Depths of Madness

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

From the chamber of the slaughtered lizards, they went north where the tunnel arched up. It was widely traveled, as evidenced by the smoother floor and walls where feet and hands had worn the stone. The tempo of Twilight's heart and the frequency of events were increasing, and she felt driven, hurried. She had to stop herself from running.

"Stay alert," she said. "An ambush could be around any curve. Swift and silent."

Gargan and Slip nodded-they both understood exactly what she meant.

They ascended into a series of caverns that spread like a disordered honeycomb around them, walls painted with dried lizard filth and old blood. Bones littered every passage, all picked clean, as though gnawed bare and tossed heedlessly. The fiendish lizards were plentiful here-scores, even hundreds of the creatures swarmed the warrenlike catacombs.

Twilight's blood was hot and Betrayal tingled when she touched the hilt, but discretion overcame bloodlust or courage. Erevan's servant had many flaws, it was true, but no friend or foe had ever labeled her excessively valiant.

Erevan. Damn you. This is all your doing.

At that moment, Twilight remembered the powers granted by her erstwhile patron. She had been so distracted that she hadn't given them much thought.

Thanks to Erevan's blessing, she had a keen sense for items of value, and could meditate to find the location of a chosen object-or person. She considered using this talent to find Liet. It would not be a judicious use of her power-revealing him in the captivity of the sharn would not aid her. And it might fail entirely if he were dead. Either way, Twilight couldn't bear to know.

Davoren, though… if Slip had escaped, why not the warlock?

Twilight decided, on a whim, to search for Davoren. Focusing her mind in the way Neveren had taught her, she reached out with her senses to find-

Davoren was not a prisoner of the sharn. In fact, he was only a little way ahead of them, ascending the caverns as they were. As her thoughts lingered upon the warlock, she sensed him moving, shadowing them from ahead.

Twilights eyes widened as she realized the only possible explanation. Davoren. Gestal.

"What is it?" Slip asked, turning worried eyes toward Twilight.

"Silence," Twilight said.

They passed through the warrens, subtle as shadows. Had any of the others been with them, their progress would have been hindered, but these three were the stealthiest of the seven. The halfling was a thief, the goliath a hunter, and she herself, after all, was the Fox-at-Twilight. The fiendish lizards on guard were not oblivious, but the three could pass them. They stole through the lizards' den, their eyes always moving.

The individual cells of the warrens epitomized wretchedness. Tattered straw mats rotted next to broken urns that must have been beautiful a thousand years ago, and now contained only mud and bones. Misshapen shamans shouted vile praises to a demon while hideous fiendish lizards crouched about cook fires, telling bawdy and violent jests in their clicking and hissing tongue. Twilight understood, by virtue of the earring, but did not wish to listen. She didn't want to think about what might be in those cook pots.

It was not difficult to find a tunnel that rose from the warrens, but it was increasingly difficult to pass by the scores of fiendish lizards that milled around the place. Dozens of times, the three ducked into the shadows or behind boulders to avoid detection as bands of the creatures appeared around a corner or lunged from a natural archway. For all their clumsiness and ugliness, the creatures were damnably silent when they moved.

Still, Twilight was determined. She kept the others hidden and, more importantly, moving. Her hand was never far from Betrayal's hilt, but she knew they could not risk a fight-not when a hundred or more of the creatures could swarm them from all sides and still summon others.

Twilight had watched Tlork fight, and though she had not seen Gestal, she knew he must be a powerful priest indeed for a sharn to fear his power. The only way they would win such a battle was if they could fight it on their terms, on ground of their choosing. They bided their time seeking a way past the fiendish lizards, making slow progress, shadow to shadow, dodging small clusters along the tunnels.

Until a commotion disturbed the barbaric tranquility.

The buzzing hiss that went through the hallway was their only warning. Twilight managed to duck and pull Slip behind cover just in time to avoid Tlork, who came rumbling around a corner. The troll's elephantine leg pounded down not a hand's breadth from her taut ankle, but Twilight knew better than to flinch.

Bellowing incoherently, the thing that had been a troll smashed a lizard out of the way and stomped down the passage. They scattered before him like ants after syrup, fleeing into passages and holes even she hadn't seen.

The only one who did not flee was the goliath, who slipped out of the shadows behind Tlork and padded behind him, sword sheathed. They had crossed twenty paces of tunnel before Twilight even registered it. Surely he was not thinking of taking on the troll alone, particularly without a ready blade. What could he…

Twilight's heart pounded in her throat. "Gargan!"

Tlork skidded to a halt, but the goliath was already gone, having faded into the shadows. Amazing, Twilight thought, the great camouflage his stony flesh gave him against the tunnel wall.

The fiend-stitched troll glared about the chamber, its mismatched eyes-one red, one violet-searching for the source of the sound. Then it snuffled, but that didn't seem to help. Finally, it rumbled on.

A sea of fiendish lizards poured out of bolt holes, cutting the three in two groups. The creatures had not seen them, but they made just as sure a barrier for their ignorance.

"What do we do?" Slip asked in a whisper.

Twilight wanted to conserve her power, but she had no choice. She wrapped Slip in an embrace and danced into the shadows.

They passed briefly through the dull, lifeless world of Shadow, where the fiendish lizards became blurs of inky blackness and their eyes became nightmare spots of blood. With a little gasp, the halfling stiffened in her arms, but Twilight cradled her closer. It wouldn't do to lose her companion in Shadow-after all, she needed Slip when they fought Gestal. And Twilight wouldn't deny having become fond of the halfling-though that was where it ended. No ties, no love.

She pushed thoughts of Liet aside.

Twilight and her terrified burden rematerialized next to Gargan, and one stony hand shot for her throat. The elf flinched and the goliath caught her shoulder instead. There was no malice in his movement. He merely guided them into hiding.

"What by the Lady's love life are you about, goliath?" she whispered.

The stony head shook. "I apologize," he said. "Instinct. Forgive."

Twilight pursed her lips. She did not disparage instinct-it had kept her alive over the decades whenever wits failed. Still…

"Forget it," she said. "But you move on my order, and mine alone."

The goliath nodded. "Yes, Foxdaughter," he said.

Twilight blinked. "Good," she managed.

"One thing," Gargan said. "I kill troll."

"Well then." Twilight turned to Slip, whose mind was far away. "We go."

They followed the troll up the tunnel, which opened into a wide chamber, roughly circular, where the stalagmites and other cover had been broken away, leaving only jagged stalactites like fangs. They kept to the shadows and watched.

If the fiendish lizards' warrens had stunk of death and decay, the stained hall absolutely reeked of corruption. Crude murals of human-shaped and snakelike figures engaging in acts of violence, cruelty, and depravity adorned the walls, painted in blood, excrement, and fouler substances. Gooseflesh rose all over Twilight at the mere sight.

"Let's go!" Slip said brightly. The shadowdancer and the goliath hissed. "What?"

Tlork paced about the chamber, hefting the huge warhammer in his bony hand. Perhaps he was guarding something, but Twilight could not see any other occupant or another door. The chamber was wide and open, and Twilight had spent her shadowdance for the time being. There was no way around him.

"This could be a trap," Twilight said.

"You mean luring us into attacking the vulnerable troll?" Slip nodded. "Brilliant!"

Startled at the uncharacteristic sarcasm, Twilight looked but found only earnestness in her face.

"Right," she said. "If Gestal's not here, then he's likely trying to scry for us." She fingered her amulet. "We go quick and quiet, and put the troll down without alarm, to save the surprise. Gargan first, me second, Slip as reserve. Agreed?"

The others nodded silently.

"If this goes wrong and we face Gestal, get in close," Twilight said. "He'll be weak hand-to-hand, all his skill bound up in attacks from a distance."

Gargan furrowed his brow and Slip blinked. "You know this?" she asked.

Twilight's eyes narrowed. That damned warlock. She'd been a fool to trust him and it had cost her two friends, perhaps a lover as well. No more.

Her jaw clenched, like her heart. " 'Tis a death I should have dealt long ago, but I was blind." She grasped Betrayal. "No longer."

The goliath nodded gravely and drew his great black sword. The halfling stared at Twilight, then giggled through a hand. This disturbed her, but Twilight let it pass. After Gestal was dead, she would interrogate the little one. But for now…

She felt the hilt of her rapier, sheathed at her waist, took out her crossbow, and remembered the stiletto in her glove. They were as prepared as they could be.

Unable to shake a twinge of trepidation, Twilight gestured Gargan forward and rose from the shadows herself. The goliath darted into the chamber, sword out, and bore down upon the troll. Twilight came behind, ready to fire.

The gnarled troll gave a roar as Gargan's acid-sheathed sword hacked into his slim hip. The greenish liquid burned the flesh like parchment.

Twilight fired and the quarrel stabbed into Tlork's red eye, wrenching another cry of pain. This was going well. She darted toward them, dropping a hand to her rapier. If she could get behind the troll, she and Gargan could make short work-

"Well met," came a cold rasp, echoing around the chamber. "You've arrived just in time for the evening banquet-mine."