The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

For before me, the floor is covered with snakes.

And I mean covered. As in I can’t see a speck of the dirt upon which they are all entwined. They’re all different colors. Some seem calm, just lying there, while others are actually attacking each other.

I take a deep breath.

I’m not ordinarily scared of snakes, at least not in a one-on-one situation. Now, show me one tiny spider and I’ll go running, but a single snake I can handle.

I don’t know how to handle thousands, though, and there has to be at least that many if they are covering the entire floor between me and the next opening to walk through.

I have to see if there’s room around the perimeter, so I carefully walk to my right, keeping the cave wall at my back and the torch to my front which keeps the snakes at bay. I walk all the way to the edge of the room before I come up against the next wall, but the clear perimeter stops. The snakes cover every bit of the floor.

“Shit,” I mutter, bringing the torch up briefly to examine the wall. If it’s craggy enough, maybe I can climb across, but it’s fairly smooth and also covered in slick slime. That’s not an option.

I remember the old Indiana Jones movie I watched with my dad where Indy got thrown into a pit of snakes. Fire seemed to hold them at bay a little bit, but no way was I going to take them all on with one little torch that could snuff out at any minute.

I could potentially bend distance across to the next opening, but it’s incredibly dark and I don’t know if I’d be stepping out onto a pile of snakes.

And then the proverbial light bulb goes off in my head, and I realize I have the solution readily available as I’ve had to cross dangerous territories before.

The Crimson River—I built a bridge and tunnel that kept us safe from attacking, tormented souls.

While I don’t need the same level of architectural engineering to cross the room, I do take a moment to think about what dangers might happen.

Can snakes jump up?

Can they fly?

I decide to take no chances as I gaze up at the ceiling above me. It’s pitch black and I have no clue how far up it extends, so I don’t know how high I can make my bridge.

I’m going to have to take it a step at a time.

Holding my torch in one hand, much like Elsa built her staircase of ice, I conjure in my mind one built of solid wood with a thick railing for stability. It rises a few steps at a time and I walk up them as they appear, at first testing that they are solid and will hold me, and then moving with a little more assurance.

When I’m a good ten feet above the floor, I hang over the railing and dangle my torch down. No snakes appear to be jumping or ready to take flight.

I glance at the opposite edge of the room, and I decide to trust my magic and make haste.

I conjure a wooden walkway with railings to keep me from falling and thick pylons for support. The slats in the wood appear quickly, and I’m actually able to run across it. As I near the opposite edge, I magically build a staircase sloping downward and ending right at the opening where the lone torch exists.

That was actually pretty easy.

I can see that there are no snakes blocking my way as I walk through the opening. It’s another short passage leading to what looks like another room that has an ambient glow coming from it. Something is moving in there, but I can’t tell what—only that there are leaping shadows and a slight whooshing sound that echoes through the chamber I’m in.

Using my torch to assure the floor is clear, I make my way quickly through the short passage and come to the opening of the next room, my next obstacle readily apparent as there are plenty of torches providing enough light to see what I’m facing.

Between me and the next opening across the wall is a dark pit of nothingness. I move to the edge, leaning over, but I can’t see anything. Looking around, I find a chunk of packed dirt and pick it up, tossing it over the edge. I listen for it to hit against anything, but it’s silent, so it’s clearly a long drop to wherever that pit leads.

Maybe more snakes.

Certain death if I fell.

There is a way across to the other side of the room, though.

A single log, felled from some type of thick tree. It’s about three feet in diameter, and it looks pretty solid. It’s wide enough that I could easily make the walk without worrying about balance issues.