Maco had time to glimpse a blood trail leading from the pack into the depths of the tunnel before Bentz snapped the cap down on the lamp, again submerging them in blackness. Now he could hear the sounds again, low groans and snarls from far ahead in the cave. Not far enough, thought Maco. He now knew there was no hope for Silman, and little hope of he and Bentz making it out either.

The sounds were distorted by the reverberating walls of the cave, the utter silence and darkness. He whispered to Bentz "back to the entrance...keep your right hand on the wall," and they began their slow escape. He could hear Bentz' breathing, his own heart throbbing in his chest. The sounds of feeding grew more distant. They both froze for seconds after Bentz stumbled over a stone. Ahead of them Maco could now detect the sound of the wind outside the cave.
He turned, whispered "just a few more feet and we're out" turned and took a slow step forward, when he heard it...something was running toward them in the darkness, a series of dull thumps behind them that grew in volume.
"Run!!" shouted Maco and they began to sprint toward the opening, an opening, Maco thought, that they must be silhouetted against in the eyes of the Quarry. When it pounced, Maco was struck solidly in the back by something, either Bentz or the creature or both, and he was knocked sprawling. Bentz screamed, and Maco turned on his back, his spear raised, seeing nothing, afraid of impaling Bentz. The screaming stopped, then Maco felt himself being gradually, irresistably dragged back into the cave. The Thing had him by the waist, but he was wrong...it was the tether that bound him to the body of Bentz. He found the rope, sawed at it with the spearhead until it snapped. He crawled quickly to the opposite side of the cave, staying low and under the threshhold of the opening.

All sound had ceased. Then he heard the cautious padding steps of the Quarry, heard it stop and sniff the air. It must have passed within three feet of him as he lay still. Then he saw a shape move into the lighter darkness of the cave opening. It turned slowly from side to side, its tail elevated slightly. He saw the long tounge flicker into the air. Then, somewhere in the darkness behind him, another creature approaching. He attempted to wedge himself against the wall, felt a hollow just behind him, crawled slowly into it, then discovered it was another branch of the cave, low and narrow, too tight for the creatures to pursue him through. He might, he thought, find that this led to the outside. At the least, it should give him shelter until dawn. He squeezed forward until the walls became so close together that he felt the fabric of his coat catching and tearing. He removed the coat, shivering in the darkness, pulled it behind him through the meager opening.

The walls at last opened, and he was able to stand and walk. He had nearly given up hope that the tunnel would lead out, when he realized he was seeing shapes in the darkness. A protruding mass that loomed ahead of him was indeed an irregularity of the stone in the wall. It was growing lighter. He must, he thought, be nearing another entrance to the cave system. He could now see that the tunnel ahead made a sharp left turn, the light seeming to come from that direction. He strode forward, made the turn.

Before him was a vast cavern, glowing in a yellow-green phosphorescence. The cavern walls were high, perhaps 200 feet, and they seemed to be composed of dark stone and crystal, mortared with some material which was the source of the preternatural glow. In some areas, this material had formed stalactites, eerily bright, or had seemed to pour or stream down the wall leaving a glowing wash that pooled on the floor of the cavern. The material was cold to the touch, and hard as stone. He chiseled at it with his iron spear point, at last breaking some of it loose in several chunks. These he held in his hands, the luminosity intense, lighting his arms, chest and face. He opened his pack, wrapped the pieces in some cloth, and sealed them inside. He gazed at his arms, the sandy residue shining on his skin like stars.

He walked the circumference of the chamber, and found there was no egress other than the tunnel from which he had entered. He found a boulder in the center of the cavern and sat down heavily upon it. Around him, the room shone otherworldly, as if he were sitting within some glowing domed net, with the vast night sky beyond it, and only him left alive. He slowly pulled on his coat, for it was very cold in the chamber, and as he did so his fingers tangeled in the rope that still looped about his middle. He began to weep, first softly, then loudly, and the echoes of his sobs came back to him from those vaulted walls, as if a chorus of souls wept with him.

At last, he took up his spear, donned his heavy pack, and started back down the tunnel. When he reached the main passageway, it was dawn, and dull light showed him the opening. He went for a brief distance into the cave but saw nothing, no remnants of Bentz or Silman, no blood, nothing.

Maco emerged into the dim morning, found the path to the portal, and soon encountered a crew of outbound hunters. They were both pleased and amazed to see him, said nothing when he spoke of the fates of Bentz and Silman. He did not mention the cavern. "Look!" one of the hunters suddenly said. Maco turned to see the spot where he had lain his spear. The spearhead lay on a flat rock, the snow melted entirely from beneath and around it, Maco gripped the shaft and moved the spearhead through snow, watching the snow melt, the moisture hissing and spitting from the tip. He gazed at it, and could see that the spearhead had taken on a slight golden luster.

Maco made his way to the portal, and down the stone steps into the ground. As he strode along the roadway, intermittantly lit with torches or fires, the spearhead retained its glow. This he took, along with the strange rocks from the glowing cavern, to the Place of the Alchemists.