Chapter Thirty-Eight—Unexpected Findings

When they reached the top Shiro and Ali were breathing heavily. Debaku breathed slightly faster, but he was otherwise not winded.

“I wish…” Ali began. “I wish I was a top-tier adventurer… like you, Mar’a Thulian.”

Throat burning, Shiro bent and put his palms on his knees to rest. All was quiet in the snow, and now he felt hot. In fact, he was sweating, which wasn’t good. He knew well enough that if he was sweating, once that moisture lost heat, he would begin to feel cold, and could even freeze in this harsh cold.

Straightening, he led the way through the white snowfall. There was a tiny outcropping of rock from the mountain ahead visible near the bottom of the drop and totems, but otherwise they had no idea where they were going. “We follow the totems,” he said and glanced up at the one before them. It had a mouth and eyes at the top—the horns broken off. The image carved within was demonic and monstrous.

“A little foreboding, eh?” Ali asked. “I hope there are not too many monsters within.”

“I am certain Razul and his party have taken care of them.”

“Either that,” Ali said, “or he’s dead.” He laughed nervously.

“Do you always laugh about the possible demise of your friends, Abassir?” Debaku asked.

Shiro turned and glanced at the two men as he walked backwards.

“What? Of course not. It was just a joke, man. Razul can’t be killed by monsters. He is too powerful.”

“Too powerful?” Debaku asked. “Like me?”

“Ha!” Ali scoffed. “You want me to call you powerful? Fine—Debaku, you are powerful.”

“Thank you.”

Shiro was surprised the Mar’a Thulian was making jokes.

“Actually,” Ali said. “Razul is strong—probably stronger than me and Shiro, but I do not think that he could best you, my Mar’a Thulian friend.”

“Nevertheless,” Debaku said, “I am certain he will be useful in our quest to get Jessamine back from the sultan.”

“Yes!” Ali said. “Exactly! That is why we are here.” He spread his arms in a grandiose fashion. “We have arrived!” he called. “This is the temple of Azurbadan!”

“I see nothing,” Shiro said.

“Exactly!” Ali said. “Razul will probably be too bored not to say yes to our proposal, haha!”

“Has that been your reasoning all along?”

“No,” Ali said. “But…”

“But what?”

“He craves excitement, and notoriety. I know he will want to do this thing. It is crazy. He likes crazy, I think.”

“I hope this friend of yours,” Debaku said, “also possesses a hand of restraint.”

Shiro nodded. “Mm.”

“Ah,” Ali stressed, the look on his face somewhat dubious, “I believe he possesses this quality.”

The face of the temple, an outline in gray in the snow, became visible. “Look,” Shiro said. “There it is. Come on!”

He picked up his pace as he trudged through the shallow snow. He hoped that wouldn’t change too drastically from this blizzard, otherwise they might get trapped inside the dungeon.

The face of the dungeon turned out to be the mouth of a massive cave, the rocks surrounding the entrance carved into fanciful scrollwork. On either side a naked mermaid stood, their likeness grasping what looked like a swirling pillar. With one arm they held on and with their other free hand, they blew horns.

“Very interesting,” Ali said as he put his hands on his hips.

Further into the cave, the true face of the dungeon was not yet visible. “I wonder how far that goes?” Shiro said, feeling like he wanted to shiver—and not from the cold.

Debaku regarded the carvings. “We will see,” he said absently. He didn’t look Mar’a Thulian without his turban covering his bald head. Right now, none of them wore turbans, not even Ali. Instead, the fur-trimmed hoods on their cloaks kept their heads warm.