The Weaver's Source

Chapter 91

No-Tongue nodded sharply once before he pulled himself into the hole and slowly went down the ladder. I waited only for a moment before I followed. At first I was scared. The iron was cold and damp beneath my skin and I couldn't see anything below me apart from darkness. I didn't know how far down I had to go and I didn't feel at all safe on the ladder. But Nanat needed me. I swallowed down my terror of falling and slowly began my descent.

I couldn't hear much when I reached the bottom. The sound of water was the only thing that vibrated in the air, oddly warm and thick. There was no light, just darkness, and I would've worried about falling if No-Tongue hadn't grabbed hold of my waist and gently guided me to the floor. Once settled, I felt a small burst of magic and a tiny ball of wards appeared in his bony hands, creating a gentle light.

His eyes flickered down to me expectantly. I breathed in fearfully as I pointed right and looked down the grimy dank tunnel.

"That way."

No-Tongue grasped my hand, opening my palm gently and placed the ward against my gloved hand. It hovered there and gave off no heat, just pulsed with light as it clung to my hand with tiny little pale tendrils. As I clasped our light, he drew out a long mean looking knife. It wasn't like Ursus, which was long and thick with a black hot blade and charms in its leather handle. It was pale in colour, terribly thin and long. I noticed he had another strapped to his waist, still held by its sheath.

We made our way down the narrow path. I was kept close to the wall and away from the black water that was almost over flowing from its stone ditch. I felt droplets spray against my face and the wall was wet and mossy as I swept my palm against it.

I took us deeper, turning right and left through forks and turnings. The canals of the spring was a maze and I was quick to lose my sense of direction. But my magic still sensed Nanat. It continued to guide me, holding my hand and pulling me through the darkness. No-Tongue never left my side and never sheathed his short sword.

After what seemed like an age, my impulse began to throb louder, like a thick heartbeat in my head. My magic also began to shiver more, curling up in my chest. I felt something else from it, not its usual need to feed Grigore or keep him safe, instead there was a need to help Nanat.

No-Tongue stopped me before another fork. The tunnel we had been following ended here and split into two directions. It was here the impulse was the strongest. As I peered into the darkness with No-Tongue keeping close, I saw a door over the other side of the spring's waters. A very familiar door.

"It's over there. I remember that door from the dream."

No-Tongue scowled across the moat, eyeing it up carefully, before he sheathed his weapon and bundled me into his arms. In one great bound he was across, landing smoothly on the other side and a few feet from the door. He placed me down and shoved me behind him as he drew his blade again and listened. After a moment, he looked down at me inquiringly.

"The magic is scared but no more than it has been. I don't think anything is in there." That pleased me. I wanted to get Nanat and then get out. Lingering wasn't an option.

I followed No-Tongue as he made his way closer to the wall, gripping his short sword tightly. Once he reached the door, he simply placed his palm against the wood and let a light glow. It dimmed slowly and he entered without any rush or alarm, holding the door open for me.

It was as I had dreamt. The room was circular, tiny in diameter, with water rushing beneath the grates lining the grey floor. Only now there were a few crates piled in the corner and it looked far less intimidating. As I glanced about the room, I noticed something missing.