Part Thirty Three: Cold, Cold Grave For once when Caleb opened his eyes all he could see was white, rather than the usual black that tended to greet his wakings. Still, he was pretty sure that he remained in dark places, and all this snow really did for him was severely limit his mobility. He had no idea how far he had fallen, but for whatever reason he had gotten through it relatively peacefully. Maybe the rush of snow that had hurried past had cushioned as well as winded him. Maybe death was just grateful for the bit of company Caleb had provided him with earlier and had granted him a free pass for day. Whatever the reason, he was still alive, and all he really needed to do now was dig himself out from under all this damn snow. That was probably easier said than done of course, but he really had precious little choice at the moment. The work was hard and it was cold, as cold as the grave. That was something that Caleb still happened to be quite familiar with. In fact, the entire experience of being entombed again had started to make him feel strangely nostalgic, which was probably a good thing all and all, because for anyone else it would probably have driven them insane. This was not so bad, truth be told. He did not need to worry about his flesh rotting from his bones since it was being kept in cold storage, and the rats would be quite hard pressed to dig themselves in here for a quick snuggle. Caleb had stayed in far worse digs; the tomb whoever it was had placed him in back in the day was cold but it was also miserably damp, and with its poorly secured lid the rats had the opportunity to visit him whenever they damn well pleased. Now that he had started to dig himself out Caleb even started to feel altogether rather comfortable again, his own exertions warming up the little hollow he had dug out for himself quite nicely thanks to the snow's remarkable insulative effect. He had been marching since well before daylight and had already had a busy night beforehand. Surely he was entitled to a little rest. Caleb closed his eyes again and placed his arms on his chest, as if he were a vampire asleep for the day in its casket. He stayed like that for several more hours before an unusual sound jolted him from his unconscious revelry, forcing him to open his eyes again and take stock. He was still enclosed by snow, but it had all started to become soft and damp around him, indicating that wherever he was it must have been above freezing outside. "Do you think it was the betrayer?" an anonymous voice asked, whoever it was being quite close by based on how well Caleb could hear him. "Like we would ever be so lucky..." another person chimed in sullenly. "It was probably just a random rock slide. They are far from uncommon in the mountains." "Just like the beasts we are supposed to be meeting" the first voice added. "Damn things are always late, and they have been holding out on us for far to long." Caleb then heard a deep loud growl disrupt the pair's conversation. "You dare address us in such an arrogant fashion?" yet another voice boomed out, as the sound of leathery wings started to join the general milieu. Caleb felt his skin crawl simply from hearing it; he had good reason to be afraid. Even in his present state a particularly alert gargoyle could probably still sniff him out, but thankfully for him they all seemed to be preoccupied with other matters. Whatever it was they were discussing must have been something of considerable importance though to bring out the height of their royalty like this, considering only those of of noble blood were even capable of conversing with humankind in their own speech. "Do you have it?" the second of the first two voices demanded, undaunted by the creature's evident disdain and anger over the first's obvious slight of character. "First acknowledge again what it was that we have agreed" the stone gargoyle countered, equally unfazed by the man's belligerence. Caleb knew full well that they were not a race to take things lying down, and they never forget an insult. "You put us in a difficult position" the fist voice replied, just as Caleb started to feel the snow running down due to all of the additional heat being produced. "With the spiders already breaking their allegiance to the cult, your desertion leaves us all the more isolated at a time when we need all the help we can get to avenge our lord and take on the betrayer." "Your god is dead" the gargoyle stated dismissively. "We have already lost much and will not allow more of our own to fall in your crusade. There was a time when we never got involved in the affairs of men, and with no god to call on us we see no need for us to get involved ever again. Consider yourself lucky we still opted to do this one errand for you as a final parting gesture." "Fine, but do you have it?" the second voice insisted once more. Nothing but the flapping of wings could be heard for several moments. "Take it for what good it will do you" the stone gargoyle finally relented, and although Caleb could not actually see it, the gargoyle handed over the very object the old gunslinger himself so strongly desired into the hands of the second of the two robbed men. "As long as it is understood that nothing more binds us to the cult and its ways, we wash our claws of it." "As you wish" the Cultist in question agreed and turned to leave, his companion at his back. "There is still one more concluding thing though..." the stone gargoyle interjected, and a heavy reverberating sound formed from the collective growls of its companions. Then the sound of screaming assaulted Caleb's ears. "Take your scroll, but the one that insulted us is mine." Overwhelmed by the cries of torment, the noise of distant footfalls could still just barely be heard as the second Cultist made his escape, leaving his friend to die at the hands of the stone lord. Caleb, jolted into action by the mention of the object of his quest, started to frantically dig at the melting walls again. As he did so, the cries started to grow more and more faint, and before he was out even the noises made by the flapping of leathery wings had deserted the place. When he finally did emerge from his now mushy tomb all that could be seen was the devastation caused by the avalanche and the corpse of a single man lying abandoned on the floor. The snow had collapsed a section of mine shaft, and a weak ray of light shined in from where the roof had caved in on itself. Wasting no time, Caleb strolled over to the corpse, giving it a quick glance before moving on forward. Etched on the man's chest was the symbol of two cylinders carefully placed in an "X" position with an bloody "K" emblazoned on top. It was the exact same symbol he had seen at the start of his mission, when he was pursuing the first gargoyle. Caleb now understood what it meant. It represented them breaking their fraternity with the cult. "I guess that means you are all on your own now..." he commented, giving the corpse one last disrespectful kick before rushing off in search of the other Cultist and the precious cargo that he must still hold in his doubtlessly gnarled hands. Hamish Paul Wilson October 19, 2014