No sooner had he shaken his head, a sound greeted them to highlight his fear and need for haste. It sounded like chanting, like religious monks, coming from beyond the sculpture, faint at first but becoming louder. It was a harsh sound, certainly not an angelic union of voices. The voices were rasping, and Vergail shuddered at the sound. She remembered the voices she had heard last night, and it was not a pleasant memory.
Her friend rushed over to the steps, motioning for her to join him. His new found vitality gave him speed, and urgency. Exhausted from her journey already, but the sound behind her giving her strength, Vergail nodded and followed her guide. She did not want to meet the owner’s of those voices. Although this was a fascinating place for her, and she longed to explore and uncover the secrets of her new island home, there was something very sinister in those sounds coming from the dark. She needed more knowledge, she felt, if she were to come back here. She vowed to herself she would learn all she could about this island, and who dwelled in the dark caverns.
They were a good way up the stone steps before the man in front of her came to an abrupt halt. Worried, she glanced up past him, wondering what had made him stop. She did not need to wonder for long, as a spear tip shot towards them from above, missing them by inches and clattering on the step in front of where they stood.
Given no choice, Vergail and her companion ran down the steps whence they came. What followed next was blurred vision and the sound of chanting, growing ever louder, penetrating the priestess’ conscious mind. She stumbled as she followed the man, who ran to the edge of the cavern, hugging the walls as if it would provide a hiding place.
She glanced back at the steps, her heart in her mouth, and watched as red robed figures descended to enter the cavern. This time she could see one of their faces, and she stifled an urge to scream. She was a priestess, and scream she would not.
Chapter 3: The Long Beach
