Escalla contributed to affairs by being violently ill. Coming as it did from an invisible source, this was no sight for gentle eyes. As vomit struck the green slime, it instantly began to discolor. Moments later, the slime had grown, absorbing the new matter with terrifying speed.
Escalla popped back into view, looking haggard as she stared down at the skeleton.
“What the… ?”
“Green slime.” Jus inspected his boots, which still seemed free of the infection. “It’s on the floor under the water. Gods only know how far it goes. Escalla, take a look.”
The faerie looked ill. A swig from a water bottle set her to rights. With a nod at Jus, the girl began hovering above the water and trying to peer below. Watching this display of inordinate, cowardly caution, Polk licked his wax marker and flipped open his chronicle scroll with a snap.
“Son, I fail to see why a hero should be concerned about a little slime.”
“That slime can eat through anything you care to touch it with. Wed be dead in minutes.” The ranger held his sword carefully away from the water as he inspected the skeleton. “He was running toward us when he fell.”
The floating bow seemed to identify the fallen man as the barons archer. How many other men had been in his party was anybody’s guess, but only one had lived to flee this far back down the corridor.
This did not bode well. Jus scratched the stubble of his chin as he stared at the dead, dissolving bones.
“He’s pointing toward us. He must have already safely crossed this slime patch on the way down the corridor.”
Hovering, the faerie cocked an eye. “So?”
“So something at the other end scared him so much that he forgot about the slime.”
“Oh…” Escalla looked a little dazed as she looked down the dark, foreboding corridor. “Maybe he was just a little shy?”
“Maybe.”
The ranger drew in a big sigh then held out a hand to Polk.
“Polk, no comments. We need the iron spikes. Twelve for you, twelve for me.”
The iron climbing pitons had loops and serrations designed for mountain climbing. Leaning against one wall, the two men lashed the spikes to the edges of their boots, pointing down. Elevated a few inches above the floor, they took a nervous breath and strode carefully past the dissolving green skeleton. The spike points grated on the floor underneath the water; Polk almost slipped, wailed, and was caught by one of the Justicar’s huge hands. The ranger hauled Polk to safety in one great surge of strength, propelling the teamster far down the corridor where he landed with a splash. Jus waded powerfully after him for a dozen feet more, then frantically began to tear away the spikes about his boots.
The spikes had dissolved almost halfway. Acid from the slime still clung to the metal and was eating it away. Polk and Jus cleared their boots and hurled the spikes away, watching them fall into the oily muck near the slime.
Polk wriggled his moustache in thought.
“Improvisation, boy. You’re learning. That’s the mark of a great hero.” The man gave another tug at his moustache. “But the spikes are gone. How will we get back?”
“Deal with it later.”
Escalla hovered above the green slime, keeping carefully away from the water.
“So this stuff eats through flesh, leather, metal… But it hasn’t gone through the stone floor. So it leaves stone alone?”
The Justicar shrugged. “Pretty much. Otherwise it would burn through to the Abyss.”
“Polk, give me one of your oil flasks.”
“Aha!” The teamster swelled with triumph. “You’ve thought of a way to burn off the slime?”
“Nope. I thought of a thousand and one uses for one of the local tricks and traps.”
Escalla seized hold of the clay oil bottle, uncorked it, and poured the oil out into the water. She then carefully collected green slime with the dissolving tip of the dead archer’s bow and dropped it into the oil bottle. She dropped a piece of waybread into the jug to keep the slime fed and happy, then carefully cleaned the spout and popped the cork back home.
“Aaand there we are.” The job done, Escalla carefully washed the bottle in the water well away from the slime. “We’ll have to keep it upright so it doesn’t eat its way through the cork. I’d hate to see what happens if we accidentally smash the jug.”
There was a moment’s pause and then the faerie passed the deadly cargo to Polk.
“Here, you carry it!”
The teamster instantly recoiled. “It’s a monster! I’ll be soiled!”
“Do I look soiled?” Escalla posed above the water, flipping out long sheets of soft blonde hair. “Hey, I’m a lovable icon of forest fun. You can trust my integrity!”
“But you’re a faerie.” Polk sniffed. “An underhanded breed.”
“Hey!” The faerie proudly waved her little parchment with the stun rune. “When you’re my size, it’s gotta be brains over brawn. Now just carry the damned slime!”
Polk gingerly accepted his deadly load. He wrapped a piece of rope about the bottleneck and carried it before him as though it might explode at any instant. With a shake of her head, Escalla turned invisible and rose to scout her way along the unknown corridor.
They came to a junction in the passage with a tunnel turning away from the mother route. Escalla peered both ways, shrugged, and continued along the main passageway. She gave a piercing whistle to summon her companions and flew erratically onward down a corridor that was still knee-deep in mire.
“Hey, guys, this way feels good, don’t you think? I mean, none of it looks lived in, but maybe that’s the idea.”
“Escalla!” Jus waded forward, holding his sword on guard. “Shhh!”
“But maybe we should be more scientific? Maybe the wizard is with the weapons? We could have tried to use magic to find the trident and stuff.” The girl’s voice echoed eerily in the gloom. “Should I have memorised a locate object spell? I mean, I learned fireball, stinking cloud, and lightning bolt. I did web and a couple of magic missiles…. Does that make me sound too combat-heavy to you?”
She approached a door that sealed the corridor. After carefully inspecting for signs of insects, tentacles, explosive runes, and poisoned needles, Escalla pressed one tall pointy ear against the wood.
“Eww! Mildew!” The girl jerked back and scrubbed at her besmirched little face. “Anyway, it’s empty, not a soul stirring, all that kind of stuff. Face it: We’ve been smart enough to let someone else pioneer the route. Anything dangerous, the archer and his pals will already have solved!” The girl motioned to the door. “J-man, do the boot thing.”
The Justicar could have tried to kick the old door down. Instead, he turned the door handle and shoved.
“The door’s ajar, dimwit.”
Escalla sniffed, the very image of offended dignity.
Jus poised his sword, then with a rush he threw open the door and stood ready to fight. Miffed at having made a little blunder, the faerie took one look into the deserted room and flew right on in.
“Come on, Polk! Time’s wasting!”
Behind her, the teamster began fussing about in his backpack, finally finding a few iron spikes at the bottom. The man knelt down in the water and began splashing away with a hammer, trying to jam a spike home underneath the door.
Escalla flew to perch atop the door.
“Um, Polk? Guy, we may be working to a slight time limit here. We don’t want the others to sneak past us with all the treasure and stuff.” Polk ignored her, and Escalla leaned closer. “Just how many spikes did you bring with you anyhow?”
“This is the last one!”
“Really?” The faerie cleared her throat politely. “Um, Polk? What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m spiking, girl! That’s what you have to do in a dungeon: spike the doors! Keeps ’em open.”
The faerie gave a malicious little smile and hovered close to Polk’s ear. “Hey Polk, why do we want the doors pegged open?”
/> “So they’re not in the way if we have to…” Suddenly catching onto the appalling implications, Polk stood up and quickly abandoned the whole idea. “Right! No more spikes for you two! Not now, not ever!”
Escalla ushered Polk into the room with a sigh. In a universe of idiots, she was the only pure and shining star. The faerie tugged her bodice straight, flicked back her hair, and then flew stylishly into her very first dungeon room.
The door instantly slammed shut behind her, locking itself with magical bolts of force.
“Damn!”
They were trapped in a room without exits. The faerie looked at the door, then at Polk. Not deigning to say a word, she went across the room to find the Justicar.
Unamused, Jus glared at the locked door. Magical force shimmered across the portal, sealing it shut. Only a golden keyhole remained uncovered, twinkling and glittering in invitation.
“Great.”
There were no other possible exits from the room. The chamber was broad and square and strangely decorated. Nine evenly spaced globes hung from the ceiling by wires. Huge and silvery, they dangled just above the ranger’s head.
Jus grumbled, looking as though he wanted to cleave something with his sword.
“Cinders, can you smell anything?”
Muck and water. The hell hound sniffed. Magic. Boring. Go now?
“We’re working on it.” Jus tried an experimental shove against the door and found his hand repelled from the portal. “Any of you find any secret doors?”
“No.” Escalla gave a shrug. “What’s a secret door look like, anyhow?”
“If I knew that, it wouldn’t be secret.” Jus hammered on the walls with the hilt of his sword, tapping carefully, high and low. He moved with an absolute thoroughness until he noticed that Polk and Escalla were merely content to watch.
Annoyed, the ranger slitted up his eyes and said, “You could help.”
Shrugging, Escalla fluttered over to one of the silver globes. “Sure!” She rapped the sphere with her fingertips. “Hey these things are glass! Want me to break one?”
“Don’t touch it!”
The justicar held up his hand to halt the girl. He waved everyone away from the globes.
“They’re obvious, so we don’t mess with them. Remember this whole place is set up as a test.” The Justicar went back to his careful search of the walls and floor. “Look for other solutions first—ones the designer didn’t think of. Escalla, take a careful look at the lock and see what you think.”
“I’m on it!”
The girl whirred busily away. Interested scholarly noises followed as she took a thorough appraisal of the lock, and then the faerie came back to the Justicar’s side. He had his gauntlets off and was kneeling in the muck probing the floor.
Jus looked up at Escalla, raised his brows, and said, “So did you look at it?”
“Yep!”
“Can you open it?”
“Nope!” Shrugging, the girl seemed to wonder why Jus looked so hurt. “Hey, I’m a sorceress not a cat burglar! What did you expect?”
The only other option seemed to be the globes. Polk walked underneath one and inspected it, his face reflected into silly shapes in the silver glass.
“Son, these here are a cryptic puzzle. That’s a classic element of dungeon design.”
“They’re a trap.” Jus shook his head and approached one sphere. “Any bets? One should have the exit key, and the others will probably explode or contain a shower of rot grubs.”
“You miss the point, son!” The teamster slapped Jus on his armored shoulder, trying to cheer him up. “Come on. A dungeon is a foe, a challenge!”
With a dire glance at Polk, the Justicar carefully touched a globe. It weighed about as much as bowl of gruel and didn’t rattle when shaken. A light held behind the globe did not shine through. Each of the globes seemed to be exactly the same. There was no way to tell what was inside without shattering one.
Escalla met her friend’s eye and gave a helpless little shrug.
“What the hell? Pick one and bust the thing!” The girl pointed out one sphere hanging in a corner. “Try this one!”
“Why that one?”
“It feels lucky!” Making a little pirouette, Escalla fluttered through the air. “Trust me. I’m a faerie.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, Jus shook his head and approached the chosen globe. He took his sword and gave it a couple of experimental swipes to loosen up his wrists, then slid the weapon back into its sheath.
“Polk, spread a groundsheet under it to catch the contents as they fall. Escalla, go invisible.” The man waited until all was ready. He motioned for Polk to go to the farthest corner of the room. “Stay there.”
The manic sounds of a happy hell hound drifted into their minds. Burn! Monster come, Cinders flame!
Jus shook his head. “You’ve only got three shots. Don’t breathe flame unless I ask for it.”
Cinders sulked, his tall ears flattening and a dissatisfied mumble echoing in everyone’s mind.
With everything ready, the Justicar moved to stand beside the chosen globe. His feet moved into a measured combat stance, and he took two deep, slow breaths.
An instant later, his sword was out of its sheath, had smashed through the globe, and was already moving in a second cut. The sphere had just begun to fly apart, black shapes still frozen inside, as the Justicar’s sword whipped through the glass a second time.
Shattered glass flew through the air, and flat black shapes suddenly screamed as they exploded from their prison. Unfolding like lethal sheets of paper, they scythed through the air toward the Justicar.
“Shadows!” Jus’ sword blurred toward one of the black shapes, but the monster simply dodged aside. “Escalla, stay away!”
Three monsters had been in the sphere. One slid to the water’s surface, already cut to ribbons. Jus ducked as another turned itself sideways, invisibly thin, and sliced at his throat.
The shadows attacked, numblingly swift, their voices screaming like children lost down a distant well. His teeth set, the Justicar swatted at black shapes with his blade, and they rippled like silk sheets as they tumbled, dipped, and streaked across the room. Like flying razors, they hissed and sliced at living flesh, swirling sideways as the black sword came whipping out to slash them.
As the Justicar hammered one shadow aside, a frightened faerie voice twittered from above.
“Jus!”
“Stay back!” His blade ringing as the shadows swirled and spun into the attack, Jus parried each razor cut that sliced toward his flesh. “They can kill you, but they can only hurt me!”
“Jus, get clear! I can shoot!”
“Stay invisible and stay there!”
A shadow ripped a line across the Justicar, but instead of slicing into his flesh, it seemed to incise a wound into his soul. Chill spread into his body. He cursed and whipped his blade in a blinding maze of cuts, and the two shadows flapped backward, tatters flying from their edges as they were sliced and punctured by the Justicar’s blade.
One shadow caught sight of Polk and flew at him with a keening scream. Jus caught the motion from the corner of his eye and whirled, his blade flashing to split the monster in two. Like a sliced bedsheet it coiled and fluttered as it fell, its voice fading as its hellish life-force leaked into the mire.
The final shadow gave a piercing, bloodcurdling scream. Turning sideways into an invisibly thin line, it streaked straight toward the Justicar, ready to shear his soul. One instant, Jus stood in the path of the charge. Escalla screamed in fright, and then suddenly Jus had pivoted aside, his blade whipping down. The lethally sharp sword slit the entire shadow in half. The monster flew past him, swerved to avoid the wall, and then suddenly fell apart. With an echoing wail of horror, the entity peeled into two pieces, its form fading as it disappeared like scraps of mist inside a wind.
With a curse, Jus sheathed his sword. Escalla popped into view, fluttering and anxious as she came down to swirl ab
out her friend.
“Hot damn, man! You are awesome with that sword!” The girl blew out a breath of relief and made a face of disapproval. “You should have let me take one. I could have helped.”
“Shadows.” Jus touched at the chill spot where the monster had cut at him. “They suck out strength. I’ve got lots, but you’ve got little. Safer to keep you out of their way.”
“You were protecting me like that?” The girl blinked at him, a little smile on her face. “That’s sweet!”
“Yeah.” Jus rubbed at the wound. “Normally it takes about an hour to heal, but here’s a trick they never teach at priest school.” The ranger took a long drink from his canteen of beer. He heaved a sigh, flexed his arm, and simply shrugged away the injury.
Polk nudged at the waters where a shadow had once lain. “You shouldn’t drink on the job, son. It’s bad form.”
“You drink.”
“I’m the chronicler. It helps my creative flow.” Polk folded up his arms. “So, have you figured out the cryptic clues? Have you solved the trap? Come on, time’s a-wasting!”
Among the shards of shattered glass, Escalla found a little key. She took it to the door and touched it to the keyhole. It passed into the lock, turned, and achieved absolutely nothing. The faerie took out the key and looked through the keyhole in indignation, seeing the empty corridor outside the room mocking at her.
“Damn it! It’s the wrong key!” She kicked at the door in spite, but magical force made her foot rebound from the wood. “What are we supposed to do now?”
They all looked up at the eight remaining globes. Clearly, they were supposed to break the globes one at a time, fighting monster after monster until they wore themselves out. With no humor for the wizard’s little games, Jus growled in ill-temper, then flashed a glance from Escalla to the door and back again, then pulled Cinders tight.
He nodded once as he stared at the door lock, then said, “Escalla, can you turn into something really, really thin”—he glanced over at the portal—“something thin enough to go through the keyhole?”
Pursing her lips, Escalla eyed the door with the air of a consummate shapechanging professional.
White Plume Mountain Page 19
