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NOT FALLING. SLIDING. Headfirst and eyes facing upward, Thami slid down a chute at breakneck speeds. His body rocked from side-to-side, knocking into smooth walls as he spiraled downward. He pressed his arms and legs against the walls, desperately trying to stop his descent—but to no avail. The chute was made of polished stone and angled steeply. He couldn’t even slow his movement, let alone stop it.

Resigned that his fate was out of his control, Thami squeezed his eyes shut, crossed his arms across his chest, and locked his legs straight. Sooner or later, this ride would have to end. If he was lucky, he’d be dropped into a deep pool of water…

Thami laughed at his own stupidity. Water? Here? In the middle of the Ta’Gen—

And then he was airborne.

Surprised and terrified, Thami shrieked maniacally. The sound doubled and redoubled with echoes. Wind whipped through his hair, and he felt weightless—until his back abruptly plowed into a pile of shifting material. He skidded to a halt with more of a jingling plash than a splash. Not the pool of water he had hoped for, but a pile of something small, cold, and circular. A hill of strange discs that had softened his impact. Thami let loose a second shriek. This one, though, was out of sheer joy, not abject fear.

He was alive. Somehow, he was alive and…he clambered to his feet, dusted himself off, bent his arms and legs…and nothing was broken. For the time being, at least, he’d also escaped Aseggas and his pals.

Amghar be praised, Thami thought, remembering his prayer. But where am I?

He blinked and squinted. To his surprise, even though he was deep beneath a cliff late at night in the Ta’Gengan Wastes, he could see. A dim purple mist hovered near his feet, and its iridescent glow illuminated his surroundings.

Comforted by the mist and the dull light it provided, Thami assessed the space around him. The wall directly ahead was built out of massive gray stone blocks, not jagged rock. He faced a thick door plated in some sort of metal and barricaded by a long, rectangular beam. Clearly, he was inside some sort of chamber fashioned by human artisans, not a cave. And he was on top of a raised pile, several feet higher than the chamber floor.

Below him, neatly arranged at the base of the wall, crates of jewels gleamed up at him. Interspersed between the crates, large animal figurines carved from red stone stared at him with sparkling eyes. Hung on the wall above those figurines, an array of shields, armor, and weapons shone with sharpened blades and polished surfaces. And above these weapons, the walls had been carved or painted. A series of human figures, their skin as dark as Aseggas’s, seemed to be telling a story through their poses and gestures.

Jaw dropped open, Thami slowly turned, trying to understand the narrative the walls told while calculating the wealth that lined the chamber. But when he spun toward the back of the vaulted room, his knees buckled, and he nearly fell. He faced an ornate staircase made from shimmering black stone. The staircase led to an alcove, where much of the purple mist had gathered. And in the middle of the alcove, raised on a platform, was a long, elaborately carved and bejeweled box.

A door plated in metal. Figurines and gemstones. Valuable weapons and a story carved into stone. And a coffin. An extraordinary coffin. Thami had fallen into a tomb.

Staggered by the thrill of untold riches and the horror of being locked in a crypt deep within a mountain, Thami dropped to a knee. Trying to steady himself, he dug his hands into the metal discs the size of coins that had broken his fall.

The size of coins, Thami thought.

Yet another jolt of excitement shot through him, and he grabbed one of the discs. In the strange light, the disc seemed close in color to the hue of his skin. He bit it, not exactly sure why. But the bitter taste confirmed the disc was metal. He held it close and scrutinized it. Something seemed etched into the surface, so he picked up a second disc. It, too, had the same sort of markings.

Could it be? Thami wondered. Could he really have fallen into a pile of gold coins? Gemstones, figurines, weapons, and gold? Who would have left such a treasure here?

Thami shook his head. Now wasn’t the time for such questions. He shoved what coins he could into the pockets of his borrowed uniform and stood again once they were full. He needed a bag, some sort of container, so he could take as much of this wealth as he could carry. But the crates below him were far too large. Besides, why would he dump out gemstones just to fill the crates with gold? Somehow, he needed to collect it all. The treasure here would make him the richest man in the world. The most powerful man in the world.

But if he was going to find a container, he had to leave the strange room. And once he had gathered what he could carry, he had to make it back to the desert, escape the Tutrumese and Tafilatans, and start a new life in Numeria. What good would all this wealth do him if he became the second person entombed here?

Filled with a new purpose and urgency, Thami shuffled his feet and slid his way off the pile. He hurried to the door and examined it more closely. Opening it seemed easy enough. There were no intricate locks on the door. Only the beam blocked his exit. So, he grasped the thick, metal-encased bar, bent his knees, and pulled up. When the beam resisted, he bent his knees and heaved harder. Groaned and strained and yanked using his whole body. But to Thami’s surprise, the beam was exceedingly heavy. He couldn’t even budge it an inch.

Great, Thami thought. I’ve made it this far only to be buried in a tomb filled with gold.

Frustrated, he stepped back to better examine the beam. Its left end seemed bolted to the wall, while its right end seemed unencumbered and free to move. A chain was also attached to the top edge of the beam’s right end. Hopeful, Thami looked up, but the chain disappeared into the shadows.

Shadows. Thami paused, realizing the room seemed to be getting darker. He looked down at the purple mist and saw, to his dismay, that it was moving. He turned around. The mist that had engulfed and illuminated the coffin was flowing like water down the stairs. It followed the mist that had hovered above the coin pile, which was now shifting toward the door…and under it.

No, no, no! Thami thought. If the mist left, he wouldn’t be able to see. He had to get the door open soon or he was doomed. There had to be a way, though. Had to be. Why else would there be a chain connected to the beam?

Thami scanned the room again. He couldn’t be sure in the fading light, but something seemed to project away from the wall near the distant corner to his left. He picked his way around the treasure chests and figurines until he stood in front of the protrusion, a square stone block. Made from the same stone that had been used to make the wall, the block blended in with its background. This block, though, was mounted to the wall with its corners pointed up, down and to the sides so it looked more like a diamond than a square.

Not sure what else to do, Thami shoved aside a figurine, stepped close to the block, and grabbed it by its sides. He tried pushing and pulling without success. But when he tried twisting, the block wiggled. Encouraged, Thami grabbed the block’s top corner with both hands and heaved downward with all his strength and weight. The block responded with a quarter turn. Something above him squealed, squeaked, and rumbled in complaint.

Thami bit his lip and paused. The sounds were concerning, but what other choice did he have? So, he seized the block and yanked again. This time, it moved a half-turn. This time, the rattle of a chain accompanied the block’s movement. A surge of excitement shot through Thami, and he spun the wheel for several full turns until a loud screech of stone scraping over stone echoed through the chamber.

The grating sound was accompanied by a rush of cool air. The purple mist that remained in the chamber swept out of it. Once again, Thami was plunged into darkness.

But the sudden movement of the mist could only mean one thing. Moving slowly with his hands held before him, he worked his way back toward the room’s entrance until his palms bumped against something heavy and cool to the touch.

Thami smiled. The massive door had swung into the chamber, blocking his view of what lay beyond. Heart pumping with excitement and relief, he stepped around the door—and instantly froze.

***

Hey there. Will here. Thanks for checking out THE LOST TREASURE OF THE FORSAKEN. Just one more part remains in the Prelude before we start the story proper. I can't wait to share it with you in 2024!

Happy New Year and best wishes,

Will