Previously on Soul Desire:
Clark trained his heat vision on the glacier, reining in the intensity to a precise laser. He carefully swept his eyes in a curving arc, melting the ice steadily. He deftly avoided the weak places that might just cause the formation to crumble in upon itself, and thereby bury the piece of the Stone of Creation beneath tons of ice and snow. It wouldn't be impossible for Clark to retrieve the shard if the glacier did collapse, but it would take precious time. It was better to go the route of careful precision.
Bit by bit, an arching tunnel took shape in the side of the glacier. Clark easily adopted a routine. He'd melt away a few feet of ice, then stop and refreeze the melting sides with quick blast of his super breath. Then he'd go back to making their tunnel. Every so often, he would x-ray the ground, judging the distance between the end of his tunnel and the narrow channel that connected with the underground chamber. Two hours of steady work went by, with Clark stopping his task only a handful of times to throw a couple of swift darts of heat onto Hercules, who'd begun to shiver badly in the arctic air, despite the Gore-Tex. At least, inside the icy walls of the tunnel, they were protected from the winds that were kicking up swirls of snow and depositing them into small drifts here and there.
"Why are you stopping?" Hercules asked as Clark stood back, examining his handy work with his hands on his hips.
"We're here," Clark announced. "All I need to do is dig down twenty feet or so. There's an opening that leads to a long channel. It'll take us directly into the chamber."
Clark x-rayed the ground. Deeming it safe and sturdy, he floated above the floor and flipped upside down. He began to spin, faster and faster, until he was no more than a blur of blue and red, with the intermingled splash of yellow. He began to lower himself into the frozen mass of earth, becoming a veritable drill. In less than a minute, he had carved out a circular hole in the ground. He repeated the process twice more, widening the hole with each pass, until it was large enough to allow them to slip underground easily.
"After you," Clark said to Hercules, sweeping his hands towards the access hole.
***************
Hercules eyed the hole before him. "Nice work. Let's hope there are some torches in there. Otherwise this is going to be difficult. I don't suppose night vision is part of your powers."
Clark chuckled and shook his head. "What do I look like? A Navy S.E.A.L.?"
"What? It's not standard issue super hero powers?" Hercules said with a wink.
"I'm afraid not," Clark said, his eyes sparkling in amusement.
"Here goes nothing," Hercules said, sitting on the edge of the hole.
He swung his legs over the side and eased himself down as far as he could, then dropped the rest of the distance. Clark heard a soft thud as the demigod hit the floor, feet first and rolling slightly to avoid injuring himself.
"You all right?" Clark called down after him.
"Fine, fine. That just gets harder every century," Hercules said. "Give me a second though. I think I found some torches."
Clark moved back a step or two, so as not to obstruct any of the dim light that Hercules had to work with. He heard the hero's shuffling steps on the hard, flat stone of the passageway. A few sharp clacks came next as flint stones were struck, followed by the whispered roar of a fire springing to life. Light flared inside the previously dark hole. Hercules lit a second torch. Clark floated an inch off the ground and lowered himself down into the passageway with Hercules.
"You are such a showoff," the son of Zeus teased him good-naturedly.
Clark grinned and shrugged. "Hey, when you've got it..."
Hercules broke into a deep belly laugh and handed Clark one of the torches. He slapped Clark on the back in a friendly manner.
"You know, Clark, you surprise me. I never thought that Superman would have such a sense of humor."
Clark laughed. "Yeah, I guess I don't really get to show that side of myself when I'm in the suit. I can't. It would not only blow my cover, but might undermine some of the authority that I carry. People listen to Superman because he's more on the formal side. If they saw him acting like a regular guy, they might start to disregard what he has to say."
Hercules nodded. "You talk about Superman like he's a separate person."
It was Clark's turn to nod. "In a way, he is. He's just an avatar of what I can do. Like Kevin Sorbo is yours. You're really just Hercules. And I'm really just Clark."
Side by side, they began their descent into the passageway. It was just wide enough for the two to walk alongside each other. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all smoothly hewn gray stone, without a joint or break to be seen. Strange designs were scratched deep into the stone at random intervals. Clark stopped to examine one. He respectfully traced his finger along the intricate, curving lines.
"What do these symbols mean?" he asked.
Hercules examined it, bringing his torch close to broaden the pool of light on the wall.
"I'm not familiar with it," he said at last. "But they aren't unlike runes of power I saw once, long ago. They probably help to bind the spells set on this place, since there aren't any gods here to watch over it."
"Anything we should be worried about?"
"Let's hope not."
They started down the passage once more, the ground now sloping steadily further and further into the bowels of the earth, still running due west. They walked in silence for a long while, each one taunt as a bowstring, waiting for some nasty surprise or another to come rushing at them from the darkness before them. More runes flashed into existence on either side of them, only to be swallowed up by the oppressive darkness once more as they moved on. Clark no longer paid them any mind, though he was aware of them as they marched past. All of his focus was on reaching out with his senses, straining to hear or smell anything out of the ordinary, since he couldn't see anything beyond the small pool of light thrown by his torch, or that of Hercules.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking in the darkness, the passageway opened up into the large, circular cavern that Clark had glimpsed when he'd been x-raying from the air. It was larger than he'd thought. He stopped in his tracks on the very threshold of the cavern. Hercules did the same.
"How do you want to do this?" Clark asked, throwing a glance over at the demigod.
Hercules grimaced. "Could be just about anything in there," he said unhappily. "I'll take the right. You go left. Stay along the wall. Yell out if you find anything."
Clark nodded and set his jaw determinedly. He stepped into the cavern, holding his breath in anticipation of some trap being sprung. When he'd taken ten steps into the chamber, and nothing at all happened, he slowly released his breath, somewhat shakily. He mentally berated himself for his unease. Unless there was Kryptonite in the chamber, there should be nothing for him to fear. Except that, for all of his godly blood, Hercules still bore the blood of a mortal. And that made the man vulnerable to harm. Clark was genuinely worried about the son of Zeus. But for now, there was nothing that Clark could do. Splitting up held their best chance of finding the stone and getting out of the cavern. So Clark forged on ahead. He kept close to the smooth, curving wall, his left arm stretched out to let his fingertips brush the frigid stone. Another thirty steps in and he noted a shelf in the wall. He walked closer and peered at the shelf. A trench was cut into the middle, leaving several inches of thick stone to the left and right. Clark cautiously poked a finger into the trench. His finger became wet and he lifted it to his nose.
"Oil," he said, momentarily confused. Then it dawned on him. "Hercules," he called out, his voice echoing in the vaulted chamber. "Do you see a sort of shelf on your side? It's filled with oil."
With that, Clark lowered his torch and touched the flame to the reserve of oil. Instantly, the liquid was aflame, the fire racing along the wall almost exactly to the middle of the far side of the cavern. A second later, the right half of the cavern followed suit. Light blossomed in the bleak chamber, illuminating the entirety of the vast space. Clark took a moment to take in all of the details. Veins of gold and silver raced along the walls, glittering in the flickering light. Above, the ceiling was lost to the ever present darkness, but Clark's sharp eyes caught the sparkling of crystals that barely caught the last reaches of the light. Some grew in vast clumps together, others stood alone, cut off from the others by stretches of unbroken blackness.
Vast pillars of smooth, polished stone stood in rows, leaving a wide aisle down the center of the chamber. Clark was instantly glad that he and Hercules had stuck close to the walls when they'd entered the space. To walk into one of those pillars could have proved disastrous, as they were supporting the heavy roof of the cavern.
At the far end of the chamber, an onyx altar stood on a raised dais. In a golden stand in the center, a piece of the Stone of Creation sat. It glimmered sapphire blue in the dancing firelight. Four daggers stood in holders at each of the four sides of the altar, point down.
Clark took a step forward, moving away from the wall and to the center of the chamber. A white stone inlay in the floor marked a sort of grand and regal pathway down the exact center of the aisle. More of the strange, spiraling runes marred the white stone in places. Clark hesitantly stepped foot onto the path, once more tensely awaiting some trap to be sprung. Once more, nothing happened. He stopped and waited for Hercules to reach his side.
"It's too quiet," he whispered to the ancient hero. "I've got a bad feeling about this. I thought your brother said that these places were protected."
Hercules nodded. "Half brother. And trust me, that's a half too much. But you're right. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak," he whispered back. "I keep hoping that whatever gods placed this shard here figured that the location of this chamber was protection enough. No normal person could ever hope to find this place."
Clark nodded silently.
Together, they moved forward once more, apprehension slowing their steps more than they would have liked. It felt almost as if some outside force was pushing against their progress. Still, they steadily drew nearer to the altar. No threats materialized to thwart their advancement. By the time they reached the steps of the dais, both men were on their last frayed nerve.
"Stay here," Clark cautioned, then ascended the four steps.
He stopped before the inky black altar. All across the polished surface, ancient lettering was scrawled in precise gold veining. Clark studied the lettering intently.
"What's wrong?" Hercules asked worriedly when he saw Clark's brow furrow.
"There are words inscribed all over the altar, but they don't make much sense to me. And I can only read about half of them."
"What does it say?"
"Something about the daggers. Path of the sun is the way. Pieces of the stone once more made whole. Harness the power of light. Only then can the darkness be banished...or vanquished. Sorry, I'm not familiar with the dialect. Let's see...dawn of time is pure. Ending of the world spreads darkness like...I think it says a plague. That's about it."
Hercules rubbed the back of his neck in thought. "Helpful," he muttered. "Why can't the gods ever be direct?"
Clark studied the daggers again. All of them looked identical. Hollow golden handles and hilts shot with thin silver swirls ran down to a clear, delicate, razor-sharp crystalline blade. The pommels were missing from each of the weapons. Only a couple of empty prongs stood there. Clark guessed that the reunited Stone of Creation was meant to be placed in the prongs. Tiny blue sapphires were placed at the tips of the cross guard, which curved backwards ever so gently towards the pommel. A line of three additional sapphire stones lined the handle on both sides. Clark x-rayed each dagger in turn, coming up with absolutely no way of telling them apart. A closer inspection of the blades revealed them to be not crystal but pure diamond.
"No discernable differences," he relayed to Hercules. He read the inscription on the altar over again, once to himself, and once out loud. "I think it's a riddle," he said at least. "Path of the sun. The sun moves from east to west. These daggers seem to be aligned to each point of the compass. Let's see...we came in moving west. So this is the eastern dagger, making that one west. So we can rule out these two...the north and south ones." He pointed as he spoke. "Harness the power of light," he repeated.
"That's got to refer to the stone itself," Hercules said.
Clark nodded. "I think you're right. The way this hilt is set up, light could probably travel through the stone, into the blade."
"What was that part about the dawn again?"
"Dawn of time is pure. Ending of the world spreads darkness," Clark recited.
"Dawn," Hercules repeated. "Dawn is east."
"You think this inscription means for us to take the eastern dagger?"
"It has to be," Hercules said, sounding sure of himself.
"Okay. Here goes," Clark said, reaching out with a tremulous hand. His fingers closed gently but firmly around the handle. Reverently, he lifted the dagger from its cradle.
Once the dagger cleared the top of the altar, Clark and Hercules looked around the cavern nervously. Nothing stirred in the few shadows cast by the flickering trenches of fire. No sound could be heard except for their ragged breathing, and to Clark's ears, their pounding hearts. He passed the dagger to Hercules for safe keeping, hoping that the demigod's mixed blood would protect him from any spells woven around the artifact. Clark would have held onto it himself but he simply had no place to put it. Hercules took the dagger without hesitation. When Hercules failed to be consumed in a giant fireball or zapped with lightning, Clark became confident enough to reach out for the piece of the stone.
Gently, and with great respect, he reached for the stone. It appeared that the stone had been cut into thirds, the bottom half cut straight across and the upper half cut into two halves. The piece before him was one of the two upper halves. His fingertips brushed gently against the smooth, cold piece of sapphire. The light from his torch danced around in the myriad of precisely cut facets. It dazzled his eyes for the briefest of moments. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the shard from its cradle, closing his strong fingers around it. It fit comfortably within the confines of his large palm. Clark tried to estimate how large the stone would be once it was complete. He put it at somewhere around the width of his palm. It would be large for the dagger that they had taken but it would still fit within the prongs of the pommel.
He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he heard it; the unmistakable sound of stone grinding against stone. Pinpointing the origin, he looked up. The ceiling was swiftly coming down at them, the crystals growing from it now flaring to life in the light of the fires. Clark had the fleeting impression of blood red teeth coming down upon them. The falling ceiling picked up speed with every passing second and the chamber began to shake. Loose pieces of stone began to rain down from the falling ceiling.
"Time to go!" Hercules announced.
Clark dropped his torch. With a burst of super speed, he caught Hercules up in his arms and flew across the chamber. The ceiling had already closed half of the distance between them. Clark pushed himself faster, praying that Hercules would hold the torch that he carried steady. He would need every ounce of light to ensure that he didn't smash right into a pillar or a wall.
They cleared the threshold to the cavern. Clark did not slow. The passageway that they had used to access the cavern was rumbling as the stone cracked and began to collapse. Clark gripped Hercules even tighter. He pushed his speed as fast as he dared to in the narrow space, ducking and dodging falling sections of walls. Once, a large slab of stone crashed right onto his back, momentarily surprising him and knocking him off his chosen path. The stone shattered upon impact and tiny pebbles slipped off his body like gray raindrops.
At last, the hole that Clark had drilled into the access tunnel appeared. Hercules dropped the torch at the first sign of the dim light streaming into the vast darkness before them. Clark shot up out of the hole, twisting in midair. He sped down the corridor that he'd created in the side of the glacier. Ice cracked and broke all around him as the earth shuddered. Clark narrowly avoided a chuck of ice that nearly struck Hercules in his head. Light continued to grow all around them as the tunnel came to an end.
Clark cleared the glacier just in time and halted a good hundred feet away from the mass of ice and snow. He set Hercules down in the crusty layer of windswept snow. Together, they looked back at the glacier. The entire structure rumbled and groaned as it collapsed in upon itself. In seconds, the chamber that they had left just escaped from was buried under countless tons of ice, stone, and snow.
"Well, no one else will ever get in there again," Hercules said.
"And they blame global warming for the destruction of nature," Clark said cheekily.
Inside though, it bothered him that he was the cause of the glacier's demise. Though he hadn't directly done anything to make the cavern collapse, he blamed himself. The once majestic, awe inspiring mass of ice now lay crumbled and broken, marring the landscape with an ugly scar.
Clark opened his clenched fist and inspected the piece of stone within it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that he hadn't accidently crushed it when his muscles had tightened during the harrowing flight. Out in the sunlight, the stone glowed with a deep beauty that had been hidden in the cavern. It seemed to glow and magnify the light that struck it. It was a little hard for Clark to tear his eyes away from the stone. He reached for his cape and unzipped a small, hidden pocket on the left side. He'd learned long ago the virtues of having a pocket or two built into his suit. He rarely used them, but he'd gotten some use out of them too. He slipped the piece of stone inside and zippered the pocket once more. He looked at the dagger that Hercules still held.
"Ares didn't mention that," he said. "I wonder why."
Hercules shook his head. "I don't know. Could be that the knowledge of the dagger got lost over the ages. When I used the stone against Dahak the first time, Zarathustra didn't even know of the dagger. And he'd been around for ages. Not even Mnemosyne seemed to know of it. And she remembers everything."
Hastily, Hercules unzipped his thick, bright orange coat and slipped the dagger between the jeans and belt that he wore beneath the matching Gore-Tex snow pants. With the item secured, he zipped the coat again, and shivered against the sudden influx of arctic air.
"Well, as lovely as this place is, I'm freezing. Shall we?" he asked.
Clark scooped up the son of Zeus once more. "All aboard! Next stop, Norway," he announced with a wry smile.
Clark gently floated upwards, lifting them both into the air. He ascended into the sky much slower this time, much to Hercules' relief. Twice now, he'd experienced Clark's super speed first hand. He wasn't in a hurry to endure it again. He allowed his body to relax a little as Clark climbed in altitude. He even found it to be a little thrilling and enjoyable this time around.
Clark stopped briefly once he'd gone as high as he desired. He let the healing rays of the sun soak into his skin after expending so much energy in the utter darkness. Feeling recharged, he oriented himself in the general direction of Norway. At first, he went at a reasonably slow pace, allowing Hercules to get more comfortable.
"You okay?" he asked, shooting a glance to his passenger.
Hercules nodded. "Just fine," he answered truthfully. "I think I'm getting used to this. I can see why you like flying."
"It's always been one of my favorite things," Clark admitted. "As wonderful as my strength and speed and the rest of my powers can be, I could live without them. But I don't think I could ever be whole again if I couldn't fly."
"What about your children? Can they fly too?" Hercules asked, genuinely curious.
"They're still a bit young," Clark said. "Their powers are only just developing now. And only half of their DNA is Kryptonian. So there's still a lot that we just don't know yet. But my secret hope is that all three of them do inherit the ability to fly. There's nothing quite like it. The peace of mind it can bring. The feeling of freedom."
"Not to mention all the money you can save on gas," Hercules joked.
Clark laughed. "All part of the perks," he agreed with an amused smile. "But in all seriousness, I hope they can experience what I do when I fly." Clark picked up some speed, tearing through a bank of clouds like a bullet.
Both men grew silent, each now occupied with their own thoughts. Using his telescope vision, Clark kept tabs on various landmarks as they slid past, miles beneath them. He increased his speed again, using thermals and air currents, and avoiding a storm or two as he raced along. A glance at the sun when they'd emerged from the polar cavern had told him that more time had passed than he would have liked. He hoped to make up some of that lost time as he flew. He had the nagging sense that the easiest of the challenges now lay behind them, and he worried about what they might find in the other resting places of the stone shards.
To Be Continued...
