The corridors that breathe

The lower gallery had not been dug for soldiers. The ceilings there forced Rhylor to lower his head and the recesses seemed to move as we moved forward. The air circulated through invisible ducts, bringing in turn a smell of water, ash and mushroom.

Nym stopped at each branch to listen.

"Do you hear something? Zaelyra asked.

"I hear the gallery breathing. The current changes according to the opening of the doors."

"And it helps us?"

"It helps me to know when someone has opened a door."

Nym took a thin strip of oiled paper out of his bag and hung it from the crack. She shivered inward.

"The gallery behind the wall sucks in the air."

"What's there?" asked Pell.

"Another gallery."

"You don't know?"

"If I knew, I would tell you."

"The maps are not used to know before you go?"

Nym folded the paper. "The maps are used not to forget what we learned while going there."

Zaelyra noted the direction of the breath. The paper had revealed a passage, but not its length or destination. She indicated the crack by an interrupted line, not by a solid line.

"Did you learn that on your own? Nym asked.

"I learned to draw what the masters want to see. The rest, I'm learning now."

"This is how you become a cartographer."

"In disobedience?"

"Idmitting that a map can be wrong. Disobedience comes after."

He put two fingers on the floor. The air current came from the north, although the passage descended to the south. Nym pointed to a crack at knee height.

"A second gallery passes behind the wall. If it is open, we are not alone."

Rhylor squats. "This crack did not exist on the records."

"The statements are old," says Zaelyra.

"Or someone made them old on purpose."

They found the door after an hour of walking. It was hidden by a curtain of mineral roots, just flexible enough to let a person pass. On the other side, a slope descended towards a round chamber. Footprints covered the dust, some recent, others so old that they were just directionless footprints.

Pell set foot in the room.

"Not there," says Nym.

He stepped forward and showed him a row of holes at ground level. The traps had been disarmed, but the stone around the triggers was freshly chipped.

The girl had stopped behind Zaelyra. She held her box against her stomach, both arms clasped around the lid. His gaze went from Pell to the holes, then to the door through which they had entered. Zaelyra showed him the opposite wall. The girl nodded and got on it without letting go of the box.

"Does anyone want us to know that he has passed? Zaelyra asked.

"Or that we think he has passed."

Sszindi leaned against the wall. His breathing was wheezing. The wound on his side had reopened and his bandage was dark.

"We can't move fast," says Zaelyra.

"We can't stop for long," Rhylor replied.

Pell took Sszindi's gourd and handed it to him. The old woman refused at first, then tooka a sip. The boy was barely old enough to be sent to carry messages, but his gaze followed every exit.

"Did you learn how to treat wounds? Zaelyra asked him.

"My mother worked in the kitchens of a house. She said that cuts always happen when healers are elsewhere."

"Where is she?"

Pell tightened the cap. "She took another road."

He did not specify if she had chosen to leave, or if she had not had time to choose. Zaelyra didn't ask the question. She had already understood that a story did not belong to the one who wanted to hear it.

The old drow pushed Pell's hand away when he wanted to help her. "I can walk. I just can't run."

Before leaving, Nym examined the row of holes near the threshold. He measured them with the foldable rod, then compared their spacing to that of the steps in the dust. A trace stopped in front of the third cavity, as if its owner had understood the trap in time.

"Someone disarmed the first two," he says. "The third is intact."

Rhylor passed first, along the opposite wall. He didn't touch the traps. On the other side, he placed a copper slat near the wall.

"If someone comes back, she will move."

"What if the draft moves it?"

"Then we'll know the power has changed."

The lamella remained motionless.

Nym slid his stem along the wall. A few fingers from the ground, a narrow cornice ran around the room, interrupted by a crack but wide enough to put the foot aside. He measured the gap between the ledge and the three triggers, then asked Rhylor to check the stone from the other side. He hit twice with the knob of his dagger. The sound remained clear until the crack; beyond, it became hollow.

"You can go through the cornice, but not all at the same time," says Nym. "And no one puts their foot beyond this slot."

Rhylor attached a rope to an iron ring sealed in the wall. Zaelyra tested the anchoring of all his weight before letting Pell stretch the line towards the other edge. They put Sszindi first. She protested, then accepted when the wound pulled under her bandage. Zaelyra supported her by the forearm; Pell hold the rope without pulling, as she had been asked.

The girl crossed after them. She kept the box tied to her wrist by a strap. Halfway through, his boot slid on the wet stone. She froze instead of throwing herself towards the wall. Rhylor reached out from the other side; Zaelyra held the rope. The girl found her support and finished the crossing without opening the box.

Nym passed with his instruments. Pell followed him, then Zaelyra. None of the holes opened under their steps. When the last one had joined Rhylor, he unhooked the rope, but left the copper slat in place. She would signal a return, not an intention.

Zaelyra noted the location, then added Nym's measure and Rhylor's warning. The map became a conversation between their knowledge: each brand called for a verification by someone else.

Sszindi, who had observed them, said: "You make maps as we share a vigil."

"Is it different? Zaelyra asked.

"A day before, we know it ends. A map, people can keep it when you are no longer there."

His layout was no longer just a description of the terrain. He also kept the precautions of those who had traveled it.

The corridors behind them brought them closer to the guards; in front, the road remained unknown.

"We're making a stop here. Nym, is looking for a stable airway. Rhylor, check the entries. Pell, helps Sszindi change his bandage."

"Do you give orders now?" asked Rhylor.

"I distribute the tasks. If anyone has a better idea, let him say it."

No one spoke.

Pell unties the blackened bandage. He rinsed the edge of the wound with the bottom of a gourd, then cut a strip in the lining of his cape. Sszindi clenched his teeth while he tightened it; when he had finished, his breath became shorter, without the pain disappearing.

Nym found a narrow duct that pulled the air down. He fixed a copper wire on it and observed its vibration. Zaelyra sat near Sszindi. The old drow kept her eyes open, but every movement of her mouth seemed to cost her.

"Who told you about Veyr? Zaelyra asked.

"A man who had lost a son on the road."

Rhylor turned his head away.

"Did you know him?"

"No," replied Sszindi. "He never gave us his name. He told us to look for the open circle plate."

Rhylor's hand closed on his own plate.

"And you believed it? He asked.

"We needed a road. People who have the choice ask this question. The others try."

The answer remained in the room long after Sszindi closed his eyes.

When Nym returned, the copper wire vibrated in jerks, in the opposite direction of the first time.

"The power just changed. It may be a sign that a door has opened behind us. I don't know which one, or who would have opened it."

Rhylor turned off the lamps. "So let's get going again."

Zaelyra looked at the route she had started. The lower gallery was the only one whose slope they knew and that they had already traveled; it marked their stop with a sign, not their destination. "We'll pick up there. Slowly. If the current changes again, we stop before choosing."

Pell put Sszindi's arm around his shoulders. This time, she didn't push him away. They engaged in the gallery without light, each step transmitted from one to the other by the rope that Rhylor kept stretched between them.