of one pathway, he was once again facing multiple choices.
Retrace your steps, he told himself.
Leaning over, he examined the stone floor for signs of footprints he must have made. In the dim light no signs were evident that anybody had come this way.
Which corridor had he come through?
Desperation assailed him. Impulsively he took the left corridor, which wound in sharp turns, sloping down. He ran faster, scraping against the barren walls. Unexpected fear tore at him.
Frantically he attempted to reclaim his sanity.
Stay calm.
Mahzit’s heart pounded on the verge of uncontrolled panic. His breath pulsed loudly as he raced onward. Suddenly the path ended, ramming him into hard rock. Sweat poured from his brow as he slumped, dazed onto the cold stone floor, fighting unreasonable terror.
It felt as if some alien creature were clawing into his brain. Using his limited Zygo, he began to wrap a protective shell about his skull.
Examining the tunnel, he retraced his steps, slowly following his own footprints in the thin dust layer. Back and forth he wandered, remembering how it had appeared. He could find no clues. At each bend, he was more lost than before.
He focused inward, pulling into his senses, reaching out.
Sarleni, are you there? Adt? Can you hear me? Can you tell me where I am?
Summoning his courage, he waited, breathing hard, deliberately forcing himself to a slower rhythm.
He waited, aware of nothing.
No answer came. He grew anxious, even angry for having allowed fear to cause confusion.
The torch flickered, timidly offering light.
Again, he probed deep into the heart of the mountain, hoping to discover which path would return him to the canyon and the unit.
He had been bred in ice caverns. This tunnel chase was not new to him. As a youth in Helandi, he’d been lost many times, and learned how to find clues that eventually led to safety through the icy passages. Not the same here, for he sensed no crystals, no ice to reflect friendly signals back to the community.
Here, among the dense rocky foundations, he found no hint to give him direction.
He grew more annoyed than frightened with each step. The corridor broadened and he started moving faster with renewed confidence.
The corridor opened into a mural-lined chamber and he expected it to be the cave’s entrance.
Soon I’ll be back with the Raiders, he thought.
When he took a clearer look, all hope withered and was replaced with a mix of horror and fascination. The bizarre paintings displayed harsh proof he was still caught within the nightmarish labyrinth.
His torch illuminated images of oversized Muti faces, each nested in podded foliage. Their eye-sockets glimmered like sparkling azure pools.
A sharp chill climbed up his spine.
The faltering flame pulsed dimly, casting dark shadows against cut carvings along the chamber’s walls.
Mahzit examined the finely detailed murals.
Some showed hooded men; apparently warriors with no detailed features. Others were animal shapes, most of which he could not identify. More striking were the written symbols running in panels alongside these figures.
Without warning, a heavy gust of icy air struck him and he was shoved violently forward. Something clanked loudly and rough claws yanked him up.
He fought back, only to be overwhelmed by the violent strength of the creature. Suddenly he was struck hard from above. Consciousness instantly collapsed.
When awareness sharpened, horrific shrieks pierced his ears; chomping, like axes smashed together, clashed over and over again, closely followed by a deadly roar. Sharp pain seared through his limbs. His head pounded loudly in his ears.
Slowly his eyes opened. He was lying on the ground matted with dried moss, the sun baking down hot and bright. He was in a camp of sorts surrounded by a forest. Ashes from a nearby fire were idly smoldering.
To the left he saw the half-eaten body, torn and shredded, almost touching him. Blood splattered around its twisted form. In utter shock and horror, he slowly began to recognize its shape and size. The hood was the giveaway, and the cloak.
He was looking at the broken body of a dead Muti.
Something had consumed the majority of its mangled purple flesh. There was little left of the creature beyond jagged whitish bones.
Nobody in Helandi had ever reported the death of a Muti until their encounter at the Castle of Doom, a highly irregular incident. The subject was rarely discussed; he doubted anyone had even actually seen the skeletal composite of a Muti.
Was this the creature that had captured me in the darkness of the caves?
The body and head were practically fused by a series of linear bones and sinews, not at all resembling the human. Shreds of flesh hung beneath the skeletal chin. The shoulder and chest frame molded together in one smooth white intricate pattern. Pivotal casings held sockets for the legs. He couldn’t quite imagine a naked Muti; whole or in pieces. The beast had de-fleshed it, leaving only shreds of purple skin mingled with partly devoured innards.
What a sad distorted creature this Muti must have been: certainly not a normal example of its kind. Perhaps deformed or mutated. Feet resembled hooves. And the wide platelets encasing the midsection were bowed and squat. Surely this was a poor cripple. The face was fairly intact though contorted. Jaw was craned wide open, exposing four rows of stumpy teeth. The eyes sockets were pecked down to raw bony cavities clear through the back of the elongated skull.
Had this Muti brought me here?
Mahzit quickly took inventory of his own body. His head ached, and while his body was not broken, it was seriously bruised. Basic tools and weapons were still attached to his harness.
He shifted attention to the matting which was ovular and firmly packed; bordered by thick brush and tall reeds.
Is this a sort of nest for some enormous creature in the middle of a forest? Why did the Muti take me from the caves?
Mutis seldom touched humans and certainly were not prone to attacking or carrying them away.
Why did it bring me here? What did it want?
Panic threatened. He was alone; literally lost. Reuniting with the Raiders was not possible.
He slogged feverishly through an undulating fog, struggling to regain composure.
Mahzit dragged the Muti’s body towards the reeds. Hacking a thick bundle of the grasses, he wrapped the body tightly; then buried it in a shallow grave beneath the bushes.
He had to keep moving or his mission might be lost.
The best plan was to continue in the direction of the rising sun, which should take him deeper into Kamina. They had come to explore and that’s what he’d do.
Pressing his way through the overgrown reeds, he projected a plea outwards with considerable difficulty.
No good, Mahzit thought.
Shutting his eyes tight, he counted backwards and once again drove his mental sensors into the foreign wilds.
Slowly he became sensitized to images.
He was back in touch with his natural abilities. Rebuilding self confidence, he quickened his pace. Time filtered through his awareness as he broadened its mental reach. Nightmarish images flashed in spurts between the scents and sounds of the tumultuous jungle. He sifted his thoughts with keen precision, intent on honing in on any sign of civilization. As far as his awareness could stretch, he found no indication of human life, no sign even of ancient ruins.
Where