“AndIwill continue working on the translation,” Lugh said. “It will take time, though, so do not expect immediate miracles.”
“Miracles in a non-immediate manner will do just fine,” I commented, amusement twitching my lips.
Lugh snorted but otherwise didn’t say anything. Janis came around to take our orders for tea, coffee, and cake—the latter being a choice of plain old chocolate, lemon drizzle, or banana and walnut. I chose the latter because it at least had some fruit and nut in it, and was therefore the closest option to “healthy” breakfast cake.
By the time we’d finished, we were coming into land at Cardiff Airport. Once we’d deplaned, we found the Land CruiserMathi had rented and headed out, detouring to the camping store to collect the rafts and paddles Lugh had ordered. The wasn’t much traffic on the road, and it only took us a little over half an hour to reach Bridgend; from there, it was another ten minutes to the castle. Mathi pulled into the small parking area, and we all climbed out. The day had turned bitterly cold, and the sky dark and threatening. Thunder rumbled in the distance; a few seconds later, lightning flashed, briefly crawling across the base of the heavy skies.
It was a power I could call if trouble struck.
And strike it will....
I rubbed my arms and did my best to ignore the premonition. Lugh walked around to the Cruiser’s trunk, dragged out all his gear, then tossed protective overalls, climbing harnesses, and head lamps to all of us. I tugged mine on, then strapped my knives over the top of my overalls. I briefly thought about tucking my phone into a pocket, but there was unlikely to be any signal once we got deeper underground anyway, so even if we did strike trouble, it wasn’t going to be much use. I shoved it into my handbag, then tossed both into the trunk before Lugh slammed it closed. Darby was remaining close by, so there was little chance of anyone breaking into it without her noticing them lurking about.
Lugh swung the packs containing the ropes, anchors, and the two lashed-together inflatables over his shoulders, handed the smaller third pack containing water and snacks to Bodhrán, then motioned me to take the lead. I headed through the gate, my gaze on the ruins that dominated the hilltop. Like most fortified castles of this era, there really wasn’t all that much left of it—just a few walls and what looked like the remains of a keep in the inner ward, and, in the outer, an almost complete hall sans its roof, lots of mounds, and several more well-constructed stone walls. In the middle of the stone wall that spanned theditch surrounding the inner ward was a semicircular sluice gate, though it was missing the actual gate. The little I’d read about this place said it had been designed to allow defenders to flood the ditch with water, thereby providing the inner ward extra protection. It wasn’t, however, the gate we were after. That lay on the far side of the castle. I walked around the end of the hall and past the raised wooden walkway that gave easy entry into the inner ward, then half slid down the well-grassed slope into the ditch’s base. The other ditch wall was also in good condition, and although the gate remained in place here, it had been grassed over and was not likely useable. A steep embankment rose high behind it.
I scanned the stone wall carefully and, after a couple of moments, spotted the vaguely cross-shaped luminous white stone. I walked over and gave it a twist. For several heartbeats, nothing happened. Then, with a ponderous groan, a door-sized section of the stone to the right of the cross dropped away, revealing a narrow tunnel into deeper darkness. I turned on the headlamp and pointed the beam into the entrance. It wasn’t doing a whole lot to raise the shadows haunting deeper within, but the little I could see suggested that while it appeared very narrow, the tunnel remained in fairly good condition.
Which, as far as these things went, wasn’t always the case.
Mathi stopped beside me then glanced over at Bodhrán. “You want to check if there’s anything dangerous lurking in the tunnel’s depths?”
Bodhrán immediately moved past us and squatted in front of the newly opened entrance. He placed a hand on the ground, his gaze narrowing in concentration; a second later, the faint wisp of energy spun around me. His magic, reading earth and stone.
After a few minutes, he rose and brushed the grit from his fingers. “The tunnel appears to be stable, but it’s unnaturally steep in places.”
“What about the lake?” I asked. “How far down is it?”
“About a kilometer, though I can’t tell you much more than that. There appears to be an odd deadness in the ground surrounding that entire area.”
“Unfortunately, odd dead areas and godly relics do appear to go together,” Lugh said. “Can you take the lead? Beth will follow you in, and hopefully between the two of you, we’ll catch any earthly or magical traps that might await.”
“How long you going to be in there?” Darby asked. She was studying the tunnel’s opening dubiously, though it was practically pristine compared to some of those we’d entered in the past. “Just so I’ve an idea when to call in the cavalry.”
“An hour each way and maybe an hour at the relic site,” Lugh said. “But allow four, just to be safe.”
“What if some curious kids come by and decide to head in?” she asked. “Or hell, some National Trust bods?”
“If the entrance doesn’t close by itself, I’ll create a temp one,” Bodhrán said.
Darby nodded and rubbed her arms, watching as, one by one, we all went in. Lugh was barely through when the door silently closed.
I tugged the lamp over my head and looked around. The air was damp and slightly musty, and the walls were a flecked, dark gray granite that had streaks of quartz running through it. In the bright light of the lamps, they almost looked like rivers of moonlight. Perhaps the altar I’d seen in the vision was made of quartz, although the fact it had been glowing without the caress of light suggested there might be some sort of godly or magical enhancement present.
“Ready to move out when you are,” Lugh said.
I glanced at him. The tunnel was tall enough that he wasn’t having to hunker down awkwardly, but there was little roomeither side of his shoulders. If the tunnel got any narrower deeper in, he’d be losing skin.
Bodhrán brushed his fingers lightly against the granite, ‘listening’ for any possible problems that he hadn’t noticed earlier. We all followed in single file and, slowly but surely, the incline increased and the air grew hotter, staler. Moisture pricked the walls and gathered in small puddles on the floor, increasing the chances of a misstep, especially as the steepness of the slope increased. We were probably halfway through the tunnel when Bodhrán stopped so abruptly I almost ran into him.
“What?” I immediately said. The knives weren’t reacting in any way, so whatever he’d seen or sensed wasn’t magic based.
“There are ghosts ahead.”
“Ghosts?” I cocked my head and listened intently. After a moment, I caught it—a low-range hum of sorrow and anger.
“Could they be related to the castle?” Mathi asked. “Prisoners who died, perhaps?”
“I don’t think it ever had dungeons,” Lugh said, “although I believe it was used in the eighteenth or nineteenth century as a prison.”
