The travelling was strange to the monk. No matter how long they walked, they were always underground. The air didn't seem stale, though, which was testimony that while they were underground, the space they were in was huge.
From time to time the ceiling of the cavern they were in would lower dramatically, coming down to within touching distance. Lichens and mosses hung like mouldy, damp curtains that they had to push through to pass.
Not normally claustrophobic, Miroku nonetheless would get a crushing feeling, as if all the weight of the ground above was pressing down on him. More than once he would find his heart pounding as he wondered just how much ground was above him, how much stone, stone that could perhaps fall. Cave-ins happened all the time, didn't they? Rocks falling, blocking any chance of escape, blocking out all light, all air...only darkness...
Mikado or Izumi would call a break once they were clear of the tighter passes, saying they were winded or tired, or wanted to figure out just where they were. But Miroku knew better. Neither women seemed tired or winded, while he would be almost gasping for breath.
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Although he had never been born with a fear of small places, his life recently had been ensuring he had been thrust into such places on a somewhat regular basis. First when he came down with that fatal sickenss, and had sealed himself inside the cave, in fear his friends would contact it. The monk could still remember how it felt, lying in the darkness, delerious, his body fighting off the sickness as best it were able, thinking that he was in fact lying in his own tomb. Wondering...praying...he would taste fresh air, see the sunlight, hear the voices of his friends...
And more recently, when that dark spirit had tricked him into falling into that abandoned well, and had tried to drown him. How cold the water had been, the tight ache in his chest as he fought for air...the blackness of the water below that had pulled at him...
"Miroku, dear?"
With a jolt, he looked up to see both Izumi and Mikado looking at him, a worried look on his face. Miroku realized he had been hunched, one hand clutching at the front of his robes, gasping...
Feeling embarassed and like a fool, he sighed deeply, removing his hand and trying weakly to smooth out the rumpled front of his robe, tried to still his breathing.
"Forgive me," his voice was weak, "I...was lost in thought."
"Not a nice one, from the look of it," Mikado observed, and Miroku smiled when he heard Izumi chide her charge.
"No, I am well now," he said, and stood up, "It's merely these caves. They go on and on, with no sign of daylight."
"That they do," Izumi agreed, "But we are approaching an area you will like better, I think. We are not far now."
He nodded.

As they continued on, the roof of the cavern began to rise, and soon vanished altogether into the darkness above. That suited Miroku fine, as he was able to convince himself now that they were merely walking at night, with the night sky far overhead.
They approached a turn, and he noticed right away there was a rather bright glow of light coming around the corner.
"Are we coming to the surface?" he asked.
"No," Izumi said, and turned to look at him.
"Miroku, dear, we're approaching a city. A very large one. We won't be heading down into it, as Illithid tend to stick to the outskirts. The light is coming from there."
"A city?" he asked, "Underground?"
"Yes. And we may encounter people on our path there."
"Say no more," the monk said, a little wearily, "I understand. I will say nothing to anyone I see."
"It's not just that," Mikado said, looking a little uncomfortable, "If we see anyone on the path, especially if it's a woman or any female, keep your eyes on the ground, ok? Don't look at them. Even if they ask you a question, don't answer."
Miroku looked troubled.
"The Drow I told you of," Izumi said, "They have a matriarchial society. And males are on the bottom. To be blunt, they aren't usually treated well, and a non-Drow male never speaks to a female Drow without her permission. And that is hardly ever given, unless it's a command. If you speak to one, you are instantly marked for death."
Miroku blinked.
"We will go on the basis that you belong to us. That way, even if a Drow speaks to you, we have the option of deciding whether or not to allow you to speak back to her. It's considered rude among them to talk to another woman's slave without her permission. And I...or rather Mikado...will have every right to deny her."
This was Miroku's second encounter with a society run entirely by women, but the one he encountered earlier, with Sango, had been a great deal more peaceful towards the males.
He nodded, "I'll say and do nothing unless you tell me."
"Good. Alright...let's go."
They turned, and walked around the corner.

Miroku's eyes didn't want to make sense of it.
They were on what seemed a hilltop, looking down into a city. It was as if it were night time; every hut, house and mansion was ablaze with light. It looked as if some queen or empress had spread out her jewels onto a cloth of black silk and they glittered. The city seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, and the monk thought this city just might rival Kagome's in size.
There weren't as many "skyscrapers" here, although some of the larger houses were several stories high, and impossibly wide. From up here, his keen eyes could make out smaller lights moving along the roads and paths, where creatures very unlike horses moved, carrying or pulling carriages with lanterns. He wasn't sure, but he thought some of those creatures were giant spiders.
The monk sensed more, however. There was an aura of darkness hanging over this city. A bleakness, a sense of dispair, of corruption, of rot. It was as if there was a fog of evil that had settled down around the place.
A faint shiver ran up his spine.
"You sense it, don't you?" Mikado asked, coming to stand beside him as they looked down at the city.
"It's...terrible."
"Yeah. Welcome to Menzoberranzan. One of the foulest cities ever to spring into being. The whole place is like one giant rotten apple. I doubt there's 10 decent people down there."
"We aren't going down there, are we?" Miroku asked faintly. The whole place was setting off alarms in his head, his monk's training warning him. Even he, normally willing to walk into some pretty dark places, felt uneasy at the thought of going down there.
"No, thank the heavens," Izumi said, and she pointed along a separate path that wound along the hilltop, "Our path takes us this way. As I said, Illithid tend to avoid crowded places. They don't like other people. They don't even like their own company, avoiding other Illithid whenever possible."
Miroku fell in behind the two women as they started along the path, feeling a sense of relief as they left the city behind.

That sense of relief was short lived
About one hour after they left the Drow city behind, they came across something in the dark tunnels.
One moment there was nothing, in the next a giant shape rose up before them, blocking the path ahead. He just had time to cry out, shocked, when it attacked.
In the darkness, the only light the sickly glow of the luminous mushrooms, the thing looked like nothing more than a giant beetle, except that it had two arms and legs, and stood upright like a human. Huge mandibles jutted from it's face, clashing together in excitement. Two large black eyes seemed to glare at them as it rushed forward.
Miroku held out his staff before him, getting ready to fight.
Behind him, he heard Izumi's voice cry out, "Miroku! Don't look at it!"
A small section of the thing's forhead seemed to open, and there were two smaller eyes peering at him, tiny and red.
Everything fell apart.
Miroku felt as if the ground below him fell away, felt as if he was falling down into a long, black hole. Around him he could hear the sounds of battle, but they seemed far away and unimportant. Surfaces seemed to come to go...one minute he felt the smooth rock wall beneath his hands as he leaned against the side of the tunnel, the next he seemed to be lying on the ground while everything wheeled around him.
He couldn't remember where he was, who he was, or what was going on. The world continued to pitch and roll around him. He seemed to be holding something in his hand, long and wooden and smooth, but it made no sense to be holding onto that, so he dropped it, letting it fall with a clatter.
After what seemed forever, he found himself on his back, looking up at Izumi and Mikado as they looked down at him, worried. His head was cushioned by one of Mikado's capes, and his ears were ringing.
"Can you hear us, dear?" Izumi asked.
"I...what happened?" he tried to rise, blinking as Izumi gently put a hand to his shoulder and pushed him back down, "Rest some more before trying to rise."
"You got hit by a Umber Hulk's gaze," Mikado said gently, "We're sorry, we would have warned you, but it's really strange for one to be this close to a Drow city, they're usually much further out."
Miroku slowly sat up, "What happened to me?"
"The Umber Hulk can cause confusion when you see all four eyes at the same time. No one really knows why. They're extremely difficult to defeat. Rock-hard shell, very intelligent, and those eyes."
"Yes," Miroku slowly stood up, looking around for his Holy Staff, "those eyes."
He walked over and picked it up, looking for any cracks or chips, "A rather efficient defense. Confuse your enemies, making them easier to destroy. And...I assume...devour?"
"Yes."
"Of course, what else?" Miroku said dryly, rubbing his face.
"Do you need a moment to rest?" Izumi asked.
"No, let's just get this over with."

The path grew rougher as they walked, more overgrown. The lichen that lined the edges of the path now grew in patches covering the entire path. It was slimy underfoot, and care had to be taken when stepped on. They would leave glowing footprints when they walked off the lichen onto the stone path.
Occasionally they would encounter large rocks or boulders that seemingly had fallen from the blackness above, littering the way. However, it was easy to see they were still on a path of sorts, and they followed it.
Eventually, the path rose up, and the four travellers could see a building sitting on the top of the rise, the path rising up to join it.
It looked like a strange, squat building, almost like a giant mushroom that had decayed and sunk, and then someone had hollowed out and put in windows and doors. There seemed to be no straight edges that they could see. Three floors, lights glowed from every window; in a few the light was a sickly green.
"And of course," Miroku said, before either woman could speak, "that is our destination."
"Why Miroku," Mikado said, grinning, "I think InuYasha's sarcasm has rubbed off on you."
"So how do we do this?" he asked, "I doubt charging in there and demanding answers will get us far."
"Exactly," Izumi said. The tone of distaste was back in her voice, but she spoke firmly, "We'll ask to see him. He'll be curious, if nothing else - few people willingly seek out Illithid." She turned and studied him, "How are you feeling?"
"If you mean the Umber Hulk, I'm well enough. Certainly well enough to want to get this over with."
"Alright then, let's go."

They started up the long winding path towards the strange, squat house.
"Is there anything I should or shouldn't do?" Miroku asked, "Topics not to mention?"
"Try not to appear too bright," Mikado said dryly.
Miroku blinked.
Izumi gave Mikado a frazzled, exasperated look, "No, Miroku, dear, just be yourself. Remember that this Illithid can't actually hurt you, not with Mikado present. But try to keep the conversation to your prediciment."
"Why should I not appear bright?" the monk asked, walked alongside the two women. His eyes were rivited on the strange house they approached, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling in his stomach. Surely, if Izumi said there was no need to worry, then he didn't have to be so...well...worried. Yet a creature that could attack your mind, and eat your brains...
"Ignore that, dear one. It's believed that Illithid prefer smarter victims - the smarter the better. Yet they can probe your mind easily enough, so "pretending" to be dull-witted is pointless."
"So then..." Miroku tightened his hand on his weapon, "I will have my mind tested?"
Both women stopped, and looked at him. Miroku had taken a few extra steps, so turned, looking back at them.
Izumi sighed, "Yes. We might as well prepare you now. As soon as we enter his house, you're going to find yourself being...examined."
" 'Examined' ."
"Yes."
"And that will feel like...?"
Mikado looked unhappily at Miroku, "It's different for everyone. When he does it to me, I feel like I can hear someone in another room, moving around. It's very distracting."
"For me," Izumi said, "I hear a low murmuring. Like someone is trying to whisper in my ear."
"Is it painful? Should I prepare?"
"No, it's not actually painful, but it is uncomfortable. I'll be honest with you; you won't like it. At all."
Miroku sighed.
"But you've overcome worse, Miroku," Mikado said in a cheery voice, "What's a little discomfort to getting that thing out of your hand, right?"
"You're right, of course," Miroku agreed.

All too soon, they were standing at the door. There was a strange light over the door; the light it made was another hue of sickly green. Miroku was starting to despise that colour.
Mikado pulled a rope that hung outside the door, and from within they heard a gong.
Mikado rolled her eyes.
The door before them opened, and a young man was standing there. He was dressed in simple clothing, short black hair, carrying a basket in one hand.
Miroku looked the young man over, before realizing there was no emotion on his face whatsoever. The youth's face was completely devoid of emotion or even life. The eyes were dull and vacant.
He stood there, silent, saying nothing, like a statue.
The monk felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise.
"Please tell your master that he has visitors," Izumi said gently, "We come seeking knowledge of Void Dwellers."
Now the youth spoke, but that was no better. His voice has no inflection, no tone. It too, seemed dead.
"Follow me. You will wait in the waiting chamber. I will tell Master Retorares he has visitors seeking knowledge of Void Dwellers."
He turned, and walked off.
Izumi and Mikado hustled Miroku into the house, shutting the door behind them, and hurrying after the servant boy.
They were led to a large room, filled with furniture and what the monk assumed was supposed to be art on the walls. There the boy left them.
The furniture looked rich and comfortable, but he did not feel like sitting, and neither did the women. The art on the walls made no sense to his eyes; some pictures seemed to make his stomach pitch.
He turned to Izumi, "That boy, he...is he..?"
"Yes," Izumi said, sadly, "One of the Illithid's victims. They take slaves to work for them, to cook, clean, do all the things they consider below them. They almost always do...that to them."
"Why?"
"Who wants a servant that complains or weeps or begs to be freed? This way they are docile and listen to the fullest." The sorrow in the woman's voice was palpable; as was her anger.
Miroku's stomach rolled. He clenched his Staff, "Lady Izumi, surely you aren't suggesting we allow this to happen? Allow this boy to remain here, like this? We have to free him!"
Izumi and Mikado exchanged a glance. Izumi crossed to the monk, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"And what are we saving him from, Miroku? His mind is gone. He won't ever heal. He'll never go back to how he was before this happened. Ever."
"He must be stopped!"
"There are hundreds of Illithid, Miroku," Mikado said, watching him quietly, "We stop this one, another one will just come and move in."
"But...surely..."
"This is one of the hardest things I had to learn, Miroku," Izumi said softly, "That sometimes we cannot interfere. What happens here happens on another plane of existance from us. We are not allowed to interfere here. There are gods and goddesses that rule this plane, and we cannot take such action."
The monk looked at Izumi, and there was such a horrible look on his face, a look of realization and acceptance that he was helpless.
Mikado spoke, her voice a little firmer, "But don't think these things have free reign, Miroku. There are those on this plane that, like you, strive to stop such darkness. Like you, they fight for the Light against the Darkness. So all is not lost. There are warriors here, as well."
Miroku sighed.
The boy has returned. He announced his master's arrival in the same flat, dead voice.
"Master Retorares."
The boy turned and left, and Miroku watched him leave, a twisting in his stomach.
He looked so much like Kohaku...
Miroku heard Izumi speak, heard her greet their host, and he turned, looking towards Retorares...
And mentally recoiled.
The Illithid walked towards them. It was hard for Miroku to know what to stare at first. Everything about the creature was repugnant and alarming.
It wore a dark blue robe that fell to the floor, pooling around it's feet. But it was impossibly thin. The monk thought that it must weigh less than half of what he did. It was tall, too. Easily 6 feet, maybe more. It's arms were long and thin - it made Miroku think of a spider, and the purple skin, and three long fingers and one thumb on the hand did nothing to rebuke that idea. It had long nails, more like claws.
But the head and face is what drew his eyes.
As described, the thing's head looked more like an octupus sitting on a humanoid's shoulders than an actual head. The eyes were large and almond shaped, and a flat black, like a shark's. Long tentacles flowed from the cephalpod-like head, draping down over the chest, coming to rest near the waist. They moved slowly, sluggishly, but were always in motion. The skin here looked damp and yeilding. Miroku thought surely it wouldn't take much to seriously injure such a creature.
It spoke.
"Ah. Guests. I have not had guests in a very long time. Normally I would not recieve visitors - I am in the middle of something very important. But my servant said you were seeking knowledge of Void Dwellers?"
The voice seemed oily and unnatural. The monk wasn't sure if the thing was actually speaking through a mouth, or was somehow projecting it. Certainly no mouth could be seen. If it followed the outline of an octupus, the mouth would be in the middle of all those tenticles.
"That's right," Izumi spoke firmly, doing a wonderful job of hiding the disgust and fear she had shown earlier when discussing the Illithid, "We apologise for interrupting you, but you are, apparently, the most knowledgeable regarding this topic."
"Yes, that is true," the Illithid said, "I have collected a great deal of information, both proven and assumed, regarding these fascinating creatures. May I ask who informed you about me?"
"We spoke to the Council," Mikado said firmly.
"Ah yes. The Council. It has been a while since I last spoke to them."
While they were talking, Miroku was watching the Illithid with a creeping sense of unease and horror. The whole thing seemed horrible. There was a terrible alien-ness about it that offended the eyes and stomach. It was as if even his body was upset by the thing.
The whole time he had been listening to Izumi, Mikado, and the creature, he kept waving his hand at an annoying fly that was buzzing around his ear. It kept trying to land on his shoulder, and would occasionally land on the back of his neck, tickling.
It was when he was waving it away for the fourth time that he suddenly realized there was no fly.
And yet that same sensation; a tickling on the back of the neck, a faint buzzing in his ear.
Miroku turned to regard the Illithid, and while it was talking to Izumi, it turned, regarding him with those black, flat shark-eyes. Although no emotions could be seen on that unmovable face, the monk got the unpleasant sensation it was amused.
It's that thing, Miroku thought, a little wildly, trying to remain calm, It's that thing, inside my head.
Izumi was speaking, "Our friend here, you see, has a Void in his hand. And there is apparently a Void Dweller within."
Now all three of them turned, and regarded the monk.
"A Void in his hand? Truly? I would have thought such a thing impossible. How is it kept under control?"
"Prayer beads," Izumi answered, "His grandfather and father also had such a thing - a curse from a very powerful half demon."
"And simple prayer beads keep it under control? This human must have great spiritual power to be able to make such a strong thing."
"Yes, he is," Izumi said, "As were his father and grandfather."
The Illithid began to walk towards Miroku, "Am I correct in assuming the Void Dweller was not always present?"
"You are. It seems to have only appeared recently."
Miroku watched as the creature walked towards him, and stood before him. It took most of his willpower not to back away, to try and keep some distance between him and it.
"Void Dwellers must eat to survive, as all things do. It must be finding something inside to devour."
"Yes...well..." Izumi said faintly, "You see, Miroku here has been using it as a weapon."
Flat black eyes regarded him. It's voice seemed to be a little thinner, perhaps a little more excited, "Truly? I have never heard of such a thing. Remarkable. Tell me, human, do you have much success using it?"
Miroku's mouth and throat seemed dry, "I...yes. Quite well. I uncover and cover it as needed."
"Hmmmmmm. May I see it?"
It reached out a hand towards him, and Miroku found himself backing up a step, a feeling of alarm rising up inside him.
The Illithid froze, and pulled his hand back towards him, "My apologies. In my eagerness to see this, I have upset you."
"It...it's fine," Miroku said, feeling a faint trickle of sweat on his brow, "This journey has...unnerved me, I fear."
"Ah yes. The Underdark can be quite...unsettling for those from the surface. I do hope you didn't encounter too much trouble?"
"We were able to handle what it threw at us," Mikado said firmly. There may have been a faint warning in her voice, the monk wasn't sure.
He berated himself for losing his nerve. His training should be keeping him calm, feeling secure. And certainly with Mikado there he wasn't in any danger.
Yet every nerve in his body was telling him to leave, to get out. The terrible wrongness of the thing was wearing down all his defenses.
I need him. I have to see this through, otherwise I will never be rid of this thing.
He held out his hand, palm up, and again Mikado put a shield over it. The Illithid moved closer, peering down at the void. Again, if it felt anything, it revealed nothing on it's flat features.
"Most interesting," it said, as it gazed into the black depths. The Void Dweller didn't make an appearance, for which Miroku was actually thankful. He didn't think his nerves could handle seeing that eye again.
"So you see," Izumi was saying, "We need to find a way to get it out of his hand. Is there anything you can think of? Some way to...extract it?"
The Illithid backed up a few steps, and raised a hand, stroking one of it's tenticles, the way a man might stroke his beard when thinking.
"There may be a way, yes. There may be. But first, let us discuss payment."
Mikado rolled her eyes.
"As you wish," Izumi said firmly.
Miroku stood back, watching the Illithid and the two women talking, holdong onto his Holy Staff, getting a bad feeling in his stomach. He trusted Izumi and Mikado with his life, but the longer he was here, the more his was starting to feel a strange panic trying to well up inside him.
Please. Let this be over soon. Please.