Plague of Ice

11

The mephits led the four newcomers to the cylinder that they explained would lead down to the "hot place" where the Ilskynarawin, the Frozen Pendant, awaited them. Here there was no stairway going up hut only a smooth, spiral walkway leading down into the gloom. Regdar held the magical torch, which blanketed the room's smooth walls in an unflickering, white light. The mephits refused to enter the cylinder but instead clustered outside the doorway. Regdar noticed that this cylinder, unlike the first, had a door. With a nod to the mephits, he banged it shut.

The moment the door closed on them, Sonja turned to Hennet. "Did you really have to kill three of them?" she demanded, jutting a finger against his chest. "After they saved your life? Did you think that was appropriate gratitude?"

"It was dark, and I had only moments before been staring into the mouth of a dragon! Not to mention that I had just fallen twenty feet onto very hard ice! I felt something buzzing all around me, I heard those little wings of theirs flapping, and I reacted as any one of us would have. I don't like them, those cold little eyes watching me…"

Lidda stepped between them. "It turned out all right. The question now is, can we trust them?"

"Who ever heard of a creature from the planes that wasn't happy to come to the Prime?" asked Regdar.

"That may be true of demons and devils," replied Sonja, "but mephits are neither."

"So you think we should do what they say?" Hennet asked the druid.

"I don't relish the prospect of going down there," she said, casting a fleeting glance at the darkness below them, "but I don't see what choice we have. And they did save our lives. I don't have much experience with mephits, but I know them to be aloof in their dealings with humans. Those mephits were desperate for our help.

"That's one side," she continued. "At the same time, there are elements of their story I have a hard time believing. I doubt a white dragon, especially a young one like Glaze, would have the intelligence to seek out and activate an artifact the way they described."

"But you still think we should do what they say?" said Hennet. "For all we know, they're sending us down there hoping we'll get killed."

"One may lie and still have good intentions. We're not dealing with humans. Mephits may have very different ways from ours. We can't assume they wish us harm."

"We can't assume they wish us well, either," Lidda added.

The druid ignored the remark. She stood tall to make a pronouncement. "Before we go down there, you all know that I'm not very comfortable in confined quarters, particularly underground. Black walls are the worst of all, the most unnatural. You selected me earlier as leader of this party, but I think I won't prove a very good choice for what's coming."

Both Regdar and Hennet began to speak, but Sonja shook Sonja and Hennet shook their heads and cast each other concerned looks.

"Just as well," said Lidda. "More glory for me. Observe."

She drew her sword and sliced it through the air in front of her. The blade barely completed its arc before an arrow shot from the wall to cross the hallway and bounced off the opposite wall. Lidda picked up the missile and inspected it carefully.

"Barbed tip," she announced then sniffed it. "Not poisoned, though. Anyone fancy adding this to their quiver? Don't worry; if this is the best these dead wizards had to offer, getting through here will be child's play. But take this as a warning-don't step in front of me."

Lidda walked boldly into the hallway. The others followed more cautiously. Regdar noticed that Sonja walked more slowly than anyone and kept her eyes on her feet as she took deliberate steps. It pained Regdar to watch this woman with such natural grace lose her bearings so completely when she stepped out of nature. He decided to distract her with a few questions.

"You said you encountered mephits on the Endless Glacier? What were they like?"

"What?" the druid stammered. "Oh. My parents and I came across a small group of them living near a frost giant community called Jotaralund. We were spying on the giants to see if they intended pushing their frontier to the west, into the Snowswept Flats, which would have endangered the few mammoths still living in that region. Instead of giants bent on conquest, we found a colony of ice mephits, living unseen right under the giants' noses. We invited them to help us in our struggle against the giants, but they refused. They weren't interested in politics, even those that impacted on their lives, nor did they care particularly about protecting nature. They're insular creatures, but not innately hostile to outsiders. They shared with us their observations of the frost giants and let us proceed unmolested."

"So you never had to fight them?"

"No, said Sonja. "Hennet is the only one of us who's done that. They're magical creatures, and they have certain inborn powers. Ice mephits aren't the only kind, you know-there are mephits for all the elements and probably the para-elements too. From what my parents said, all mephits have the ability to summon other mepthits to their side, but there's no guarantee they'll be of the same kind. Ice mephits rarely call for such aid, for obvious reasons, if a fire mephit or a steam mephit arrived, it would scarcely be able to survive in the ice mephit's cold environment, and the ice mephit could be seriously injured or even killed by the blast of heat that would accompany the new arrival.

"They also use their breath as a weapon, like a winter wolf or a white dragon, but it's less potent. And they wield magic."

"What sort of magic?" asked Hennet.

Sonja shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure. My understanding is that they don't cast spells like you or I, but they can draw on innate abilities that have similar effects. Something like your magic missiles but probably not as fierce. You're lucky they didn't use this on you up above. I'm not sure why they didn't, but I suspect it's something they can do only a few times a day.

She paused, then continued. "There's something else, too. Regdar, you may be concerned about this. It shouldn't worry the rest of us too much."

"Why just me?" asked Regdar.

"Because you wear metal armor. They can chill any kind of metal until it's extremely cold-your sword, your breastplate, anything metal. If it's on you, it will become unbearable to touch, and you won't be able to fight well, if at all. The effect fades before too long, but if a fight should break out with the mephits, he ready to shed your armor at the first sign of danger. Otherwise, you could end up frozen and unable to fight.

"Don't underestimate these creatures," she concluded. "They may be small, but that doesn't mean they're insignificant or easy to kill."

"Amen to that," added Lidda, who was smaller still. Then she froze in her tracks, keenly eyeing the floor and walls ahead of her. "There's another trap here."

All three of them behind Lidda likewise stopped, barely daring to breathe heavily.

"Good work spotting it," Regdar offered. "Can you make it safe?"

"I don't need to," Lidda replied. "That's what concerns me. It's already been disabled."

"What do you mean?" asked Hennet, striding up next to her.

Lidda pointed out a thin, horizontal line etched into the wall. None of the others would have noticed it without Lidda's pointing finger to guide their eyes.

"There's a scything blade in there," she explained. "Walk through the hallway without first tapping on this part of the wall and the blade flies, out to slice you in two at the waist-or takes your head off, if you're me."

"Delightful," said Regdar, who'd witnessed the effectiveness of such diabolical devices more than he cared to dwell on. "But you say somebody disabled it? Good of them."

"What's more, I don't think it was done long ago," Lidda said, running her finger along the inside of the thin groove.

"Why not?" asked Sonja.

Lidda pulled back her finger. It was covered with a dark brown, powdery substance. No one needed to be told what it was, but Lidda said it anyway. "Dried blood."

"Could it be Glaze's?" asked Hennet. "The mephits said he was down here."

"It could be," Sonja allowed, "but maybe not. Savanak talked about other humans who were heading here just before the cold began spreading."

"Maybe," said Lidda, "but if others came here before us, why didn't the mephits mention them?"

"Perhaps they don't know about them," offered Regdar. "Maybe the mephits hadn't been blown through the portal yet at that time."

"Or maybe," Hennet sneered, "our chilly, little friends didn't want to tell us that we're the second group of fools to tackle this job, because the first group never came back."

"With no other evidence, it's pointless to conjecture," Sonja replied.

"Then consider this," Hennet continued. "One of them-whatever 'them' was-met his fate right here. The question foremost in my mind is, what happened to the body?"

No one answered because Lidda was already proceeding farther along the hallway. Sonja did her best to hold her head high and look straight ahead. The jet black walls that reflected nothing felt closer around her with each step.

Regdar put a hand on her shoulder. Hennet, oblivious to the familiar contact, walked farther ahead, just behind Lidda. He had no intention of getting either ahead of her or too far behind her.

"Does something about this place bother you?" Hennet whispered to the halfling.

"A great many things," she replied. "Do you have something specific in mind?"

"This tunnel is clearly not natural. No tools carved out this hallway-they would have left marks of some kind, even small ones. Magic dug this passage. The dimensions are perfect and the material is perfectly smooth. And yet-"

Lidda finished his sentence for him. "Yet the two traps we've encountered were simple, mechanical machines. You'd think that wizards who could build a place like this would install magical traps, or at least better mundane ones."

"Traps that a thief…pardon me, a rogue such as yourself would have a harder time spotting."

"Isn't it curious?" asked Lidda. "It's almost as if those traps were deliberately made simple. Why? Maybe to lure us into a false sense of security before… thwap!"

Sonja bit her lip and grew even more pale, much to Regdar's concern.

"Please, you two," demanded Regdar. "Some consideration for Sonja."

The sorcerer and the halfling turned back to see the fighter, his hand still on the ice druid's shoulder. She shook and trembled, and tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. Hennet raced back to her.

"Sonja, I'm sorry, so sorry. Look," he said, "maybe you should go back to the surface and keep an eye on the mephits. We'll bring back the Frozen Pendant."

"No," Sonja answered. "I will not go up there and wait for you, like some war widow. I'm just a little… out of my element down here, but I can deal with it. Bear with me."

Hennet shot Regdar a stern look, as if to say "I'll take it from here." Regdar automatically retracted his hand from Sonja's shoulder, just as the sorcerer folded her into an embrace.

The warrior gave them a long, hard look, his mouth sinking into a deep scowl, before stepping forward to join Lidda. He bent over and whispered to the halfling, "While we smooth over lovers' squabbles, cities freeze." Regdar strode forward, ahead of Lidda into the hallway.

It was just a moment's lapse, and Lidda was ready to caution him, but before she could say anything, Regdar's foot slipped through the floor. He tumbled forward, grasping fruitlessly at the slick wall for some kind of handhold, before vanishing completely. A loud crash sounded from beneath. The floor looked completely intact.

"An illusionary floor!" cried Lidda. She, Hennet, and Sonja all rushed forward to what Lidda estimated was the edge of the trap area. They feared the worst, until they heard a loud stream of profanity emanating from below.

"Regdar!" shouted Sonja. "Are you hurt?"

"No," came Regdar's voice through the false floor. "I'm an idiot, but I'm not hurt. Something cushioned my fall. I don't know what it is

… there's no light down here."

"I can dispel this illusion," said Sonja, extended her silver ring, but Lidda said, "No need." She shoved her hand through the floor and held it there for about ten seconds. The illusionary floor flickered before them then vanished altogether. The pit it hid covered the full width of the passageway and extended for a fair length, though not so far that they couldn't jump it if they needed to. Hennet held the torch over the pit, revealing an embarrassed Regdar standing in the pit's center about twenty feet below them.

"How in all the Planes did you survive that?" asked Lidda.

"Well," answered Regdar, "I landed on this." He bent over and his face turned white as he looked up to the others. "It's a corpse."

The dead man's neck was broken, undoubtedly in the same fall that Regdar had just survived. The body was otherwise intact-there were no spikes or other diabolical devices at the bottom of the pit.

The pit was not warmed by the magical heat in the hallway above. Frost clung to the black walls, the fortunate result being that the corpse was not badly decomposed and barely stank.

"Another of the other party," said Hennet. "You're quite lucky to be alive, Regdar."

"I don't suppose any of you have rope?" said the fighter.

The three of them each shook their heads to each other.

"Does he?" suggested Sonja.

"Uh…" Regdar bent over and gave the corpse a quick search. "I don't think I feel anything like that. He has a few potions or something. We may as well keep those."

"Fine," said Hennet. "Toss them up here."

Regdar pulled three small flasks from the dead adventurer's belt and threw them upward. The sorcerer grabbed them, one after another, and held them up to the torch for closer inspection. When he did, he almost screamed at the revelation.

"Be careful with that stuff! You can't just toss it around like that. You'll kill us all!"

"You're the one who told me to," Regdar protested. "What is it?"

"It's alchemist fire," Hennet explained. "I've never seen it used, but I've heard very impressive stories about it. It's the liquid equivalent of a fireball spell and just as destructive. You throw it, the flask breaks, and the stuff ignites on contact with air. Fools have been known to open a flask of this, not realizing what it was, and destroy buildings along with themselves."

"This is all very fascinating," Regdar noted as Hennet carefully hid the vials in his cloak. "Unfortunately, I'm still down here in the pit. If anyone has any other ideas, I'm listening."

Lidda looked briefly at Hennet and Sonja before fishing reluctantly in her pocket. "I have just the thing," she admitted, a note of sadness clear in her voice. She pulled out a small bottle of greenish liquid.

"Catch this," she said, before tossing it to Regdar in the pit.

"What is it?" Regdar inspected it carefully.

"It's a potion of flight," explained the halfling. "They were selling them at the magic shop in Vasaria. They weren't cheap, but I decided to get one, on a lark. I thought it would be fun to fly, if only for a little while."

"Vasaria?" said Regdar. "That was more than a month ago. Why didn't you mention this?"

"I thought you might think it was silly," said Lidda. "The halfling who wanted to he a bird."

Regdar smiled at the thought. She meant to use it for fun. "You should have told me. I would have bought one, too."

"Flying inside a dungeon may not be the freest feeling ever," Lidda noted, "but at least the potion will be put to good use. Better than what I intended it for. Drink away!"

The fighter uncorked the bottle and downed its thin, nearly tasteless contents. Nothing happened. "Are you sure that magic store didn't rob you?" Regdar asked, looking up at Lidda, who peered back down into the pit.

Regdar's feet lifted off the icy stone floor. "Oh my," he gasped. He was flying! He kicked his legs but that didn't stop his upward rise. Instead it knocked him into a slow, horizonal spin. He tried waving his arms to steady himself, but this only made him bump against the sides of the pit as he rose. He steadied himself in the center and realized that struggling only made it worse, so he allowed himself to float gently back to the level of the hallway.

He dangled up above the pit, extending a hand upward to keep himself from bumping into the ceiling. He smiled at Lidda as he drifted past her.

"What's it like?" the halfling asked.

"Why not find out?" Regdar was getting the hang of maneuvering now, and he swung his body around until his back was to Lidda. She climbed onto his shoulders, then he leveled himself out parallel to the floor. They flew past Sonja and Hennet and back up the hallway they'd just come through, which Regdar knew was safe from traps. The warrior's heavy armor kept him from going very fast, but that was fine. They were barely five feet off the ground, but the thrill remained as the two of them glided through the dungeon with grace and majesty, like a dragon rider on her mighty steed.

"How much longer will this last?" asked Regdar.

"Probably a few more minutes," said Lidda. Noting that Hennet and Sonja were well out of earshot, she went on, "You have to promise me you're not going to do anything like that again. I know you miss Naull and you don't think Hennet is worthy of Sonja. That doesn't matter. You staying alive is what matters."

The fighter began to object, but Lidda silenced him. "You don't have to apologize. Just remember-Naull may have loved you, but other people still care about you. We'd better get back now."

They floated back up to the others just in time for the spell to fade and Regdar to settle slowly to the floor.

"That's impressive," said Hennet with a smile. "I'm going to have to add a flight spell to my repertoire."

Sonja, too, seemed much more at ease after the playful interlude. Nobody felt the need to castigate Regdar for what he'd done.

Having cleared the pit, they found no more traps for a good length down the hallway. This worried Lidda greatly. She understood all too well why the designer of a dungeon like this would do such a thing: to lure looters, or at least looters less canny than she, into a false sense of security.

She was sure of it when the featureless walls were suddenly interrupted by a mural almost as detailed as those adorning the subterranean mall above. It showed a hand clutching an ungainly black lump with a simple chain hanging below it. There was no body with this hand, only part of an arm in an ornately embroidered sleeve. Radiating out from the lump were shimmering waves of frost, which looked so familiar that the artist could only have witnessed this phenomenon firsthand. The waves rippled over a vast, sandy expanse, leaving the image of a frozen desert kingdom dimly recognizable in the back of the image.

Beyond the image, the corridor came to an end. A forbidding, black door filled the wall ahead. The only two choices were to turn back or open the door.

"It seems your mother wasn't making up that story after all," said Lidda, holding a hand over the intricate display but careful not to touch it.

"I guess not," said Sonja. "The Frozen Pendant must rest beyond this door. Can you pick the lock?"

"Oh, probably," said Lidda, looking carefully into the keyhole. "Ancient locks, modern locks, they're pretty much all the same. Isn't it funny? The rest of the dungeon is made of whatever this black substance is-basalt, perhaps?-yet the locks are still made of good old-fashioned iron."

"Just be careful," said Regdar, and Lidda shot him a look as if to say, You don't have to remind me to be careful.

Lidda worked at the lock for a few minutes while the others stood back, half expecting the door to explode or some monster to smash through. As it was, Lidda cracked the lock with no surprises, and the door swung slowly open, revealing a large, empty room. It was much wider than the passageway and with a higher ceiling. In fact, it looked to be a single, large, night-black cube. Another closed door stood opposite the entranceway.

"After you, noble warriors," said Lidda. She gave a little bow and ushered the others through. Regdar and Hennet looked at each other, and the fighter took the lead, stepping cautiously over the threshold into the bizarre room. He sniffed the air.

Regdar's brow furrowed. "Smells sort of like… meat?"

"I think you're right. What is this place?" asked Hennet as he stepped through behind him. Lidda helped Sonja through last of all. Hennet scanned the room and found that every wall, ceiling, and floor was composed of the same material and every inch of it was a uniform, jet black-all but a faint discoloration near one of the corners. He stepped over and ran his foot through it, spreading something across the floor. He held the torch down to it.

"It's ash," he said. "Ash, and something else." He poked the toe of his boot against strange bumps and splash marks that seemed almost to be iron, as if something had melted onto the floor then cooled again.

"Why build a room shaped like this?" Sonja asked.

"Wizards built it," answered Regdar. "Even if they were here right now, there'd be no point in asking their motivations."

Lidda went to work on the far door. No sooner had she slipped her lockpick into the lock than a loud noise came from behind her. All four of them turned to look and saw that the door they had just come through had slammed shut, closing them inside the strange room.

"Don't worry," Lidda reassured everyone. "We'll worry about that on the way out." The expression on her face, though, made it clear to Regdar that she wasn't entirely convinced of that herself.

"If there is a way out," muttered Sonja. She was standing in the dead center of the room, intimidated by the unnatural black walls and trembling slightly. A bead of perspiration rolled down her forehead and onto her face. Her eyes watered, and she tried her very best to resist the urge to complain.

"It is hot under this armor," complained Regdar, adjusting his breastplate.

Hennet felt the sweat building in his armpits and dripping down his sides. "It's hot even without armor. Lidda, I hate to annoy an artist while she's working, but is it possible to pick a little faster?" He walked over to the side of the room and put his hand against the wall but yanked it away in shock.

"This room is an oven!"

Lidda looked back at him.

"The walls are growing hotter by the second," the sorcerer said. He reached down to touch the floor. "And the floor too! It'll burn through our boots in no time."

Regdar frantically cast aside his armor, which was growing hotter. He tossed his breastplate onto the floor, where it formed an arched platform. "Your shoes are the thinnest," he told Sonja. "Stand on it."The druid stepped onto the piece of armor but wondered what good it would do.

"I almost have it open!" said Lidda frantically, "but there has to be a way to turn the heat off. Search the walls, search for a hidden panel or something."

"This heat is infernal!" cried Regdar, running his hands along the near-scorching wall, hopping to keep the soles of his boots from burning. How could something so black be so hot? "What I wouldn't give for some ice right now!"

The sickly, dry smell of superheat filled the air. The ashes on the floor smoldered, and the soles of everyone's boots smoked. Regdar skipped back to the door they'd come through only to find that it, too, was locked. He pushed all of his weight against it to try and force it, burning his shoulder in the process, but the door wouldn't give in the slightest.

"Wait," said Sonja, still perched on the breastplate at the room's center. "This must be a magical effect, and that means I can dispel it using this ring."

"How many more charges do you have on that?" asked Regdar.

"I think just one," the druid answered.

"Then save it" the fighter advised. "We'll need it to use on that rift. Save it until there's no other choice."

The halfling's hands worked on the ancient lock, the only part of the door that wasn't superheated along with the rest of the room. As the locks were made of iron, she reasoned, it wouldn't do to let them melt. There was, however, a definite danger of the lockpick melting inside the lock and ruining their chances of ever getting through. The sweat dripping off her forehead irritated and clouded her eyes, and that didn't make the job any easier.

"I think I've found something," Hennet announced. He pulled out his short spear and ran it against a subtle crack in the wall, forcing open a sliding panel. Inside, two lips were carved into the stone, like a mouth partially open and about to speak. And speak it did.

"Etos hui vanots," the stone mouth said, in a high-pitched, chirpy voice, with a flatly cordial tone. Hennet had seen magic mouths like this before.

"Etos hui vanots," the magical construct repeated.

It probably wants me to give it a password, the sorcerer thought. "Uh…"

" Nai vanots," the lips said with the same, emotionless voice. Then the panel slammed shut in front of Hennet.

"Lidda," Hennet said. "I think you should work harder on that lock."

"Thanks for the advice!" Lidda shouted back. "Very helpful!"

Regdar abandoned the walls and rushed to the center of the room to comfort Sonja. The fighter took a gulp of hot air that burned him from the inside. Around the room, smoke rose from their clothes. The wool of their winter cloaks threatened to burst into open flame. Regdar felt a sudden wave of unbearable heat roll up his side from inside his robes. He realized that the water was boiling in his waterskin. It had blown off its top and now was releasing scalding steam against his naked flesh. With a yelp, he yanked it out and tossed it away.

Regdar wrapped his arms around Sonja, who wasn't weeping or making any noise, though sweat poured from her temples. She stood still, gently trembling in Regdar's strong arms as might a terrified rabbit.

The threatening black walls blazed as Lidda worked at the lock furiously, drawing on previously unknown reservoirs of strength. She felt on the verge of fainting. Hennet danced at the room's edge, trying desperately to pry open the secret panels once again. Regdar watched the pile of ashes in the corner and wondered if that was one of the earlier party and if so, whether that was the fate that awaited them as well-to be dead and beyond resurrection, consigned to ash that would never be scattered by wind or water. Sonja raised her trembling hand, ready to activate the ring of dispel in an effort to save them and in the process perhaps doom the world to eternal winter.

Regdar saw what she was doing and said, "Not yet, Sonja, hold on just a little longer."

The druid wasn't listening. Her eyes were closed in concentration.

"Sonja!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Getting no response, he grabbed her ring finger and pulled the magical ring off of it. Sonja looked at him, shocked,

"I think I have it," croaked the halfling with a parched throat. "I think…"

She cawed in triumph, deftly hopping backward as the black door to safety flew open. With lightning speed everyone jumped through it, Regdar sparing barely a moment to kick his super-heated breastplate through the door into the next room.

When they were through, the door rolled back toward the close position. Hennet thrust his short spear through the diminishing opening, leaving the heavy door open a crack when it came to a rest. Exhausted and gasping, everyone sprawled on the floor, breathing deeply of the blessedly cool air. Sonja magically filled their boiled-dry waterskins with cold water, which they sucked down desperately, saving the last to splash on their faces.

In a few minutes, heat from the adjacent room stopped rolling through the open doorway.

"I've heard of going from the frying pan into the fire," Lidda quipped, pulling herself to her feet, "but I've never done it quite like that."

Finally, feeling recovered, they looked around to see where they were. It was another room like the last, a large cube in form, but this one wasn't empty. It was almost completely filled with supplies of all kinds. Everywhere they looked, something glinted or glimmered in the magical torchlight. Suits of golden and silver armor hung on the walls, glowing magical weapons rested atop carved teak and mahogany cabinets, potions were stacked in cabinets, and pedestals supported devices of strange antiquity and unknown power.

Lidda and Hennet broke into a smile and took a few disbelieving steps forward. This was what every adventurer dreamed of discovering beyond every dungeon door: an unmolested treasure room. This was the find of a lifetime-the treasury of an ancient society, long past caring or seeking revenge, and filled to the brim with loot.

Behind them, Regdar slipped the silver dispel ring from his pocket and handed it back to Sonja. The druid took it wordlessly and slid it back onto her finger.

"We're rich," said Lidda with a disbelieving smile.

"Riches aren't what we're here for," Sonja reminded them. "We're here for the Frozen Pendant."

"And we've found it," said Regdar, pointing to a corner of the room. Amid a fallen suit of armor and a spilled pile of smashed potions lay another adventurer, dead, his corpse covered with a light layer of blue ice. Frozen on his face was a look of stark terror. Clutched in his hands was a delicate, gold necklace, and dangling from that was a lump of black ice that shimmered with unholy magic and radiated a coldness they could feel from across the room.