Gorel and the Pot Bellied God by Lavie Tidhar

Sereli said, ‘Feeling better, gunslinger?’ and there was laughter in her voice.
    He didn’t answer; turned; and washed himself clean at last.
    ‘Where’s Kettle?’ he heard Sereli say, and when he turned around again, drying himself on a dirty-brown towel, realised the Avian had gone from the room.
    ‘What’s this?’ Sereli speaking, the tunnel magnifying her words. He let go of Tonar’s hand and drew his gun, slowly. Ahead of them the tunnel seemed to open into a space, but it was dark. He had the sense of something moving there, of things watching, waiting. ‘Does she know?’ Sereli said.
    There was, Gorel noticed, a strange sign carved into the wall. He looked at it. ‘What does it mean?’ he asked. The falang girl looked at it, her long green fingers studying the ancient design.
    ‘I don’t…’ she said at last. And then, ‘The Cavern of Sleep? No, it can’t be.’
    ‘When people say it can’t be, it usually is,’ Sereli said.
    ‘Is what?’ Tonar said.
    ‘Trouble.’
    Gorel squinted ahead. ‘What is the Cavern of Sleep?’
    ‘I have never seen it myself. It is only a story.’
    ‘Stories have a way of coming true around here, it seems.’
    The falang girl looked away from him. ‘It is from the story of the princess and the frog,’ she said. ‘The Mothers talk about the First Spawn Cycle but there is another story, that there were other cycles before that, the Unknown Cycles, as the god and his human mistress tried to bring children to the world.’
    ‘Please, no more children!’ Gorel said. Sereli chuckled softly behind.
    ‘The story – I heard it from one of the old women who trained me in the temple – is that some of the get from the Unknown Cycles did not die, but rather were thrown below ground, into a Cavern of Sleep. There they wait until they are called again, when the world is ended, and there are no more men or frogs or falangs. If this sign is right, then this is the Cavern – but I don’t believe it. It is only a story. More likely it is an old storage place.’
    ‘But you didn’t know it was here?’
    She looked confused. ‘They say the Cavern moves. It is not always in the same place. If this is it –’
    ‘Gorel, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’ Sereli said. ‘That seems pretty obvious now. We’re lost. Let’s get out of here.’
    ‘Go back?’
    ‘Do you want to try it ahead?’
    ‘We can try not to wake anything up…’
    ‘But you have a propensity to doing exactly that.’
    Gorel smiled. ‘I’ll go ahead and check it.’
    Tonar clutched his hand. ‘No, don’t!’ Behind them Sereli snorted again. ‘I’ll go,’ she said. She strode past them. In her hands she held a long, thin tube of bluish metal. Gorel hadn’t seen her holding one before. ‘Where did you get that?’ he said.
    ‘None of your fucking business,’ she said. It was a Merlangai gun, and it bore the marks of the Drowned God. ‘Be careful,’ Gorel said, and Sereli laughed, turned back, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, her tongue darting for just a fraction of a second into his mouth. Then she turned and stepped into the darkness ahead.

    When Kettle came back into the room Gorel was sleeping. He had been woken up by the Avian. When he opened his eyes it was light outside, and Sereli was sleeping the other side of the room and – he felt a sudden, unexpected pang of jealousy, like a shard of glass tearing through his heart – she was holding the falang girl in her thin arms. Kettle grinned down at him and said, softly, ‘Get up.’
    Gorel rose and stretched. Kettle motioned him to the small table. There were two small cups and a kettle sitting on its unvarnished surface. Kettle poured them a drink. ‘Coffee,’ he said, unnecessarily.
    Gorel drank. The hot liquid burned his mouth. He put the cup down and extracted his small packet of dust. Kettle put his hand on Gorel’s arm. ‘This early?’
    ‘This late,’ Gorel said. He pinched a small quantity of