Page 6 of Memory of Ashes

The silence lingered.

The walls of the crevice emerged as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Pain throbbed behind her eyes. When she pressed her fingers to her head, something wet coated them. In the darkness, she couldn’t tell whether it was blood.

Emin had warned her not to go back to Mount Ryjul, but she hadn’t listened. He would be disappointed. The pull of the mystery had been too great, and another expedition would take weeks to approve. There had to be more evidence linking the symbols; she was sure of it. It couldn’t have been a coincidence.

The snowy mountain range had called her back. She had slipped away that afternoon, hoping to be back before anyone noticed. By now, Emin would be wondering where she was.

Her body cried out in protest as she sat up slowly, stiff from the cold. She drew a sharp breath when pain tingled through her leg as she tried to move it. It had become numb under the weight of the fallen rocks.

How far had she fallen?

She was alone. Expeditions had contingency plans and safety ropes. Teams. No rescue was coming. She shivered, but not with cold.

As she entered the cave, the mountain had trembled violently, loosening a section of stone and revealing the pale remains of a decomposing body.

Someone had been there before her.

She recalled the gleam of the silver item clutched in the corpse’s hand before she raised her arms to protect her head from the falling rocks. The mountain had roared, opening up and swallowing her whole.

“I shouldn’t have come back.”

Pain flared when she tried to move.

“Is anyone there?” No one answered; she was miles away from civilisation, but she had to try. Her lungs ached from yelling, and her throat was raw from the dust suspended in the air.

A deep rumble echoed through the crevice. She paused, listening. Everything shook again.

She strained against the rocks, but her leg was well and truly stuck.

“Shit!” she screamed.

She was about to be buried, like a broken artefact, crushed beneath the pressure of the earth.

Her panic could wait until she knew what she had. She grabbed her satchel and opened it, trying to find something that would help. The smooth metal of her dig tools was cold against her fingers. She felt for the small pickaxe.

She wedged it beneath the rock and used it as a lever, prying her leg free with a moan of relief. The bent tool remained trapped beneath the stone.

The rumble came again. The deafening roar surrounded her as the mountain shuddered. She clasped her satchel and scrambled backwards over the rocks and debris until her back hit a wall. Her arms throbbed from holding the satchel above her as a shield while rocks and dust fell all around her.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped.

She slowly lowered her arms and exhaled, coughing as the dust settled around her.

She was still alive.

Something was different. Through the settling dust, silhouettes emerged in the faint blue glow. She’d scrambled over more than just rocks.

Bones.

Hundreds of bones and skulls surrounded her. They were cold beneath her palms and clattered beneath her feet as she scrambled away, hoping they were animal bones, but the shape of the skulls made her think otherwise.

There shouldn’t be bones down here. She swallowed hard. This was no natural cave. It was a burial ground, with no order to the remains. They covered the ground like shattered stone.

There was too much death. Not just here. It had cruelly taken her father and her mother. His face, frowning in disapproval, flashed into her mind. “One day your curiosity will get you killed.” The words echoed bitterly in her mind.

She couldn’t even recall her mother’s face.

There was no escape.