us together. And I do not trust my son in an elf’s ward. Any elf. They do not see the value in children’s lives as men do.”

“You forget that I was once human,” Trito said. “But the decision is yours to make. I will wait here until you return.”

The journey took them back into the forest, past the river, and toward a rocky ridge that rose above the canopy. The rocks that reached so far into the sky were illuminated by nothing but stars from above, yet the forest glowed around them, casting long and sharp shadows up the ridge’s side.

Deror led the way. Mother never let Corvo leave her side. To him the trek felt like ten hours, but it couldn’t have been more than two.

The forest cracked and groaned to his left and right the whole time through.

“We should have left him at the village,” Dorian said to Mother. “Trito’s trustworthy enough for that.”

“The forest may be dangerous, but it is at least predictably so,” Mother replied. She said nothing further.

Deror approached a place in the ridge where a broad and flat wall extended beneath several overhanging boulders. Purple vines hung down on it from above.

“This is the place,” he said.

He put his hand to the wall. A word of magic left his lips.

The wall slowly disappeared.

It started at its top, where a boulder cast its shadow. The weathered stone unraveled, peeling away like a serpent’s skin, vanishing as it revealed a long and dark corridor into the earth. Soon no wall was left at all.

It looked to be a cave. Around the arch of its mouth were inscribed runes that glowed pink, but their meaning was lost on Corvo.

“You have concealed this place?” Mother asked Deror.

“I have,” Deror said.

“Yet it cannot be accessed except by humans.”

“There are humans in Seneria,” he said. “Often they are slaves to our orcish kinsmen. Some are adventurers, or pirates. Rarely are they allies of ours.”

“What are you looking for?” Aletheia asked. “What’s inside?”

Deror reached his hand into the mouth. When his fingers breached the darkness, a light began to sizzle around them. His pale skin flared green. Smoke trailed from his thumb, and he withdrew himself.

“I do not know. I have never been permitted inside. Yet there are many such vaults in Seneria, left by the Magisters, where objects of power are stored. Once you have breached its vault, the spell that keeps elves away will dissipate. That is all we ask of you.”

“Why would the Magisters leave a spell to keep out elves?” Aletheia asked. “If there were no elves. If the Magisters became the elves. Why?”

Mother watched Deror carefully. Without looking from him, she said, “It is not for keeping out elves. It is for keeping out demons.”

Deror smiled. “Quite right. Quite right. Well. I will be waiting.” He gestured ahead.

Mother sighed. But she nodded, took hold of Corvo’s hand, and stepped into the mouth—and past the pink runes.

Nothing felt different to Corvo. Mother’s skin didn’t begin to sizzle. Dorian followed, and then Aletheia, but nothing more than that happened.

They entered a long, dark tunnel forward. Mother’s magelight followed and illuminated the confines.

Soon the narrow, sharp-walled cave straightened at the sides and broadened at the roof. Then they found themselves in a corridor that stretched deep into the ridge and under the earth.

When they were out of Deror’s earshot, Dorian asked, “Do you think he’s telling the truth about this place?”

“You ask such questions often, old man,” Mother said. “You may presume the answer is always ‘no’.”