EPISODE THIRTY-FOUR:
A SHADOWED TRAIL
The march north along the river was quiet for a few hours. True to her word, Cass had gone silent. Vash didn’t have a sense of where she was or what she was doing, but his thoughts were his own again. He really didn’t know what to think about his ‘passenger’. Domus Enrick, the cleric of the little temple that served Durron’s Ford, would often rail about the Drae, demons of the shadow, taking hold and possessing wicked souls. Enrick had a habit of counseling Vash’s guardian, Sam, about the warning signs of a shadow-touched soul. This had led to several long talks about the dangers his half-blood soul was in, and the need for repentance and absolution.
. Vash thought.
Sam had meant well, in his own foolish and easily manipulated way. Vash couldn’t fault him too much for being afraid for the moody young boy’s soul. Vash’s mother, Mari, had died of the Rose Fever when he was only eight. Brother Enrick’s distaste for the mixing of the races led to Mari’s ostracization by the good people of Durron’s Ford.
Only Nora Walker, Corwin’s mother, had any compassion for Mari. They were childhood friends, and Nora knew the entire story of how Vash came to be. Nora gave some of her sewing jobs to Mari to help with money. Vash spent many days on the Walker farm helping with a variety of chores for a copper piece here and there. Nora had been kind to him, if a bit distant. She was on the edge of polite society in Durron’s Ford as well, and couldn’t afford to anger the temple-going crowd.
Corwin’s father, Marcus, had died during Duke Raef’s War when Corwin and Vash had been small. The surviving levies that had returned from that foolish conflict between two greedy Dukes had reported that Marcus died from an arrow to the back while fleeing. This claim of cowardice tainted the entire Walker family. Never mind that the levies who had fought for Duke Raef, the losing side of that war, and survived must have broken and run during the few brief battles. All that mattered was that these men made the accusation. After that, offers of help during planting and harvest had dried up. The stores in town stopped offering credit and refused to haggle or bargain. Enrick relegated the family to the back rows of the temple, and often preached pointed sermons about duty and courage, using the family as an example.
When the Rose Fever swept through Durron’s Ford, that distance from the rest of the village at least kept the Walkers from suffering any more tragedy. Mari Ballard, however, made a living as a seamstress and often had to go begging for work. She had caught the fever early in the pandemic, with no extra money for healing elixirs. Let alone a cleric’s rite, Mari succumbed quickly.
Brother Enrick included her in the funeral rites of several who had died from the fever. Most of the others were boat hands from the trader barges, or vagrants who contracted the fever while passing through. Vash remembered standing alone at the lip of the grave, looking down at the six or seven bodies wrapped in coarse linen shrouds. He had been distraught because he couldn’t tell which one was his mother. One of gravediggers, a sullen drunkard named Hal, told him to stop sniveling because “she weren’t worth the tears.”
That was the first time he got into trouble for attacking someone.
Though Hal had easily fought off the eight-year-old boy, he took some nasty bite wounds and a black eye from a well-thrown stone.
Brother Enrick placed Vash with Sam Fleischer, the town butcher. Sam was a lifelong bachelor who needed an apprentice and absolutely devoted to the temple and service to the gods. Sam hadn’t been a bad sort, but he believed far too much of the venom that Brother Enrick would spew. So Sam would come home after temple and awkwardly try to save Vash’s soul, either through endless chores and labor in the shop, or long, halting readings from , the holy book of the Malconian Temple.
Vash shook his head. It had been a long time since he’d thought about Sam and the old days back in Durron’s Ford. Sam had been so scared that a demon would make him shadow-touched, push him out of the warm comfort of the temple’s embrace.
“He didn’t have to worry about that.” Vash muttered. “So long as he was human and didn’t complain about Brother Enrick, then the temple would love him forever.”
Cass’ voice startled him out of his reverie.
“I thought you were resting?” Vash asked, startled, but trying to seem nonchalant.
Cass said with the impression of a mental shrug.
“Can’t you just read my mind?” Vash said, trying to sound flippant, but his tone came out as worried.
Cass said, sounding like an annoyed parent having to explain something to a skeptical toddler.
“Sorry if I was too…loud?” Vash said, trying to find the right words.
Cass reassured him.
Vash nodded. “Makes sense. We’ve made some good time. This side of the river is flatter and doesn’t have as many obstacles. We are maybe an hour behind Corwin and Jabez at this point.”
“Still following.” Vash said. “They’ve closed the gap considerably, but there seems to be some argument going on. Some of the Scalebacks want to call off the hunt and seem pretty nervous about the caverns that are coming up.”
Cass said, considering the situation.
“I can’t really tell,” Vash said. He was getting more accustomed to looking at things through his Dungeon Sense. Switching between the Scalebacks and Corwin and Jabez was much easier, and he could even get some sense of the surrounding area. He was having trouble looking into the area ahead though. Every time he tried it was a dark, cloudy, blur.
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Cass said, giving the mental impression of a frown.
“Why?”
“I thought this thing only worked because of shadow-tainted Therium?” Vash asked, confused. “What’s the difference?”
Vash considered this. That could have been Zakarias’ intention at the Mossfen Delving. To use the soulstones to boost the connection between the delving’s Dungeon Heart and the shadow itself.
Cass said, gently.
“No, not right now,” Vash said, secretly happy that he had kept something from the voice in his head. “If Jabez and Corwin are heading towards a shadow-controlled Dungeon Heart, what can we do?”
Cass considered this for a moment. Vash could feel her pondering somewhere in the back of his mind.
“Heartstones connect to the Dungeon Heart?” Vash asked, still unsure of how the entire process worked. Cass’ description felt slightly different from the one that Corwin told him.
Cass said. .
“I thought that they only formed because of a shadow taint.” Vash said, trying to wrap his head around everything.
Cass said.
“Why?”
Cass said, as if it was obvious.
Vash felt they were wandering pretty far afield at this point and swung his focus back onto the problem at hand. “So, what can we do now?”
Cass said.
The stone arch stretched from the stalagmites that rose from the rocky shore where Vash stood and faded into the gloom of the opposite bank. It was only a thin stretch of rock, the result of hundreds, maybe thousands of years of water eroding away a larger rock face. Now, the arch was perhaps a hand-width across, and looked incredibly fragile.
Dungeon SenseCass said.
It had taken longer than Vash hoped to get to this place. Massive rock outcroppings and thick forests of stalagmites had forced Vash away from the riverbank and into the mushroom forest. He had worried about moving away from the river again, but his Dungeon Sense had kept him on the right path. Cass had been silent the entire time, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He’d found that so long as he didn’t focus on anything too hard or attach emotion to the thoughts, then they didn’t register with Cass. It was a relief that he could keep some things private without her knowing the method he was using.
Evening was coming on. Vash could feel the glowmoss beginning to dim and close for the night. Fatigue was wearing on him. Even though used a negligible amount of mana, the mental strain of keeping it active was very tiring. He was afraid to let it go, that he’d lose the connection, but that was what Cass told him she wanted him to do.
Cass said.
“You’re sure I can get it back?” Vash asked, hesitant.
Cass said firmly.
Vash took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Mentally, he loosened his grip on and let the connection slip away. He blinked as the mental images vanished from his mind’s eye. It was like suddenly losing vision in one eye. His perspective shifted, and he blinked furiously, trying to get his eyes to focus.
His aura also snapped back into place, suddenly contracting his connection to the world around him slightly. Vash swayed slightly on his feet, resting his hand on a rock to steady himself.
Cass said. Dungeon Sense
The shift in awareness made Vash dizzy and queasy. But he took several deep breaths and slowly the feeling faded. “It would be bad if that happened during a fight.”
Cass assured him.
Vash nodded and opened his eyes. Straightening up, he planted his feet and willed any discomfort to the back of his mind.
Cass said.
Vash hesitated. He remembered Cass’ voice in his dream when he relived the attack on the Duke’s palace. She’d seen who he’d been with, his friends, the techniques they used.
“Maybe we can talk about it when we’ve gotten to know each other better.” Vash said, carefully.
Cass was silent for a moment. Vash felt her pull back slightly. Dungeon Sense
Vash nodded, willing his aura to expand slightly, then reaching out through his connection to the dungeon. His awareness wanted to sink down to the larger Therium deposits below the river, in places further down in the Underlands. Vash pulled himself up, seeking the thin veins that ran through the fragile stone arch. His awareness carefully wound its way through the lattice of connections, arriving on the other side within a few heartbeats.
Cass said.
This time, Vash’s awareness snapped almost directly to Corwin and Jabez. The two of them were setting up camp in a sheltered hollow, protected on three sides by rock. Corwin was handing some rations to Jabez. The dwarf looked tired, older, and moved like he was in a great deal of pain.
“What’s wrong?” Vash wondered out loud.
. Cass said.
Vash saw the same thing. No one had recently changed Jabez’s dressing. They likely didn’t have the supplies needed. The bloodstain in the center now was an unhealthy dark, almost black, color.
“That’s not good.” Vash said. He had no love for the dwarf, but he was his connection to the Wayfarers. Vash wasn’t sure what would happen if his sponsor died. Would he go back to being a wanted vagabond? Would Corwin?
Cass counseled.
Vash shifted his awareness away from the camp and towards the place that was obscured. The area was still hard to see. His vision felt limited, like a fog bank where he could only see a few feet in front of him in any direction. He tried adding a little mana, pushing through the fog by force of will.
Cass admonished.
Vash ignored her. The mana infusion pushed the fog away, leaving his vision dim, but unhindered. The land ahead was a twisting maze of stone columns. Something had carved them in the long past. The design reminded him of the little temple where he’d found Cass. Who would have built such things all the way down there?
Cass said, fear tightening her voice.
“What?” Vash asked. “What is it?”
Cass said.
