She chose the narrowest passage, a tiny thing only a few feet wide. The floating disk blurred over a forest of shrieker fungi, the huge toadstools wailing like banshees as the party passed, awakening monstrous shapes burrowing in the muck nearby. The companions left the cacophony far behind as they wound through twists and turns, ducking beneath low ceilings that almost skinned Cinders off the Justicar’s back. They dodged right and left through a maze of caves, muddling their trail.
Quite suddenly, the disk spell dissipated. Hanging in midair and still shooting forward, Jus and Henry blinked then went crashing to the ground. Escalla heard the noise and doubled back, hovering above the two men and managing to look immensely pleased.
“Hoopy! I never had one last that long before! We must have come four miles!”
Motion sick, slashed, half choked and dangerously annoyed, Jus arose, straightened Cinders on his head, and dusted himself off.
“Polk?”
From inside the portable hole, a muffled voice replied, “Yes, son! What is it?”
“Get out of there!”
“I’m just sorting a few things!” The hole unfolded. Escalla threw it away in alarm, and Polk’s head emerged. “I’m writing us a schedule! We need organization and planning. That’s the backbone of any good adventure!”
“Right.” Jus fetched Escalla, inspected her, then sank a healing spell into her ribs to clear up her bruises and scrapes. “Have you got the map?”
“Lich took it,” Polk replied.
He shrugged, then clambered out of the unfolded hole. Inside the pit, a scatter of pearls, gems, bent copper coins, and old keys glittered in the gloomy light. The teamster heaved out his chronicles, slung them safely over his back, then took a sharp look at Escalla’s face.
“You all right, girl?”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you know you’ve got some freckles down your front?”
Escalla hovered, regarding Polk through lofty eyes. “Polk, a woman without freckles is like a night without stars!” The tiny faerie posed sweetly, them smacked the human up the side of his head. “Show’s over! We need to hole up for a while. Let’s find a stream, get some water, then get moving!”
A side cavern gave access to a freezing cold, clear little river, a stream haunted by eerie eyeless fish and transparent shrimp. Helping herself to a cup of water, Escalla shook her head and dabbed at her countless bruises, cuts, and scrapes.
“Damn! Why didn’t my stoneskin work? That was a perfectly good spell!”
Sitting beside her and carefully filling his water bottle, Jus shot the girl a droll glance. “Did the beholder ever look at you?”
“Oh. Oh yeah.” Crestfallen, Escalla helped herself to a mug of water. “I can’t be expected to remember everything.” She sipped her water, made a face, then held out her little cup for Polk to sweeten from his magic whiskey bottle. “Well, we can’t go to the drow without all of us having stoneskin put on us. We’ll get creamed!”
“How long would it take to conjure the spells?”
“Ah, well, I’ll have to rest overnight.” The girl thoughtfully ticked off each stage upon her fingers. “Probably enchant you and me tomorrow, rest another night, then do Polk and Henry the next day.”
The Justicar corked his water bottle and shrugged. “The kuo-toa will be following us right now.”
“Point taken.” The girl stood and tossed her empty frost wand inside. She settled her scroll tube across her back and polished off the little lich staff. “I guess we’d better go.”
The party gathered themselves. Henry stood peering into his new crossbow, which seemed to fit about a dozen crossbow bolts into a magazine at the top—a problem, since he now only had twelve quarrels left in his quiver. The boy examined the whole mechanism in puzzlement.
Escalla perched on his shoulder and said, “Guess it’s a type of haste spell on the thing. Hoopy.” The faerie patted Henry on the head. “Don’t lose it!”
Polk bumbled past, his book open as he began scribbling his own version of the fight. He licked the nib of his pen and looked thoughtful, failing to see the glowing caterpillar that had taken up residence on his hat.
“Come on. We’re behind schedule.” The man shot a look at Escalla, then scribbled on his page. “How do you spell ‘svelte hellion’?”
Escalla gave a warning snarl. “Polk, if you’re planning on writing about my cleavage, you can forget it.”
When the party found a suitable campsite and stopped to rest, the only one unhappy with affairs was Benelux. The sword sulked in silence, but no one paid her any attention. The swords ornaments had been made from gold, with an eye for decoration rather than function. Her gold pommel was now gone, and her elaborate golden crossguard was battered and scarred. She finally made a petulant noise and spoke up as Jus laid her out on the ground.
Well? Have you a repair spell? Are you fixing me? I’m in ruins! I cannot be seen in public like this!
“We’re fixing you.” Jus sat with the sword over his knees, using an old pair of pliers from his pouch to unfix the weapon’s broken handle. The blade gleamed, its tang white and perfect.
Exposed, Benelux gave a little screech of shock. Sir, I’m naked! Have you no sense of shame?
“Sorry.” Jus polished the weapon on a piece of black drow cloak. “Just wait a minute.”
Have you the means to fix me?
“Definitely.”
Escalla came tripping innocently over from the portable hole. “We can fix you. Just close your eyes or whatever, and it’ll be a surprise!”
I insist upon fittings suitable to my high station. The sword gave a sniff. I have appearances to keep.
“Oh boy, have I got a fashion look for you!” The girl held the hilt of Jus’ old skull pommeled sword hidden behind her back. “We’ve got the perfect thing right here!”
Somewhat mollified, Benelux gave a sniff. Will I look dignified?
“It’ll be great!” Escalla gave a shrug as innocent as the dawn. “Trust me. I’m a faerie!”
* * *
In the underdark, time never seemed to pass. The water and the cold, the echoes and the darkness, all blended into a never ending daze. Sleeping and waking came and went unregulated by night and day. The party camped at need on shelves of rock or hid in dripping caves.
Jus and Henry awoke from their latest sleep to find that Escalla had gone.
Her beaver skins lay where she had left them, but her scroll case and staff were missing. Kicking Polk awake, the men arose, packed the bags, and sped into the main tunnel. Several minutes of frantic searching revealed nothing but empty spaces until Jus spied a trail of hardtack crumbs.
In a passageway beside the main tunnel, Escalla sat happily upon a toadstool, fanning her little wings. Surrounding her was a ring of giant ants, each insect fully two feet long, armored and armed with formidable stings. Escalla twined antennae with the leader, laughed, and apparently told a joke that the ants appreciated. She patted them on their shells as the creatures went their way, giving a piece of spider jerky to each one as a parting gift. As the last ants scuttled off, the girl looked around to see Jus, Polk, and Henry gazing at her with hooded, unamused eyes.
Wondering at their expressions, Escalla gave a shrug. “So I like bugs!” The girl waved her hands. “Like my magic bees weren’t a clue?”
Jus walked toward the girl, his tread heavy, and gave a tired sigh. “We’ve been looking for you for ten minutes.”
“I was just down here. I gassed out a nest of gremlins for the ants, and they came to say thank you.” Escalla handed a tiny leg bone to Cinders. “Here you go, pooch! Compliments of the chef.”
Mmm! The hell hound mumbled the bone in his mouth. Good gremlin!
Jus sat down beside the girl, unsuccessfully pretending that he had not been worried sick. “Don’t run off alone.”
“It was ants, man! Ants are hoopy!” The girl paused. “And bees.”
“Escalla.”
“What?” The
girl collected herself. “Anyway, the ants said there’s some stuff down this corridor to watch out for. Magic using two-leggers have blocked the next junction. Guess it must be drow.”
“They don’t know for sure?”
Raising one brow, the faerie looked as Jus as though he were insane. “Hey! They catch ’em and eat ’em. They don’t interrogate the beggars!”
Jus shook his head. “Nice.”
“They’re ants, man!” Escalla gave a shrug. “Didn’t you ever have an ant farm when you were a kid?”
“Why would I want to grow ants?”
“For fun!”
Jus simply looked at her. “Escalla, oversized carnivorous insects are not fun. Oversized carnivorous insects are alarming.”
“Oh?” Scratching her head, Escalla puzzled over the strange ways of the world. “Eerie!”
Laying the subject aside for now, Escalla produced the indicator needle from her pouch. As always, the needle pointed northwest. This time, however, a faint quiver in the needle made it tickle in Escalla’s hand. The Justicar watched the motion for a moment and then nodded in slow satisfaction.
“Stationary target. Ten-mile range.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Peering through a cave mouth into the main passageway beyond, Jus led the way into the gloom. “Let’s get moving.”
Polk followed the Justicar, carefully recording the route. Henry brought up the rear, his crossbow at the ready. Escalla looked over her companions in satisfaction, dusted a speck of lichen from Cinders’ freshly brushed fur, then flew down to salute the skull-pommeled sword at Jus’ hip.
“How’s life on this beautiful subterranean morning?”
I am not talking to you. The sword was in a most offended huff. You tricked me.
“What trick?” Escalla opened her hands, admiring the sword. The wolf-skull pommel, the stark black grips… it all looked wonderfully grim. “It’s dire, it’s dark, it’s minimalist. It’s a statement! This is a sword for striking fear into… into… into folk who need to be fear strucken!” The faerie fluttered along beside the sword. “This is your look. I swear!”
The sword remained indignantly silent.
Unperturbed, Escalla shrugged and flew ahead to scout for danger. As the party moved on, Benelux snorted then muttered in ill temper. Justicar? I am beginning to feel your companion the faerie is perhaps a tad tarnished.
“Yup.” The big man never once took his eyes away from scanning the gloom. “Tarnished in some ways and surprisingly pure in others.”
Polk snickered, and from the corridor ahead, Escalla’s angry voice drifted back. “I heard that!”
Cinders gave a brilliant grin. Funny!
* * *
Half a mile beyond the ants, the tunnel opened out into a great echoing cavern filled with ghastly phosphorescent light. A fortified wall ran across the cave, pierced by a gate studded with bronze spikes. Guards patrolled the wall above, and more guards stood at the gate. They were drow—ebony skinned, silver haired, and sinister.
Jus lay flat in cover with Henry at his side, both carefully scanning the distant scene. Behind them, Escalla watched master and student at their work.
“A guard post has at least four times as many soldiers as you can see.” Jus carefully pointed out the hidden spy holes in the distant wall. “There’s probably thirty drow soldiers with commanders, a priest, and a powerful sorcerer as back-up.”
Trying to count the drow, Henry bit his lip. “How do we kill them all?”
“No point.” Jus shrugged. “Escalla, what have we got spell wise? You had some scrolls?”
“Yeah. All earth ones. Stone to flesh, flesh to stone, dig, pass wall. That kind of thing.” The faerie patted the scroll case slung across her back. “I can make a hole through the wall, but we’d still be seen.”
Behind Jus, Benelux made an irritated little noise and spoke to Polk. The drow city is nearby, and that means there’s work to do. The sword wriggled unhappily in its sheath. We can’t fight stone walls. I do wish they’d just find a way to sneak past.
“They’d never consider it! No, it’ll be a frontal attack, blades swinging—courage against all odds!” Polk gave a self important puff of his chest. “These people are adventurers. They’re the slayers of Keraptis, conquerors of White Plume Mountain, masters of the underdark!”
Escalla appeared, peeking over Polk’s shoulder as he spoke. “Polk, have you got those gee-gaws we found on the drow guard post back before the trogs? You know, those spider amulets?”
“Yes! Yes I do!” Polk had proudly organized the portable hole’s storage space and had inventoried every single item. “Six medallions, black, spider images on the reverse!”
“Hoopy!” Escalla held out her hand. “Pass ’em over! I’m gonna talk our way past these guards.”
Polk and Benelux gave an almost identical squawk—“Talk?”—but had no choice in the matter.
The faerie led the way into the middle of the cavern. Polk hung at the rear, kicking toadstools. Escalla flew straight up to the drow, tipped them a salute, and presented them with one of the black medallions. Her other hand was behind her back, readying a spell.
A drow passed a detection spell over the girl, seeking to discern whether she was a secret agent of purity and goodness. The spell inevitably came up blank. The drow consulted one another, made a note in a record book, then opened up the gates to let the party through.
Walking past the guards, Polk shot a sidewise look at the dark elves and then glared at the other adventurers.
“That’s it?” the teamster whispered hoarsely. “We’re just walkin’ though?”
“Yep!” Escalla tied the spider medallion about her neck. Her suspicions were growing richer. “And the drow were amazingly unsurprised to see a faerie pass them by. How about that?”
“We’re just leaving then?”
“Polk, there are waaay more drow in the world that we have time to bump off! Now if you want to get to the drow city, just shut up and march.”
* * *
The long tunnels were joined now by other paths. A reeking drow merchant caravan plodded past, guarded by warriors and trailing a swarm of flies. Cinders growled as he passed the drow, and Jus firmly kept the hell hound’s snout pointing toward the walls.
Dark elves glared as the party passed. Escalla nodded and waved in response, her grin staying even as she sweated in fright.
“Oooh, we are going to get so killed!” The drow caravan had an armed escort of a dozen trolls—massive green creatures that dragged their knuckles as they walked. Escalla gave them a tinkling little wave. “I’m gonna kick the arse of that Seelie Court when we get home.”
Jus kept a quiet eye on the disappearing drow. He walked slowly and carefully, one hand resting upon Benelux, his eyes spearing every shadow. Above his head, Cinders’ red eyes gleamed as they searched into the dark.
The tunnels were now a well traveled road with the marks of thousands of marching, hopping, or dragging feet. Walls grew farther apart, the glowing fungi seemed deliberately tended, and nightmarish streaks of phosphorescent minerals added their pulsing light. The miles went slowly past, and then quite suddenly the tunnel walls simply disappeared.
Standing in a great, gloomy silence, Escalla, the Justicar, Polk, Cinders, and Private Henry gazed upon the vault of the drow.
It was a vast, empty space in which echoes simply died. A cliff wall soared into unknown distances above, dwarfing the adventurers below. A roof arched upward, disappearing into the distance a thousand yards above, the ceiling’s arc shown by nebulous sprays and swirls of colors stolen from a madman’s dreams.
The caverns stretched for untold miles. Overhead, a great bloated node of minerals stole a lurid glow across the scene. Light the color of blood seeped across the rocks, making each formation shimmer with sickly colors all its own. There were pale blues and acid yellows. Clouds of blue spores drifted from titanic mushrooms that loomed into the sky.
Half
hidden in the eerie hush, noises drifted in the gloom: distant night creatures gave screams and cries or wept like children and sighed awful promises. There was no wind. The air never stirred, and the false stars upon the ceiling were dead and cold.
The light made all shapes flat and lifeless and turned familiar colors into startling new hues. Escalla hovered, staring at the hideous kingdom, and her bared skin shone a cadaverous lavender-blue. The Justicar turned to look at her and slowly raised a smile.
“Lavender?” Jus seemed amused. “Heh.”
“Lavender!” Recoiling in panic, Escalla almost expired in shame. She was utterly appalled as she looked at her own usually milk-white flesh. “Lavender! Aww man! What sort of style credibility is lavender?” Escalla whirled, trying to see her rear.
The cave gave an impression of vast, terrifying space, yet the light was dim enough to make vision fail to see more than a few hundred yards. A path of crushed crystal ran out of the tunnel. Overhung with stinking toadstools in which gibbering little creatures lurked, the path shone a horrible violet-blue. Jus stepped cautiously onto the crystals, felt them crunch like bird skulls underfoot, then led the way forward into the emptiness.
The huge, dark figure of the Justicar seemed utterly indestructible. Having hesitated at the threshold, Escalla and Private Henry moved instantly onward in the Justicar’s wake. Simply being near him seemed protection against the horrors of the unseen. Standing and writing in his book of chronicles, Polk finished a paragraph with satisfaction, looked up to find that he was standing alone, and ran after the other explorers as fast as he could.
A tower loomed above the path—a savage shape framed by impaled corpses that were gnawed and worried by jabbering creatures of the dark. Lit by stars that were not stars, the carnivorous beasts tore strips of flesh from corpses and cackled as they ate.
The magic sword at Jus’ side stirred softly in its scabbard. Undead.
“I see them.” Jus kept his voice low. “We’re too near the tower to risk killing them.”
Descent into the Depths of the Earth Page 25
