"I don't think that they can get stuck," she said out loud and then wondered if something besides her own group had heard her. How loud was too loud? "Is there any way that we can hear them before they hear us?"
Mumchance shrugged. "Maybe. They are big and pretty noisy." He placed his hand against the ground.
"Mumchance," said Ivy to her friend, "do you remember why we got into this business?"
Zuzzara answered, because the dwarf had dropped to his knees and then stretched flat on the ground, still trying to hear the approach of the destrachans. He pulled Wiggles out of his pocket and set the little dog down beside him. Wiggles looked ready to take a quick nap, her pointed chin resting on the dwarf's rump. It had been a long day for a small dog-a long day for all of them.
"We got into siegebreaking because we needed money," said Zuzzara, rubbing the bump left on her head by the shovel. "Especially after we flooded out our last rainmaking customer."
"Besides that," Ivy prompted.
"Because we are good at what we do," said Gunderal, looking like a defiant flower as she stepped up to her sister and fingered the bump on Zuzzara's head with gentle hands. "Ivy, I can hold the river back. I could twist my water-calling spell to keep these tunnels from flooding for a while longer. I'm sure of it."
"No," said Ivy very slowly, because she had just had a new idea, but she was not sure how everyone would react. "We don't want to hold the river back. We want to let the river in. Archlis was right. These tunnels are low and going lower. If we let the water in…"
"We all drown," pronounced Mumchance standing up and dusting off his knees. Wiggles was staying close by his heels, very quiet, as if the little dog sensed danger was close.
"Unless…"
"We get out first."
"But what about the destrachans?" asked Gunderal.
"We hope that they can't swim."
"But what about Kid?" Gunderal asked. "Oh, Ivy, you are not going to leave Kid behind?"
"Of course not. Everyone gets out. Everyone except Archlis. Don't much care about him, do we?"
Zuzzara giggled-one of those deep orc giggles that made people nervous. "Are we going after Archlis, Ivy?"
"That magelord is just another tower waiting to be toppled," said Ivy. "Let's bury him down here and take down the walls of Tsurlagol!" She delivered this rousing speech in a low-pitched tone to avoid attracting destrachans, but it got the same reaction as all of her rousing speeches. Everyone looked like they wanted to disagree-Mumchance even opened his mouth and then closed it-and then everyone gave a reluctant nod. If Ivy was crazy enough to think it might work, then they might be crazy enough to go along with it.
"For once, that idea actually sounds like a plan," said Mumchance finally. "One that isn't completely different from what we discussed before."
"Don't look so surprised."
"No, think about it. The tunnels may be a bit deeper than we intended to dig," said the dwarf, "but we can use them just the same. They all run toward the current city as far as I can tell, or the current city was built up on a corner of these ruins, which is more likely. We have been twisting around a lot, following that magelord, but I think we are pretty close to that southwest corner. If Gunderal could force the water toward the city, we could just wash the walls away. Or"-as Mumchance became more enthusiastic about the idea, he also became a stickler for precise details describing underhanded ways of engineering destruction-"we can at least take down that weak corner that we found earlier. The spot where you told the Thultyrl that the wall would fall down."
"That would be good," agreed Ivy as they continued to explore the current tunnel. "Make us look like we know what we are doing. That is so rare."
"I'm serious, Ivy." The dwarf stuck out his lower lip and blew a heavy breath. Ivy recognized his don't-sidetrack-me-when-I-am-thinking sigh. "Look at the cracks running through the walls," said Mumchance, pointing left and right. "I bet those shrieking beasts did that. If they hunt here often, the ground will already be weak above us as well as below. Tsurlagol could end up with a pretty lake on its west side."
"That leaves the problem of how we avoid being crushed," said Ivy. "Or drowned. Or eaten."
"You will figure something out," said Mumchance. "You always do."
"I do, don't I?" said Ivy with just a little more bounce in her step as she walked down the tunnel. "Well then, let's speed up the water coming into these tunnels, and let us hope those creatures can't float or swim."
Gunderal spread out her pale fingers and made a gesture resembling raindrops falling down. Drops of water trickled off her fingers and spattered into the dust at her feet. "I'm feeling much better," she said.
"Knew you could do it," said Zuzzara, "but don't push your magic too hard. What if you can't do what you want when you want to?"
"Sister, I do not even understand that last sentence," giggled Gunderal. A small smile brightened her delicate features. A few long ringlets had come loose from her topknot, and she looped one long strand around her finger very slowly. "Stopping a river is rather boring, but calling one! So much more fun."
"Do you think you can?" her sister asked.
Gunderal's violet eyes gleamed in a way that would be called a glare in a less beautiful woman. "You never think I can do anything."
"I am only asking."
"Zuzzara, I may not be as strong as you or as clever as Mimeri, but I can cast spells!"
"I only said…"
Gunderal stood in the shadow of her half-orc sister and stared up at her. "Well, don't, Zuzzara. Don't say another word! I know a thing or two about water magic."
"Unless you know how to kill destrachans, keep your voices down," Ivy finally intervened. "We need to think of some place that we could ambush the creatures."
"Those creatures hunt by sound more than anything else," Zuzzara said, peering through one archway into the chamber beyond.
"According to Archlis, they are blind," Ivy agreed. "And you saw the size of those ears."
"So what if we make a lot of noise and draw them into a narrow place like this," Zuzzara suggested. "Someplace where we could get above them. That might help."
They followed Zuzzara into a circular chamber with stairs running in spirals along the walls to higher openings. In the center of the room stood a small fountain with a trickle of water coming out of its cracked marble spouts. The water was very cold to the touch.
"There's our river," said Gunderal with satisfaction. "Or a branch of it at least."
"Forcing its way in through the old pipes first," said Mumchance. "The dwarves built well when they built this city, every time that they built this city."
"Strange place," said Ivy, looking around the tower of ancient Tsurlagol.
Gunderal ran up a few stairs and rested her hand against the wall. "It is some kind of watchtower, sunk by that weird earth magic that I've been feeling throughout the ruins. Remember the mosaic back in the bathhouse?"
"Odd or not, Zuzzara is right," said Mumchance. "It's a good place for a trap."
Zuzzara shrugged. "I may be ugly, but I'm not dumb."
The old joke made them all laugh a little, and then glance uneasily over their shoulders as the laughs bounced around the room.
Mumchance climbed up the stairs after Gunderal, peering here and there through the openings, swinging his lantern before him. Wiggles stopped before one doorway and let out one small sharp bark. Mumchance took a look and then called back down the stairs. "There's another tunnel. Looks like it runs straight back the way that we came, just higher up."
"Higher is good," said Ivy, watching the ancient fountain that bubbled in the center of the room.
"Now we need to attract the destrachans lower down," said Mumchance. "So the water covers them before it covers us."
"That was what I was thinking," Ivy said.
"Do you want me to use my eye?" The dwarf fingered his fake eye as if he were going to pop it out of his head. "An explosion should bring the beasts quick enough."r />
"Save that eye. We may need it later. I have a better idea," said Ivy with a wicked grin. "Everyone needs to get to higher ground first. Gunderal, go up to that platform where Mumchance is. Get as close to the exit as you can; you may need to run quickly."
Gunderal climbed to the ledge where Mumchance stood.
"Maybe you should call from inside that tunnel," Ivy suggested. The sound carried perfectly up to Gunderal on the ledge, but she shook her head.
"I need to see the water, Ivy, just to keep my spell anchored in this room."
"All right. Zuzzara, do you have that rope we found earlier?"
"Wound around my waist," the half-orc affirmed. "Do you need it?"
"Tie one end to my belt and get ready to haul me up when I yell. Now I am going to wait for the beasts to get here." Ivy cut off their anticipated arguments. "No, I stay on the floor here. I'm the bait. I'm going to keep them down here, and Gunderal is going to get that river to rise faster, so it's over their heads before they know what is happening."
"But what about you?" worried Zuzzara.
"I've got a few tricks," said Ivy, straightening the red leather belt around her waist so she could easily reach the silver buckle. "And if my tricks don't work, you are going to haul me up like a fish on line. As fast as you can."
"All right," said Zuzzara.
"And how are you going to get the beasts to come to you?" queried Mumchance.
"I am going to sing!"
"Oh, Ivy." Gunderal shuddered, and even Mumchance winced once they realized what she was intending to do. Both of them were fairly musical. Zuzzara, who had inherited her orc mother's taste for music (which consisted of exactly no opinion at all), just bobbed her head in a quick nod of agreement and began unwinding the rope around her waist. She started to thread one end through Ivy's belt.
"Don't tie the rope to that skinny red belt," Ivy instructed her. "Around my weapons belt. I don't want to pull the other one off." Zuzzara tied the knot where Ivy had pointed.
"Ivy, are you sure about this?" Gunderal asked, leaning perilously out so she could see her friend.
"Absolutely. Kid and I found a little extra magic back in the tunnels that is going to help." Ivy pulled off her gloves and secured them in her weapons belt. She placed her bare fingers on the winged serpent clasp of the magic belt that she had retrieved from the floating corpse. If it worked as it had before, she should be able to float right out of the creatures' reach.
"Wait one moment," Gunderal said, leaving the ledge and coming down the stairs with a quick patter of little feet across the stone steps. "Does anyone have a candle?"
"I don't need a candle," Ivy said, who had a lit torch in one hand and her sword in the other.
"But I do. Zuzzara, light this for me." Gunderal pulled one of the candles that they had looted from the bugbear out of her robes and handed it to her sister.
After Zuzzara had lit the candle, Gunderal held her hand beneath its drips until her fingertip was covered with wax. She reached out, touched Ivy, and said, "That should do."
"What's that for?" Ivy asked.
"We know the destrachans hunt by sound, but how can we know if they have a sense of smell? Perhaps not, but still, I think you will be safer without any smell."
"I have heard of wizards removing odor from smelly beasts and dead bodies, but come on, Gunderal, I don't stink that bad!" Ivy objected.
"Most beasts can pick up any scent, no matter how small, and now you have none at all."
Ivy grinned. "Great! I'll never have to bathe again!"
Gunderal said sadly, "It's a weak spell, Ivy. It will only last a short while."
Ivy shrugged. "I plan to finish those monsters quickly."
"Well, if you're actually going to sing, that should drive them mad," said Mumchance. The dwarf scooped up Wiggles and put the little dog in his pocket. He tugged on Gunderal's hand. "Come on, girl, you need to call that river."
As they climbed higher on the stairs, Zuzzara followed them, paying out rope as she went.
"Oh, how I am going to sing!" Ivy said to her friends' retreating backs. "I am going to sing every red-roof ballad that I've learned this summer. If those beasts are as sensitive to sound as Archlis said, they should come rushing to devour me before I get to the first chorus!"
Above Ivy, Gunderal began chanting, her call to the river echoing around the room The smell of water filled the air. Ivy waited until the river began to bubble faster through the broken spouts of the fountain, filling the basin and frothing over her boots. Then she stood with elbows out and fists on her waist, tilted her head back, took a deep breath, and started to sing.
"Procampur men are deadly dull, but Procampur girls are fancy loves." Ivy had never quite figured out all the more obscure slang in the chorus-a rousing ditty about ladies who switched their roof tiles to suit their loves-but Sanval had blanched the first time that he had heard her sing it and muttered something about "duels are being fought for lesser insults." Now Ivy pitched her voice loud and strong, to send the echoes clashing through the carved rock of the chamber. The sound reverberated even better than singing at the top of her lungs in the bathhouse back at the farm (a favorite trick for keeping the place all to herself and avoiding certain people fussing about whether or not she was rinsing her hair out properly).
Gunderal continued to call upon the river to rise. She stood on the ledge above Ivy, her hands held out. Thin glittering strands of light bounced around the chamber, shimmering across her blue-black cloud of hair. Her violet eyes shone in her delicate face. As her gentle genasi mother had taught her so long ago, Gunderal sang the song of water. The lightning scent of the storm became interwoven with the cool, sweet smell of rain falling from the sky to the dusty earth below, the darker tang of an old river carrying that same rain through the heart of a mountain, and-not too far away-the pull of the sharp salt scent of the sea. She sang about how the sea's rich perfume could lure the river out of its old meandering ways and send it hunting, like an elderly blundering hound trailing a fox's scent, into the tunnels and ruins of ancient Tsurlagol.
The water poured faster out of the fountain, washing against the tops of Ivy's boots, and the bard's tone-deaf daughter continued to shout-sing her way through the many verses of the Procampur song, describing the lovers preferred under each roof. Ivy had sung all the way to the third verse when the floor of the chamber began to shake.
Parts of the wall that she was facing began to dissolve into dust as a raggedy-eared, nasty-looking, blind head came pushing through the newly formed hole, a head that was nothing more than an enormous open circle of mouth. There were no teeth, no eyes, and mere breathing slits where the nose should be, with no sort of bone structure to its face that could be bashed with a well-aimed blow. The only large feature on the head, besides the wide-open maw, were the ears. They were shaped a bit like winter-dead tree leaves, folding into three sections with deep indentations and sharp points all around their edges. Each ear twitched wildly in opposite directions.
A second head shoved into the hole above the first one, and a third popped up through a newly formed crack in the floor.
The first beast clawed at its own ears as Ivy continued to bellow. The echoes in the chamber made it sound like more than a dozen singers were caterwauling in different corners of the room, all completely out of tune, and a beat or two behind each other. The creatures butted and banged against each other as they squeezed into the room.
The destrachans had found her, and they seemed killing mad about her singing, as Mumchance had predicted.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As the destrachans came shrieking into the room, the river continued to rise. Each creature was anyone's worst nightmare, almost as large as the hen house at the farm. Worse still were the weird reverberating screams being given by the monsters-howls so ugly that each cry echoed in Ivy's head, making her back teeth ache.
The lead monster moved in a crouch, its back legs bent, and its front legs reaching out. Mu
scles rippled from its jaw to its humped back and down past the powerful haunches to its heavy pointed tail. Its thick hide looked waterproof, and Ivy wondered again if destrachans could swim. Or float. That would mess up her plans rather badly. The creature's talons curved out from its feet like blades. That it was blind in no way lessened its powers, and there was no way at all of knowing how sensitive it was to movement. Certainly it was aware of her singing, turning its blind head from side to side as it tried to pinpoint where she was standing. Luckily, its fellows kept bumping into it, and it would break off from its hunting to swipe a talon or tail at the other two.
Obviously, Ivy thought, there was some disagreement going on about who would get to eat her first.
Above her, Gunderal's chanting was adding to the confusion. Her light, high song of the river overlaid Ivy's deeper rough voice booming out her ribald love song. With all that sound swirling through the room and the destrachans' own cries adding to the confusion, the monsters tucked down their flapped ears, flat against their heads, rather like a man might squeeze his eyelids closed against a too-bright light. The beasts fanned out, wildly swinging their talons in the space around Ivy and screeching in a way that made her eardrums ache. Bits of stone shattered as the destrachans' oscillating cries nearly deafened Ivy and the watchers on the stairs above.
At least Archlis had been truthful about the creatures' senses. It seemed that they were primarily limited to using their hearing to locate her. If the breathing slits gave them an ability to smell, Gunderal's spell should hide her from that betrayal of her location. Now, if only the river would rise faster. The water was barely up to the small of the creatures' backs.
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