//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 // Story: The Rivers of Avalon // by Snowy89 //------------------------------// “It looks like it’s frowning,” Rainbow muttered glumly. Their canoe drifted along in the surprisingly swift current, carrying them right to the tunnel’s mouth; even the early morning light shining on it did little to make it more appealing. She swatted futilely at the swarm of mosquitos insistently buzzing around her before readjusting her scarf – every time she tried to speak it sagged a little lower, and she had no interest whatsoever in having it fall off her muzzle. Her ears ached from having them continually flattened down to keep the insects out – her scarf just wasn’t quite long enough to wrap around everything. “This sucks.” “At least it’s not the swamps again,” came Twilight’s muffled voice from where she sat huddled against the bow, curled up to expose as little fur as possible. “These ones are just annoying.” “Reeeally annoying,” Rainbow said, picking up her oar to dig it deep into the water, propelling them forwards. “Let’s just get inside already.” She wasn’t particularly looking forward to spending who-knows-how-long underground again, but at this point she was up for anything that wasn’t bug-ridden. Apart from being partially-collapsed, the entrance looked about what she’d expected – dark, grey, and foreboding. Quite foreboding, in fact. The rotting clusters she could see laying just inside weren’t helping things, either. “Hold up,” Twilight said as they passed into the mine, propping her oar against a grainy wall to stop them. The canoe rocked as she carefully stood to peer up at one of the fetid growths. From where Rainbow sat, she thought they looked a bit like bulbs, or flowers with their petals closed. Twilight’s horn lit up as she prodded at one too high to reach. It crumbled like brittle ceramic, sending a little cloud of brownish dust rising into the air. “... well, I certainly didn’t expect that,” Twilight mumbled, waving away the reddish cloud. “Sooo not a monster’s egg, then?” Rainbow guessed hesitantly, uncertain if she was pleased by that or not – while the fight in the woods may’ve been a great deal more frightening than she’d care to admit, encountering mysterious cave-monsters eventually just made sense to her. “Just some sort of plant, I think,” Twilight said, sitting back down heavily. “Might be seasonal? I know there’re some species of mushroom that’ll puff up like this to release spores before fading away a few days later.” Rainbow nodded along sagely. “So what you’re saying is, there’s a good chance that there’re mushroom-people up ahead.” “Yes, Rainbow – I definitely just said that.” “Oh, good,” Rainbow smiled as the current caught them back up, carrying them further inside. “I’d hate for this to be boring.” More clumps of dead-looking maybe-mushrooms lined the ledges carved or broken into the stone either side. Behind them, the spot of daylight slowly dwindled as the entranceway pinched down into a single wide, squat tunnel. Unlike the last part, the roof here was arched and jagged, as though it had suffered a partial collapse years ago. The water was deep, cold, and black. Squirrel leaned back from her usual place in the stern, content to rest while the current carried them steadily on. She shook her head sharply to rid herself of the few drops of water running down her mane and muzzle from the omnipresent dripping above. They passed more faded scrawl on the walls, though thus far it hadn’t seemed necessary to pay it any heed – what few side-passages they’d seen so far were thoroughly blocked up, the rocks and scree covered in fluffy blankets of dead or dying moss. Another of the odd, little mushroom things crumbled to dust as Rainbow gave it a curious poke with her oar. The air reeked of cinnamon. Twilight lit up the tunnel around them as the last of the sunlight faded behind. This time her faery lights were a warm orange – rather like peaches – and only illuminated a few metres around them. “Any reason for the colour change?” Squirrel asked, hoping a bit of chatter would help calm her nerves. “Was whiter last time.” “Need to save the energy,” Twilight replied, tugging down her scarf as she stared suspiciously at the walls. “We’ll want to swap off with shards in a hour or so.” “Mmhmm,” Squirrel agreed, following her gaze; even the walls here were mottled, covered by the dried skeins of long-dead lichen. If it wasn’t for the graffiti she’d wonder if they hadn’t taken the wrong path altogether. At length the broken, arched roof – up until now hanging barely a foot above their heads – rose up abruptly, disappearing as they cruised into a cavernous, branching room. She dug her oar into the water – it only just reached the ground – to try and bring them to a stop. “Deep here,” she muttered, suddenly aware of just how bad capsizing would be right now. The sound of running water echoing sharply off the walls did little to help her apprehension. “No kidding,” Rainbow said, her gaze darting about in the orange gloom. “Which way, do ya think?” The darkness seemed deeper off to their left, while a small, wood-buttressed passage lay dead ahead of them. Naught but the gentle sounds of plinking in the distance answered her, as they all fell to glancing at each other uncertainly. The canoe spun in slow circles, caught as it was in some persistent eddy; every half-turn passed them under a frigid rivulet that would beat a tattoo upon the hull. Finally, Twilight spoke. “Well, let’s think about this logically for a second,” she began, the lights around her glowing more brightly. “Mines have a purpose, right?” “... yes?” Squirrel answered, flinching as they passed under the stream again, the water splashing right across her head. “Right! Locate the ore and extract it with the minimal amount of fuss. Sooo this whole thing should really just be a series of exploratory tunnels – with the successful ones ending in mined-out chambers – and a main road for the railcarts.” “And an elevator,” Rainbow corrected her, a quiver of anxiety in her voice. “You gotta have an elevator for the villain to fall down later.” “Probably chutes then, too,” Twilight continued, mussing her mane contemplatively. “To drop the ore from higher sections to the collection sites.” “Not like you could break it or anything, sure,” Rainbow shrugged, switching her gaze skywards. “You saying that we’re under one of those? That we gotta go up?” “Maybe? I just mean that it’s got to be a great deal of work to dig these tunnels – I can’t imagine the miners wasting any time doing anything that wasn’t strictly necessary. Yesterday’s section was fairly straightforward – we followed the excavation tracks through a tool-storage site and later a checkpoint. The main problem I’m seeing here is...” “No rails,” Squirrel frowned. “So we’re not on the main track through. This could just end up deadending at some mined-out chamber, then, couldn’t it.” “We need to find the tracks,” Twilight said, sounding more confident than she probably felt. “Because I sure can’t see any more cavesign.” Sure enough, she’d lit her lights up enough to see a good ways down either path. Lines of water dripped steadily off the roof or ran down minute stalactites – any scrawl that may’ve once been on the walls will have long since been washed away, or simply covered over with moss. “Luckily it’s a straight-shot back if we want to turn around,” she added in a mutter, staring out at the plantlife. “Wouldn’t’ve thought that kind of stuff could grow without sunlight,” Rainbow said, her pack rustling as she pulled out a flask. “Twi?” In response, the lights dimmed so low as to be nearly extinguished. Squirrel strained her eyes into the darkness, figuring there must be a point to this, when... there! “Above,” she whispered, gesturing futilely to a lighter spot in the gloom. “Off to the right.” Twisting her head this way and that, the greyish patch far above stayed stationary – it wasn’t just a trick of her eyes. “A crack going to the surface, maybe?” “Enough light could bounce down here for the plants,” Twilight breathed out from the bow. “When the sun’s in the right position, at least.” Her horn glowed as she relit her lights, revealing the flooded cavern once more. “This place is in rough shape.” “Definitely gonna be monsters here,” Rainbow said eagerly, her gaze still fixed above. “A falling-apart mine with shafts of sunlight and weird crumbly plant-things all around? Finally! This is what we came here for, Twi!” “I thought you two came here ‘cause Twilight’s a shut-in?” Rainbow waved away her question. “Well sure, that too. But also this!” “Right,” Twilight cut her off indignantly. “Improbable adventures aside, which way are we going? Because I imagine the smaller one’s not leading to daylight.” Rainbow chuffed, readying her oar. “Well, why even ask then? Let’s get going!” Unanimously, they steered the canoe away from the little buttressed passage and down the wider path. With no obstructions – and a slow current to help as well – they made swift progress, but even after some minutes rowing they still hadn’t seen any sign of markings on the walls, while above, the drip had gotten drastically worse. “It’s like it’s raining!” Rainbow called out over the noise, ruffling her wings to shake the droplets off. “We’re not sinking, are we? ‘Cause I think I could fly with all the room here, but you two would have to swim!” Squirrel stamped a hoof on the bottom, hard enough to feel a few stray drops splash up to strike her face. “‘Bout an inch or so – we’re fine for now!” She paused in her rowing to peer once more over the side. “Still can’t see the bottom!” “Reassuring, as always,” Twilight drawled, barely heard, as her lights flared brightly. Though they could see much further down the tunnel, there was still no land in sight – the mossy walls and falling rain simply carried on as far as the eyes could tell. The lights dimmed again, returning to their feeble glow. Exchanging looks, they all began to row a little harder. In time, the walls became more jagged and angular as the passage increasingly came to look less like a mine and more like a natural cavern. The dripping continued, but more quietly now, the noise muffled by the space. “Spooky,” Rainbow muttered, sounding almost pleased. “Wonder how far this goes on for?” No one had any answer to that as they carried on deeper into the mountains, the current beneath them steadily picking up pace. Finally – it must’ve been a full quarter-hour later – they noticed a change in the tunnel, as the gloom above them started to glow a dull orange. “It’s the roof!” Twilight exclaimed after staring at it for a few moments. “It must be getting low enough to bounce some light back.” Sure enough, it wasn’t long before they could make out the tips of stalactites pointing down at them. The further on they went, the closer the ceiling became, now so near Squirrel suspected she could touch it if she reached up as far as she could. “We, uhh, we have a plan for this, right?” Squirrel’s gaze darted left and right, looking for any sort of side passage – at this rate, they’d hit a deadend soon. “Because this is definitely one of those roads you mentioned, right?” “It – it must be flooded,” Twilight said uncertainly, her lights spreading out around them with a wave of her hoof. “There’s still a strong current though.” “Which is bad if we can’t fight it! How long have we been travelling down this thing anyways!? We can’t row all that way back!” She was suddenly starting to panic as she realized there was no clear way out of this. She dug her oar in to try and fight the current, but to no effect. With the renewed brightness, they could all clearly see just how low the ceiling had become; Rainbow began fidgeting heavily in the claustrophobic air, her breathing audible even over their speech. Somewhere in the darkness far ahead she thought she could make out a spot blacker than the rest, with a smudge of white about its base. “Is that a branch there!” Squirrel shouted, voice cracking before she forced herself to take a slow, deep breath to try and regain her centre. “I don’t see anything!” Twilight called back. “I think we should turn back now – before this current gets even worse!” “Won’t make it,” Rainbow spat out, staring hawkishly ahead of them. “There’s a path on the right – might go up. We should go for that.” Her wings flared out and down, giving a couple of jerky flaps that sprayed mist all about them before she retracted them with visible effort. “I don’t see it...” “My eyes are better than yours!” Rainbow snapped, slapping her oar against the gunwale. “We must be moving at a trot by now,” Squirrel added, looking around at the walls passing by them. “I say we go on.” Twilight hesitated again, clearly caught in two minds about this, before nodding. “Right,” she said, her voice quavering faintly. “Right. Let’s go on then – we’ll need to move faster than the water if we want to gain any sense of control.” By now even Twilight could make out the large t-junction ahead, so fast were they moving. They aimed straight for it, far more intent on making the turn period than on whether or not they’d capsize when they did. Just have to hope for the best, Squirrel thought to herself, hunching down. They reached the passage suddenly, their bow plunging down into the eddy swirling at the junction before piercing back up as they rose out the far side, the canoe pitching sideways in the still-roiling waters. Their oars scrambled frantically in a desperate attempt to keep them from rolling as they fought the weight of their now-sopping clothes. The froth of mixing streams butted and crashed against them as they stabilized just in time to scrape against rock – whether wall, ground, or rubble Squirrel couldn’t hope to tell. Several harrowing moments later they were able to even out as the stream around them calmed, though what state they were in she didn’t know – it was dark as pitch around her. She hacked and shivered in the cold. “I-is –” she spluttered out weakly. “Is everyone alright?” A high-pitched whine answered her, followed by a bout of coughing. “Yes,” Twilight eventually said, her voice hoarse and barely audible over the hissing river. “I’m fine. Dash?” There was the sound of spitting. “This sucks.” Twilight let out a sigh of relief. “Good, good,” she mumbled as a light blossomed in the darkness, growing until they were once again warmly lit. They looked an absolute mess. Both Twilight and Rainbow’s manes were skewed and mussed about, while Rainbow’s feathers were poking up at odd angles; their jackets hung heavily off their sopping frames. Squirrel doubted she looked much better. The canoe itself sat low, half-filled with water, their gear scattered about, but, at a glance, at least all there. The ceiling here was close, but blessedly didn’t seem to be angled any lower; likewise, the water was fairly calm, with no current to speak of bar a scattering of whitecaps. Behind them, they could just make out the churning of the junction. No one spoke again for several minutes as they caught their breathes, sifting around their packs to see if anything was missing. Squirrel half-heartedly detached her pan and began bailing out the boat. Twilight soon joined her, pot in hoof. “W-we should get going f-fast,” she chattered. “We n-need to dry off.” Rainbow grunted, poking them both back to their thwarts, her own oar already out, its blade hovering over the water. “We can get a fire going once we find somewhere dry,” she said, shooting Twilight a worried glance. “Right? We can switch to the shards after that.” Twilight nodded. “I c-can do that; definitely too tired to l-light us afterwards, th-though.” They rowed on, meandering left and right as they found it difficult to coordinate their strokes through all the shivering. They could barely make out anything more than a few lengths ahead of them, and while the ceiling didn’t seem to be getting any lower, it wasn’t getting any higher, either. At length, however, the cut of the stone started to change once again, moving away from the natural angles and back to straight and regular lines. “Hey, look!” Rainbow said, pointing a wing towards a smudgy shape on one of the walls, just a few feet under the water. “It’s a lamp!” Squirrel leaned over to squint at the blur and, sure enough, so it was – a stained glass bulb with an off-white lump at its bottom. “That must mean the water’s getting more shallow, right?” she asked, hope colouring her voice. “They wouldn’t keep it too high off the ground, after all.” “Totally!” Rainbow agreed, still staring down at the long-defunct shard. It wasn’t long before Squirrel could just barely make out the silt-covered ground, now only a couple of metres below them. Her tail started swishing again, eager as she was to finally be somewhere shallow enough that her hooves could touch the bottom. She barely even noticed when they cruised right into another t-junction. “Hold up!” Twilight called over her shoulder as they dug in their oars, bringing them to the closest thing to a halt they could muster. The waters here were calm, and still fairly shallow. “Now where are we?” Rainbow groaned, frustrated as she stared out into the darkness. The tunnel ran crosswise to the previous, and was far wider to boot, with the current being just strong enough that they had to fight to keep the canoe from drifting downstream. There wasn’t much to see in the gloom, but what did catch their eyes was the small mound of scree that looked to have run off from the far wall. They hurriedly paddled their canoe over, its keel scraping on the rubble as they dug into the minute beach. Twilight scrambled out, hooves sinking and sliding over the loose pebbles, her horn glowing all the brighter as she cast whatever spell she had in mind. While Squirrel and Rainbow set about dragging the boat further on land – it would be absolutely miserable to have it drift away now – a warm, ruddy ball of heat and light formed with a faint, ringing sound. After several seconds the noise faded away as the orb gave one final pulse before seeming to settle in on itself. All the other lights winked out, leaving them with only the ball to guide them. They quickly rejoined Twilight and huddled down next to her in the warmth. To Squirrel it felt like she was basking in the sun – the urge to doze felt almost overwhelming as she lay down limply next to it, tailing flicking contentedly. “Muuuch better,” she sighed. Rainbow grunted her agreement, doffing her sopping jacket and scarf to plop down next to Twilight. Getting the impression they were in for a decent break, Squirrel copied her, setting her clothes aside to dry while Twilight followed suit. After that, it was back to cozying up to the heat. Rainbow fluffed out a wing and draped it over Twilight’s back, hoping to keep her warm. Given the amount of heat radiating off the orb it was probably unnecessary, but she didn’t feel like taking any chances. She rolled her neck, trying to think of something cheerful to say. “Sooo,” she said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the oppressive dark. “This is kinda, umm... fun.” Twilight snorted. “Well, you know! It’s like camping,” she insisted. “On a cloudy night – that’s why there’s no stars or moon, you see.” “Pretty fancy campfire here, then,” Squirrel said from where she lay, tail still flicking about happily. “It’s all magical.” Rainbow stuck out a hoof, giving the orb a swift poke. It was hot – like a mug of tea – and felt like honey, but without all the stickiness. “It is kinda fancy, isn’t it? What is it, anyways, Twi?” Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, firstly, you’re not supposed to touch static arrays you’re not familiar with, Dash – I’m more than a little certain I’ve told you that before. Secondly, it doesn’t really have a name – or maybe it has a lot depending on where you are? It’s too basic and widespread, really.” She gave a half-hearted shrug. “It’s warm – that’s the important bit.” Rainbow scoffed. “Well that’s no fun – it’s not very dramatic, is it?” “It’s not a very dramatic spell, either,” Twilight said, giving another shrug. “I guess,” Rainbow hedged – it certainly seemed pretty cool to her, although their current situation may’ve had something to do with that; still though – a fancy name would be best. “How about the sun? It sure looks like a mini one.” “I... think that name’s already taken.” “Warmth?” “Nah – too vague.” “Sparkle’s sparkling ball of campfire?” Twilight elbowed her in the ribs. “I think nameless might be best, here.” “Suit yourself.” Rainbow yawned wide enough to crack her jaw. Suddenly feeling far too tired to carry on the banter, she settled down, muzzle on her hooves, to doze. Rainbow wasn’t certain how much time had passed since she’d first closed her eyes, but it seemed like no time at all before she felt herself getting shaken awake. “Up you get, Dash,” Twilight said, prodding her side. “We’ve spent more than enough time here, and there’s a ways to go yet.” Rainbow grumbled, but sat up with a quick stretch. With how much everything did end up reminding her of camping she’d been able to relax enough for a nap, but now she remembered exactly where she was. She shook her head and gave her wings a roll as she scrambled around for her panniers. The other two were busy quietly planning their next move, but as in so far as Rainbow was concerned there was only one way to go – downstream – she didn’t bother joining in. Finding her canteens, she wandered the few paces over to top them off after drinking her fill. There was a rasping of gravel as Twilight stepped up next to her, already wearing her jacket and gear. “They’re dry now,” she said, refilling her own flasks; a few loose pebbles rolled down into the murky depths below her glugging canteen. “I’d guess it’s been at least an hour – it’s hard to tell down here.” Rainbow stared up into the endless black above. “No kidding. Can’t you tell from how tired you are? You held that ball-thing the whole time.” Twilight hummed, nudging Rainbow back towards her gear. “It takes too little energy to maintain. Let’s get going though – I don’t want to risk us still being in here when it gets dark outside.” Not least because they wouldn’t see the exit even if they were to paddle right past it. Rainbow stepped back towards the light, taking one last moment to relish its warmth before donning her jacket and scarf, and tossing her flank-satchels in the canoe. Squirrel was fiddling with something in her hooves; a light flared up before rapidly dimming down enough for her make out a brightly glowing stone nestled snuggled in the crook of her pastern. “Oh! Right,” Rainbow said, reaching up to rummage through the satchel she’d kept on her neck for one of her own faery shards – she’d completely forgotten they’d need to light the way with them from now on. Finding it, she concentrated, imagining the same lightning-jolt feeling she got whenever she beat her wings for takeoff or wrought clouds for weather. With a flash her own lit up to glow a perfect white – just like Squirrel’s. Unfortunately, a problem just occurred to her. “Sooo how are we doing this?” she began, the shard still cradled in her hooves. “‘Cause I can’t exactly row like this.” “... oh.” Twilight blushed, looking flustered. “We could, umm...” “Nah, I got it,” Squirrel interrupted her. “You two got scarves, right? So we just tie one down to the bow, and the other to stern – should still be bright enough to see by, even through the gauze.” Rainbow shrugged, but unraveled her scarf and got to work. There wasn’t exactly anything to tie it down to, per se, but she figured she’d give it a solid effort anyways. It didn’t take long for the problem to become apparent. “It just won’t stay on!” Twilight complained behind her, tossing aside her scarf in disgust. “We’re not even moving and it just slips out!” Rainbow looked down at her own failed efforts with a huff. “Well, why not just do this then,” she said, dragging Squirrel’s sleeping bag over to the stern and plopping her shard roughly atop it. “There. Done.” And it more-or-less was. Twilight fully abandoned her own attempts to attach the shard like some sort of ship’s lantern, and instead just propped her gear near the bow and set the stone in a little dent on top. It didn’t illuminate things particularly well like this – Rainbow doubted they’d be able to see more than a couple metres ahead of them with any clarity – but they were both more than a little annoyed with the effort by now. The slopes of the scree were too steep to wade the canoe out, even just a few steps, so instead they set the stern right on the edge, bow out over the water. From here, Twilight and Rainbow clambered carefully aboard, the orb extinguishing behind them as they did. Once they were as securely seated as they could be, Squirrel gave it one final push and hopped in, the little island fading behind them rapidly in the ghostly light. The canoe rocked worryingly side-to-side as they all hunkered down low to try and tame it. Sure enough, they quickly evened out. Oars back in hoof, they found they’d drifted back near the tunnel they’d come in through, the slow current running out buffeting them just as slowly away again. With that to help orient themselves, they angled back downstream and carefully began rowing. “So if I remember rightly from earlier,” Twilight began, her oar held out in front of them as a probing ward against anything they might bump into. “This tunnel looked to run at least a hundred metres straight before turning sharply.” “I think I saw some light at the end of it,” Rainbow added, squinting out to where she thought the tunnel ended in the hopes of seeing it again. “On the left; can’t see it now, though.” “I saw it too,” Twilight nodded, her oar bumping up against a heavily rusted cart, its top just barely rising above the surface; she gave it a gentle push to guide them around it. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for it. Once we get to about where I think it was, if we still can’t see it, we can find a place to stop and cover up these shards – they’re messing up out nightvision far more than my lights were.” “Can’t be helped,” Squirrel said, nudging the one at her elbow. “Wish we had some mirrors to point them forward, though.” Twilight looked like she about to say something before shaking her head. “Pity my pot’s blackened.” “Ah, well.” They took care to keep the leftmost wall in sight, little more than a metre off to the side; they’d drifted early on into the centre – where the current was strongest – but found themselves almost immediately disoriented with not a single landmark in sight. They’d fallen to silence during the long creep down the river, ears and eyes strained for any sudden obstacle that might appear, or sound of minute streams running through cracks and fissures in the wall that might signal their way out. It felt like ages had passed – so unwilling were they to go any faster than a crawl – when a welcoming glint of light flickered in the distance. “Got something,” Squirrel muttered, sitting up and craning her neck for a better look. “Definitely light.” “Should we just keep going straight? Left side or right?” Twilight asked, trying her best to make it out – with how much shorter she and Rainbow were than Squirrel, she was little surprised the diminutive unicorn couldn’t see it herself. “Looks more on the left.” The slivers of light were constant now, spilling in from somewhere out of sight. It wasn’t long before the others could make them out too. They crept closer to the bend, thin sunrays now visible in the omnipresent dust that had been hovering in the air, leaving a chalky taste on the tongue for some time now. “There!” Twilight called out excitedly as the bow rounded the bend. A moment later Squirrel saw it herself – the ceiling here was riven, a great, jagged crack running lengthways down the tunnel; whereas the part they were in now was harshly and barely lit, further down was wreathed in a dim, yellowy glow. At the far end the river turned again – rightwards – but where it bent scaffolding rose out of the water, building up to some sort of loading platform. “Finally.” Squirrel breathed out a sigh of relief – land was in sight. “Yep,” Twilight agreed, her head on a swivel as she took in their surroundings. “Pretty, too.” The walls here were decorated with creeping vines, themselves bedecked in little purple flowers; ferns grew from countless ledges broken into the rock. Somewhat unsettlingly, clusters of the odd egg-shaped things grew all about the platform ahead. “Mushrooms are back,” Rainbow muttered. “They look... I don’t know, fresher?” Squirrel couldn’t make them out in anywhere near enough detail to tell that from here, but she hoped that wasn’t as worrisome as it sounded. “Well... mushroom-people would be vegetarians, right? So we’d be safe, right?” “Most mushroomians would, yes,” Rainbow conceded, turning around to waggle a hoof at Squirrel. “But these ones are carnivores! Pony-eaters! You can totally tell by the colouration of their eggsacks. Plus! –” A splash of water cut her off. “Right,” Twilight said, oar still dripping as she faced a spluttering Rainbow. “Now’s perhaps not the best time for silliness, Dash.” “That was cooold, Twiii,” Rainbow whined, rubbing her muzzle into the crook of her elbow. “Now I’ll be too cold to fight off the mooonsters.” “I’m sure Squirrel and I can manage just fine on our own,” Twilight said primly. “What we should be focusing on is not grounding the canoe – it’s practically shallow enough to get out and walk!” Squirrel leaned over the side, a smile gracing her features as she saw a small school of tiny fish skittering about in the barrel-high water. “Oh! Good.” They drifted onwards, enjoying the ambience too much to hurry on. “Those’re periwinkle,” Squirrel said, feeling chatty as she pointing out the flowering vines. “Pretty sure, at least. Ferns are all swords, of course. Not terribly good with fish, but I think these are minnows?” She spied another school of them and nodded. “When in doubt, just call them ‘minnows.’” “‘Minnows’ it is, then,” Rainbow agreed, head cocked as she stared down at them herself. “Think they taste any good?” “Eeeeww, Dash!” Twilight giggled, leaning back to give her a playful shove. “Don’t be gross!” “I meant cooked! Cooked!” Squirrel leaned back as the other two splashed each other, trying to ignore the odd spray that missed and caught her. The occasional shaft of sunlight they passed under felt warm on her fur as they neared the next bend. Judging by the wood-and-metal crane and lines of shelving, this had indeed been a loading platform of sorts, likely raised up to better get things in and out of the larger vehicles, but now fortuitously keeping it out of the water. The odd plant clusters were definitely there, and as Rainbow had said looked far more lively. They still rose like giant flower buds – nearly as tall as she was on her hinds, she suspected – but their leaves were a pale green, and fringed in pink. They had an oily glisten, as well as a ruddy, mottled dusting about their peaks. The scent of cinnamon hung all the more strongly in the breeze. “Anyone see a ladder or something?” Squirrel asked – she didn’t particularly like the idea of climbing up all those rotted beams. The other two gave up on their splashing and turned back to the platform. “No...” Twilight said. “But does it even matter? We should be following the river, after all.” “‘Does it even matter’!?” Rainbow exclaimed, aghast. “Of course it does! We can’t not investigate the egg thingies!” “She’s right,” Squirrel agreed. “That’s just not how things are done.” As much as she hated the idea of climbing up there and delaying their exit all the longer, poking the unicorn was just too much fun. “We can tie up the canoe easily enough.” Twilight sighed, but didn’t argue. “Fine, fine – but let’s make this quick.” As they drifted up to the scaffold’s base they got their first chance to see down the next bend. Like the current section, it was covered in plants and bathed in light pouring in from the ceiling. Still more light came in through a great gash in the wall, set at the top of a mound of scree nearly big enough to block the tunnel. The river burbled as it rushed through the narrow space between rubble and wall. “Well,” Twilight said as she visibly relaxed. “I suppose there’s an exit there; it’s still daylight too.” “That’s the spirit!” Rainbow agreed, perking up noticeably as she tied them off to a mossy piling. She reared up, canoe rocking dangerously beneath her, and stared up at the platform a couple metres above. “Sooo,” she said, hooves braced against the wood. “How’re we doing this?” Squirrel wasn’t entirely certain of that herself. “Could use the crossbeams?” she suggested, bobbing her head towards the supporting ‘x’. “Might work. Pity we don’t have paws.” Demigryphs really had it easy, climbing things like that. “Or talons, for that matter.” “Claws would be cheating,” Rainbow waved her off as she tugged the canoe athwart the cross, shucking her jacket and scarf as the others did much the same. “We got this.” She leapt up and scrambled onto the diagonal beam, a leg shooting out to brace against the stone wall. Not pausing for breath, she began scrabbling up and around the upper beam, hooves sliding slightly on the moss. After a few decidedly awkward-looking moments, she managed to haul herself up onto the crux. “Easy!” she puffed, looking quite proud of herself. Twilight stared up at her skeptically. “Uh huh.” “Super –” she huffed – “super easy!” “Uuuh huh,” Twilight drawled. “Okay, I can see Squirrel managing this, but I doubt I can.” Squirrel couldn’t help but agree. While Rainbow continued trying to work her way to the top, she looked around at what they had to work with. “Got it!” she said, spying what should hopefully work. “We can use the crane!” Despite its age and the conditions it was in, it did seem sturdy by Squirrel’s reckoning, so there shouldn’t really be a problem. “... no.” “Aw, come on! It’ll lift you up, easy!” “Yeah, Twi!” Rainbow called down as she heaved herself onto the top. She whisked out of sight before her head came back into view, looking down at them. “Squirrel and me’ll get you up, no problem! That thing could probably lift you ten times over.” Twilight glanced hesitantly at the crane. “I don’t know... the last thing I went up in in Avalon came crashing down again.” “Pffft!” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “You still going on about that? That was ages ago!” “... it was last week.” “Same difference,” she shrugged. “Airships aside, all the other stuff here seems built well enough. Besiiides, if it fails, you’ll just end up in the water! It’s super safe.” “Definitely,” Squirrel agreed. “The safest.” Twilight sighed slowly, but relented. “Alright, fine. But! You –” she jabbed a hoof at Squirrel – “need to get up there first.” “Fair enough.” Squirrel walked the length of the canoe, bracing herself against the same piling Rainbow had. It looked simple enough – she’d seen the route done once already, after all. With a little hop she heaved herself onto the first beam, sliding only a little before her chipped hooves dug into the wood. Swinging limberly around, she climbed onto the first crux; from there, it was simple enough to pull herself onto the crossbeam above, onto the next crux, and finally, the top. “Nice,” Squirrel muttered, pleased with herself for managing that without falling off. She stepped away from the edge – even shorter drops gave her vertigo – and took a good look at the platform. There wasn’t really much to say about it – it was maybe twenty feet deep and twice that wide, with ruined, empty shelving lining the walls, and junk littering the floor. Plantlife grew scattered about in the sunlight, while a triplet of those odd clusters grew hither and thither out of the rotted wood. There were a pair of dark tunnels leading further in, too, but there’d be time enough for that later. The crane sat at the far end. She and Rainbow clopped over to it, while below Twilight could be heard untying the canoe and pulling herself alongside. It looked an awful lot like the simple dockside ones Squirrel’d seen countless times before, and probably functioned like one too. “It’s just a big, straight lever,” she said, talking loudly enough for Twilight to easily hear her. “The butt’s attached to that thing around those gears, see? So we just turn the cranks to rotate everything, wind the rope, and so forth; as long as nothing’s jammed we should be good.” “Give it a turn, first!” Twilight called up to them. “I’m not trusting myself to that if it’s just going to fall right over the instant you touch it!” Squirrel looked over it as best she could. “Rope looks good, if a bit green, and the iron’s not too rusty.” She beckoned Rainbow over as together they reared up to try giving one of the cranks a turn. It held fast for a moment before giving way with a grinding crunch; beside them, the crane rotated slowly widdershins. “Well, it’s not rust-welded! So there’s that.” “Oh, goody,” Twilight sighed up at them. “Well, fine then – let’s get this over with.” They rotated the crane back and gave the other two cranks a try to make sure everything was a go before spooling out the rope. “You two are lucky my pannier-harness is so well made,” she grumbled as she tied the loose end around the straps about her withers. “Equus’ finest, eh?” Squirrel said with a grunt, as she and Rainbow began pulling the annoyed unicorn up. “Better than anything I’ve seen around here,” Twilight wheezed out as she came into view. As much as Squirrel wanted to snip at her for that, she was finding it hard enough not to just break out laughing instead – the way Twilight was limply dangling from the rope made her look for all the world like a wet cat held up to the light. “Lookatchyu!” she snorted. “Whosa pretty kitty!” Twilight wiggled ineffectually at her. “Swat her for me, Dash.” Unfortunately, Rainbow seemed to be far too giggly herself to bother. “Aww, cheer up Twi! You’re nearly there!” It was the work of a minute to rotate the crane a touch and lower her down to the platform. “Not doing that again,” she muttered, untying herself and throwing the rope away in disgust. She rolled her shoulders and shook herself before stamping up to Squirrel and giving her a poke in the chest. “And I’m not a kitty!” “Uh huh,” Squirrel smiled, gently swatting away her hoof. “Certainly not.” Twilight grumbled some more, but turned her attention away and back to the platform. “So!” she began before heading over to the nearest of the clusters. She paused next to one nearly the height of her withers and gave it a tentative sniff; she recoiled, grimacing. “Definitely the source of that scent.” Squirrel joined her and gave them a more discerning look. The things varied in size, with some but a few inches tall; likewise, while some glistened with life, others were dry and shriveled, or broken up entirely. Far more worrisome though was that couldn’t feel a single one of them – not even the clearly living ones. “Maaaybe don’t stick your muzzle quite so close, Twilight,” she said, backing away slowly. “I can’t sense a thing from these things.” Twilight’s ears shot up. “Ah,” she said, cautiously doing much the same. “Sooo maybe we turn around and leave then?” “Yup.” “Hold on – wait,” Rainbow said, eyes darting between them and the clusters. “What’s wrong?” “Earth pony,” Squirrel said quietly, not taking her eyes off the things. “If there’s a plant within a dozen paces, I’ll know it – always.” “And?” “And I ain’t feeling a thing from these.” A look of confusion hung on Rainbow’s face for a moment before her eyes widened. “Ah.” She started backing away alongside them. “So we’re leaving now, right? Before the monster eggs hatch, right?” “Right,” Twilight agreed, as they reached the platform’s edge. She turned to look down at the water below, glanced back at the almost-certainly-eggs, and back to the water again. “See you at the bottom!” she shouted as she leapt straight off. “Uhh,” Squirrel said, nonplussed – she really hadn’t expected that of her. There was a rustle as, beside her, Rainbow flared her wings to glide much more elegantly down. Not at all liking the idea of being up here all by herself, Squirrel spied a spot that looked reasonably deep, and leapt. The water was cold as she splashed down, her hooves grazing the silty bottom. Flailing for a moment from the shock of it, she quickly regained control and started paddling towards the canoe just in time to see Rainbow lightly touch against a pile, all four hooves bracing midair against its side before kicking off to land gently in the boat. Ignoring how impressive that was, Squirrel swam over to the piling Twilight was clinging onto; with a bit of help, Twilight was able to climb up the scaffolding just far enough to step onto the canoe while Squirrel waited in the chilly water, happy that here at least it was shallow enough she could just barely stand up on the bottom. “Let’s hurry over to the exit,” she said, jerking her head downriver to the great, sunny hole in the wall. “I’ll swim.” “You sure?” Rainbow asked, despite already unmooring the canoe. Squirrel waved her off as best she could. “Yeah – it’s faster and the water’s refreshing; plus, I’m really worried we might’ve somehow woken something up.” She leaned back, slipping under the water; righting herself, she started swimming towards the light without waiting for a response. It wasn’t long before she could hear the heavy splashing of oars behind her. The canoe quickly appeared alongside her as the other two kept pace, careful not to go too fast and leave her behind; luckily, Squirrel was a decent swimmer, so it wasn’t really necessary, but she appreciated the thought nonetheless. “We probably could’ve waited,” Twilight said, her sopping mane plastered to her head. “If you need a break, just grab the boat.” “I’m good,” Squirrel spluttered out – it was hard to speak while swimming. “It’s practically too shallow to swim here, anyways.” Which was true – her hooves kept clipping the gravelly ground this close to the mound. Even with the current it was still some minutes before they got to the base of the scree; to the left, through a thin channel between rubble and wall, ran the river, the sound of the rushing water loud in their ears. She waded onto shore, water sloughing off her, as the canoe beached up next to her. Briskly shaking herself, she turned to pull the boat fully ashore. Rainbow practically flew out to help her. “Why didn’t you say they were monsters!?” she grunted as they tugged. “We passed, like, dozens of them on the way in!” “Well, they were dead, weren’t they?” Squirrel shot her an annoyed look. “It’s harder when they’re dead; plus, there were plenty of plants all over the place there! And I wasn’t even looking for anything strange, anyways.” She stopped to catch her breath – the swim had gotten tiring towards the end. The sound of shifting gravel stole their attention – Twilight had stepped out of the canoe, looking warily back at the platform. “Dash – do you think you could fly up to the opening? Scrambling up this slope’ll be a huge waste of time if it doesn’t actually go anywhere.” Rainbow frowned sharply at Squirrel before nodding and backing off to find a good place to take flight. “I think we’ve travelled far enough that this should be the far side of the range,” Twilight said, watching as Rainbow flew past, gained a little bit of height, and darted right for the opening. “I’m just worried that this hole stares out of a cliffside or something.” “Makes sense.” Squirrel shuffled awkwardly as they waited, shooting odd glances at Twilight. “You know, I really didn’t think there was anything off about the buds – with so much moss and stuff all over the place, everything feels painted in plantlife.” She didn’t really know why she was trying to apologize – it was just that, what with being the earth pony here, she felt like it was somehow her job to notice things like this. Twilight gave her a soft shoulder-bump. “Hey, it’s fine; I can’t claim to know what that particular kind of magic’s like – at least, not in practice – but it’s not as though anybody could blame you for somehow missing it.” She shifted to squint up at their maybe-exit. “Rainbow’s just upset.” Squirrel nodded along glumly. “These tunnels are rather gloomy, aren’t they? Doesn’t help that wherever we end up tonight’ll probably covered in mosquitos.” “Ugh – I’d forgotten about that.” “On the plus side, they can’t really get through our fur...” Twilight snorted. “Sure, but eyes and ears? You were as covered up as us back at the entrance.” “I was just commiserating,” Squirrel insisted. “Didn’t want you two to feel awkward.” “Uh huh.” Before Squirrel could say anything more, a shout rang down from above. “Hey!” Rainbow called down to them. “It’s no good here, but I can see the exit right ahead!” She disappeared from view only to reappear a moment later, wings wide as she glided down to them. She landed noisily upon the scree, pebbles spraying as her hooves dug in, before practically skipping over to join them. “Almost there!” she repeated, smiling widely. “Wonderful!” Twilight smiled back, tail swishing. “Let’s get the canoe across, then!” “Any idea what time it is, Rainbow?” Squirrel asked. “Sun’s still up, but not by much,” Rainbow shrugged, gesturing her to the bow. “We’ll make it out before dark. Now – let’s carry this thing across.” They heaved the canoe overhead, intent on carting it to the calmer waters on the far side of the collapse. Taking their time to avoid turning an ankle on the loose ground, they soon arrived to see the tunnel barely continued on at all before hooking again sharply to the left; this time, however, the dim glow of daylight was unmistakable. Squirrel’s heart lightened momentarily before she remembered just what was next. “Two down, one to go,” she muttered, wilting. “Just one day left after this. Hopefully.” “S’long as there’re no monsters, it’ll be fiiine,” Rainbow assured her they waded out a touch to set the canoe splashing down beside them. “First tunnel had no monster eggs, after all – it probably just affects the even-numbered bits.” “There is way too much confidence in your voice considering what you just said,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes fondly. “Checks out to me, though,” Squirrel shrugged, returning to the stern as the other two clambered in. “We’ll just have to avoid exploring any other mines afterwards, is all.” Squirrel hopped in afterwards, her momentum carrying the canoe away from shore. The current was just strong enough that they didn’t particularly need to oar, so Squirrel took the moment to simply slump in her seat and relax. Whatever those apparently-abandoned eggs came from was hopefully not going to be any problem to them. She didn’t exactly have anything tangible to back that hope up, of course, but she quietly hoped it nonetheless. “So,” she began, feeling cheerful as they neared the bend. “What’s the plan once you two get back to Hurricanum, then?” “Shower,” Twilight answered without any hesitation. “Nap,” Rainbow countered before second-guessing herself. “Wait – no. Shower first – then nap.” “Umm... very practical,” Squirrel conceded. “But not quite what I meant.” “Two naps?” “I meant reporting in or going home or something.” “Well, obviously we’re doing that,” Twilight said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Probably going back to Equus pretty soon, too? Maybe?” She paused, tapping her hoof against the gunwale in thought. “Remember we’re mostly here just for the experience – we’re not handling anything official or the like; the group we came with does, mind you, but we’re really just tagalongs by another name.” “Because your friend made you.” “Still need to throw her off a bridge for all this, yes.” “Right...” Squirrel drawled. “Well, if you do end up hanging around for a while, I could show you two around the place? I’ll need to hop on a convoy to get back home again, after all, and it’ll definitely end up passing through some of the major cities along the way.” She didn’t really know why she was making such an offer, considering how rough things had been since Cherry Point; maybe she just wanted the company? It was going to be kind of a boring trip back, otherwise. “Uhh, don’t take this the wrong way or anything,” Rainbow said hesitantly, fidgeting in her seat. “But as guides go you’ve kinda sucked.” “Hey!” Squirrel said, indignant. “I’ve been a perfect guide! Remember the swamp?” “I remember getting lost in it.” Now Squirrel started fidgeting. “How about Nestle, then? Got you there safe and sound, and,” she tapped the hull emphatically. “And I’m pretty sure I helped out in Beech. Probably. And I definitely said we shouldn’t take these monster-filled mines, so there’s that, too.” “True,” Twilight said, choosing that moment to chime in. “But we’d’ve gotten to Nestle if we just followed the river south, which we would’ve done anyways. We didn’t exactly do anything in Beech; plus, I’m not certain you can count ‘I told you so’ as meaningfully guiding us.” “Ouch,” Squirrel winced – sure, it was true all right, but did she need to just come out and say it? “Alright, fine; but can I at least get bonus points for not charging you?” “Oh! Definitely.” Squirrel sighed. “Better than nothing, I suppose.” “Don’t feel bad!” Rainbow said, leaning back to give her a friendly bump. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to get horribly lost with on your way back.” “Gee, thanks,” Squirrel muttered, feeling oddly dejected by all this. She was saved from any more teasing when they rounded the bend, a wave of sunlight greeting them from the massive exit ahead. Squirrel whistled appreciatively – it must’ve been a dozen metres wide, and probably even taller still if it wasn’t for all the water. “I guess we’ve only been seeing the little side-entrances before now.” “Looks likely,” Twilight agreed. They were still too far away to make out anything through the brightness, so they were cautious as they paddled their way forwards – it wouldn’t do to go through all this just to row straight off a waterfall. Wincing as they quickly transitioned into the light, Squirrel blinked rapidly as she took in their surroundings. It was another bog. “Dangit,” Rainbow grumbled over the humming of insects. “Not another one!” Squirrel looked at her, nonplussed. “You were flying around out here literally twenty minutes ago.” “I’d hoped it’d changed since then...” “Unwarranted optimism aside, Dash, did you happen to see somewhere decent to set up camp? Sun’s almost behind the mountains,” Twilight said, waving out vaguely into the tall reeds all about them. “Somewhere less buggy?” “Nah,” Rainbow said, grimly wrapping her scarf around her head. “We’re doomed.” Squirrel didn’t really like the idea of trying to sleep whilst getting slowly nibbled to the bone all night. “I don’t suppose we could backtrack a ways? That mound we were on was clear.” As one, all three of them looked back over their withers at the tunnel mouth and the visible current pouring out of it. “We could try,” Twilight said, “but I’m worried about how much time that’ll add to tomorrow – we don’t know how long the final bit’ll take.” “Also: monsters.” “Yes, I suppose there’s that, too; same problem with the next section, come to think of it.” The canoe slowly spun in circles as they held their position, thinking out their next step. “I hate to say this,” Twilight said, “but my vote’s for going on – the sooner we go in tomorrow, the sooner we’re out.” “It’s not that far...” Rainbow tried, wings flashing out as she was already swatting at errant bugs. Not for the first time Squirrel was quietly pleased with her thicker fur. Twilight shook her head doubtfully. “It looks like it’s at least an hour’s row to the next bit; I really think we should get as close as we can, today.” She shot Squirrel a look, hoping for some help, but Squirrel just shrugged ambivalently. “I’d offer my advice, but apparently I’m an awful guide.” It annoyed her to no end when Twilight just gave her an understanding nod in reply. Rainbow let out a whiny groan. “Fiiine,” she pouted. “Let’s just – ugh – let’s just do this, then.” “Thanks, Dash!” Twilight smiled, completely ignoring Rainbow’s grumbling as she plunged her oar back in the water. “We’ll be there before you know it!” Once they got back on course they hurriedly pulled up their oars to busy themselves covering up as best they could. Soon, scarves covered muzzles, jackets were buttoned up to the collar, and in Squirrel’s case, her well-worn touque was pulled down as low as it could go. “So what’re things like up ahead,” she asked. “No real side-rivers or anything,” Rainbow answered, her voice muffled by her scarf. “It’ll branch a little ways ahead – s’long as we keep to the right, we’re good.” “And the other branch? That’s the one that goes back to the Wither, isn’t it?” “Yeah; pity we couldn’t take it getting here.” “Spending an entire day rowing upriver would’ve been a nightmare. I suppose it is our last chance to bail and just walk the Coriander instead, though.” If they hung the coming left they’d soon find themselves at the northern tip of the range ahead; from there, they could neatly swoop around to greet the Coriander on the far side. Of course, the fact that it was unmanageable for such a small craft meant they couldn’t canoe it, but a part of Squirrel still favoured the safe – though lengthy – hike alongside. “Would get to Hurricanum in, oh I don’t know, maybe three days? If we pushed? No eggs or anything.” “You tried this back in Nestle, Squirrel,” Twilight chided her. “Actually, hold on – didn’t you say you would’ve taken us through the mines if you were with us anyways? Because I’m pretty sure I remember you saying that.” “Yeees, but I kind of thought they’d be... grander? Brighter? Friendlier?” That sounded more than a touch naive, even to her. “Sorry – I think Drizzle’s mines spoiled me.” The branch was near enough for them to spot it through thin patches in the reeds. “The ones in Canterlot are nicer than these, too,” Twilight said absently, her attention focused on the fork. “So we’re sticking to the right?” “Seems that way.” “Yep.” They passed by the fork, the path they were on narrowing noticeably once they did. With the speed they were now getting, Squirrel could feel the faintest of breezes on her face; it didn’t quite counter how sweaty and itchy she was, but it was better than nothing. The sun had dipped behind the mountains, leaving them in shade. Despite the coming night, Rainbow had been right – there wasn’t anywhere around worth camping on. “I suppose we could sleep on the canoe,” Twilight mused as the mine came ever nearer. “Although it might be rather cramped.” “That or flatten down the reeds?” Rainbow half-suggested as she frowned at the muddy banks. “Nowhere looks good to take off or land on, so I doubt I can look around for anything before dark.” “Let’s just see what the entrance is like – if it’s big enough and clear, we might be able to find somewhere cool and bug-free just inside,” Twilight insisted. They paddled harder, abandoning their languid pace, as they hoped to get to the entrance before it became too dark to see. Before long they were able to round the final bend and make out the mine for the first time up close. The entrance was wide and low – just like the last exit. The current slowed dramatically as the water pooled in front and well of to the sides of it, as a jagged line of rubble blocked much of the entrance, clearly shorn off from the equally-jagged roof. From where they sat, it resembled nothing more or less than a great, cavernous maw. “How inviting,” Squirrel muttered to herself. “At least there aren’t any egg-clusters about,” Twilight noted, her head on a swivel as she looked around. “Let’s get closer – I’ll cast some light in there and we’ll see what we’ve got.” They aimed the canoe for one of the ‘teeth,’ butting up against the cobble-sized scree at its base. As much as Squirrel didn’t care for the idea of sleeping inside this thing – even just a little ways – the cooler air pouring out of it felt wonderful. Twilight’s horn lit up as a ball of light flew forth into the cavern. The interior was vast and flooded; a small, equipment-filled alcove lay to the right, while the room itself trailed off into the darkness. “Another main tunnel, from the looks of it.” “Should be safe to follow, then,” Squirrel agreed, squinting around for any signs of eggs; bar a general coating of moss and minute ferns, she didn’t see any. The ball darted left and right, thoroughly scouring the entrance. “Probably a small tunnel is what we’ll be looking for on the far side – I’d expect this main one to zigzag up and down the mountain.” “We could always follow it up, then?” Rainbow suggested. “If we need to? Wouldn’t need the canoe anymore, right?” Twilight gave her a funny look. “There’s still a major river left, Dash, and we can hardly swim it.” “I thought you said there was a walking path? We’ll be practically at the city once we get through the mountain, right? So it’s a short walk.” “Oh,” Squirrel said, realizing the problem. “The path’s on the other side of the river. There’s probably a bridge or ford or something somewhere along the line, but I don’t know where it would be.” “Ah, shoot,” Rainbow wilted. “Carrying the boat down the mountain’ll suck.” “Hence the small tunnel,” Twilight said. “So what do you girls think? It looks like there’re some flat areas in there we could camp on.” Squirrel took another look around. There were a few flat spots – more loading platforms? – along the wall nearest the alcove. She also couldn’t make out much in the way of bugs, being presumably too put-off by the cold. “I don’t know,” she dithered nevertheless. “Oh, come on!” Rainbow snapped impatiently. “The exit’s right here and there isn’t anywhere else to go! If a bunch of monsters show up, we’ll just run back out into the open. Where would we even put the boat, anyways?” She waved an arm expansively. “It’s all just mud and reeds!” She wasn’t wrong about that – aside from where they were right now, there wasn’t anywhere they could hope to pull the canoe up high enough to keep it from drifting away with them in it; for that matter, it would probably just drift right back to where they were now. “I guess you’re right... the time to sleep somewhere elsehas kind of passed us by.” “Then let’s gooo!” They dislodged themselves just enough to get caught back up in the current and pulled inside. Following the glowing light, they paddled across the wide chamber, wedging themselves in a nook between two of the platforms. Carefully clambering out, they moored the canoe as best they could, tying it down with ropes looped around little boulders littering the place. “Well,” Squirrel said, looking uneasily around them as the day slowly dimmed outside. “I suppose we should be safe here.” “No bugs, either,” Rainbow added, unraveling her scarf with a happy sigh. She reached into one of her satchels and pulled out a faery shard, lighting it as she did. Twilight dropped her own, brighter light once she had. “Thanks. Let’s get set up for bed – I’m beat.” They quickly pulled out their sleeping bags – extra proof against whatever stray bugs that happened to buzz on over, to say nothing of a ward against the surprisingly chill air – but figured there was no point to the tents in here. It wasn’t long then before Squirrel had crawled into her own bag, twisted such that she could get back out in a hurry; behind her, she could hear Rainbow fidgeting around, doing the same. Despite her worries about what may be lurking further in, it wasn’t long before she fell into an uneasy sleep.