“No … there’s something different about this image.” Shiera stepped up to the painting. On the surface, it looked like the rest. A cadaverous priest clad much the same way as the rest. Like many, he held something in his hands.
Shiera fought back a smile. Unlike the others, what this priest wielded was not a weapon, but rather a book.
It could not be a mistake. She stepped up to the image. Behind her, she could hear Daryus shifting about, the fighter clearly not pleased she stood so near the painting.
Grigor, on the other hand, appeared to trust that Shiera would not get herself killed. Not certain if she appreciated his confidence in her, she nonetheless reached out and put her fingers on the book.
The area where she stood gave way.
She was sliding down a passage. She grabbed for support, but found none. For a terrifying instant, she considered that she might have misjudged and dropped herself into some abyss, and then she landed hard on her feet.
Shiera expected to find herself in some deep catacomb, but instead discovered she had ended up in some sort of large chamber open to the cavern air on her left. Beyond, another part of Uhl-Adanar beckoned, but she ignored the ancient glories calling to her and turned to face the wall behind. She could not believe she had simply been tossed out of the tomb. There was a purpose to this odd passage, one she felt certain she would be able to find.
She had by not forgotten Daryus, but Shiera had no means by which to rescue him, not yet. Only one possible hope occurred to her at this moment: if she did actually find the tomb, she could use the information to trade for both her life and that of the former crusader. Of course, not for a moment would Shiera trust any word the witch gave; not only would she have to find the Reaper’s Eye, but she would also have to think of some way she could force Grigor to live up to any promises.
Thinking of the witch, she glanced again at the shut passage. Grigor hadn’t immediately followed her, but that could change at any moment.
It occurred to her that perhaps the passage down which she had slid had been designed in case of a dire emergency. That emergency must also include reaching the tomb as quickly as possible, or else why go through all this trouble? The tomb would have been the builders’ focus. Best to assume everything had been done with protecting it in mind.
She looked back over her shoulder, but saw no sign of him. Still, she was certain that Toy was nearby. The familiar was clearly a treacherous creature on par with the witch, but Shiera believed she was clever enough to make use of Toy in turn.
Feeling the wall, Shiera sought out another secret door. While certainly always happy to make use of her skills, she had to admit she was getting frustrated with the ancients’ propensity for making any path to the tomb convoluted. Shiera could appreciate their attempt to protect it, but time was not on her side at the moment.
Once more, she abruptly looked over her shoulder.
This time, there was someone behind her.
Raffan.
“So. I thought that was you hunting me.” The young man’s stylish clothes were now unkempt and dusty, his well-groomed hair disheveled. There was a bruise on his chin. “But I’ll be damned if I can figure out how you got in front of me. Good thing I heard your grunt. You were careless.”
Shiera had no idea what Raffan was talking about, but what mattered was his immediate intent. In his left hand, he wielded a small, single-hand crossbow identical to the one Shiera had lost.
“Have to say, I did admire your choice in weapons,” Raffan added. “Had to keep this hidden while I played the buffoon for you at the damned rat’s request.”
“It was a lie from the start, then?”
“Oh, my employer was real, the old fool. Would-be Pathfinder, you know. I was biding my time for when I could put him out of the way, but then Toy popped up and offered a proposition too enticing to wait for. Of course, he and I always knew that we’d never stay true to the bargain between us. It was just a matter of who betrayed who first.”
Shiera tried to think about what to do against Raffan. In the meantime, she worked to keep him talking. “And who was first?”
He smiled. “Oh, I was.”
Despite his confident answer, Shiera doubted the truth of it. Still, Shiera was not about to contradict a man holding a weapon on her.
“What does Toy want out of all this?” she asked. “Just vengeance against the witch?”
“You know, that’s a good question, but one I don’t need answered in order to get what I want.” Raffan pointed the crossbow at her chest. “You were looking for a door or something, I believe. That would be of use right now. Get on with it.”
“You don’t want to go inside, Raffan. It’s dangerous in there. There are traps, most of them magic—”
“Not afraid of that, Tristane.” He held up what looked to her like an amulet or large coin. “Courtesy of the rat. Been very handy against monsters and magic, although its magic is about used up, I think.”
For some reason, Shiera had no doubt the artifact would have the image of the wolf on it. She also believed it was every bit as powerful as he said it was. Still, as she turned back to the wall, Shiera wondered if the corridors might not hold a few more mundane traps against which Raffan’s magic item would be no aid. She only needed the right one to help her remove the problem of Raffan.
A startled grunt from her companion made her spin around. To Shiera’s astonishment, Raffan struggled with a muscular woman clad in a familiar uniform. She gripped the wrist of the hand wielding the crossbow while trying to cut off his air using her other forearm.
But Raffan turned out to be hardier than Shiera could have imagined. Slowly, he managed to turn the crossbow toward his assailant.
Shiera jumped at him. She grabbed the arm just below the other woman’s hand, forcing Raffan to turn the crossbow away.
Eyes wide in a combination of anger and fear, he reached with his free hand into a pouch and quickly removed a small device. Shiera spotted a small needle sticking out of it. Suspecting what it might do, she abandoned her effort on the raised arm and grabbed Raffan’s other wrist. Gritting her teeth, Shiera turned his hand toward his side.
She heard a slight click. Raffan grunted. As Shiera looked at him again, she saw that fear had entirely replaced anger.
He dropped the crossbow, then the dart device. Frowning, Shiera stepped back.
“No! Not that one—” Raffan began, his body shaking. “It was meant for—” His brow wrinkled as he clearly struggled to think. “Meant for him—”
His eyes rolled up, leaving only the whites showing. With a sigh, Raffan fell back into the armored woman.
“What happened to him?” the newcomer demanded as she let Raffan slide to the ground. “He’s growing cold.”
“He was trying to fire some dart! I turned it toward him just as he managed.”
The brawny woman leaned over Raffan. “He’s quite dead.” She picked up the dart device and sniffed the area from which the tiny missile had come. “This is a poison I know. A very fast one.”
As the other woman investigated, Shiera quietly plucked up Raffan’s crossbow. It was a much sleeker, better crafted one than her own, but still capable of using the bolts she had.
The armored figure rose. She looked at Shiera, seeming not to care at all that Shiera had the crossbow.
“I am Captain Harricka Morn,” the other woman finally announced to her. “You know Daryus Gaunt, don’t you?”
It had taken but a single glance for Shiera to recognize just who and what the newcomer was. A crusader from the Order of the Flaming Lance. Despite being aware of Daryus’s checkered past in that regard, Shiera nevertheless bluntly replied, “Yes, I know him. Have you come to help him?”
“I have come to help him face justice. Where is he?” The officer looked around. “And where is this? Some witchery seized me from the Worldwound and deposited me not far away from this building. I saw this one from a distance and recognized him from Kenabres. I followed
him with the idea of seeing what he knew—and then found him assaulting you. I made a decision to interfere.”
“How very noble of you.” Shiera exhaled in exasperation. Her mind raced. She suspected she knew how Harricka had ended up here. Toy had been nearby when she had activated the mechanism that had first drawn Daryus and Raffan. The familiar had a strong mind. It might have been he who had brought her here, no doubt for another of his multitude of plans. The captain would be especially useful if Toy needed to do something about Daryus.
She kept her expression neutral as she added, “So you know, we’re still in the Worldwound. This is a temple-city belonging to people who—”
Her new companion brusquely waved her to silence. “I am not a scholar, Pathfinder. Spare me your lectures. ‘The Worldwound’ is sufficient for my needs. Now, where is Daryus Gaunt?”
“Inside. He’s a captive of a witch named Grigor Dolch.”
“Grigor Dolch.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. For the first time, she reached down to touch the hilt of the sword sheathed at her side. She stared past Shiera, clearly thinking something over. “Grigor Dolch. That name has come up at least twice in the order, both times associated with heinous crimes and dark arts.”
“He has Daryus under his power. I think there’s a spell involved.”
“Daryus can do nothing?”
“No.”
Harricka Morn rubbed her chin. “If what you say is true, it might be possible to slay the witch while still keeping Daryus momentarily under the spell … at least long enough for me to bind him for the trip back to Kenabres.”
Shiera couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “He may not live that long!”
The crusader looked concerned. “He must! He has evaded justice too long!”
Shiera had thought she had found in this woman an ally, but now saw that Harricka Morn only represented yet another threat, at least to Daryus. That was something Shiera did not need. She backed away from the crusader as she tried to decide what to do—
But where Shiera expected to have a wall behind her, there was empty space.
Harricka Morn reached for her. “Look out!”
Too late. Shiera backed into a darkened space, then stumbled over something small. As she dropped, Shiera saw the wall shut before just before Harricka could reach her.
“Are you all right? Are you well?”
Toy. Of course. Shiera could not see the weasel, but knew he was near. She also knew that once more he had purposely gotten under her feet, the other time being at the dais in the temple. She was very tempted to use the crossbow on the familiar, but held off.
“Where are you?” she finally asked.
A brief, crimson glow about a foot off the ground and to her left caught her attention. That demon eye, winking open and shut.
Jumping up, she headed for where she had seen the glow. As she did, she heard the scampering of tiny feet.
“Where are you going?” Shiera quietly called.
“Keep moving! A door ahead!”
Keeping the crossbow ready, Shiera continued to follow. Then, just as she was about to say something again, a dim blue light stirred.
Stretching a hand before her, Shiera found the beginning of a corridor. She also found a straight panel on the side that she realized had to be the door to which Toy had referred.
As she stepped out, the corridor became more illuminated. Shiera took some comfort from her familiarity with the blue stones. She looked around, also pleased to discover there were no paintings of mummified priests.
That left only Toy.
She pointed the crossbow at him. He had the gall to look offended.
“You’ve tripped me twice,” Shiera muttered. “Maybe I can appreciate this second time, but I never much cared for the first. You put me in Dolch’s grip. For that alone, I should mount you on the nearest wall.”
Toy’s ears flattened. “So very sorry! It was necessary! Grigor Dolch would have killed you outright if I had not made you fall!”
Shiera had her doubts about that, and let the fact that she kept the crossbow aimed at Toy relay them. The weasel kept his ears flattened. He looked left and right, then suddenly his ears popped up.
“There is a clue, I think! A clue to the tomb!”
Despite her suspicions, Shiera lowered the weapon slightly. “Show me … and quick. I’m getting twitchy.”
“This way! Not far! I swear!”
He trotted on ahead. Shiera rushed after, trying to keep her gaze simultaneously on her quarry and her surroundings. Toy turned a corner, then ran some distance down the new corridor. As he did, the blue stones flashed on, giving Shiera a fairly good glimpse of what lay ahead.
And so it did not entirely surprise her that she once more confronted a wall-sized carving of the wolf.
However, it did stun her to for once confront an image where the beast looked forward. Looked forward and verified that, like the wolf statues that had protected her, it did indeed have only one eye.
“I know this is of great import, but the key eludes me, Pathfinder,” Toy all but purred.
“You found this, did you? While I was being attacked by guardians of this place? Thanks for your overriding concern for my safety.”
“Oh, I am so sorry about that, Pathfinder! Had I known the danger you were in, I would have done what little I could!” The familiar made a circle in front of the image. “But surely this makes some amends for all that! Think of the glory, the honor! Think of all those who took what you deserved, how the accolades they gained are pale in comparison to those you will receive.”
Crossbow still ready, Shiera stepped past the familiar and started work on the wall. “The key is in the eye, I think,” she muttered. “Or do you have some other knowledge you’ve failed to impart? Anything at all?”
Toy said nothing. Shiera glanced back at the familiar … only to discover Toy nowhere to be found.
“Not again,” she growled. “I should really know better by now.”
She immediately returned all of her attention to the image. She suspected that Toy’s abrupt departure meant she had very little time to do her work.
She slid her fingers around the eye, searching. With grim satisfaction, she located the hidden knob and pressed it.
The eye swung open … and then the wall itself began to do the same. Shiera had to jump back or risk getting trapped as the huge stone door swung enough to the side to admit entrance.
She stepped inside.
Instantly, blue stones on the opposing walls lit up. A chamber ending in a high dais akin to the one in the temple materialized from the dark.
And atop that dais, floating without support above a pedestal, was a glittering stone of smoky hue at least the size of Shiera’s hand. Although rounded at the bottom, it rose at the top to a sharp point.
Deep in the center, a dark, crimson spot made it look as if the crystal stared back at her. There could be no mistaking what it was.
The Reaper’s Eye beckoned.
Shiera took one very careful step closer.
There was a click.
Both walls began changing.
* * *
Grigor impatiently tapped the tip of the staff on the spot he had last seen the woman touch, yet the floor beneath him remained persistently solid.
“Not what you planned?” his prisoner asked nonchalantly.
Grigor spun on Daryus. “You live because the Pathfinder values your life, and I value her abilities. That does not mean my patience is infinite.”
He intended to punctuate his words with a touch of pain, but before he could summon the spell, he saw Daryus’s gaze shift past him. Grigor could think of only two things that should have been sufficient to steal his captive’s attention from him. One was more of the mummified priests.
The other was Toy.
The witch turned and was rewarded with the fleeting glimpse of a tail just vanishing around a corner.
“Follow!” Grigor commanded, rushing after Toy.
He had every confidence that Daryus would obey. The fighter had no choice unless he wanted to die for no good reason.
As Grigor rounded the corner, he caught sight of Toy disappearing into the wall on the left. A slight grating sound accompanied the familiar’s departure.
However, this time Grigor could just see the edges of the hidden door as it shut. As Daryus joined him, he ordered, “Pull that open.”
Daryus eyed the door. After a moment, he stuck his fingers on the edge and pulled.
The stone door opened with a deep groan.
Grigor pointed with the staff. “Inside.”
With a shrug, Daryus turned and entered the darkened passage. The blue stones that Grigor had expected started to illuminate their path.
Far ahead, other stones were just fading into darkness again. Toy wasn’t that far ahead.
Grigor followed, aware that Toy no doubt had some trick in mind. That was why the fighter went first. Grigor was happy to sacrifice Daryus if it meant catching the familiar.
From up ahead came a pained squeal. Grigor smiled at the thought of Toy either injured or dead. Still, as they neared the area where the noise had originated, the witch made Daryus slow. “The weasel is cunning,” he warned. “Keep an eye out for hidden danger.”
“I always do, especially with Toy.”
Daryus slowly entered. Grigor stepped behind the larger man.
Something lay sprawled at the edge of the illumination. As they neared, the stones revealed Toy’s body.
“Is he dead?” Grigor asked with mounting eagerness.
Leaning close, Daryus touched the weasel’s throat. “No. Something struck him … I think.” He looked past Toy. “There’s another crack here, like a door, but it’s hard to tell.”
“Pick the damned thing up, but hold him tightly.” While Grigor very much desired Toy’s demise, this near to the Reaper’s Eye, he wanted to make certain the weasel had not arranged any more surprises that might prevent the witch from seizing the artifact. Only with the Reaper’s Eye could Grigor achieve his real goal: freeing the demon Tzadn from his tomb.
He will reward me with such power. I will be a hundred times stronger than I ever was …
Pathfinder Tales--Reaper's Eye Page 24
