The path of the hot stones

The first day behind the bronze door was the slowest since Veyr. The tunnel rose and turned constantly, and the heat rising from the depths made the air thick. The post's guides had indicated three possible stops; two were marked with a crossed-out circle.

Ysil stopped in front of the first. "We can't sleep there. The ceiling has cracked since my last visit."

The merchant showed the map. "However, it indicates a stop."

"She says there was one."

"It should be written."

"It is, on the plate I returned to the post."

"And we don't have it."

Zaelyra noticed the difference between the plate and the copy. They had never received the last update, only an old map with Ysil's oral corrections. They could have blamed the guide for not knowing everything; it would not have repaired the map.

They bypassed the stop by a narrow conduit, wide enough for walkers but not for stretchers. The wearers had to remove the straps and pass the injured person sitting on a canvas. He didn't complain, but his face turned pale.

"We stop," says Zaelyra.

"We haven't passed the conduit yet," protested the merchant.

"He won't be able to continue if we push him."

The group chooses to waste an hour and build a support to transport it. The two carriers would not be enough; three other travelers joined them. The merchant ends up taking the last stretcher, without comment.

Beyond that, the gallery opened on a set of rooms where the floor was lukewarm. Amber crystals ran through the walls. The light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Tazri, who had never seen such a clear glow, stopped in the middle of the passage.

"Is it the day?"

"No," replied Nym. "The light comes from the stones."

"So why does it look like it?"

"Because light looks like what it illuminates."

Tazri didn't seem satisfied, but continued.

They found an old stone terminal engraved with names. Most had been erased by moisture. Only one was still readable, accompanied by a date and a warning: Erdren, scout; falling from the ceiling at the third elbow; not following the old marks.

Nym checked the terminal, then the walls around. The old marks continued north, but the ceiling had moved. Ysil showed them a more recent trace, engraved at knee height, and chose a detour.

"Why is the new brand so low? Zaelyra asked.

"Because the previous one was too easy to cover. The miners placed it where the debris accumulates less."

Zaelyra added the date of correction, Ysil's name and Erdren's inscription to the statement. She asked the guide if she wanted the name of the dead man to remain on the map.

"It's already engraved on the terminal."

"The map will make him travel further."

"Then write it down with the warning. Not like a hero."

They followed the low mark to a natural staircase. The air was getting cooler. A smell of rotten leaves mixed with that of hot stone. At the top, a breach illuminated the ceiling with a yellow light, filtered by a thick layer of lichen.

"Maybe it's day now?" asked Tazri.

Nym observed the crack. "It's a light from above. That doesn't prove we can go out."

"But it comes from the surface?"

"Probably."

Zaelyra note: probable natural light; no practicable opening observed.

Behind the breach, they found an old watchtower, built with basalt blocks and blackened wood. The walls bore marks of carts and numbers drawn with chalk. The post had been used to measure the loads of the caravans, then to monitor the galleries after a series of landslides.

"Who built it?" asked the merchant.

"Miners from several communities," Ysil replied. "They shared the position because none of them could maintain the pipes alone."

"And why did they abandon him?"

"The sharing has stopped. Everyone wanted to keep the measures to himself. When a gallery collapsed, no one knew who had the most recent statement."

Zaelyra looked at the numbers left on the wall. The columns had been repainted several times. In some places, a new measure covered the old one; elsewhere, the two remained visible, even when they contradicted each other.

"They didn't agree on the weight of the burdens?"

"On the weight, yes. On responsibility, no."

A scratch resounded behind the post. The guards got into position. Ysil signaled not to move forward. The noise was repeated, followed by a rattling of metal.

A silhouette appeared in the upper opening. He was neither a soldier nor a traveler: a small wooden and copper machine, mounted on six legs, pulled a chain behind him. He stopped when he saw the lamps, then pivoted towards a hole in the wall.

Nym approached slowly. "An automaton?"

"A measuring device," says Ysil. "The post had one."

The machine climbed on a stone, the chain scraping the ground. He stopped under a mark, then dropped a small metal token.

Zaelyra picked up the token after Nym had examined it. One side bore the number four; the other, a stylized spider symbol. Not the seal of a House, but an old brand often associated with drow roads.

Ithryl was not with them to interpret the engraving. Nym could only describe the form.

"Does it look like the symbol that was attributed to Drizzt?" asked the guard.

"No," said Zaelyra. "The one attributed to Drizzt is a broken circle. This one represents a spider."

"Could it be a sign of the House?"

"Yes. Or an old road mark."

Ysil took the token, examined it and returned it. "This position was used by several drow groups before I was born. It doesn't belong to anyone today."

Drizzt's name had gone through the years with so many versions that it was sometimes pasted on any starting sign or refusal. Zaelyra noted the brand without giving it a legend. A resemblance was not an origin.

The automaton went back into the wall. The chain disappeared with him. Ysil advised them not to follow him: he could be connected to an unstable mechanism.

Instead, they inspected the other traces. The post had served as shelter for families at least twice. A recent inscription said: Here, we waited. No name followed.

Tazri put his hand near the words. "Why not write who?"

"Maybe they didn't want us to know where they had gone," Zaelyra replied.

"Maybe they didn't know if they would come back," says Rhylor.

The girl withdrew her hand. They did not complete the registration.

At night, the natural light weakens without disappearing completely. The group slept in turns, under the guard of Ysil. In the morning, she accepted that they continue to the first refuge, but not beyond. She had to return to the bronze post before the road was closed for inspection.

"You're not coming with us? Zaelyra asked.

"I have fulfilled my agreement."

"What if we need you?"

"You can ask for another guide."

"You don't want to know where the road leads?"

Ysil folded his coat. "I've known it for a long time. It's not because I stopped walking there that I stopped caring about it."

She gave them a small plate of basalt, which they should return to the shelter. The mark engraved on the back was that of the post, not of the House. Zaelyra put it away separately from the maps.

Ysil went south again. The group remained for a moment without speaking. Then the injured person asked how long it would take them to reach the stop.

"I don't know," Zaelyra replied. "But we'll walk slowly enough for you to tell us before we fall."

He accepted.