Sylva’s hand wandered to her back, as if her falx was still strapped to her shoulder. Mother noticed the movement, but did nothing more than cluck her tongue disapprovingly.
‘With your own eyes?’ Fletcher asked. His suspicions were confirmed when a green-brown Mite buzzed out of her hair, settling on the blackthorn staff and watching them through beady eyes. The demon was smaller than most Mites, almost the size of a normal beetle. It was then that Fletcher saw the milky whiteness of Mother’s eyes, clouded by cataracts. The orc was blind.
‘My Mites, Apophis and Ra, act as my eyes and ears. There is no limit to what I can see. I have more eyes now than I was born with.’
‘A shaman then,’ Sylva said, finding her voice again.
‘I am a summoner, as you are,’ the orc said simply.
Her demon buzzed into the air, hovering in front of their faces as she took them in. Clearly she had the same ability as Lovett, capable of scrying with her mind instead of a stone.
‘Don’t mind Apophis. He has been following you since I heard of your arrival. Just another insect in the trees. You should be more vigilant.’ She chuckled to herself, her laughter throaty and guttural.
‘Told you,’ Sylva muttered, nudging Fletcher with her elbow.
Fletcher ignored her. The dark walls were bringing back memories of his captivity and his heart was racing. Enough was enough.
‘Where are we?’ Fletcher growled. ‘Why are you toying with us like this?’
The orc bared her teeth, and it took Fletcher a moment to realise she was smiling.
‘Come with me,’ she wheezed, backing into the shadows once more.
Mother tossed wyrdlights over her head as she shuffled, sending them dodging through the maze of rock formations to cast myriad shifting shadows on the ground below.
Reluctantly, the others followed, while a vanguard of mara-riding gremlins kept a watchful eye. Only Blue remained close, his head bobbing just above Fletcher’s waist as his mount hopped along beside them.
The newly lit space was deep and cavernous, the ceiling falling away into an open space. Their footsteps echoed, merging with the gloopy movement of the lava and dripping water from the stalactites above. Signs of inhabitation were scattered around. Mats made from woven reeds coated the floor. Pots filled with powders, mixing bowls, mortars and pestles were piled haphazardly in the corner and a cauldron simmered on the embers of a low fire, the contents a strange turquoise colour. Clearly she was an apothecary of some kind, healing the gremlins of their injuries and ills.
‘Hurry, there’s not much time,’ Mother quavered from the gloom ahead of them. ‘You took longer to wake than expected.’
‘What’s the rush?’ Jeffrey grumbled, tripping over a discarded animal bone.
Mother came to a halt and the wyrdlights darted ahead to hover above her, revealing the end of the cave. It was a sight to behold.
Raw crystals emerged from the rock like multicoloured icicles. Some were oblong in shape, jutting out like the prow of a ship. Others seemed to blossom like flowers, sharp petals that glittered ruby red under the light. Mother stepped through them without hesitation, manoeuvring by memory alone.
But even the kaleidoscope of colours and shapes could not drag Fletcher’s eyes from the gem embedded in the wall at the very end of the cavern. It was oval in shape, and it had been polished down to a gentle curve – not unlike the Oculus at Vocans, but three times as large. The clear, crisp image of a leaf sat in the centre, trembling on a breeze. It was an enormous scrying stone.
‘This is where I teach the gremlin pups about the jungle, for only the foragers, fishers and hunters are allowed to leave the Warren,’ Mother said, gesturing blindly at the stone. ‘And now I shall teach you too. Please, sit.’
There was a smooth patch of rock, worn away by generations of gremlin backsides. It made Fletcher wonder just how old this orc was.
They settled down, though Ignatius and Tosk stood guard at their backs, keeping an eye on the warrior gremlins. Ignatius was especially energetic, prowling back and forth and hissing under his breath.
The image began to vibrate as the Mite in the crystal, Ra, took flight. The leaf fell away, revealing the world around it with startling clarity. In this part of the jungle, the vegetation looked thicker somehow, with the trees older and more twisted and the ground shrouded in deeper shadow.
‘Long ago, I was an orc like any other. I came from a small tribe, far to the south. We did not even know humans existed.’