Castle Perilous

Deepest Levels

The caverns were deep and dark. Jacoby was fearful, but he trusted the voice. No harm would befall him as long as he persevered in his sacred mission. He passed through chamber after chamber, a strange radiance lighting his way, moving with him. As far as he could tell, the light had no source. It simply illuminated the area about him within a ten-foot radius. The caves themselves were visible by virtue of an innate luminescence in the rock.

The strange light knew the way. Jacoby followed it.

He passed a pool of dark, smoking liquid, a large bubble erupting on its viscous surface. The bubble broke, splattering, and steam vented from the hole that had formed until the black substance seeped back to close it off.

He entered a narrow crypt, dark recesses cut into its walls. From them came rustling sounds, clicking sounds. A pair of red eyes regarded from a shadowy niche as he hurried through.

All around him was a sense of presence, of discreet movement, of waiting and watching. But nothing challenged him, no one bothered him.

Something multilegged with a pointed snout came scampering out of an intersecting tunnel. It saw Jacoby and stopped so abruptly that it nearly went tumbling. It did a hasty about-face and scuttled back into darkness.

Jacoby breathed again and put a hand over his thumping heart. “Good God,” he said quietly. He filled his lungs, exhaled, and moved on.

He came to an open area where a water-carved rock bridge arched over a deep chasm, at the bottom of which lay a phosphorescent yellow lakelet, concentric ripples crossing and recrossing its oily surface. Silence here, save for the echoing plop of dripping water. He crossed the span, not daring to get close enough to the edge to look over. On the other side the light led him to the left along a narrow ledge, and then into a short tunnel. He emerged into another enormous room. This one was many-leveled, with galleries high up in the walls. The way led across the main floor, winding among weird rock formations. The moving light made the twisted forms around him writhe with life. Malformed faces silently howled at him, bony hands reached out.

Jacoby was out of shape, and out of breath. “Please,” he said to anyone who would hear. “I must stop … I must rest. Just for a moment.”

The moving pool of light stopped.

“Thank you, Holy One, thank you.” He chose a flat stone ledge and seated himself. He rested for two minutes, trying to control his breathing. Then he got up and pushed on. Toward the end of the chamber he encountered a wide pit and had to walk around it. As he did so, he looked in. Foul-smelling currents of air washed over him. At the bottom lay an odd configuration of tissuelike material, and he was nearly past it when he realized what it was: a huge mouth, black inhuman lips parted to reveal the ragged stumps of mottled, yellow teeth. Jacoby gave a yell and dashed away. A rumbling, snarling sound came from deep within the cavity.

Another tunnel brought him into a vast open area through which an underground river flowed, its dark waters silent, deep, and inexorably moving. A little way upstream a stone pier jutted out from shore. Jacoby walked to its end and stood, listening. Silence, except for the faint suck and gurgle of shore-lapping water. Before him the river extended to outer darkness. He could not see the other side.

He let out a long, eschatological sigh. Choosing one of the cylindrical stone mooring posts, he sat down and awaited Charon’s boat.