“Take her with the utmost expediency.”
Two pitborn stepped from behind the witch. Weapons drawn, they separated, coming at her from opposing sides.
Shiera reloaded, then fired. The pitborn at whom she aimed easily dodged the bolt.
“Where is the damned weasel?” the witch called as his servants converged on her. “I know he’s in here somewhere. I can feel his vile little presence!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Shiera caught a glimpse of fur vanishing amid the pews. While she hardly trusted Toy, at the moment the familiar seemed hardly as much a threat as his former master.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t we instead have a conversation about our goals? You want to find the tomb. I want to find the tomb. I can direct the way just as I—”
Grigor spun the staff around once, then tapped the floor with one end. A brief flash of azure energy accompanied the tap. “There’s no time for this. Take her now!”
The pitborn charged.
Shiera threw aside the crossbow and drew her sword. The first pitborn to reach her found to his surprise that a student of letters could also be a student of the blade. Even Venture-Captain Gwinn had his skills with the sword, although Shiera knew he had not practiced them for a long time. She, on the other hand, had continued her own practice until just before embarking on the expedition.
The pitborn retreated under the unexpected onslaught. Shiera doubted that her skills were enough to take on two opponents for very long, but that was not her intention. She knew there had to be another exit somewhere behind her. All she needed was a moment away from her attackers and she would be able to slip away. While Grigor did appear to be fairly powerful, he seemed to keep most of his power ready to protect himself. That seemed to match with what Toy had said and worked now with what Shiera planned.
She lunged at the second pitborn, then retreated. Shiera counted on the fact that the witch still wanted her alive. The pitborn mercenaries would have to overcome their own instinct to slay, causing them to hesitate. That multiplied her chances of escape.
Then, without warning, she stumbled over something just behind her feet. She landed hard on her back.
One of the pitborn fell upon her immediately, twisting the sword from her grasp. Shiera struggled in vain against his armored weight. The horned mercenary grinned wide, displaying a set of very sharp teeth. She spat in his face.
Before anything else could happen, strong hands pulled the pitborn from her. The other demonspawn growled at his eager comrade, then both cowed as a shadow spread over them.
“If you’ve injured her…” the witch muttered.
“No, Master! No, I’ve not!” whined the pitborn who had fallen on her. “I swear!”
“Pull her to her feet.”
The two demonspawn obeyed. Using the moment, Shiera kicked one of them hard in the shin. The pitborn swore.
Grigor chuckled. “Strong of spirit! Excellent!”
She turned to him with the intention of spitting in his face, too, then froze as she beheld the witch’s countenance close up.
Grigor was decaying.
What had appeared a youthful, bearded man with unsettling skin was instead clearly a being much older than Shiera had first imagined. Worse, as she looked the witch in the eyes, she saw that even those were not what they seemed, but instead looked like stones or some clever constructs that could actually turn as Grigor desired.
“Yes, I have had some … difficulties,” Grigor remarked casually. “You are going to help me overcome those difficulties once and for all. If you do, I will let you live. Do you understand?”
Without meaning to, her gaze drifted to the gaps in his skin.
The witch pushed her chin up, forcing her to once more meet the false eyes. “I said, do you understand?”
“Yes … yes.”
“Better. You would do best not to make me repeat myself.” The witch turned from her. “Now, where do you imagine the tomb would be located? Take your time, really.”
Aware that he meant just the opposite, Shiera thought hard. She knew Daryus was outside somewhere, which meant that at the very least she had to stall. At some point, he was certain to come looking for her … or so she hoped.
“The other end of the temple-city,” Shiera finally answered.
His back still to her, Grigor asked, “And what brings you to that conclusion? I’m intrigued.”
Shiera improvised. “This is surely the main temple. If you take into account that the wolf image generally looks to the left for a reason, then I think this is the point where the image is indicating it wants us to look for the tomb. However, that makes me think the tomb is the opposite direction. It fits with what I’ve seen of the builders’ thinking. They often show things as the reverse of what they mean.” The last was not true, but Shiera hoped she sounded believable.
Grigor raised an eyebrow. “And why not the other way, here in the heart of their temple-city? Why wouldn’t the tomb be to the left, just as it shows? Perhaps behind this building, in an underground chamber.”
That was what Shiera actually suspected, but she stuck to her story. “That would make sense, if not for the fact that they seem to have been doing their best to confuse searchers. You of all people should appreciate that.”
The witch turned back to her. His eyes glittered. “I see … you may have something there.”
“It’ll take us a bit to reach the other end. If you want to search here first—”
In response, Grigor snapped his fingers. Despite the gloves, the sound echoed in the ancient temple.
One pitborn secured her arms. Grigor, the staff tucked under his arm, strode toward the entrance. Without a word, his servants dragged Shiera along.
As they headed through the pews, she tried to spy Toy. Although she did not see the weasel, she knew he had to be near.
The small head popped up briefly. Shiera’s guards, focused on their master, did not see the familiar. Only Shiera did.
Toy winked at her. She suspected that the wink was to reassure her, to give her hope that somehow Toy would effect her escape. Perhaps the wink might have had that result at one point, but not since her capture and subsequent realization.
For it had been Toy over whom she had tripped.
* * *
Not for a second did Grigor grow complacent merely because he finally had the Pathfinder guiding him to the tomb. Toy was near, so very near. The witch thought about retrieving the eye again, but knew that now the familiar would be on guard. That suited him just fine, anyway. If Toy followed now, he would be doing just as Grigor desired.
Once they were outside of the temple, Grigor had Shiera brought up in front next to him. As the pitborn released her, the witch touched the upper tip of the staff against the hollow of her throat.
The tip flared bright. With a grunt, Shiera grabbed at her throat. The pitborn reacted to the sudden movement, but Grigor waved them off.
“Consider your next moves very carefully, Pathfinder. Disobeying me will now have … consequences.” The witch did not bother to explain what those consequences were—but that was the point. He assumed Shiera had the imagination to come up with an appropriate punishment. In truth, Grigor hadn’t even cast anything, only awakened the magic in the staff. A simple ruse, yet a clever one.
“There was no need to do that,” she responded without fear.
“We shall see. Get on with it.”
Shiera nodded slightly, then moved on. Grigor followed, the two pitborn anxiously bringing up the rear.
Grigor glanced left and right as they journeyed along. He did not do so out of any admiration for what the builders had left, as glorious as most would have found Uhl-Adanar. The only thing that Grigor studied with interest was the sign of the wolf, which marked certain areas along their path. Grigor’s avarice grew as the trek stretched on. He suspected that each of the buildings marked by the symbol held something of magical value, and made a note of the ones that look
ed most intriguing.
“There’s no need to concern yourself with those places,” Shiera remarked unexpectedly.
“Why? Did you search one? What did you find?”
“I tried to get inside. I failed. I tried to see through those black windows and failed there, too. Whatever they hid in there, they protected it well.”
“Wait.” Grigor knew she might be trying to distract him from his goal, but still … “Watch her.”
The pitborn flanked the woman. Grigor stalked up to the nearest building. He glanced up at the wolf symbol, then at the door.
Turning the staff horizontal, he touched the door with the tip. The wood glowed bright red.
A sharp, cracking sound shook the area. Next to him, Shiera belatedly covered her ears. As the noise echoed through the ancient temple-city, the door shimmered.
Nothing else happened.
“Hmmph.” The witch tried again, with the same lack of results.
“I did warn you,” Shiera called, once the second echo subsided. “Please don’t try that again.”
Grigor didn’t bother to respond. He shifted from the door to the peculiar black window. Without preamble, he hefted the staff and used it like a hammer.
Where glass should have easily shattered, the substance covering the window proved resilient. Grigor felt the force of the blow reverberate throughout his body, yet the window remained inviolate.
Grigor’s frown deepened. He touched the window, which felt cool, but otherwise unremarkable. Squinting, he tried to see inside. There was something in there …
A dry, nearly fleshless face peered back at him.
Despite himself, Grigor gasped and stumbled back.
“What did you see?”
The witch scowled as he turned on Shiera.
“Nothing,” he finally responded. “Nothing. A simple trick of the light.”
In contrast to her earlier, somewhat flippant attitude, Shiera now eyed her captor with honest, almost urgent, curiosity.
Grigor considered for a moment longer, then said, “I saw my face, only as in death.”
A slight tic briefly affected her mouth. Grigor glared, well aware of how he already looked.
To her credit, she let the slight tic be the only sign of her thoughts concerning Grigor’s monstrous appearance. Peering at the window, Shiera muttered, “Not your face, I’d say. Something similar happened to me back at the fountain, only I could see my own face reflected next to the dead one. This place isn’t as empty as it seems.”
At this declaration, the two pitborn tightened their grips on their weapons. As for Grigor, he waited for something more from the woman. However, after several seconds of silence, he grew impatient. “So. Nothing else happened to you after that?”
“Nothing, but I—”
That was enough for Grigor. “Then we move on. I will not be kept from my destiny!”
He waved for the pitborn to push her on. Shiera easily dodged their touch before turning of her own accord and continuing the trek as if she were the one in command.
Grigor took one last look back at the sealed structure. No ghoulish face peered out through the black window, yet he couldn’t help feeling that something watched him from within.
Grigor abruptly laughed at his own fears. What does it matter who watches? Soon, very soon, I’ll have so much power that I’ll fear nothing! Nothing!
With an arrogant wave of the staff, he turned and followed Shiera.
* * *
While it had been true that Shiera had initially wanted to slow her captor down in the hopes that Daryus might help her escape, she had also been curious as to what Grigor had seen. Having noticed nothing during her attempt at one of the windows, it intrigued her that Grigor had been confronted by something akin to what had looked over her shoulder when she had sought a drink of water.
What does it mean, though? Why these mummified faces? Are they meant as a sign?
Whatever the unsettling results of Grigor’s inspection of the building, it had succeeded in causing a delay. She hoped that by slowing their journey she had given Daryus a chance to catch up to them again.
That Toy followed did not give her any comfort. Although she had only just learned of the weasel’s ability to speak, Shiera had heard enough of the familiar’s words and soothing tone to not trust the creature any more than she did his former master. Shiera had no doubt that Toy would sacrifice her life just as quickly if it meant achieving his goals.
The far edge of the temple-city beckoned. Shiera silently swore. She was taking a big risk. Grigor had been absolutely correct when he had come to the conclusion that the tomb would be found behind the great temple, not all the way across Uhl-Adanar, as she had sworn.
Shiera had led the witch on a wild goose chase … and she suspected it would not take him much longer to realize he had been tricked.
She surreptitiously eyed her surroundings. There were two smaller temple structures, one on each side of her, plus a taller, plainer building whose purpose she had yet to figure out, but that reminded her of part of an old roofed amphitheater she had helped excavate during her time with Amadan Gwinn.
Shiera fought back a smile. If it were anything akin to the ancient amphitheater from the previous expedition, it would offer her any number of passages and chambers she could use to trick the witch. That would in turn buy her time while she either puzzled out an escape on her own or managed to flee with Daryus’s aid. The spell binding her throat concerned her, but there was nothing she could do about that. Obeying the witch would no doubt result in death anyway. If it came down to it, she’d rather go out on her own terms.
“There!” she called out, pointed with exaggerated determination at the edifice. “That should be the entrance.”
“Plain but dominating,” Grigor Dolch remarked. “Seems reasonable. We go through the main entrance?”
“Of course. Any hidden traps will only go off once we’re well inside and can’t escape. Brilliant strategy.”
Grigor cocked his head, then said to the two pitborn, “You pair first.”
She stared at him, wondering if her sarcasm had been lost. Had this been the actual tomb structure, going through the front entrance instead of searching for some hidden side door would have surely made sense only to someone planning suicide. Yet, Grigor intended to do just that. She had hoped to mislead him with a long hunt for the presumed hidden door, but now she had to think of other options, especially when her captor realized she had been lying.
Daryus, if you’re near, I hope you’ve got something in mind, Shiera thought as the pitborn moved forward. Of course, she had no intention of leaving things to him. If it came to the point where she could rescue herself, she would do just that … or die trying.
The towering, rectangular entrance gave way to an equally vast corridor inside. Once more, Shiera was reminded of the other structure that had proven to be an amphitheater. If matters kept on as they did, she would have to choose a chamber in which to steer her captors before they understood that she had made fools of them.
A slight hissing sound caught her attention.
Shiera froze. “No—”
The foremost of the two pitborn glanced at his feet, where the floor beneath his right one had sunk in an inch.
A green cloud swept over the first pitborn. Only Shiera’s expert gaze enabled her to see that it erupted from underneath the stone that had receded into the floor.
The pitborn engulfed by the cloud screamed. If he hoped that help would come, he was sorely mistaken, for even his comrade backed away rather than potentially suffer the same fate.
The stricken demonspawn tried to turn to them, but even as he did, his armor began to melt.
No, not just his armor, Shiera saw. His flesh and even his bones quickly sloughed off along with the melting metal. In seconds, the pitborn became a horrific, dripping mound that managed one more muffled cry before the body literally collapsed in on itself. Even then, the melting continued, until quickly th
ere was little left but a grotesque puddle.
Shiera felt the tip of Grigor’s staff at the back of her neck. “Next time, I expect you to spot the trap first. Understand?”
She only nodded, eyes transfixed on what had once been a savage, armored warrior. The acidic cloud had done its work swiftly and thoroughly.
The acidic cloud that had been part of a trap that should not have existed in the first place.
Shiera realized she had outsmarted herself. She had not led her captor astray … instead she had led him directly to the tomb after all.
24
THE GUARDIANS
Daryus had abandoned the unconscious horse with regret, but knew he had to get back to Shiera as soon as possible. Despite both lingering stiffness and his own sturdy garments, he had managed to cover a fair distance in short order.
And then he had all but stumbled over Shiera … and her unsavory companions.
It had taken every effort to avoid being seen. Daryus had been forced to throw himself behind one of the ancient buildings, landing hard in the process.
Daryus had paid the two pitborn no mind, focusing instead on Shiera and the bearded figure with her. Here, at last, must be Grigor Dolch, the witch whom Toy had served. The witch looked like a strange cross between a young man of noble means and some macabre half-dead creature. Daryus also paid special attention to the staff, which Toy had mentioned was a source of great magic.
Shiera had not appeared bound, but Daryus knew that with witches and other wielders of magic, mundane things like ropes or chains were often unnecessary. He had watched the group vanish from view, his original intention to follow from a safe distance until he could calculate a plan. However, that had changed when he had realized they were already being followed.
Toy had trotted after Shiera and her captors, head high as he constantly sniffed the air. Daryus had kept himself planted against one wall, hoping Toy could neither see nor smell him.
The party had veered toward the entrance to a large edifice that, despite its rather plain exterior, Daryus would have preferred to remain far away from. First Shiera, Dolch, and the pitborn had entered, and Toy had trailed roughly a minute after. Only then had Daryus started out into the open.
Pathfinder Tales--Reaper's Eye Page 22
