3

Hunter and Jack spent the better part of an hour searching the reaches of the cavern for an exit. Far behind them in the dark, the Fomorii hunted through the field of bones, drawing closer with every passing minute.

The sign would have been easy to miss if Jack had not been resting his forehead against the rock to calm his mounting panic. Faint vibrations rippled through the wall, a steady, rhythmic beat. He called Hunter over, who pressed his ear to the damp rock.

'You can hear it,' he whispered. 'Boom-boom-boom, like machinery.'

'In here? What could it be?'

When Hunter edged along the wall in a particular direction, the beat grew fractionally louder, until he could hear it clearly. At that point, he spied handholds in the rock leading up to a small, dark opening about ten feet off the ground. Boosting Jack up, he followed him into a tunnel large enough for them to stand upright, cut through the rock. The beat emanated from somewhere ahead.

The tunnel wound steadily upwards, presenting occasional rough-hewn steps for them to climb, the beat growing louder the closer they drew to the source. Soon it was ringing off the stone walls and vibrating beneath their feet.

Boom-Boom-Boom

They entered a large hall that smelled of sulphur and coal, with enormous furnaces along opposite walls, still black with soot, the tools of the smiths protruding from the dead cores. Half-completed swords and chain mail rusted on the ground amidst anvils and scattered hammers.

'Looks like we've found the back door into the Halls of the Drakusa,' Hunter said.

'If the others got in, we could meet up with them.' Jack's eyes gleamed with hope. 'I was afraid we might have to go back the way we came.'

Beyond, another chamber was given over to industrial production, but here its purpose was less clear: a faint chemical smell hung over benches covered with glass bottles and jars. Bones had been swept into the corners. Mysterious implements lay abandoned on the floor and on the benches, as if the occupants had been rudely disturbed.

The floor of the following chamber was covered with runes and ritual marks, and contained an overwhelming atmosphere of threat. Hunter and Jack couldn't bear to tarry in it for too long.

Finally the booming was so painful they had to cover their ears. The source was a huge iron door set in the wall of a long corridor, but the moment Hunter grabbed the handle with both hands and dragged the door open, silence fell.

Jack futilely urged his friend not to venture into the room, but Hunter's curiosity had got the better of him.

The chamber was lit by a shaft of natural sunlight falling from an incredible height overhead. Stone steps wound around the walls up the dizzying stretch to whatever lay in the dim upper reaches. The floor of the chamber was occupied by a giant with a brutish, bare, heavily scarred torso, its head covered with a leather hood, its arms outstretched and fastened to the floor by shackles. It was stock-still, head cocked, listening.

'How long has it been here?' Jack whispered.

'The Drakusa disappeared long before the Tuatha De Danaan arrived on the scene… an age ago.'

'All that time? What does it feed on?'

'What does it feed on?' the giant repeated.

Jack started. 'It heard me. It can speak.'

Hunter pushed Jack back towards the door. As they stepped out of the chamber, the giant wrenched at its chains again and again, creating the deafening booming sound they had followed.

Hunter took them back into the chamber and it stopped, waiting.

'It's been trying to break free all this time,' Hunter observed.

'It's been trying to break free,' the giant repeated.

'Why is it mimicking what we say?' Jack asked.

'I don't think it is,' Hunter replied thoughtfully. 'Let's forget how it survived all this time. Why did the Drakusa imprison it here?'

The giant continued to listen intently.

'I don't like it,' Jack decided.

'One hundred and ninety-three cried like a baby,' the giant said.

'What's it talking about?' Jack asked before he saw Hunter staring, mouth open.

'Sixty-seven spilled blood and urine on the tiles,' the giant continued.

'Get out of my head!' Hunter shouted.

'What's it saying?' Jack asked. 'What's one hundred and ninety-three and sixty-seven?'

'Never you mind. Let's get out of here.'

The door slammed shut. A lock fell into place.

'You're here now,' the giant said.

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