The tunnel swerved this way and that, up and down several times. Seregil guessed he’d gone perhaps thirty feet or so when he saw light ahead and found himself in a chamber half the size of the antechamber, with a ceiling not much higher than his head. At the center of the room stood another small, crescent-shaped stool and brazier, but these, though similar in design to the others, were clearly ancient. The stool was black with age and the seat cracked in several places, but he could still make out the inlay of silver tracery that covered it. The brazier, like the knife in the library museum in Deep Harbor, was eroded by time and green with age. Instead of fire, a lightstone made from a large quartz crystal sat in the pitted basin, illuminating the smoke-streaked, unadorned walls. To his left, a small tunnel led away into deeper darkness, and there was stonework around this one. The center had been cut out by a skillful mason, but the outer edges remained, showing that it had been a rectangular tablet with rounded corners three feet by two.

The oracle might have fallen silent, but there was still an air of the sacred and deep secrets here. Closing his eyes, Seregil could almost hear whispering voices and ancient chants. He wondered what dreams he would have if he slept here, and felt a sudden yearning to do that. Just then, however, Klia joined him. Thero and Alec followed close behind, and the room suddenly felt crowded.

“Where’s Micum?” asked Seregil.

“Here.” The tall man had to stoop a bit so as not to hit his head.

“It smells odd in here,” said Seregil, sniffing the air. It was a flat, slightly metallic odor.

“It can’t be dangerous or Zella would have warned us,” said Klia.

Seregil sniffed some more. “It’s coming from this other tunnel, from the third chamber.”

Thero pressed a hand to the stone wall. “I feel like I’m falling into time itself,” he whispered, echoing Seregil’s thoughts. “There was great magic here once. Fair and foul. Darkness and light.”

“Foul?” asked Klia.

“From a long, long time ago. I think—I think something bad happened here.”

“Something that silenced the oracle?” Alec suggested.

“Perhaps.”

Seregil inspected the remains of the tablet more closely. The workmanship was of high quality, though there wasn’t enough left of it or any markings to tell how old it was.

“It looks like someone sealed off this tunnel on purpose,” said Micum, joining him. “Maybe to keep out the vapors?”

“Maybe.”

Klia, meanwhile, was inspecting the stool. She ran a hand reverently over the seat, tracing the silver inlay with her fingers. “Can you imagine?” she murmured. “For centuries the oracles sat here, prophesying for the great ones.”