Too Brave By Far

      Water trickled from the cave ceiling—the tiny rivulets forming the only paths through the damp moss all along the walls. Kanlock padded inside, taking a whiff of the air—it smelled cold and ancient, the scent of fungus and earth. The sun shone palely into the cave, but only the first ten feet or so—beyond that, his eyes could pick out nothing, save a few golden-yellow dots up in the cracks and crevices.

      He looked expectantly behind him at Tracker—and the niptor obediently scurried inside, clutching the old lantern in its mouth. Kanlock leaned down and lit it, sending a warm red glow across the walls, and now he could see a little further—the cavern gaped ahead of them, leading down beyond the light's reach, lined with moss and bright little faerie mushrooms.

     Kanlock smiled, taking out his map. He squirmed a little beneath the weight of his backpack—the thing made flight nearly impossible, but the collection of gear inside could not be left behind.

      "Ready to go?"

      Tracker made no sound, only followed behind Kanlock, little feet squishing in wet moss. Kanlock held the map at a slight angle as he walked to let the lantern shine on it, the bold black markings barely visible in the darkness of the cave. He'd created the map over the course of his first three times through this place—each time, he had gone down a dead end in the branching series of tunnels, and each time, they had run out of lantern oil and had to go back. He figured that eventually, he would either explore enough of the paths to find something, reach the end of it all, or exhaust every inch accessible with their current gear.

      Of course, then it'd be time to get more gear. But for now, he'd do what he could.

      Kanlock carefully sidestepped a treacherous patch of slick rock, motioning to Tracker to do the same. The moss was spongy underfoot, and the cold seeped through his gloves as he traced a hand on the wall to find his way. The path was winding, and glowing mushrooms added only a hint of light as the entrance grew distant—their journey now hinged entirely on the lantern. The cave was the furthest one from home that Kanlock had yet explored—right between his home in Neopia Central and the infamous Haunted Woods, about two hours' tiring flight from his own front porch. That had meant he'd needed a more elaborate lie than usual to tell to his older sister, Vahleska—this time, a friend from neoschool was going on a big camping trip in the safe little forest up north, all the cool kids were going to join him, and he absolutely had to go... pretty, pretty please. The story was a calculated one—Vahleska was forever encouraging Kanlock and Katenelle to go make more friends, especially with Katenelle's weird antisocial behavior—and she'd quickly caved in. Now, he wasn't expected back until tomorrow evening—and he had all the time in the world to scout this place out.

      At least, until the light of the lantern died.

      Hours passed. Up beyond the reach of a Shoyru's eyes, high in the frigid crag, something ancient stirred.

      Big, rolling eyes blinked down, staring at the tiny shapes below—and picked out a neopet. Little, fragile, too brave by far, and accompanied by an even smaller lizard—the source of the uncomfortable light. Many legs stirred from sleep, shaking away moss and dirt, and then it began to move. The massive spyder rolled its great body from the crevice and moved ponderously downward—one leg at a time, graceful and deliberate, clinging effortlessly to the wet walls despite its weight. And as it moved, it began to hear the sounds from below, sounds of familiar speech. It was not acquainted with the talk of neopets, not particularly, but this neopet, it had heard shouting and cackling several times before:

      "Okay. So this path branches off into three." The spyder made out the sounds of the young pet's voice as it descended the cavern wall. "Hold up, I'll mark that on the map." He buried his nose in a piece of parchment, oblivious. Now would be the time to strike—but the lizard's light was searing down here in the cave, and the spyder hovered, waiting. "Lantern." The little reptile obediently rushed to the pet's side, holding the light up, and the pet crouched to take it. He jiggled it around briefly before returning it. "Eh, fuel's a little low. We can probably go about twenty more minutes, then we have to bail."

     He stood up, taking a moment to select one of the paths—then headed left into the rocky darkness. The spyder hesitated a moment, then followed with long, liquid movements, keeping up with the Shoyru by sheer length of stride. Still the petpet followed, and still the light burned annoyingly up from below—a lantern was nothing unusual for a creature from Neopia's surface, perhaps, but it might be enough to blind any cave-dweller that got too close. At least, while it was still on.

      Then came a shout from below. The Shoyru fell, wings weighed down beneath a heavy backpack—a rift below, invisible in the darkness to neopet eyes, swallowed him in a shower of rock and dust. The lizard yowled aloud, scrambling away from the ledge—the Shoyru had simply stepped right off, now out of the reach of the lantern's protective light.

      And the spyder ran. Hiding on the far wall, out of the light of the lantern, it moved like a falling star—dashing down through the black to reach the sandy hollow in the floor below, the last stop for its prey. The lizard howled and squealed somewhere in the darkness, distraught—and the Shoyru came into view, crumpled and half-buried in gravel, one wing exposed and quivering.

      Then it sat up, spat sand, and whistled. The reptile came bounding down, half-skidding half-running toward the source of the sound—and the spyder hissed and withdrew to a crevice, away from the light... never spotted by either one. Kanlock sat up with a groan, freeing himself from the dirt and inspecting his bruises—then looking up at the ledge he'd fallen from as Tracker joined him, lantern clenched tight.

      "Oww! What'd I do, walk right off a cliff? Man." He took off his backpack and stretched his wings, testing them carefully. "Lantern," he said automatically. The petpet held it up, and Kanlock shook it. "Uhhg. I'd say that's enough for today. Let's just get out of here while we've still got enough oil."

      Wings freed, the Shoyru picked up its petpet, and fluttered sorely up toward the cave entrance, abandoning the backpack—and leaving the spyder unseen in the crevices above, to go back and wait for the next foolish explorer to happen along.

     When does a child's hobby become a dangerous obsession? When does boyish recklessness turn into total disregard for one's own life? And yet--did the great heroes of Neopian history ever shy from danger? The line is thin between adventure and becoming a brutal cautionary tale--especially in Neopia, where the banal everyday lives of its citizens carry on right alongside dark spells, faerie magic and ancient beasts not yet discovered. Perhaps Kanlock will become another cautionary tale himself—but to hear him tell it, he'll become a tale of an entirely different kind...

The End