Corvan tore up the passage only to find the sneakers empty and Kate nowhere to be seen.

  The toes of the scarecrow’s runners had completely separated from the soles. They gaped at him as if they had something important to tell him but couldn’t get the words out. On the ground behind the runners was a crumpled up waxed bread wrapper. He opened it to see if any crumbs remained, but all he got was the aroma of his mom’s oatmeal cookies, along with a trace of Kate’s lilac perfume.

  He looked down the passage. That meant Kate must have just been here. It was her voice calling out to him when he saw her in the glass.

  “Kate!” he shouted, but the only answer was his echo reverberating back at him from the tunnel leading down. Covering up the hammer’s glow, he stared into the darkness. The rocks along the right side of the passage were tinged with a glow from around the next corner. His first thought was Kate’s flashlight, but the light was a cold, blue color.

  Holstering the hammer, he left the flap open, in case he needed it quickly and crept along the tunnel's side, keeping the larger boulders between himself and the growing light. Feeling his way along the inside wall, he edged past the corner, then approached a lighted gap between two columns of rock. A short distance ahead, a shaft of pale blue light was streaming into the tunnel. It was moonlight! Somehow, after escaping the labyrinth and the buraks cave, he had come all the way down to the level of the river valley.

  Corvan’s heart soared as he sprinted toward the light. Kate must be out as well. They would both be safe and just need to find the mine and ask for a ride home.

  As he drew near he caught sight of a full moon and a few bright stars. He blinked, wondering what the fire stick or the hammer had done to his eyes. The moon was completely blue, without any visible craters, and the stars in the sky pierced the black night with a pink light.

  His pace slowed as he approached the exit— a uniform arch that had been cut into a rock wall. This was not a natural cave, nor was it an entry to a mine. A thick stone door, supported by heavy hinges, hung ajar.

  With his eyes fixed beyond the opening, at what he had thought was the moon, Corvan tripped a loose stone, caught himself on the door, and pushed it closer to the inside wall. A wave of despair crashed over Corvan as he discovered a row of the strange script from his grandfather’s book, carved across the middle of the door. The vast cave in front of him was only more of Tsarek’s Cor. He would have to pass through yet another door and follow Kate deeper into the darkness ahead.

  He was about to move through the open door when angry voices approached from outside. Two men were arguing over who had last checked the door. Ducking behind the thick slab, Corvan slid his body along the wall and closer to the hinges. His pack caught on the curved ceiling, crowding his head forward and pushing his face tight beneath the upper hinge. He was stuck looking directly through wide crack between the door and the jamb. It would be easy for anyone who came close to spot him hiding in the shadows.

  A short, wiry man entered his field of vision, his face shadowed in the hood of a green cloak. Clutched in the man’s hand was a shoulder-high staff. At its top was a carved globe with a dark center. He stopped before the door, shaking his head in amazement. “You’re right. The door is open.”

  An even shorter, stocky man appeared, and a deep voice responded from the depths of his red hooded cloak. “I can see that Tarran, but why is it open? The priests hold the only key, and you are the only priest I know who bothers to come up here.” He folded his arms over his chest.

  Tarran threw back his hood revealing the sharp features of a young man with thick black hair and keen grey eyes. “What are you insinuating, Harmon?”

  The heavyset man didn’t reply.

  Corvan held his breath as Tarran turned away and examined the far side of the door. The person Tsarek had told him to find was just a few paces away, but so was a red cloaked palace guard that Tsarek had warned him to avoid.

  Pulling a notched cylinder on a red cord from around his neck, Tarran twisted it into a hole in the door. Three sturdy bolts clicked out from the doorjamb and when Tarran removed the key, the bolts sank back into the rock.

  The green cloak swished as Tarran crossed over to inspect the hinge side of the door.

  Corvan twisted away to hide his face. His hand touched the hammer and its blue symbols glowed from the bottom of the holster. He quickly yanked his hand away, and the light faded. He looked up into Tarran’s wide eyes.

  “Find something?” Harmon asked.

  “Just checking the hinges,” Tarran said without breaking eye contact with Corvan. “The door was not forced open.” He gestured with his left hand off to the side. “I have seen all I need to see here. Let’s head back down. You can file a report tomorrow.”

  “Too late for that,” Harmon sneered. “I already reported it to the Chief Watcher.”

  Tarran’s eyes widened, and he whirled about to face the stocky man. “You did what?”

  Harmon pointed into the void behind him. “The Chief Watcher is to be informed any time this door is opened. Since it could only be a priest who opened it, I suspected that you wouldn’t tell him anything that might put your friends or your family in jeopardy.”

  Tarran pounded his staff on the ground, and the globe filled with a pale light. “You’re a fool, Harmon. You know little of what is happening. All you care about is how to advance your own career.”

  “What else is there?” Harmon snorted. “With the bad blood between the Watchers, the priests, and the rebels, this is the perfect time to get on the good side of those who have the most power.”

  Tarran pointed the staff at him. “Power is not a toy. Play with power—pay the powerful.”

  Harmon shrugged. “You priests and your proverbs. The way you talk, you’d think you were part of the rebels and not fighting for our own city. Don’t think for a moment that the Palace doesn’t know what you and your father are planning.”

  Tarran stared at the stocky man. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know that Morgan uncovered a plot to overthrow the Palace, and I know that the sources all point to the High Priest.” Harmon turned his back on Tarran and swaggered away.

  Tarran gripped his staff in both hands and took a step toward him.

  Harmon whirled around and pointed along the narrow path just beyond the door. “He’s here,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

  Tarran joined him, and both men stood frozen at attention. Tarran fumbled with the staff, and its light faded away.

  In the thick silence, a series of rhythmic chirps approached. Four different tones made is sound like a quartet of wounded crickets were limping in his direction. The soft slap of bare feet on rock soon overpowered the eerie sound, as four incredibly thin men appeared on the path. A palanquin tent with red curtains was slung below poles on their shoulders.

  The men’s white arms seemed too long and slender to be human. Blue veins pulsed under transparent, glistening skin, reminding Corvan of the pictures he’d seen of cave salamanders that lived all their lives in total darkness. The deep red sleeveless robes accentuated their milky white faces.

  The tallest one, at the front of the poles, turned toward Corvan. The thin white lips pursed, then a blue tongue worked to produce high-pitched chirps as its head scanned from side to side. The manlike creatures were blind and had to navigate like bats, finding their way using only echoes.

  Corvan held his breath and help completely still, hoping the crack would shield him from their search.

  In unison, the blind creatures lowered the box of the palanquin closer to the ground. The embroidered red curtains parted, and a dark body oozed to the ground. Corvan stifled a gasp. It was a lizard somewhat like Tsarek, but much larger—almost Corvan’s own height. Its head bobbed as its thin tongue whipped in and out, tasting the air that flowed from the cavern’s open door. Powerful biceps strained against twisted silver bracers wrapped around each arm. It

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  It moved with measured steps into the doorway. The muscles in its thick legs were bulging and rippling under its scaly black skin, and its powerful biceps strained against twisted silver bracers wrapped around each arm.

  It passed out of Corvan’s line of sight and into the door, then it spoke in a low hiss. Corvan’s blood ran cold. He did not catch what it said through the thick door, but Tarran responded affirmatively.

  Harmon muttered something, but a sharp command from the lizard silenced him.

  The lizard’s snout poked out over the threshold, its nostrils flaring to pull in the scents around it. If it came any closer, it was sure to smell him.

  “Most honorable Chief Watcher,” Tarran said abruptly, “I checked this door personally, and all the seals were intact. I do not know—”

  Harmon pushed Tarran aside. “He lies. I’m the one who found the door open. I’ve been keeping an eye on the priests for you, just as you ordered me. I’m the one who deserves a reward for—”

  A blur shot past Corvan’s hiding place, then the black lizard stood astride of Harmon’s still body. He held his right paw to the dim light, and Corvan could see it was badly deformed. There was only one long curved claw on a small, twisted stump. The lizard’s tongue shot out to taste Harmons blood running down the long claw. The black face wrinkled in distaste, and he stepped off the body, wiped his claw on the dead man’s cloak, then gave the body a contemptuous kick. The creature twisted its sinuous neck to leer at Tarran.

  “Some people don’t know when to be quiet, do they, Tarran? I do not trust those who cannot keep their lipsss ssshut,” The creature hissed while moving closer to Tarran. “I also don’t trust a priessst who cannot keep his door shut. It smells of treason. Perhaps you were looking to start a rumor that the Cor-Van has finally come back to overthrow the palace?”

  Tarran pointed to the keyhole. “The priest’s key was not used. The door must have been opened from the other side by the Portal Watcher.”

  The black body flickered toward Tarran, words spitting past the forked tongue. “If the Portal Watcher had been called, then he would have told me for I am the Chief Watcher of the Cor.”

  The lizard circled the man. “Do not think I am unaware of why the High Priest assigned you to represent the temple as part of my palace guard. He tried the same tactic with Morgan and failed. Morgan was at least smart enough to know when to switch sides but that was not a good outcome for your sister, would you not agree?”

  Tarran stiffened but did not answer. The black form turned back to the door. “What we know for certain is that sssomeone opened this door without informing me.” The lizard extended a claw toward Tarran. “Now, I will take your key.”

  Tarran took a step back. “The key is the responsibility of the priests, not the palace.”

  “Yessss.” The lizard’s tongue darted in and out. “But only as the guardians of the entry. Since the door has been opened without the palace being informed, your position as keeper of the key is forfeit to me.”

  Tarran gripped the staff in both hands and held it up like a great sword. The four pale men holding the palanquin dropped the canopied box to the ground and spread out behind the lizard. A tightly coiled krypin ropes appeared in their hands.

  The Chief Watcher extended his long claw and touched the end of the staff. “Do not resist me, Tarran.” The lizard flicked the staff aside, then he turned his back on the man and walked toward the doorway. “You cannot win.”

  Tarran stepped toward the four white men, who tensed in anticipation.

  “You would be wise to consider joining me, as Morgan has done,” the lizard said without turning around. “The priesthood is dying. My new religion is poised to take over. If you join with me, I will make you my captain instead of Morgan.”

  Tarran’s staff sagged until the tip touched the ground.

  The lizard held out his claw again. This time Tarran reached into his cowl, pulled out the cord and the notched cylinder and removed it from his neck. The Chief Watcher took it and looped it around his own neck.

  “A wise choice. You are a perceptive young man. One who could play an important role in restoring all the Cor to its former glory.”

  The tallest of the men with unseeing eyes approached and bent low to speak in the lizard’s ear. His long fingers were almost brushing the ground.

  The lizard nodded. A tight smile parted his lips. “A company of my men is on their way, Tarran. You will spend the night in the palace cells. I will give you until first light tomorrow to give me your answer. Think it over carefully,” it hissed. “Your sister’s life depends on it.”

  The lizard threw open the curtains and stepped up in into the palanquin. The four thin men picked up the cabin and disappeared off to the right. Tarran moved out to watch the procession leave. The eerie chirping faded into the distance and Tarran turned back to the door.

  Corvan pushed away from the hinges and the door moved slightly away from the wall. He had to get some answers from the man who had just saved him from the black lizard. Turning himself around he pushed hard on the heavy door, and it slowly moved into the passage.

  The screech of a burak filled the tunnel one of the massive animals pounded past him toward Tarran. It’s broad shoulder slammed into the edge of the door, throwing him onto the ground, his back up against the wall against the bottom hinge.

  Tarran cried out and through the crack Corvan saw the huge animal toss the man in the air and catch him again in its jaws like a cat with a mouse. It threw him again and Tarran’s body tumbled in a wild arc and landed in a crumpled heap near Corvan.

  Terror-filled eyes looked up through the crack. “Help me,” he croaked.

  Corvan pushed his legs against the door, but the creature’s weight held the stone slab tight against the wall. He needed something to distract the beast so Tarran could escape. Twisting on his side, he pulled the hammer free. Its blue light shot through the crack.

  The burak lifted its head into the light, its eyes focused on Corvan, then its sour breath blasted into his face with a deafening roar. The hinges creaked as the burak tried to force its snout into the crack. Its angry shrieks ripped at Corvan’s eardrums. He clenched both hands over his ears to make it stop. The door banged again, and the terrifying noise stopped.

  Tarran’s bloody face was just beyond the lower hinge.

  “Help me, Cor-Van,” Tarran gasped and then his pitiful face was dragged away.

  The great door boomed as the beast hammered into it. The stone slab bounced hard away from the wall, revealing a lone burak retreating up the slope with Tarran’s broken body dragging alongside it in the dirt before it disappeared between the two stone columns. The door kept closing until the light from the lumiens was only a thin wedge against the other side of the passage.

  Crawling on his hands and knees toward the light, Corvan stomach rolled, and he retched violently but there was nothing to come up. Finally, he was able to sit up, his mind reeling with what had just happened.

  A muted shriek jerked Corvan’s head up. Tsarek had said they always hunted in pairs, but he had not heard from the second one during the attack. He held his breath and listened intently. The passage was quiet, and nothing moved up between the pillars.

  Feeling around the floor closer to the wall, he found the hammer buried in a long pile of dirt. The handle was cold, and the light from the symbols was gone. Stuffing it back into the holster he buttoned the flap down. It was useless to him now.

  Getting to his feet, he discovered that the only reason the great stone door had not closed was because it was jammed tight against Tarran’s staff. Pulling the door back, he picked it up and tapped it on the floor to knock the dirt from the globe at the top. A soft purple light grew inside it and threw a kaleidoscope of shadowed patterns around the tunnel and lighting up the symbols etched across the door.

  A flurry of movement up the pathway caught Corvan’s eye. The other burak had arrived! Leaping out over the threshold, Corvan swirled about, stuck the end of the staff in the keyhole and yanked the door shut. Three sharp clicks were followed by muffled blows on the other side of the door. Corvan slumped down against it and leaned his head against the cold stone.

  High above him, the blue light shone brightly, but now he could clearly see it was a lumien much larger than the one in Tsarek’s cave. Smaller ones were scattered around it, the pink “stars” he’d seen earlier.

  The blows against the door quickly faded and Corvan realized he had not only just locked his only exit out of this violent underground world, but the black lizard had the only key.

  Pushing to his feet, he was drawn forward by the incredible size of the new cavern. It was hard to judge distance in the dim light, but it had to be miles to the other side, where a brown haze hung over what appeared to be jagged mountains. He stepped forward for a better look, and his foot slipped. Jerking his body back, he recovered to find himself on the edge of a precipice that ended in a steep slope hundreds of feet below.

  He looked to the path the thin men had taken and followed its winding course down the cliff to his right. At the bottom he caught sight of the tiny figures of the pale men carrying the lizard over a narrow bridge and there, beyond the ribbon of dark water, was the strangest city he had ever seen. It radiated out in concentric circles from a central plaza. Each subsequent larger circular street was joined to the next at intervals, making entire network of streets look like an immense spider’s web.

  He scanned both sides of the widest street that ran toward the far wall. The left side of the city was in ruins, but the right side looked relatively undamaged. An irregular thick wall ran between them.

  The lizard’s pale servants arrived in the central plaza, turned right, and proceeded through a gate in the dividing wall. They marched up a wide street and then through banks of fog that flowed about in a wide courtyard.

  Corvan looked ahead of the tiny travelers, and his eyes widened in amazement. A stone figure rose above the larger buildings. Corvan inched closer to the edge of the cliff, his eyes wandering up over the statue’s broad chest. It had to be a temple of some kind, like the ones for King Ramses and the other pharaohs in Egypt. On top of the broad shoulders sat a rough stone block. The face of the statue was not yet finished.

  Corvan’s gaze swept over a powerful stone bicep overlaid with writhing snakelike creatures. The arm lay on one of the wide armrests of the throne, and its hand gripped a tall staff like the one Corvan now held.

  Below the statue, around the large stone feet, human figures moved like ants on a circular stone wall. Great stone blocks were being moved into position with cranes and rollers. The glow of many firesticks burned around the construction site, casting their hazy heat waves into the air around the statue and made it look almost alive, like it might leave its throne and crush the buildings at its feet.

  Corvan peered into the shadows off to the left of the statue. Was that the pointy roof Tsarek told him to find?

  A shove from behind pitched him over the edge but before Corvan could scream, two powerful hands gripped his shoulders and held him dangling in thin air.