Free Revelation by Michael Duncan

passage and listened for any sound of their lost companion. The signs of Garam’s journey down the corridor were obvious. His boot prints clearly marked his passage and was easily seen in the old dust that blanketed the floor.
    “It’s my guess that Garam came this way not more than an hour ago. These footprints in this dust are barely touched by the draft that seems to constantly blow through here.” Lorik hesitated for a moment. “I just don’t see any sign that Garam was abducted. There are no other prints in this passage.”
    The tunnel turned and twisted through the granite, passing like a serpent through the hard stone so that they could no longer see the glow of their dying campfire behind them. Around a corner the three men spied what appeared to be a distant flicker of light. Cautiously they approached, peering into the darkness before them, their own steps echoing along the cold stone passage. Their anxiety only grew when they discovered that the light ahead of them was merely the reflection of their glowing stone on Garam’s axe. The weapon rested forgotten against the rock wall with small stone fragments scattered about the blade. Above the axe, etched like a scar in the granite wall was a fresh crack where Garam’s axe had hit.
    “Well,” Lorik said, “whatever happened didn’t happen without a fight.”
    “At least we know we are on the right track,” Braden added.
    Aaron, however, was more concerned than ever for the missing dwarf. He couldn’t imagine Garam forgetting his weapon and could only guess that the dwarf was overpowered by the unseen assailant or overcome with fear. “Let’s not linger,” Aaron said. “We don’t know what Garam is facing and we must not waste time.” He turned toward Braden. “Take his axe; we may yet have the opportunity to return it to its rightful owner.” He stepped out quickly with Lorik and Braden fast on his heels.
    Around another corner, as the passage continued to twist and turn, they stumbled upon Garam’s helmet and the illumine stone. Braden bent down to pick up the artifacts, “He must be gone,” Braden whispered. “A dwarf would never leave his gear behind.” Braden handed the headpiece to Lorik.
    They continued their journey down the corridor, winding through the stony earth. Hours passed when, around another bend, a faint glow began to illuminate the distant tunnel. The shimmering, golden light grew brighter with each step, flooding their eyes with an intensity that they hadn’t seen since they first stepped into the dank underground passage. They approached with extreme caution, unsure what to expect. Lorik and Aaron had their swords drawn; Braden held Garam’s weapon at the ready as they approached the light.
    The passage opened into a large, luxurious hall with light seeming to cascade all around. High above, over one-hundred feet, the arched ceiling was decorated with vast scenes of an ancient realm. Mosaics of great castles looked down from above with colorful banners flying high over golden towers. Tall, broad pillars reached up from the floor like massive stone fingers, carved with ancient pictures and wound with golden wreaths spiraling up to the top. On the walls, ornate woven tapestries hung with illustrations of mighty heroes, untouched by time. Around the room, marble statues of mighty men, covered in scintillating armor, kept silent vigil as they held high their mighty swords. Other wall hangings and stonework decorated the massive room with scenes of mighty dwarves wielding great axes standing alongside warrior-men and elves holding longbows. The three companions were amazed at the sight of such a room. It seemed as if time had never touched the exquisite chamber.
    Yet, for all the décor and artwork that filled the ancient hall, what drew Aaron’s attention was what he saw in the middle of the room. A large carved basin filled with crystal clear water dominated the center of the chamber. As the three men approached they