The Mouth of the Underworld

By Clint Westgard

The Mouth of the Underworld, the eater of souls, has long been a subject of stories told to frighten Hautlyrun children. Its entrance has been lost for generations. Some believe it may never have existed.

But Kasuir and Jasryl have discovered a mysterious cave in highlands above Huispar. The Mouth of Underworld. They are certain.

They are forbidden to enter, warned that the old tales may in fact be true. But they do not believe those old stories. The old ways were all proven wrong when the Ven conquered and brought the railroad and modernity. They want to explore the cave, to prove that the Hautlyrun can be as scientific, as modern, as the Ven.

But sometimes old tales do have a kernel of truth. For something awaits them in the depths of the Mouth of the Underworld. From it, there will be no escape.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lost Quarter Books
• Release date: Dec 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781928035411

Clint Westgard

Clint Westgard is the author of The Shadow Men Trilogy and the science fiction epic The Sojourner Cycle, the first volume of which, The Forgotten, was published in 2015. In addition, he has published a work of historical fantasy set in colonial Peru, The Masks of Honor, and a retelling of the Minotaur legend, The Trials of the Minotaur. Clint Westgard lives in Calgary, Alberta.

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MOUTH OF THE UNDERWORLD

CLINT WESTGARD

Mouth of the Underworld

Published by Lost Quarter Books

December 2017

Mouth of the Underworld by Clint Westgard is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.  

ISBN: 978-1-928035-41-1

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

MOUTH OF THE UNDERWORLD

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALSO BY CLINT WESTGARD

Help me. I am here. Help me. I am trapped.

The words, carried on the wind, from somewhere within the mountain, were so faint I could barely make them out. I leaned forward, straining to see if there was any more to be heard, but only the sharp whistle of the wind on stone and the stirring of the trees behind me reached my ears. I stayed rooted where I was for five minutes or more, my sweat cooling on my back, but the voice did not return. I stood on the threshold of the Mouth of the Underworld, peering uneasily into the darkness that lay beyond the narrow ingress, knowing that I had to step within that void, but fearing to cross into that unknown realm.

My father had forbidden me to enter this place, and it was not in me to disobey him.

Only the past lies there, he had said. We have forgotten the entrance for a reason.

I could have argued that the past was who we were, that we had to face it and exorcise those demons if we were to ever be free of the Ven and their rule. But I had not, for there were many in Huispar who still believed in demons, in the terrible gods of the deep our ancestors had once worshipped. They believed the old laws still applied and that no Hautlyrun should enter the caves, for they were the path to the underworld, where the living had no place. That I knew differently did not matter, the cataman’s son had to obey the ancient laws.

The breeze coming from the mouth of the cave died and silence descended in the surrounding cloud forest, as though the whole world was hushed, awaiting my decision. I had imagined the words, I told myself, imagined the voice, my own disquiet playing tricks on my mind.

But, even if