She pulled her arm away. "David, he isn't necessarily dead," she said, voice shaking. "The cave he was in was deep. He could have retreated into it, beyond the point of collapse."
"I hope to God he didn't," David said, his own pain showing. "We couldn't possibly get him out in time to save his life, even if we knew where on that damned cliff to dig."
In the throbbing silence, she knew that his thoughts were the same as hers: to die trapped under the earth was too much like Ian's cruel imprisonment in Bokhara. And while David didn't know that Ian had almost been buried alive, Laura did.
She swallowed hard, refusing to think that her husband might already be dead. Far better to remember that Srinivasa had said she would have a long and happy life, which wouldn't be the case unless Ian was alive. He must be—she would not believe he was dead until all hope was gone.
"There was air flowing through the cave—Ian mentioned it. Doesn't that mean there's another entrance?"
"There could be," David admitted. "But it might only be a narrow crack that wouldn't help Ian even if he did manage to survive the rockslide."
She frowned, thinking hard. "We must look for the other entrance so we can go in after him."
He shook his head. "Laura, you don't understand what's involved. Cave systems can be enormously complex and run on many levels. Even if we found another cave in the same area, there's no guarantee that it would connect with the one Ian was in."
Her eyes narrowed with calculation. "You sound knowledgeable."
"Ian and I explored caves in the Midlands a couple of times during school holidays," he said. "That's why I know the difficulties involved."
"Your experience will be useful. At least, it will be if you're willing to help." Her mouth tightened. "And if you aren't, I'll find another entrance and go in alone."
"It isn't a matter of being willing," he said, exasperated. "I'll do anything I can if there's a possibility that we might find Ian alive. But the chance is remote, and getting more so with every minute. Now that the pass is closed, I can't linger here. My men are needed in Jallalabad."
"Then we'd better get busy, hadn't we?" she said, icily calm now that she knew what must be done.
David capitulated. "I'll call some of the lancers to help look for caves on that mountain. I'll also go inside with you, if we find one, because I certainly will not allow you to go in alone."
He fixed her with a steely glance that reminded Laura of Ian at his most determined. "But if and when it becomes clear that further searching is hopeless, I'm going to haul you to safety even if I have to gag you and tie you to your horse."
She grimaced. "If it's hopeless, you won't have to do that. But as long as there's a chance Ian is alive, I'm staying here." Raising her voice, she called, "Kuram?"
The Afridi, who wasn't far ahead, came back at Laura's call. "Kuram, my husband was in a cave that ran deep into the mountain. Do you know if there might be other entrances?"
He frowned. "It's said there are several caves nearby. Perhaps they are really all one. But I know of no one who has gone inside to find out. Caves are accursed places."
So there were other entrances! Beginning to feel hopeful, she said, "Can you help me find another cave that's close enough that it might be part of the same system?"
He shrugged. "Inshallah." God willing.
That was good enough for Laura. She would put her faith in iqbal, for she had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
* * *
Sanity returned in the instant before the revolver fired. Appalled by what he was doing, Ian whipped the barrel away from his head even as his finger completed the reflex action of pulling the trigger. The gunshot was deafening at such close quarters, yet he scarcely noticed the sound or the shower of earth loosed by the vibrations.
Jesus Christ, what had he been thinking of?
He hadn't been thinking—that was the problem. For the second time in his life, he had succumbed to blind, hysterical panic, and his momentary weakness had almost cost him his life.
With trembling hands, he lowered the revolver and thrust it back under his sash. He wasn't dead yet. He wasn't even injured, apart from sundry aches and pains. It was time to confront his fears with the same kind of courage that Laura had shown in conquering hers.
The thought of Laura steadied him. He must do everything he could to survive, not only for his sake, but for hers, for she had lost too much already.
His mind functioning again, he took stock of his situation. The silence was absolute. Either the bombardment had stopped, or the earth was so thick that no sound could enter. The air was moist and faintly fresh, not musty, and there was still a trace of the airflow he had felt before. Though this particular entrance was closed, the cave might have others.
He had nothing to lose by trying to find out. The darkness—he wouldn't think about the darkness.
He probed the fallen earth and stones by the cave-in, but found nothing of value. His rifle was lost beyond recall. Worse, he couldn't find any food or drink. But moisture still trickled down the walls, and it quenched his thirst when he licked it.
Time to start moving. The cave was high enough to stand in, so he began walking back into the mountain, slowly moving his arms back and forth in front of his face and testing the ground ahead with his foot before shifting his weight.
The cave narrowed rapidly, and he cracked his head when the ceiling lowered unexpectedly on the left. Swearing, he folded over, seeing stars, then told himself with gallows humor that stars were better than the darkness.
He dropped to his hands and knees. The ground became increasingly moist, and soon the opening constricted to a tunnel so small that he would have to crawl on his belly to get through.
He halted, another wave of fear sweeping through him. What if the tunnel ended in a dead end and he became trapped, unable to move forward or back?
Reminding himself of the faint movement of air, he gritted his teeth and forced himself forward. Inch by cautious inch, he crawled down the jagged tube of stone.
Follow the air.
* * *
Though almost twenty people were combing the mountain for caves, it was the bats that showed the way. David saw several fluttering from the ground and went over to investigate, then summoned the others with a shout.
By the time Laura arrived, David had been far enough inside to know that the cave went some distance into the mountain. Though the entrance was much lower down the slope than Ian's cave, there was a chance the two were connected. She regarded the small dark opening with satisfaction. Iqbal.
A brisk discussion followed. David doubted the wisdom of going into the cave when it was dusk and they had all had a long, tiring day. Fatigue bred accidents. Driven by her sense of urgency, Laura retorted that it hardly mattered whether it was daytime since it would be dark inside either way.
Torn between his better judgment and his concern for his brother, David conceded the point and agreed to start immediately. To Laura's surprise, Zafir said, "I'll go, too."
She was touched that he volunteered when he obviously hated the idea. Caves were a source of superstitious terror, the abode of evil forces. Since the native lancers had never met Ian, she doubted any of them would have gone in even if ordered.
Kuram was nearby, squatting on his haunches. "Anything a snake of a Mohmand can do, an Afridi can do better," he said after Zafir volunteered. "I will also go."
"You're both sure?" David asked. "This could be dangerous." After they affirmed their willingness, he said, "Very well. Each of us must carry two spare candles as well as one that's lit, matches wrapped in waterproof canvas, food, water, and rope."
Laura gave silent thanks for his experience; she would not have been as careful. Preparations took only a few minutes since David had already ordered that the necessary supplies be brought from the mouth of the pass, where the lancers had pitched camp for the night. After putting his young subaltern in charge of the troops, David crouched down and entered the sma
ll cave mouth, Laura right behind him.
Inside was a chamber large enough to stand in. As she raised her candle and studied her surroundings, David said, "Don't expect a miracle, Laura. The chance that this will produce results is very remote."
She gave David a crooked smile as she lighted the way for the two Pathans, who were following. "On the contrary, I won't settle for anything less."
* * *
The tunnel seemed endless. In several locations it was so tight that Ian could barely squeeze through. As it angled downward, the moisture was becoming heavier, seeping from the walls until it formed a noticeable trickle along the bottom of the tunnel.
Eventually the space opened up so that he could go from wriggling on his belly to crawling on all fours. The improved conditions made him less cautious, with near disastrous results when his right hand came down on empty space.
He pitched forward and would have gone headfirst into nothingness if he hadn't caught a crack in the stone with his left hand. Even so, he teetered for a moment with his upper body hanging over the edge of the shaft that had opened up.
After pulling himself back onto solid ground, he crouched, head on his arms, until the pounding of his heart slowed. Christ, he hated the dark! But he was no longer terrified by it.
When he was in command of himself again, he patted across the tunnel floor with his palms. The opening went from wall to wall. Finding some loose gravel, he scooped up a handful and dropped a piece into the hole. Seconds passed before he heard a tiny, distant rattle. Obviously the hole was plenty deep enough to kill him.
Could he climb down the side? He felt the face of the shaft and learned that it was very smooth and offered no footholds. Climbing down would be impossible, and if it turned out to be a blind shaft, he would be trapped at the bottom. Next he tossed a pebble forward. It clattered on stone opposite him. How far?
For the next several minutes he tossed pebbles with varying degrees of force, trying to roughly map the space ahead of him. His best guess put the hole at eight or ten feet wide, and the tunnel seemed to continue on the opposite side, with the ceiling fairly high. He could jump ten feet, but into absolute blackness, with no idea what he would be landing on? Leading an assault against a fortified position would be easier.
But he didn't have a lot of choices. And if he wanted a quick death, falling to the bottom of the shaft would provide it. It was definitely better than being buried alive.
There was just enough space to stand and back up several steps to build momentum. After drawing several deep breaths, he wiped his damp palms on his coat. Then he sprinted forward and hurled himself into the unknown.
* * *
Laura's cavern opened with a chamber about the size of a bedroom, then rapidly narrowed down to a throat hardly large enough to crawl through. As the four cavers studied the dark opening, she said, "I'm smallest, so I'll go first."
Though David didn't like the idea, he had too much sense to dispute her logic. "Very well, but tie a rope around your waist. If you get into trouble, tug on it or yell and we'll get you out."
She lay on her stomach and wriggled forward, holding her candle ahead of her. Shadows flickered wildly along the walls as the flame wavered. A nuisance, but at least she had light. What would the cave be like for Ian, who was terrified by the dark?
She wouldn't think of it.
After several slow minutes of crawling that bruised her elbows and knees, she emerged into another chamber. Though she stood cautiously, she bumped her head, which caused her to drop her candle. It extinguished when it hit the floor.
Blackness. Utter, endless blackness, the only sound that of dripping water. Was this what the Black Well had been like? No wonder Ian hated the dark. Grateful that David had been so adamant about precautions, she drew out one of her spare candles, then took a match from the waterproof packet.
The match struck easily and she lit her candle. It was the most beautiful light imaginable.
After retrieving the dropped candle, she examined her surroundings. The chamber was a glittering fairy palace of crystals, columns, and stone icicles. It was also large, perhaps the size of a ballroom but with a much higher ceiling.
She returned to the mouth of the tunnel and called, "I've found a large chamber, and the tunnel didn't get any smaller along its length. You should be able to get through." Her voice echoed hollowly.
A few minutes later Zafir appeared, followed by Kuram and David. A good thing none of them were fat.
They explored the perimeter of the chamber and were presented with a quandary when two exit tunnels were found. David said, "Laura and I will take the left, you two men take the right. If the tunnel divides, don't split up again. Choose the most promising direction and use a piece of rock to scratch an arrow on the wall pointing back the way you came. Be careful, and don't let yourself get too tired."
The Pathans nodded and the group split up. As Laura entered the new tunnel, something swooped by her, so close that she shrieked and threw a hand over her face.
"Only a bat," David said reassuringly. "More afraid of you than you are of it."
"I sincerely doubt that," she retorted, her heart thumping.
David chuckled and they continued forward. They made a good team. Like Ian, he made her feel safe.
This tunnel was high enough to walk in but narrow, with water trickling along the bottom. It also slanted upward.
As they picked their way over jagged stones, Laura's confidence began to fade as she realized just how unlikely an undertaking this was. The cavern system might go on indefinitely and never connect with the cave Ian had been in, even assuming he was alive. No wonder David, with his experience of what lay beneath the earth's surface, had warned her not to expect miracles.
Her mouth hardened. Remember that you are a Russian.
No surrender.
* * *
Ian's leap into the unknown lasted so long that he was sure that he had misjudged and was falling into the shaft. Then he landed hard on a slippery, irregular stone surface.
He lost his balance and went down, sliding on his side across the rock until he slammed into a wall.
Shaken, he did an inventory. Nothing was broken, though he was getting bruises on his bruises.
He swayed as he got to his feet and realized that the combined effects of exhaustion, cold, and hunger were starting to seriously affect him. But he daren't stop as long as he was capable of moving forward. If he lay down, he might not get up again.
How long had he been trapped under here? Hours? A day? More? Impossible to tell. As in the Black Well, he was losing all sense of time, though his other senses were acute. He could smell the water and the sterility of the stone, feel the strengthening current of air on his face.
He was also becoming adept at sensing how near or far away surfaces were. He wasn't sure how he knew. Perhaps the reflections of sound and his own body heat.
He found the next shaft the easy way, by tapping rather than almost falling in. Again he tossed gravel to determine what was ahead, finding that it seemed to be solid rock rather than a continuation of the tunnel.
On the plus side, the shaft didn't seem as deep as the first, and the tunnel might continue at the lower level. He debated how to proceed. It wouldn't be easy to go down the shaft, and if he broke a leg he was doomed.
Then he remembered his turban, which was six yards long and made of sturdy cotton. He made a rope by ripping the turban lengthwise into two pieces and tying the ends together. After looping it around a narrow column of stone that rose from the floor, he climbed into the shaft.
At the bottom of his rope, he lowered himself until he was hanging with his arms straight over his head. At the very limit, his toes touched solid ground, probably the floor of a new tunnel. Releasing one end of the doubled cloth, he pulled the entire length down and wrapped it around his body in case he would need it again.
And so it continued, through large spaces and small, moving through the thick blackness by touch a
nd faint echoes of sound. Once he worked his way down a chimney with his back pressed against one wall and his feet and hands against the other, praying that it wouldn't get too wide for him to support himself.
Sometimes he wondered if he was burying himself more deeply, but the air still moved. There must be an opening somewhere ahead.
The water grew deeper until he was wading through a stream, then a small river. Finally, with a roar, the river plunged into a shaft. Alerted by the intensifying current and the sound of falling water, Ian stopped and made a careful survey. The river, which was now almost hip deep, filled the tunnel. The only way forward would be through the water.
He stood still, icy water rushing around him, and weighed the odds. If he let the river take him down this subterranean waterfall, he might emerge into a pool in a chamber below. More likely, he would drown or be smashed into the rocks.
Not good odds at all, but once again, he didn't see any other choices. There wasn't much point in retracing his steps. He might have passed by dry secondary tunnels, but if he had missed them once, he might miss them again.
Well, he had said that any death would be better than being buried alive, and he was certainly being given a variety of choices. The worst part of going over the waterfall was that his revolver would become saturated so he wouldn't have it in reserve for a final escape. But since he was probably going to drown, there was no point in worrying about that.
He inhaled deeply several times to absorb every bit of air he could. As he did, he thought of all he would be leaving behind if he didn't survive.
Earlier, when panic had driven him to the brink of self-destruction, he had been thinking only of the pain of existence. Yet life had become very rewarding since he met Laura, and dying now would be like leaving a book in the middle of the best part.
Now that existence was stripped down to stark essentials, it was hard to remember why he had been unable to tell Laura that he loved her. It was foolish of him to let his sense of unworthiness silence him, for she deserved to know how much she meant to him. If he survived, he would do better.
During his long journey through the cavern, his irrational fears had ebbed, leaving a curious sense of peace. The darkness was no longer menacing. In fact, it held a warmth that reminded him of the Well when he had shared it with Pyotr Andreyovich.