“Bind up my eyes,” she commanded again.
Alan tore a strip from his purple mantle, and tied it across her eyes.
She gave an exclamation of joy. “O Ar-lane,” she cried. “Before I trod in darkness; now my path is lighted brightly, and I can lead you to many strange sights, and strange things.” As she spoke, she stretched out her hands before her and started off at a quick pace. In silence the cousins followed her. In their position as prisoners in the earth, buried so far down that they had little hope of ever seeing the sun again, they had no choice but to follow the strange, half mad creature who had constituted herself their leader.
The aspect of the road they were now traversing changed. The sides of the passage were no longer smooth and earthy, but consisted of a hard, rocky substance—the floor, too, was jagged and rough. The passage narrowed until it left only room for them to walk in single file, and the air was musty and stifling; indeed there was a pressure in the atmosphere that made the boys from the upper, world stumble as they felt the noxious gases going to their heads.
They made brave efforts, however, and staggered blindly on, one after the other, following Jez-Riah who never hesitated a moment in the course she was taking. For perhaps five miles they walked until they entered a large cavern, the replica of the many others they had been through. They noticed the change in the air immediately. It was purer, fresher, even cooler and the boys revived under its effect.
Jez-Riah tore the bandage from her eyes. “The place of my dreams,” she cried.
“I feel faint,” said Desmond in a low tone, but not so low that Jez-Riah could not hear. “He needs food?” she questioned “Here is plenty,” and going to the furthermost corner of the cave she pulled up roots by the handful—roots like the ones they had had in the lower world itself.
All the time they had been walking they had been continually ascending—at times the passages were almost like mountain passes, they rose at such a gradient—at other times the ascent was not so noticeable, but all the same they realized that they were mounting upward, and the thought cheered the two white men.
They sat and ate the roots and felt refreshed, when suddenly Desmond rose with a cry. “My God—what’s that?” There on the opposite wall, high above their heads, a light shone down upon them, a light that gleamed baleful in the semi-darkness.
“It is the sacred serpent of the Tomb,” cried Jez-Riah. “I have heard of it often when I was a child. It has existed throughout the ages—it will always exist.”