Zella had brought small torches, which they lit at the altar fire. One of their escort went through the low door first, then stepped out and made way for Klia. Seregil followed her and Thero, with Alec and Micum. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the brightness of the day to the torchlight, but once they did he let out a startled gasp. The rough stone walls of the small cave were covered in drawings done in everything from charcoal to silver paint. Owls, eyes, clouds, moons seemed to cover every surface, overlapping like a haphazard quilt. The floor was uneven, but worn smooth by centuries of supplicants’ feet. A low, crescent-shaped wooden stool stood at the back of the chamber, next to an empty tripod brazier. Both looked new. Beside the stool was another tunnel, just tall enough for a man to stand up in.

“This is an antechamber, isn’t it?” he asked. “The real chamber is through there. Is it still passable?”

“There are two inner chambers as it turns out, only recently discovered. This tunnel here was blocked with rubble by the Plenimarans, probably when they smashed the altar. The innermost was hidden behind a stone tablet and leads down to an amazing cave. Toneus opened them both. Be careful in the third one; part of the wall fell in when the tunnel was opened.”

“We must see them,” said Klia, standing beside Seregil to look into the tunnel.

“There is always the possibility of snakes, though they’re usually very docile if left alone,” warned Zella. “The first one through should take a torch, just in case. There’s a lightstone in the inner chamber.”

“I’ll go first,” said Seregil. “We can’t take any chances with you, Highness.”

“I suppose not. Go ahead.”

Seregil entered the tunnel and held out his torch. No immediate sign of serpents, but the ceiling was very low and the way was not straight, though here, too, the floor was shiny and smooth, worn down by the thousands of people who’d visited to this sacred place before him.