Chapter Twenty-One - Knock... Knock

"Knock."

The doorway shuddered, dust and ash came down in a light shower, spreading out across the ground.

"That did it," I said.

We'd been waiting for Cinder to figure out the door for a while now, but it seemed that whatever mechanism that dwarves had devised to keep this entrance shut was still very much active. It was possible that it was as simple as a deadbolt, but something told me that the dwarves would lean onto something more mechanically complex.

"Thank you," Cinder said. She grabbed onto the edge of the door and tugged it open. It didn't fold out as a normal door ought to, but instead slid on a set of rails that made the door slide to the side and into the hole it had opened so that it didn't stick out of the mountainside at all.

Within was a tunnel, deep and dark and impenetrable.

"Rem doesn't think she wants to go in there," Rem said. "The air stinks of stale."

"I can't smell a thing," I commended.

Rem turned my way, and I was pretty sure that if she had the features, she would be glaring at me.

Alex stepped forwards and gave the air a sniff. "It is rather stale. Perhaps we should let it air out a little? Though, I can't really tell how deep the tunnel goes. It angles upwards and the light doesn't go far." Alex squatted down for a moment, tail lifting the back of his skirt so that it wouldn't rub against the ground. "No, I really can't see too far in."

"Our few encounters with the dwarves here were always in places of their choosing, outside of the confines of their warrens."

"Tunnels," I corrected. "Goblins and kobolds live in warrens. When the passageway was carefully crafted, it's a tunnel." I raised a hand and spun it around as I silently cast Faerie Light.

This wasn't to be confused with Faerie Fire, which was an entirely different spell with an entirely different, though similar, effect. Faerie Fire is a spell that manipulates magic in such a way as to affect a person's base luck. It causes a person to not only glow softly from within, but also helps any and all who would attack that person in landing their blows.

Interestingly enough, the effect is not merely physical, as mental, psychic, and magical attacks are also suddenly more advantageous.

Faerie Light, on the other hand, strips away much of the magical effect, leaving only the soft inner glow.

Both spells are natural magic, unsurprisingly originating from the fae. The fire was one of their go-to tricks to bring a bigger opponent down to size, or merely to spread a little misfortune in battle. The light was... well, I suspect that fairies are just naturally attracted to bright lights the way teenaged humans are attracted to fashions which disappoint their parents.

"Mem is magic," Mem gasped. She inspected her scythes, which were both glowing in different colours, one blue, the other green. She started making 'vroom' noises as she swung them around.

"This should, obviously, allow us to see within the tunnels without employing darkvision," I explained.

"Darkvision?" Cinder asked.

"Ah, you may be unfamiliar with that. Many magical beasts and beings have an innate ability to see in the dark or in low-light conditions. This can sometimes be a magical ability, but is often just a condition of their physiology."

"I see, I see, I see," Cinder asked, then she paused. "Or perhaps I don't, as the case may be."

I chuckled. "Yes, indeed. In any case, Darkvision can usually only be negated by magical darkness. But that doesn't matter to us now, this light should be enough to see ahead."

Cinder nodded, then stepped into the tunnel. "Do you mind if I take the lead?"

"I don't," I replied. "Though if and when we encounter any dwarves, I'd like to speak with them myself. It's been a while."

With that said, we started to delve into the tunnel. Cinder scraped a foot across the ground, then grunted. "Mossy," she said.

I felt at the ground myself. It was on the slippery side, though my shoes were more suited to a nice walk from the office to the study rather than a trek through an ancient dwarven tunnel system.

"The ground's inclination is likely to allow water to flow out of the tunnel from within," I noted.

"Would water be that much of an issue?" Cinder asked.

"Water is always an issue," Alex said. "Optimum humidity is one of the hardest things to achieve in a household. So many variables can change it. From the opening of entrances, to the weather outside, to less obvious things, like the presence of houseplants. If you don't pay attention to it, humidity can turn a comfortable room into a mouldy mess. Or it might go the other way, and become too dry and lose its coziness."

"I don't think I've ever put that much thought into that sort of thing," Cinder admitted.

"That's because you're a young mistress, not a housekeeper," Alex said primly. "Your job is to grow strong, form powerful bonds, learn magic and new skills, and become a beacon of strength and power. A housekeeper's job is no less important, but also very different."

"The stupid maid talks like keeping a room dry is more important than being strong," Rem muttered.

"Isn't it? What's more important than a safe, comfortable house? Yes, being strong is nice, but the strongest person in the world won't be any happier than the weakest if the only thing that strength gives them is a mud hut to live in. Strength isn't happiness. Happiness is a warm, filling meal, good honest work, and a comfortable space to live and thrive in. Maids and butlers make that a reality."

I hummed as I considered Alex's words. It was actually a fairly nuanced way of looking at things. It was disregarding the pursuit of greater knowledge, but I could see why that might not be an important factor for a maid.

The tunnel continued upwards for a time, eventually growing just a little shorter as the ceiling squeezed in. I had to duck my head, else I'd be rattling my skull against the ceiling with every step. Cinder, who was somewhat taller, had to hunch ahead of me, and the two mantises taking up the rear... actually, they had no issues. Their bodies were mostly built along the horizontal, so walking on all sixes wasn't a chore.

It was no wonder that the mantises were a threat to the dwarves.

In times of war or when under threat from non-dwarven foes, they were usually keen to make good use of their size. Small doorways, tiny gates, locations where a clever dwarf could chop at an intruder's ankles through a slip without risking themselves... there were many crafty ways to turn one's short stature into an advantage.

The tunnel eventually met another. This one was wider, with arches carved out of the stone and walls smoothed by magic. Still short, but with an arched centre that let me stand at my full height, at least. I'd still have to watch to avoid bashing my head on a beam.

"Looks like this goes on towards the... that's north-east, and that south-west," I commented. "Which way, Cinder?"

"South would bring us closer to the Goddess' home," she said. "North, and down, I believe, towards the dwarven city. Though I have no way of knowing for certain."

I gave the passage a cursory inspection. There was a bit of water clinging to the stone walls, and some pooling on the floor. Lots of dust, but not much ash. We had tracked some in with us, but otherwise...

Kneeling down a little, I tapped the ground with the tip of a bony finger. "Detect Magic."

There was a faint lingering magical presence, but it was old, and washed away. Clearly, whatever had left a mark here had done so a long time ago. Judging from the weave left behind, it had been a cleaning magic of sorts, something to sweep away traces. Some earth-shaping magic lingered in the walls as well, but it was extremely faint. Not the original magic cast to make the walls, but magic cast later, to keep them maintained and solid. "Anything?" Cinder asked.

"Maintenance magic, last cast a decade ago, at least. And some sort of dust or dirt clearing magic as well. More recent, but not too recent."

"Interesting, but not that helpful," she said.

"True. Let me try something else." A second tier spell. I reached into a pocket and pulled out a tuft of fur a moment later. This wasn't a spell I cast frequently, and while I could do it without the component, it wasn't an expensive or uncommon one. Just fur from a bloodhound. "Detect Animal: Dwarf."

I felt the magic reach out, slipping through the tunnels in an expanding wave until I could feel every dwarven presence within ten necrokilometres. All two of them.

"I think I know which way to go," I said.

***