“How much further?” T’kel realized the moment the words were out of his mouth that it sounded like whining. He looked up the ice-covered cliff face to the climber above him, hoping that maybe the howling of the frozen wind had masked some of his petulant tone.
But his uncle turned and yelled enthusiastically, “Almost there!” It was hard to read his expression, between the fur-lined hood, the tinted goggles, and of course the nearly blinding snow. But at least he didn’t seem annoyed. But it was hard to tell with Uncle T’revor sometimes, even under the best conditions.
T’kel swung his baw into the ice ahead, pulled with all the strength his sore muscles could muster, and clambered doggedly after his seemingly tireless uncle. And he cursed his father again for letting him leave the nice warm cavern-halls of Tanara to join ‘Crazy Uncle T’revor’ on one of his ‘archaeological adventures.’
When T’kel looked up again though, T’revor had … vanished! The cliff face above as far as he could see was nothing but jagged white ice.
T’kel tried to still his breathing as he looked down. But there was no sign of his uncle, and… of course, the line connecting them was still leading up, and it seemed to vanish about ten feet above, maybe into a cave. ‘I’m an idiot.’ The young Dúranak chided himself, just as a fur-rimmed head popped out from the side of the cliff.
“Are you coming up or not?”
After doffing their hoods and goggles, they scrambled down a dark, treacherously uneven, ice-floored tunnel for perhaps fifty paces before T’kel perceived a faint blue glow ahead.
“Here it is!” T’revor called with an unmistakable ring of triumph as he came to the end of the tunnel.
The tunnel did indeed end in … a door. Though to be honest it was unlike any door T’kel had ever seen. It was metal, hexagonal, with a small frost-coated window near the top. The blue light was coming through that window, but it was impossible to see what was on the other side. The door was set in a metal wall, and there was a small inset plate next to the door, with some cabochon-like raised crystals on it. One was luminous and slowly blinking green.
The infamous Dúranak Mystic turned to his young nephew, grinning as he cocked an eyebrow. Even as he pressed the green light and T’kel felt the ground tremble and a hiss come from the door, T’revor asked, “Shall we have a look at a Taranian Station?”
The door rolled aside into the wall and a blast of stale air hit them. Beyond was a dim chamber full of blinking lights, metal and glass. T’kel's heart was speeding. What kind of ancient sorcery was this?
