Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

edge of the hole, dangled his legs over the darkness, and then pushed himself off. He hit the stone floor hard, and fell sprawling. He was quickly back on his feet, bracing himself against the steep incline, flashing the light of his torch around him. It was all very quiet, and cold as the grave, and the gloom swallowed up the torchlight after only a dozen feet or so. He couldn't even tell how large a space he'd entered. He supposed he could call out and listen for an echo, but he had a strong feeling that drawing attention to himself could be a really bad idea.
    "Well?" It was Jesamine from outside, but he jumped despite himself. "Can we come down too, Lewis?
    Is it safe?"
    "Seems to be," he said quickly. "Come on down. I don't see any sign of a welcoming committee."
    "Understandable," said Jesamine. "They didn't know I was coming."
    She dropped lightly through the opening, easily keeping her footing on the sloping floor. Rose had to lower Brett through, and then quickly came in after him, sword and gun in hand. Saturday and Guide had to widen the gap some, but finally they squeezed through and joined the others. Lewis flashed his torch beam around, trying to pick a direction, but there was just the darkness and the cold stone, and no sound at all apart from what they brought with them. The air was dry and dusty, tickling the back of his throat.
    He felt like a tomb robber.
    And then there was a sudden lurch, as though the whole castle had shuddered, stirring in its sleep. The floor pressed up against their feet, and then settled itself, and suddenly they were all standing at the same angle as the floor. One at a time the lights came on—gleaming silver half spheres set into the ceiling. A great stone corridor appeared around them, stretching away in both directions. And somewhere, far away and deep below, they could feel as much as hear a massive power plant starting up, energizing the castle after many long years of hibernation.
    "It's alive," whispered Brett. "The whole place is waking up. It knows we're here."
    "Lights and artificial gravity," said Jesamme. "Not bad, after a major crash landing two hundred years ago. I am officially impressed, darlings."
    Lewis turned off his torch and put it away. "This is the original Deathstalker Standing," he said quietly. "It was already a thousand years old when Owen first found it here, on Shandrakor, and woke it to life once more. They built to last, in the old days. And now here we are, looking for help against injustice, just like Owen. It's like… we've wandered out of history and into legend. Into a place where dreams come true, and miracles can happen…"
    "We don't belong here," said Brett, still whispering. "This is a place for heroes, and warriors. The kind of people who belong in legends. Not like us. This is all just… too big, too important…"
    "Why are you whispering?" said Rose.
    "Don't you have any respect?" said Brett. "No, of course not, silly question."
    "Come on, Brett," said Lewis. "I never knew you to be lacking in ambition before. Think of the treasure!"
    "Yes," said Brett, after a moment. "That does help."
    In the end, Lewis chose a direction at random, and led the way down the wide, long corridor. Jagged cracks sprawled across the corridor walls, and here and there large clumps of stone had fallen away to litter the floor. Sometimes the floor rose and buckled, and sometimes the overhead lights didn't work.
    There were hanging tapestries, and faded portraits of people dead for centuries, and mounted displays of ancient weapons. There were outcroppings of high tech, much of it smashed or blown apart or melted down. But there was no dust, no cobwebs, no signs of invading vegetation or wildlife. The corridor could have been deserted yesterday.
    "This wasn't impact damage," said Lewis. "This is the result of the castle's last battle, against the Recreated and the rogue AIs of Shub. Must have been a hell of a fight."
    "It's hard to remember that Shub were once the official enemies of Humanity," said Jesamine.
    "Not for us," said Guide. "Here, we suffer the results of their torments every day."
    "That was a long time ago," Jesamine said weakly.
    "Not for us," said Guide.
    The corridor finally branched, and then branched again, and they wandered through many passages, stairways, and intersections, gradually losing track of time. The castle was huge, with many floors, but somehow Lewis always found the way that led deeper into the castle, heading