Duchess Wynne was correct about where the Portal would open. We did return to Talahm in the Silinium mine. The dungeon rift was obviously closed, but it was easy to identify our location. The giant Silinium Geode formation was still obstructing and hiding the rest of the cave system. But even before we moved forward, I was able to recognize the wall features that had arrays embedded to monitor the Dungeon opening.

Scorch marks and blasted depressions now earmarked the wall where the arrays had been located. Signs that Cedric, Uron, and Lohne had had no problems creating an explosion large enough to de-stabilize the rift. I’d known they had succeeded, once the Portal had closed on the other side, the pockmarks and burned remains were minimal, the lack of damage proof that the closing hadn’t been very disruptive to this side of the fissure.

“There is a density, a heaviness to the magic here,” Aspen said drawing my attention away from the cave walls. “The air is heavy with traces of metal, water and magic adding to the weight.”

“There is also the smell and taste of blood in the air,” Duchess Wynne commented. “It is faint, but blood was spilled here, it has almost degraded completely, the faint lingering smell suggesting the blood is not something fresh, perhaps as old as a year. The water from the falls is about to overwhelm the smell, it is almost masking the copper scent that remains, but it is definitely there.”

Her comment only added to my worries. The blood solidified and increased my concern for the safety of my people. The System quest that I had received as soon as I’d returned to Talahm and the smell of blood were signs that things had not gone well for my Vassals after they had closed the Dungeon. I was conflicted, filled with angst that they were caught in System manipulation and my inability to predict their capture.

I looked at the System Quest again, hoping to find something that might give me a clue as to what they had been experiencing. Regrettably, the prompt remained the same.

[System Quest: Lohne, Uron, and Cedric are being held by the Seelie Monarch and Court. Free them and honor those Oaths given, Oaths that you have sworn to your Vassals.]

[Failure: The Death of Lohne, Uron, and Cedric.]

[Reward: Variable]

My fears were not debilitating, the emotion tinged with anger. Anger that I was managing to hold in check. Anger that was keeping me from dread, from imagining the worst. That my oath-sworn Vassals had been attacked, hurt, and captured was galling. And troublesome.

Those that might risk the wrath and retribution of a Ranked Prince were few, even those considered a Power would hesitate. Of those that would ignore the risk, it was most likely the Seelie Monarchs that had acted. Undoubtedly as punishment for closing the dungeon, or as a method to constrain and control my actions. I was uncertain which, but it didn’t matter. Oath’s had been given. I would honor those Oaths.

System owed me. Whatever the rewards I had gained, it was not worth my Vassals' lives.

Searching the ground, we were unable to discover anything other than accumulating dust and gravel, whatever had happened here, those responsible had left no obvious clues. There were no signs of battle, no dried blood splatter. Nothing to suggest that I needed to be concerned, but I had faith that Wynne knew what she was talking of.

Moving forward, moving slowly so as not to jostle any of the Knockers, their small size forcing me to take pains to be overly cautious, winnowing through them requiring both dexterity and attentiveness, I approached the tunnel opening that allowed passage from the blind alley the Portal from Summerlands had opened into, pausing by the Geode and surveying the expansive cave system.

The changes to the cave’s infrastructure were substantial. Lights had been added. Beams and support had allowed for passages to be widened. The ground had been smoothed to make passage easier. There were still no signs of tracks or mine-carts, but when you had access to enchanted bags of holding and storage devices, collecting ore and gems was easier without using that type of cumbersome equipment.

Listening closely, I could vaguely make out voices, pockets of conversations emanating from different paths within the cave. The closest seemed to be an argument over a Seed formation and the viability of pruning.

Motioning for the Knockers, Duchess Wynne, Aspen, and Pine to wait, I cast a quick glamour to conceal and hide both my aura and my body. Not quite invisibility more a look-away bit of misdirection.

When I’d created the Ice Mask to hide my features, I’d worked on creating something that had physical substance instead of glamour. I wasn’t sure why now. Sidhe were all well versed in illusion and glamour techniques. It was part of our Mind magic affinities. Mind magic wasn’t the most powerful of my affinities, but it was certainly strong enough to conceal myself or my face.

The Ice Mask wasn’t necessary and never had been, but I was familiar with the physical fabrication so chose to use it for now. Once I was more certain of who the voices belonged to and what was going on, I’d consider if there was a need to change methodology. The Mask worked, and I rather liked the craftsmanship I’d employed to create something functional and beautiful.

Heading towards the nearest voices, I stepped carefully, hugging the walls, and placing my feet in such a manner that any loose rubble or debris was not disturbed. Even as slow and methodical as my progress was, I wasn’t able to obscure all evidence of my passage. Small scuff marks marked my movements as the dust that covered everything was dislocated.

The water in the air had done a great job of bonding with the dust particles, allowing the dust to settle. The high frequency of foot traffic was devoid of detritus, those air born particles coalescing into a layer that accumulated along the edge of the tunnel. The more trafficked part clear of dust as foot traffic was heavy enough to disrupt any accumulation.

The voices I’d heard belonged to a party of Abhaic. Celtic Dwarfs that were happiest when inhabiting underground tunnels and caves. They were prolific miners, more concerned with creating a warren and vast network of caves linked and claimed by House clans then the riches they gained while building those tunnels.

Unfortunately, their ability to process, smelt, and craft ore was abysmal, but they didn’t mine the ore so that it could be refined. They didn’t need these abilities. The metals they collected became part of their diet. Their teeth coated and encrusted with diamond-like enamel that allowed for even the densest metals to be consumed. Their biology was unique among the Sidhe, more akin to a blast furnace than a biological process.

This meant that their skin and bones were extremely sturdy, and internal temperatures could be stimulated to reach the melting point of Tungsten. They were a magical marvel. The energies they were able to channel monstrous. For all that, they were amazingly efficient. Able to maintain and reproduce with even the smallest amount of trace minerals, capable of adapting their diet to available ore stock.

Their presence here meant that either Duke A’Daoine or the Seelie Monarchs had assumed control of the mine. Part of their capabilities was to understand innately how to mine Silinium without impacting or harming potential future growth.

They had one other unique idiosyncrasy, their ability to bond with fire or earth elementals. Once bonded even the weakest of these golems could burrow and destroy invaders effortlessly. It was almost impossible to uproot an Abhaic clan from their warren.

The Abhaic that were engaged in a heated discussion must have instructed their elemental bonded to scout or mine. It made approaching them safer. Elemental golems had rudimentary intelligence at best and would attack without command or prevacation.

“I’m telling you; something has disrupted the normal flow of magic in the tunnels, a current or eddy that wasn’t there moments ago,” the smallest of the Abhac proclaimed.

“We were told a dungeon was closed down here at least a year ago, do you think it is re-opening?” a worried voice asked the group at large.

“Doubtful. The disturbance isn’t large enough to be a dungeon opening. And there was none of the burst or oscillation of energies that preclude that. This was too structured to be the chaotic event an opening would signal,” another Abhac answered.

A year? I had been in CERN no longer than a day at most. If a year had passed, then that meant we hadn’t escaped Summerlands quirks on our trip back.

These Abhaic were discussing matters fairly close to where the Portal I had opened from Summerlands had formed. I wasn’t positive, but it seemed likely the energies they had detected were those energies from the Portal that allowed my party passage. The Summerlands spill-over was what created the confluence and changes within the cave’s energies, a disruption to the normal ebb and flow. That the Abhaic were so sensitive to notice those fluctuations with the Silinium and ley-line present was laudable.

I wish I was as sensitive; it turns out the Abhaic had cave crawlers working for them. Something I hadn’t noticed until the giant worm; maw of spinning teeth broke through the wall near where I was standing, the attack dispelling my illusion of look-away and forcing me to draw a sword and cast shield.