//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Expedition // by Raugos //------------------------------// Lenny slowly peeled his eyelids up and groaned as he stretched to work the kinks out of his limbs. He could still feel the cuts and bruises, and his tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth, but at least some rest had dulled his discomfort to a more tolerable level. Instead of feeling half-dead, he just felt chilly and miserable, though he had to admit that it was far better than getting chewed to bits. But he could look on the bright side of things for only so long; the lamp had gone out. He distinctly remembered telling Reynard to keep it on when they switched places, but apparently he’d failed to do even that. There just enough ambient light from the alien vegetation for him to form a rudimentary image of his immediate surroundings, and as far as he could tell, Reynard was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t hear him, either – only the distant murmur of flowing water and the chittering creatures of the deep. Had something gotten him whilst he slept? It seemed plausible enough, given their circumstances, but he would’ve expected Reynard to put up a fight or call for help if that had happened. But he found no signs of a struggle – no scent of blood, urine or drool of any sort. A sinking feeling crawled in his belly as he groped his way to the supply packs, and it turned to a chill when he felt his stuff clattering loosely inside the baggy canvas. More than half of his food had gone missing, and he was quite sure that an animal wouldn’t have bothered to close the bags, let alone put it back in place. One whole pack had disappeared, too, along with Reynard’s meagre belongings. “Well… crud,” he muttered. That’ll teach me to let my guard down. He really should’ve taken some precautions, but he had been so worn out at the end of his watch that he’d simply forgotten. Growling, he leapt into the air and perched on top of the twin columns over the hollow, squinting as he tried to make out anything that might resemble a griffon sneaking off. The clusters of fungal growths around the place provided enough light to make the rocks cast murky shadows, but there were far too many gaps of pure darkness between them for his liking, and though he did spot some movement here and there, they looked like they belonged to nothing bigger than a rat. After a moment’s consideration, he risked a quick shout of Reynard’s name, but its echoes quickly got lost in the vastness of the abyss. No one answered. Beads of sweat trickled down his temple as the seconds turned to minutes, but he couldn’t come up with a plan to find Reynard, or even decide if that was a good idea at that point. He probably stood a better chance if he just cut his losses and move on from there. Lenny waited another couple of minutes, then glided back down into the hollow to take stock of what Reynard had left behind. Doing it without proper light made the process exceedingly tedious, and his growing desire to punch Reynard did not help at all. His ears perked up when he heard the crunch of loose gravel nearby, and he froze in place. The noise came at irregular intervals, possibly from someone on all fours walking on rough and uneven ground. A dark silhouette appeared at the entrance of the hollow, and it muttered something in Reynard’s voice. Lenny heaved a sigh and growled, “Where the heck have you been off to?” The figure started, and despite the dark, Lenny was positive that Reynard was scowling at him. “I needed to relieve myself. I had no intention of doing it in here,” he replied. Lenny frowned. “Any reason you needed to take half the food with you? And how far did you go? Didn’t you hear me calling?” A moment of silence. Then, Reynard shrugged and huffed, “I considered it… insurance. And I did hear you; I was just a little occupied at the time, and you’ll forgive me for not wanting to draw attention to myself when I was out in the open.” Lenny had already opened his mouth by the time he realised that he had no real retort to that. Reynard did have a point about keeping quiet, though going alone without telling him probably wasn’t the best idea. Not that any of them had come up with brilliant ideas recently, but they really didn’t need to make it easier for the abyss to finish them off. And he definitely didn’t like the bit about ‘insurance’, as if Reynard needed to hold essential stuff hostage to ensure his good behaviour, but he could let that slide for now. Just before the silence got awkward, he found his voice again. “Fine, but next time, let me know if you’re going off somewhere. Did you take the lamp?” The shadowy figure prowled off to one side and scrabbled around for a bit before Lenny heard his talons clinking against glass. Reynard then lifted it up to him and curtly said, “No, I did not. It was with you the whole time.” Lenny blinked a couple of times, then gingerly took the lamp. “You can actually see that well in the dark?” “Well enough, under these conditions. A gift that runs in Karhonnen’s bloodline,” Reynard said with a hint of aloofness in his voice. “Many a time has it allowed my ancestors to thwart an unprepared foe when—” Makes sense. He’s part owl, thought Lenny as he tuned out Reynard’s narration. “Uh huh, that’s nice. It’ll come in real handy for the mess we’re in. Now that you’re back, care to tell me exactly what you took so I can make sure we didn’t lose anything?” “Oh, you mean like the lamp?” He narrowed his eyes. “I was more concerned about the food, actually.” From the silence that ensued, Lenny had a sinking feeling that Reynard’s bag had come back significantly lighter than when it had left. He sighed and beckoned him closer. “Let me see that. How much did you eat?” “Enough to stop feeling like I’m about to collapse any minute,” Reynard said in a measured tone as he tossed the pack at Lenny. “Well, that’s just great,” he muttered after rummaging through its depressingly spacious insides. “I think you just ate a day and a half’s worth of food in a single sitting. Well done.” Reynard sat down with a thump on the crunchy gravel. “You… you cannot be serious. That was barely a snack. I’m not even full!” “Well, sometimes we mortals have to make do.” Lenny snorted and set the bag with the others. He then refilled the lamp and retrieved his flint and firesteel. When the last spark finally set the wick alight, he blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness, fixed Reynard a stern glare and continued, “Especially when we’re miles beneath a mountain with no sure way to replenish our supplies.” “Why would we even need that much food, anyway? It wouldn’t take us that long to climb back to the surface.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s the brightest idea. Not with the giant spiders, flying face-eaters and who knows what else we’d find on the way up. Heck, we couldn’t even finish climbing down. What makes you think we can manage it going the harder way?” “Well, I don’t intend to stay here and rot,” Reynard growled. “We have to try.” “We wouldn’t even make it halfway. Besides, we don’t have any proper gear left for climbing, and,” – Lenny flared his tattered wings in emphasis – “I have trouble flying. If we fall, we’re probably done for. I don’t think we can count on being lucky enough to have webs to catch us a second time. Or not get eaten by the spiders if we do land on them again.” Reynard scowled. “Then what would you suggest?” He shrugged. “Long term? No idea. But for now, I’d say we’d stand a better chance if we first figure out how to avoid starving. And any shelter we find down here is likely to beat what we can find up on the wall. If we’re lucky, we’ll come up with a plan for escape once everything else is settled.” “So, you’re essentially telling me that your plan is to build a quaint little hovel inside a bottomless pit filled with bloodthirsty critters and hope that one day, you might remember that the quickest way out is to go straight up?” Lenny took a moment to parse through his words, then nodded. “Got it in one, except for that last bit. There might be another way out.” “Do tell.” He glanced in the direction of the river, lurking in the darkness beyond. “Well, the abyss does go all the way to the coast. Maybe—” A dry chuckle cut him off. “Oh, that’s rich. It would take us ages to traverse this place horizontally. I thought you didn’t want to die.” Lenny took a slow, steadying breath, unable to decide whether he preferred Reynard as a whinging snob or a nervous wreck. Once he’d fought off the urge to pummel him, he calmly said, “Both plans are stupid. But mine might be a little less stupid because I don’t yet know for sure that it’s impossible. Besides, staying down here gives us a chance to find if anyone else survived. Either way, I’m not budging until I know how we’re supposed to stay on our feet and feed ourselves once the food runs out.” Reynard shook his head. “That’s not good enough for me. We’re wasting time here when we could be making headway to the surface.” He turned and padded over to their stash. “I’m ordering you to leave. Pick these up and let’s go.” “No.” Slowly, Reynard turned around to face him. “What?” Lenny settled down comfortably on his belly and shook his head. “You heard me. I said no.” Reynard dropped the pack he held and folded his arms. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten after that knock to your head – it looks admittedly severe, I’ll give you that – but I hired you, not the other way around. I expect you to do your job and follow orders.” “You hired me to help you find the idol and get back home in one piece, and that’s what I plan to do. Getting home alive, I mean. I’m pretty sure that we can scratch the idol off the list of priorities at this point.” “You gave your word to follow my orders on this expedition.” Reynard’s crest rose as he took a step forward and growled, “Does that mean nothing to you?” “What?” “Don’t play coy with me!” He swept a hand out viciously, as if decapitating someone. “You know full well what I’m referring to, or were you merely lying to stop Sir Grell from humiliating you in view of everyone?” A little heat rose into Lenny’s ears as he remembered how easily Grell had beaten him in a fight that couldn’t have lasted longer than a minute at most. Still, credit where it was due, and luckily for him, the one who’d earned his respect wasn’t the one demanding it right now. Grinning wryly, he said, “And he’s absolutely welcome to beat me within an inch of my life for breaking my promise. I think I’ll take that over getting eaten or splattered on the rocks, thanks. But Grell’s not here, and besides, I get the feeling that he’d side with me on this. Until we come up with a plan that isn’t guaranteed to get us all killed, we should stay on the ground where it’s safe.” Reynard arched an eyebrow. “Safe?” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, relatively safe.” “That’s just… you…” Reynard raised and pointed a talon at him, but slowly lowered it as his words petered out. Then, he threw up both hands and spat on the ground. “Damnation, I should have known better than to hire a pony to do a griffon’s job. I thought you lot were supposed to be good at following instructions.” “Well, feel free to crack out the whip at any time,” Lenny retorted with a toothy grin. “Fair warning: I kick and bite.” Reynard’s eye twitched. Lenny tensed up as his hand edged closer to the sheathed dagger on his belt. He had his own knife, but that lay out of reach somewhere in the pile with the rest of his belongings. Not that he needed it, though; he felt reasonably confident that he could take him on with just wings and hooves if things got ugly. Still, Reynard didn’t seem all that keen on getting physical, so that just left them staring at one another, accompanied by the faint, distant chittering of insects and dripping water. Their shadows stretched, long and forlorn in the flickering lamplight. A minute or two passed. Reynard eventually muttered something that might’ve been about Lenny’s parentage before stomping off into the dark. The crunch of gravel and shifting stones didn’t get too faint before they stopped, so he guessed that he’d simply gone a short distance to sulk in private. That suited him just fine. He probably could do with a little cooling off as well. Might as well be useful while I’m at it. He dug through their supplies and stuffed his slingshot, hunting knife and water canteen together in one of the battered travel bags, the one with multiple compartments. After a moment’s thought, the tinderbox and flint went in as well. The oil wouldn’t last forever, so it wouldn’t hurt to start searching for something else to burn. If he lucked out, he might even find an alternative like glow worms or fireflies whilst out foraging. A shadow of doubt snuck up on him just as he grabbed the lamp, though. Taking it would mean leaving Reynard in the dark. Although he didn’t really need it by his own admittance, it still felt a little too backstabby for his taste, even if the snob did deserve a crack on the beak. It took him a couple of minutes to find Reynard a little ways off from their hollow, hunched over as he sat on the ground fiddling with something in his talons that glinted in the lamplight. Jewellery of some sort – maybe a ring, by the looks of it. “Hey.” Reynard didn’t look his way as he murmured, “What is it now?” “I’m going foraging, and there’s only one light.” “So?” “You’ll either have to come with me or wait in the dark.” Lenny quickly glanced around with his ears perked. He didn’t pick up anything particularly unnerving amidst the background chatter of insects, but that offered little comfort, given what they’d gone through. “Best if we stick together.” Reynard scoffed but still didn’t turn to face him. “Afraid to go out alone?” “Actually, I was going to mention safety in numbers and that you might learn a thing or two about foraging,” Lenny muttered as he rolled his eyes, “but sure, let’s go with that.” “Leave me be.” “Look, we—” “I said leave me be!” Reynard snapped as he spun round and flared his wings. Barely a moment later, the fire went out of his eyes, and he slowly wilted as he turned away. “I… I cannot. I am in no shape to assist you with… whatever task you have set for yourself. Take the lamp or leave it. I don’t care. Just go.” Lenny simply stared at him. Then, he set the lamp on the ground and started forward, one wing raised in preparation to shake or slap some sense into him. But something about the way Reynard seemed to have shrunken in on himself made Lenny slow down, until he came to a complete stop only a couple of strides away. Great. Now he’s depressed, too. He suppressed a growl and sighed. “All right. I know it’s been a lousy day, but it would really be great if you could help me with the foraging. I know you paid us to do all the work, but with just the two of us left, you’re going to have to pick up some of the slack.” No answer. “Okay, fine.” Lenny turned back and hooked the lamp onto his bag, then plodded off in the river’s direction. “Stay in camp and try not to do anything crazy. If I’m not back in three or maybe four hours…” He paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. Reynard hadn’t moved. Frowning, he shook his head and murmured, “Never mind. Just hope I do come back.” The walk down to the river felt longer than he remembered, but then again, he didn’t have to stop every now and then to leave markers for helping him find his way back the last time. He used rocks to make little mounds and stuck debris like bits of driftwood in the middle in such a way that no one would ever mistake them for natural formations, all leading to the leaning twin columns that formed their shelter. They might even increase the odds of someone finding them, if anyone else had survived the fall. An unearthly chill refused to stop crawling over him as he trudged on. He had a hard time not thinking about the others. Gilda, Erin, or maybe one of Reynard’s soldiers lying on the ground, screams frozen onto their faces, eyes glassy and lifeless… Quit it! Lenny shook his head and growled to himself. No time for freaking out. Survive. Nothing bothered him on the way there save for a few buzzing insects almost as large as dragonflies that tried to land on him. For what purpose, he couldn’t tell, and he did not care to find out if they wanted to suck on his blood or sting him. Flapping his wings or flicking his tail kept most of them away, and the couple that didn’t take the hint got squished easily enough. Closer to the river, the gravel gave way to mud and stagnant water. Massive clumps of worms and other glistening creepy-crawlies writhed in the shallow pools, and after slipping and sliding knee-deep into one of them, he decided to risk a little flying. He didn’t know if the abyss had any native skin-burrowing parasites and was quite happy to leave it at that. After a series of short glides and a longer sweep along the river’s edge, he found a convenient outcropping of stable rock overlooking a miniature cove of sorts. The crystal-clear water was calm there, almost still. The rounded edge sloped downward at a rather gentle incline, two or three metres deep. Disappointingly small fish swam close to the bottom – hardly worth the effort unless he had a proper net for catching a whole lot of them. The clusters of shellfish stuck to the sides of the cove looked more promising, though. On the other side of the rock, the expansive river flowed at a steady pace. Not quickly enough to form white rapids, but he could see large, smooth humps of water where they flowed over submerged rocks without breaking the surface. Once he’d set down his stuff safely away from the water, he sat at the edge of the rock and held out the lamp over the dark surface of the river. For a while, nothing notable happened. Then, his heart quickened when he saw a silvery flash. He hadn’t been wrong the first time; there were fish of respectable size in the river. It was just too bad that he hadn’t found anything on the way there which he could’ve used to make a fishing spear. A quick flight around the area confirmed that there was nothing useful nearby. That just left him with the mussels. They were too deep for him to reach from the edge, and he had no idea if the river even had a low tide to count on for exposing them. He’d have to swim – and expose himself to anything possibly lurking in the water. Having Audri around would be great right about now. Sighing, he dimmed the light and lay in wait, watching the river for any sign of predators. A moment later, he found himself wondering what his big sister was doing right then. His ears drooped. They used to go spearfishing together when they were little – and they’d mercilessly tease one another for every mistake, which sometimes escalated to lively scuffles that rarely wound down until their teacher threatened to sell them to the circus. Lenny wiped the half-formed smile off his face and pushed the thoughts away. Not the best of times to get distracted. He didn’t see anything really noteworthy as the minutes passed. No large shadows moving beneath the surface or glinting eyes of any sort, save for the fish out of his reach. No sudden splashes or swirling clouds of disturbed mud. The flowing water and its gurgling soothed him, though. Almost to the point where he could forget his scrapes and bruises. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine sitting by the river on a cool evening somewhere in the foothills of Western Griffonia. At least, only in the intervals between muffled fluttering or chirps in the shadows. Those noises easily pierced the illusion and made his hairs stand on end whenever he heard them relatively close by. After nearly losing his composure for the third time, he took his knife out and kept it mounted on his foreleg brace just in case something decided to tangle with him. Half an hour must’ve passed by then, maybe more, and he’d seen no sign of gators or anything else that might attack him in the water. On most days, he might’ve waited longer and taken more precautions, but he didn’t have the luxury this time. Aside from the icy coldness, which was probably because it came from the glaciers up north, he found nothing objectionable about the water, so he drank to his satisfaction and filled up his canteen. Then, he set the lamp at the water’s edge and dipped a foreleg in, resisting the urge to withdraw from the biting cold. Good for drinking, but he couldn’t say the same about swimming in it. Gritting his teeth, he held on to the edge with his forelegs and went in hind legs first. He fought to keep from shivering too much as the water lapped around his nether region and allowed himself to sink up to his neck. After taking a moment to steady his breathing, he filled his lungs and dove under. Between the lamp and the crystal-clear water, he had no difficulty making out the mussels all nicely clustered up on the rocks. He just needed to work fast and prize them off before he got chilled to the bone. Prying mussels off the rocks was repetitive, brainless work, and he appreciated its effectiveness at keeping him from thinking too much about the present circumstances – just a familiar and comfortable task to lose himself in for some time. A little pressure here, some leverage there, back and forth, a twist and a firm tug. Turn around to check his surroundings. Go up for air, then dive and repeat. One by one, he plucked them loose with their root-like beards trailing sediment, and chucked them out of the water. Easy pickings. The chill soon got to him, though. It started with the occasional shiver in his midriff that soon worked its way through him until his entire body trembled, and no amount of steady breathing whilst treading water could make it stop. Yeah, I’ve had enough. He’d collected just over a dozen decent mussels at that point, more if he counted the damaged, undersized or potentially unhealthy ones. Probably couldn’t ask for more, all things considered, so he grabbed onto the edge and prepared to haul himself out. Then, something in the water caught his eye. Blinking, Lenny turned around and floated quietly, listening with cocked ears as he scanned the river. Bluish light pulsed beneath the surface. Almost imperceptible in contrast to the yellow reflections of the lamp, but definitely something new. Though he really wanted to get out of the cold, identifying the light’s source might prove useful later on, so he took in a deep breath and plunged beneath the surface. Once below, he only needed to wait for a couple of seconds before the light pulsed again. This time, it didn’t go out. A tiny orb of turquoise light bobbed in the darkness just beyond the little cove, illuminating any bubbles or dirt that the current dragged past it. Lenny squinted as he swam toward it with an outstretched hoof. It might serve as a substitute for the lamp when he eventually ran out of oil, or it might fetch a good price as an exotic oddity from the bottom of the abyss. Heck, if nothing else, he might just keep it as a pet if it was a living thing. He never really considered himself the artsy or expressive type, but even he had to admit that it looked beautiful, and he really, really wanted it. A blue moon in a vast, starless night sky. A precious light guiding the lost. Bobbing like a luminous fishing line’s float in the— He froze. Oh no. Slowly, as imperceptibly as he could, he used his wings to propel himself backward to the river bank. His heart raced and pounded so loudly in his ears that he almost expected the noise to bring every predator in hearing distance down on him instantly. He fought to keep his shivers to a minimum, even as the burning in his lungs warned of a growing need for air and demanded that he make a frantic break for the surface. But he knew better. No sudden movements. The light followed him. Every fibre of his being screamed for him to explode into action, but he refused. As it entered the lamp’s radius of illumination, a hulking, pitch-black form materialised behind the turquoise orb. So black that he saw it not because of the lamp shining on it, but because it ate up all the light and stayed a dark blob in contrast to the stones and grey mud of the river bed. A huge, misshapen head with thin, serrated teeth poking out from a broad, indistinct mouth. Oar-like fins lazily undulating on either side of its body. Massive, globular eyes fit to swallow him in their lightless depths if he looked too closely. His back bumped against rock. Just a little more… His hind hooves found purchase on the slope, and he edged closer and closer to the surface. The hulking shadow filled nearly half of the cove, its turquoise orb still dancing before him like a confused shrimp just asking to be eaten. Then, he bent his hind legs and tucked in his wings. Now! He leapt up with all his strength. His head exploded out of the water, and as soon as his wings breached the surface, he spread them out and propelled himself with as much downward thrust as he could bring to bear. Water fountained up with him and rained from his coat as he frantically pumped his wings, and he slowed to a laborious hover only after reaching a height of at least two storeys above the water. Almost anticlimactically, the monstrous fish hadn’t lunged after him. It simply swam a lazy circle in the cove, as if puzzled by the disappearance of its prey. The shadow eased itself out of the cove and into the river proper, and then the blue light winked out of existence. He realised that it wasn’t quite as monstrous as he’d thought whilst in the water with it – no larger than an adult gator – but it was still big enough to ignore his dinky knife had it decided to attack. Probably hadn’t gone for the kill because it had never seen anything like him before. Lenny dropped back onto the ground and hurriedly dragged or tossed his belongings farther away from the water’s edge. A couple of shellfish tumbled off the pile and back into the water, but they could stay there for all he cared. Once he had everything a safe distance from the water, he heaved a massive sigh and simply sat on his haunches, staring off into space as water dripped from his mane. His chest throbbed and his breaths came in short, rapid bursts through chattering teeth. Now that the adrenaline had worn of, he could feel the chill digging into him through his sopping wet coat. He couldn’t stop shivering as he pictured a huge maw clamping down on him, sinking its long teeth into his meat as it dragged him screaming into the depths. Gone without a trace. But eventually, his heart rate and breathing slowed to a reasonable pace until he could trust himself to move without shivering like a nervous wreck. A blinding flash lit up the world around him, and he winced at the brightness and shielded his eyes with a hoof. Then, as he sat there shaking his head and trying to blink the afterimages out of his vision, an ominous rumble filled the darkness around him. He frowned. Thunder and lightning. At the bottom of a several-miles-deep gorge? It had come from somewhere downriver. Far, far away, judging by the delay between the flash and rumble. Lenny sniffed the air and found it thick with humidity, carrying the promise of rain. After everything he’d seen, he didn’t feel inclined to doubt the possibility. There’d be time to figure out how it worked later, preferably in the comfort of nice, dry shelter. Without the sun or a towel, he did his best to dry off by shaking his hair and feathers. A hiss escaped him when he felt a stinging sensation on his back, and his fetlock came back with little streaks of red after rubbing it. His straining must’ve reopened the cuts. Nothing he could do about that at the moment, so he quickly packed everything into the bag and hurried off with the lamp bouncing at his side. Finding the way back was easy enough; he simply went to the nearest marker he’d set and retraced his steps through the marshy grounds. More buzzing insects harassed him along the way, but he easily fended them off with his wings without suffering more than a couple of bites. They itched almost immediately, but at least they weren’t immediately debilitating. Hopefully he’d suffer no worse effects as the day – or night, he couldn’t tell – wore on. He passed a few of those fungal ‘groves’ on the way. Despite the urgent niggling at the back of his mind to return to camp at full speed, he found himself slowing down to get a better look. From a distance, the fungal growths resembled leafless, skeletal trees, and their amber, luminescent globes glowed like lanterns hung in the woods for a festival. Bugs of various sizes trundled about, grazing on the organic matter that covered the ground like a lumpy, mushy carpet. On occasion, something would lunge, snare one of the grazers and vanish back into the shadows, leaving its prey’s startled chirp as the only evidence of its presence. Most of the critters skittered away as he approached them, and he found himself wondering if any were edible. If he squinted just right, he could almost see some of them as bulkier, creepier crayfish that could go on land. They couldn’t be much harder to hit with his slingshot than rats, and he had plenty of practice with the latter. Maybe next time. For now, he would make do with a few samples of fungus. The globes’ meaty stems gave little resistance when he sliced through them with the knife, and he nodded in approval when he found that the severed ends didn’t leak any fluids. The globes kept glowing steadily as he stuffed them into the bag, separate from the other goods. He cleaned his knife, then went on his way. Just before reaching the gravelly shore, Lenny spotted something glimmering from the bottom of a muddy rock pool. After stopping and circling the pool to ensure that the golden thing wasn’t another predator’s lure, he fished it out of the pool and held it close to the lamp for inspection. His eyes widened. It was a gold coin of sorts, a little warped and notched at the edges. Definitely not an Equestrian bit – ponies liked their coins real thick and heavy, whereas this one was relatively thin and elegant – and it didn’t look like any of the mints used by griffon clans. At least, nothing this century. His pulse quickened when he realised that he might be holding something from a bygone era – before ponies had mastered the world, when Griffonia had kings. He glanced up at the miles of darkness separating him from civilisation and wondered what kind of journey this coin must’ve endured. Yep. This one’s a keeper. He carefully put it into a separate compartment of his travel bag and hurried on. He’d already left Reynard alone for a few hours. Silence greeted him at the campsite. He called out in a low voice as he crept about, searching for Reynard. No one answered. Upon searching the hollow, he realised that someone had gone through their stuff same as before. One bag missing, the others somewhat lighter. Again? Really? This is getting old. Lenny ground his teeth and kicked a stone into the shadows. At worst, he’d hoped to find Reynard snoring in the hollow, or maybe sulking somewhere nearby, but no, he had to go on another adventure by himself. He kicked another stone, but instead of sailing after the first one, it struck the rock column and rebounded onto his forehead. Snarling, he picked it up and hurled it out into the darkness. As its clacks and clatters faded away, he noticed an unusually bright speck of yellow light in the distance, upriver and relatively close to the wall. At first he thought he’d spotted someone with a lamp, but it neither flickered nor moved. Still, it deserved some investigation for being far brighter than any form of natural luminescence he’d seen so far. He just needed to play it safe and approach it nice and slow; the last thing he wanted was another close call like the one in the river. Armed with just his knife, slingshot and a dimmed lamp, he dumped his bag with the others and trotted towards the light at a steady pace. The light did not waver or shift as he closed the distance. When he had narrowed it to about a hundred metres between them, he could make out a clothed figure lying prone and unmoving as a vaguely pony-like shadow stood close by with its snout low to the ground. Lenny considered calling out to them, until he recalled that their original party had no other pony members. So, he’d either found someone from a separate expedition by pure luck, or ponies actually lived in the Abysmal Abyss. He stood still for a moment, flicking his tail as he watched, but when no other useful information presented itself, he decided to press on in silence. No sense in making himself known until he had a better idea of how they’d react. The lamp would probably give away his position if he got any closer, so he hid it behind a boulder and stalked forward with as much speed as he dared. His heart skipped a beat when he got close enough to recognise Reynard sprawled on the ground, unconscious. The orange-yellow light which had drawn him closer came from an amulet of sorts around his neck – the crystal at its tip lay next to his head, highlighting the misaligned and ruffled feathers. His blue cloak had new rips and tears streaked with dirt and what looked suspiciously like blood. A little farther behind him lay the missing bag, sporting similar damage to his cloak’s – probably the result of sharp claws or teeth. More importantly, he could finally make out the finer aspects of the ‘pony’ circling Reynard like a scavenging wolf. What the heck is that thing? It had greyish-black, glossy hide with armour-like segmentation at its joints and various parts on its chest, curved horn on forehead, tubular ears, a spiny crest similar to a fish’s where a mane should be and glassy wings on its back. Its amber eyes had no pupils, and he wasn’t sure if they glowed or were simply reflecting light from Reynard’s amulet. More distinctly, its limbs were pockmarked with holes that seemed to go through the entire appendages. Like cheese. A cheesy bug pony. Just then, it plodded over to Reynard and sniffed at his head. Then, it opened its mouth, and Lenny saw the fangs. Predator. With practiced speed, he fitted his slingshot onto his bracer and stuffed a few choice shot stones into his mouth as he leapt into the air. His heart raced as he beat his wings hard to compensate for the damaged feathers, and the buggy pony heard him coming. It whipped its head up and locked eyes with him just as he placed a stone in the slingshot’s pocket. He then bit down on the hard strip behind the pocket and pulled his head back whilst straightening his left foreleg, feeling the wood, leather and stretching rubber creak as he put more and more tension on them and lined up his shot. Eat this! He released. The stone whizzed through the air and struck the creature on its neck. It yelped and leaped backwards, hissing and baring its pointy teeth. Lenny kept his flight path in a tight circle around the bug pony and spat out another stone into the sling’s pocket. Its ears flattened and it shrank back when he took aim again – it apparently knew a weapon when it saw one – and snarled when the stone struck its back. Crouching low, it then leaped into the air with stunning speed. “Oh, feathers.” Lenny dropped a couple of stones as he rolled aside to avoid its snapping jaws. He pumped his wings and put on a burst of speed to gain some height, then released another shot just before the creature could properly adjust its trajectory. The stone punched through one of its buzzing wings, and it let loose a piteous shriek as it dropped to the ground and turned tail. Lenny almost felt sorry about the parting shot that struck it in the rump, but he needed it to get the message not to faff around with him. Especially not when he’d have his hands full dealing with an unconscious and hopefully not fatally-wounded Reynard. Once the creature had fled out of earshot, he dropped to Reynard’s side. “Hey, can you hear me? What happened?” Reynard groaned. Okay, not dead. Good. Lenny pulled his cloak away to inspect for injuries. He found some cuts and scratches on his back, hind legs and the leading edges of his wings. They bled a little, but most of them were already clotting up, staining his tunic. He found some swelling, too, after carefully flipping him onto his side to check his chest and belly. Nothing serious, as far as he could tell, though he did worry about how little resistance Reynard put up at the invasion of personal space. His breathing sounded mostly normal save for a little wheezing. His half-lidded eyes had rolled back into his head. He put a hoof on his shoulder and shook him gently. “Come on, come on. Don’t play dead. Can you hear me?” One blink. Then two. Slowly, Reynard opened his eyes and took an eternity to focus on him. “Oh, hells. Not you again,” he slurred. Lenny rolled his eyes. “Happy to see you, too. What happened? Did that thing drag you off?” He got an incoherent murmur for an answer. “Right. Guess I’ll ask later. Can you move?” More mumbling and a tiny nod. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed Reynard’s bag, stowed his slingshot and then helped him onto all fours. Thankfully, Reynard had enough coordination and presence of mind to lean on him and hold on with one arm around his shoulder rather than act like an inanimate sack of rocks. They stumbled and staggered their way back to the boulder where he’d hidden the lamp, then all the way back to camp. Once Lenny had him lying in a relatively comfortable position, he set about cleaning his wounds. Only a couple really needed proper attention; he bandaged them with strips torn from Reynard’s cloak, despite his feeble protests. The rest should scab up easily enough. By his reckoning, Reynard had probably collapsed from overexerting himself, either fighting or fleeing from whatever creatures that had bitten or clawed at him. He gradually regained lucidity with each passing minute, so at least he hadn’t been driven to the point of fatal exhaustion. Too bad that his sullenness grew at a matching pace; he didn’t volunteer any information about his little ‘adventure’ even after Lenny had finished treating him. At least the amulet made his job much easier. Warm, golden light poured out of the teardrop crystal’s facets with an intensity that almost matched a campfire. Magical stuff like that did not come cheap in Griffonia. “W’thr…” He cocked his ears and leaned closer. “Eh?” “W—water…” Reynard croaked. “Right.” He made a quick dash to the bags and swiped the canteen, then passed it to him after removing the stopper. Reynard drank so greedily that for a moment Lenny thought he might actually choke. Once sated, he gave it back half-empty with the barest hint of gratitude in his curt nod. Lenny took a swig himself, set the canteen aside and then pointed at the teardrop crystal hanging from Reynard’s neck. “Okay, we seriously need to talk. What happened? And where did you get that from?” “I had… a minor setback.” Reynard didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, no.” He shook his head. “I’m going to need way more than that. Say, like what attacked you, and did you do something to tick it off? Because I’m probably going to be the one dealing with it if it comes back later.” Reynard winced as he stretched his foreleg and rubbed a tender spot on the back of his neck. “They didn’t come to me.” “They? You’re still awfully vague,” he growled, feeling some heat working its way into his temper. “Come on. You owe me a little explanation for saving your butt multiple times already.” “I tried climbing out on my own, all right?” Reynard snapped. “I took what I could carry and flew straight up.” Oh, nice going. Really. Lenny felt his forgotten headache squeezing its way back into his skull, and the inside of his nostrils felt a little drippy, but he kept his expression neutral and asked, “How far did you get?” “It is difficult to tell. I flew up straight for maybe an hour, cutting my way through any webs I came across. When the winds became too strong to fight, I climbed. And then…” He huddled up like a chick in the cold, and his wings twitched as he gazed into the distance. He shuddered. “You can’t imagine how many filthy creatures make their nests in the wall.” Pretty sure I can, actually… “All manner of monstrosities harried me on my way up, until I encountered those… flying screechers again.” He shook his head. “I descended, and they gave up only once I got below the webs.” “Rough landing?” “Clearly.” Reynard presented his swollen, scraped forelegs, then leaned back with a grimace as he gingerly massaged them. “I had no recourse but to return to camp, except that I lost my way… and apparently my consciousness as well. And here we are.” Lenny frowned as he remembered the creature sniffing at Reynard’s unconscious form, its amber eyes boring into him as he lined up a shot. “What about the bug pony thing? Where did that come from?” Reynard stared at him. “What? I saw no such creature.” “The thing that was going to eat your face when I found you.” “I passed out, so I have no idea what you’re talking about. I do not recall encountering anything remotely like a pony down here.” He blinked a couple of times, then added with a shrug, “Except for you, of course.” Okay, so we’ll figure out where Bug Pony came from later. “One more thing.” Lenny jabbed a hoof at his glowing amulet. “What’s that and where did you get it?” Reynard started and looked at him with shrunken pupils, as if he’d just realised that he’d said something inappropriate. Slowly, he glanced down, delicately caressed it with his hand and murmured, “It was a gift.” “An awfully useful one, I’ll bet,” Lenny said as he folded his forelegs. “And you didn’t say anything about it before. Why?” Reynard fiddled around with the crystal for a moment, then locked eyes with him. “Do you trust me?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Exactly what I said. Do you trust me?” Lenny frowned, wondering if it was a trick question. Reynard seemed to have gained an awful lot of composure since touching it. Still, if he wanted an honest answer… “No. Not with my life, at any rate.” “You’ve answered your question.” Reynard closed a fist around the crystal, whispered softly to it, and the warm, golden light vanished. He then casually slid it out of sight into his tunic. “The feeling is mutual, Lenny Redtail – you’ll forgive me for keeping a few secrets that might tip the scales in my favour, should you ever find yourself weighing my life against yours.” Seriously? Lenny found it difficult to navigate Reynard’s logic with the renewed throbbing just behind his eyes. And just then, the insides of his nostrils itched. He scrunched up his snout to relieve it, but it simply tickled and itched harder until he drew a short, sharp breath, followed by a couple of false starts before he let loose a mighty sneeze. As he blinked to clear his watering eyes, a ticklish thread of snot dripped from one nostril, which he hurriedly wiped away with a fetlock. By the time his brain had caught up to what he’d done, he found Reynard staring him with the corners of his beak curled in disgust. “Heh. Excuse me.” Lenny pulled his head back and sniffled to keep anything else from dribbling out. “You… never mind. I’m deathly tired and I just want this nightmare to end when I wake up.” Reynard winced as he yawned and crawled a few tail lengths to a more comfortable spot with finer gravel and fewer rocks. And without further ceremony, he collapsed into a sagging heap and snored away. That yawn was contagious. Unfortunately, Lenny could not follow up on it with a nap despite the fatigue threatening to seep into his bones and bog him down like heavy mud. He smacked himself in the cheek with a wing to ward off the drowsiness and marched to their stash, where he busied himself for a while sorting their inventory to his satisfaction. Everything was more or less in order, except for the fungal globes. Since they’d gone impractically dim and mushy in less than an hour, he could rule them out as a replacement for the lamp. Good thing that Reynard has a magical backup, then, he thought as he chucked them out of sight. Once he had everything accounted for and a rough idea of how long they could last with their present supplies, he perched atop the twin rock columns over their hollow and took the first watch. Lightning flashed in ‘sky’ further downriver, filtered through a thick, grey expanse of clouds that completely filled the abyss from wall to wall. Thunder reverberated through rock and his bones alike. He sneezed again and grimaced as a shiver worked its way through him from head to tail. Cold conditions had never gotten to him that easily before, but then again, he usually hadn’t first fallen into bottomless pits and fought giant spiders before swimming in freezing water. Some adventure we're having, all right. Reynard had hired them to get him in and out of the abyss alive, and then nearly offed himself trying to do it alone. And Lenny, a reasonably seasoned hunter, had just caught a cold after nearly getting himself eaten by a fish. He wasn’t sure, but something about that must’ve been hilarious. Nothing else would explain why he had a grin on his face. Gilda might’ve been on to something. We’re a bunch of morons.