It was the strangest thing she had ever seen before. Her people, the stonemasons of Stonehollow, were expert builders, carving rock and building fortresses. These people, it seemed, were expert diggers. Spaces and chambers had been carved into the rocks. It was not primitive, but sophisticated. What surprised Phae was the size, probably no larger than a single castle with four or five crumbling walls erected and connected to the canyon side that loomed like mountains in front of it.
“What is this place?” Aransetis asked, staring down at the town embedded inside the base of the canyon. Chambers had been carved out of the rock faces. His black clothes were spattered with dust and dirt.
“It’s abandoned,” Khiara observed. “No cook fires. I see no one down there. Not a single soul.”
“I think you’re right,” Tyrus said. “That is most likely. The Boeotians do not dwell in a particular place for very long. I was unaware of any towns built at all. This place appears to be ruins. As Khiara said, I see no signs of life.”
“Why are we here?” Kiranrao muttered darkly. “I thought our journey took us into the Scourgelands?”
“It will,” he answered patiently. “Annon, when you asked the spirits to show you a settlement . . . have they led us here?”
The Druidecht nodded. “This is where the spirits were leading us to. Maybe they did not understand.”
“Or maybe something lives inside those caves,” Aransetis added. “It is daylight after all and quite hot. They could watch us approach without being seen.”
“We’ll trust the spirits,” Tyrus said. “It will be dusk by the time we descend to the bottom of the canyon.”
“A good place for a trap,” Baylen said. “If this is the only road in or out . . .”
Tyrus looked at him with a half smile. “We can’t be trapped. But I appreciate you adding your voice of warning. Let us see what awaits us below.”
A little city carved from living rock.
What a strange accomplishment, but it was eerily beautiful. Phae was the most grateful for the shade. The canyon floor provided shelter from the sweltering sun. They had wandered the forsaken streets and found no sign of inhabitants. There was nothing left behind, just the skull and bones of the abandoned city. A layer of dust covered everything and Hettie quickly deduced that there were no footprints and scant animal tracks. It truly seemed deserted.
Phae sat down along the edge of a low stone wall and tugged on her boot. A few sparse trees grew in the base of the canyon where an underground stream likely fed the roots. The stream had encroached along the edge of the forgotten city, but there were no trees deeper inside. Some of the walls had supporting buttresses, and each building was honeycombed with chambers and square windows. She pulled off her boot and poured out a fistful of sand from the inside. A scrawny lizard watched her from the base of the wall, its odd eyes examining her to see if she were a threat.
Baylen and Tyrus stood near a broken pillar, deep in conversation. The Cruithne towered over her father, but he seemed to be describing something to him based on the way his hands motioned toward the pillars and buttresses. Prince Aran sat in a meditation stance and Phae watched as Khiara came up to him and timidly offered a drink. He looked up, shook his head curtly, and then went back inside his thoughts. Khiara’s shoulders drooped, just a little, as she departed. It made Phae sad.
Shion wandered up and crouched down next to Phae.
“Are we safe here, Shion?” she asked, peeling off her other boot as well.
He nodded curtly. “There are no signs of life. This place was abandoned long ago.”
“An odd place to build a city.”
“No, not really,” he answered. He pointed to where the trees were, a little lower. “I imagine there was a time that gully was a swollen river. It probably floods here during the rainy season. It would be difficult for an army to march here. It’s very defensible. The rocks we crossed were like a maze.”
“Without Annon, we would never have found it.” The pain in her heel made her wince. Gingerly, she rolled down her thick sock and then carefully peeled it away from her heel. The blister had doubled in size since she’d last checked but it had not ruptured yet. The skin was squishy and pale. She groaned.
“I have some salve from Khiara,” Shion said, fishing through his pockets. “I noticed you limping and thought this would help. But we should puncture the blisters first. Do you still have that needle in your pack?”
She recalled it instantly, remembering the last time she had used it to stitch his shirt. Her pack was next to her against the wall and she rummaged through it until she found the needle. “Here it is.”