The blade seemed to swing faster with every pass. That was impossible, of course. The pendulum could not pick up speed; not without interference. Its weight and size made that very unlikely.

No, Falcix told himself. I must be imagining it.

He knew he would not even cause it to stutter if he was too slow. It would undoubtedly bisect him. The pendulum trap swung away from him again, and he steeled himself to move at the optimal moment. It oscillated towards him, and he felt the air rush by his beak as it passed. It swung away from him again, and he leapt into action.

He dove at the mechanism controlling the pendulum trap. He reached into his vest and found the small knife he’d placed there this morning. His blue feathered hand had to be quick; his life was on the line. He sliced the tension rope tied to the giant blade, and it dropped to the ground with a resounding clang. Falcix took a few deep breaths and looked over his shoulder to see what the old brown bird thought of his success.

“Master, who do you think maintains all these traps?” Falcix said smugly.

“Maintains them?”

“Right. I mean somebody must come by here to reset them after an unlucky adventurer gets sliced into pieces.” Falcix inquired while preening.

“Don’t be morbid, Falcix.” His master told him with a shake of his head. His brown feathers were fluttering a bit at the motion.

“Of course, Master,” Falcix said feigning penitence.

His master shook his head and closed his big round eyes. He walked over to the next pendulum in the row and began to sing. It was a short tune; a simple disarmament song and Falcix realized his mistake as the next blade came to a sudden stillness.

“Never risk injury when a simple song will do.” His master scolded. “You’ll never fly if one of your wings is, how did you put it: Sliced to pieces?”

“We cannot fly, Master,” Falcix said annoyed, but mostly at his carelessness.

“The stories say that the Warblers once flew.” His master responded.

“Master…”

“Do not disregard the stories Falcix. Stories are a legacy. They teach and warn, and they connect us to our past. Now quick stalling and show me I haven’t wasted my time in taking you on as an apprentice.”

Falcix walked up to the third and final razor pendulum trap. He closed his eyes and replayed the music in his mind. He tried to focus on each note his master had sung. It was a song he should know, but he was going to have to improvise a bit. He began to whistle the melody, and he could feel the magic within manipulating the mechanism. It was almost like another arm or a different way of seeing. The pendulum came to a stop after a few moments.

“Impressive. You mimicked the melody after a single hearing.”

“No, I’ve been studying the books you gave me…”

“Falcix.” His master said in a tone that warned against lying to the old bird.

“Sorry, Master.”

“Don’t be ashamed of talent, my apprentice. But don’t become complacent either. You must actually study once in a while if you ever hope to pass your next recital.”

The two walked in silence down the long stone corridor. The air was a bit stale in this underground catacombs, and Falcix could not shake the creepy feelings. Every shadow in the hall seemed longer and more sinister than they had a right to be. Their talons clicked as they walked upon the stone echoed in the empty tomb.

“How… did you know?” Falcix asked, breaking the silence.

His master spun his head around behind him, so he was looking at Falcix. “Your song had quite a few improvisations, not enough to alter the spell, but when you’ve been doing magic as long as I have you start to notice these things.” His master spun his head back in front of him and continued talking, more to himself than to Falcix. “Yes, you’re quite lucky to have a master as experienced as I. I practically helped shape the Warbler’s knowledge of magic, for fifteen years I’ve been exploring and researching the limits of it. I dare say...”

Falcix had stopped following. They’d come to a large circular room with scribbling all along the floor. They were not letters or numbers as Falcix understood them. The scribblings were more like symbols. It fascinated him, but also sent a shiver down his spine. This was a different type of magic than the one he had been studying. It was darker.

“I wouldn’t touch that.” His master said realizing his apprentice had wandered away. “It's a summoning circle. Those things are notoriously nefarious.”

“Someone tried to summon something?”

“A long time ago. No need to worry. This place was cleared out, and the cult was apprehended.”

“Master if this place was cleared out, why were those pendulum traps still in operation?”

His master put his hand in front of Falcix’s beak to silence him. He shook his head very slowly. Then Facix heard the sound. It was the sound of low scraping footsteps. His master motioned him toward the other passageway, one that led further into the catacombs. Falcix raced over to join him.

They sat there listening for a few moments, unsure what to expect when a young human woman appeared at the mouth of the other corridor. Falcix breathed a sigh of relief and started to stand. His master stopped him and motioned for Falcix to observe.

The woman looked out of place. Falcix had not spent much time with humans; they tended to keep to themselves and be somewhat xenophobic. This one seemed to be running around in her sleeping gown. There were several rips and tears along the garment, and she looked cold. As he looked closer, he became much more concerned. The skirt had strange black scorches and was pretty filthy; as though the woman had walked a great distance in it.

Her hair was another oddity. It was a brownish color near the top that slowly faded into a golden yellow near the edges. It would have been a beautiful pattern on a Warbler, but on a human, it looked out of place.

The woman had no weapons, and nothing to protect herself. She wasn’t even wearing shoes. Falcix was convinced she was no threat to him, and certainly not to the likes of his master. He looked to him inquisitively. Should they not call out to the woman and see if she needs some help?

His master just stared at the woman his eyes wide. Falcix was confused, was his master afraid? He looked back toward the woman, and he caught the faintest shadow of something else. Something taller and quick. It was as though Falcix’s eyes did not want to see it; he had trouble focusing on it.

From the little, he could see it was tall, perhaps nine feet, and unnaturally thin. It made his head hurt to look at it for too long. He stared at the floor and felt a little ashamed for having to do so.

“Please.” The woman called out. “Let me go.”

So, she is in danger then. Falcix said, braving another glance.

The thing that stood before her shook its long head and raised its long slender arms to point across the room. Falcix could see it's sunken black eyes briefly. They seemed devoid of any of the qualities Falcix equated with life; just darkness.

More of the creature came into view, and he felt a tug on his vest. His master was trying to ease him out of the room and further into the catacombs. He relented and followed, unsure if he should speak or not. The voice had a way of reverberating in these old tombs. They walked for twenty or thirty minutes f into the catacombs. They’d descended further down a stairwell to a lower basement before his master stopped to rest.

“I think it is okay to speak if we are brief.”

“Master, we just left that human. I think she was in danger.”

“Almost certainly, but she was beyond our help. That thing… I’ve never felt an aura like it before. It was nauseating. If it had seen us, we would be dead now.”

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing. Is this the same man who was bragging about studying magic for fifteen years. Surely you’ve had to fight terrible things before.”

“I have faced up against man and monster in my time, Falcix. That is something altogether different; evil. Now come, quickly, we’ve rested enough. Let us pray that Pagat is with us today. We’ll need considerable luck if we’re to find another way out of this tomb.”

For once, Falcix did not argue or make a witty remark. They both began to run as a savage roar echoed through the catacombs.