Free Stormcaller (Book 1) by Everet Martins Page A

to follow the most direct path towards the trap they had fallen through, leaving them behind. Maybe it will find the Cerumal and feed on that .
    It seemed to be working as the spiked blob passed them. They watched from ten paces into the fork’s other branch. Juzo slipped on his bad leg, sliding on a patch of loose gravel. The creature paused, turning in their direction. Its enormous mouth opened broadly and a green, tendril-like tongue flickered in the air. Two large passages opened atop its tongue where it was widest. The verdant tongue appeared to be leading its mouth towards them, lapping at the air.
    “Not going to work,” Juzo mouthed in silence.
    He met Walter’s eyes, tapping his nose to indicate what the beast was doing. Walter nodded in understanding. Walter and Juzo stealthily slid further into the tunnel.
    The beast squatted low to the ground, its tongue inspecting the ground where they had been. The tongue retreated into its maw. It charged directly towards them, soft hisses darting through the air.
    Walters’s eyes widened. “Go!” He pushed Juzo ahead of him into a run. He glanced behind him as the creature gained ground. Juzo groaned in pain and forced himself to push through the agony. His wound opened, fresh blood oozing through his pants. They were approaching a dead end, the tunnel narrowing into a rounded point like a worm’s head.
    “Shit! Shit!” Juzo cried. He started to slow before the end while Walter looked back. Walter ran faster, as it was nearly upon him. He saw its razors-for-teeth clacking in the air. Walter crashed into Juzo, slamming him into what should have been hard earth at the dead end. They impossibly fell through the dead end, landing with a thud on something hard.
    They gathered themselves and stood in awe, Juzo taking in the crypt and Walter the dead end they had just passed through. The shape of the earthen dead end could be observed from this side. Its concave end penetrated the crypt, and then abruptly ceased without a speck of brown earth on the ground of the stony crypt.
    “It’s an illusion, or magic of some sort, like from the stories,” said Walter, eyebrows raised and mouth open. He watched the creature paw at the dead-end wall, its spiny nubs seemingly unable to penetrate it. Its tongue inspected it a moment and then, dissatisfied, it rolled back down the tunnel. Walter heaved a sigh of relief. “I don’t think it can get in, but how did we? Are you alright?”
    “I’m OK, are you? That spiny blob thing was almost on top of you,” Juzo said, brushing a fluffy coat of dust off his shirt. “Man, when people learn you can use the power of the Dragon, you’ll be in the Breden stories,” he said, smiling broadly.
    “Phoenix, I hope not,” Walter said, turning about the strange subterranean room.
    “I’m starting to think the stories are truer than anything else we’ve learned in school,” said Juzo, gaze transfixing an ornate sword in the corner.
    “Yeah, I don’t remember learning or seeing anything like this in history or architecture,” said Walter.
    The crypt was about the size of Walter’s modest bedroom. The walls were unnaturally lined with smooth, obviously carved, alabaster stone. A faint white glow emanated from the almost translucent stone, allowing them to see well enough. The air was dry and comfortably warm, the antithesis of the earthen tunnels. An almost imperceptible hum reverberated throughout the chamber. A thick carpet of dust covered the stone floor and obscure footprints led from a sarcophagus of shimmering black stone.
    Walter marched to the stone coffin. “Whatever was here isn’t here anymore,” he said, eyeing the footprints. The sarcophagus had heavy walls, thick as a forearm, strewn with bizarre, illegible inscriptions inside and out. The lid lay shattered in three pieces against an adjacent wall. On the underside of the lid there was an immaculately chiseled image of the sun behind a dueling Phoenix and Dragon in