by R. E. Fisher
“Sense what?” Winston asked quietly in response. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “I thought I saw something, though, when we were running back to help you. Not sure what it was, but it was against the wall up ahead a bit. I was just checking to see if it was still around or if I had imagined it,” Winston replied as he pointed.
“I sense something is in here, tracking us. We should tell the rest—lest we all get caught unaware.”
“Can’t hurt. I’ll let the bear and Sterling know to keep an eye on the shadows.”
“Did you get a sense of it at all?” Helor asked the diminutive figure.
“No; I just saw it. I was too busy rushing back like we all were.”
“I did. It’s ancient and black,” Helor stated with a degree of apprehension. “I thought it was the golem I sensed, but it wasn’t. I know now that it’s dead. The entity that I felt earlier is still lurking around here.”
“Ghost, demon, what?” Winston asked.
“I don’t know,” Helor said.
“Me neither. I don’t run across stuff like this in taverns,” Winston quipped, trying to lighten the mood a bit as he walked toward Sterling and Dumas.
Winston filled them in on what he had seen and what Helor had sensed. Dumas and Sterling decided it was best that Hearthammer stay within the torchlight. They figured they’d rather chance something seeing them because of the torches rather than lose a comrade in the blackness. The remainder of the group was informed as well. A few of the dwarves felt better knowing that their own intuition hadn’t betrayed them, for a few of them had felt the presence as well.
Laz and Ollie looked at one another, confused at the news. “What? We have ghosts to deal with now?” Ollie asked Laz.
“Aren’t you happy we found you now?” Laz answered, grinning at him and pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. “It could have just been you four against that thing back there.”
“No. Seriously? A ghost is stalking us? ‘Cause that’s what I heard.”
“It could also be a demon; you forgot that part.”
Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Ollie stated, “I’ve got to get out of this fucking madhouse!”
“Just keep telling yourself that, brother,” Laz whispered as the column of men resumed their march toward the area in which they hoped a dragon would be. If the directions the four had been given by the magistrate were accurate and matched what Lightbeard knew about the tunnels, then the chances were good.
Hearthammer moved out ahead of the group once again, walking within the torchlight this time as they moved through the tunnels. The silence continued grating on everyone’s nerves as the day wore on. They came across another adjoining hidden tunnel, and they waited within the main tunnel while Lightbeard and Threefingers raided the hidden cache of supplies. Upon instruction from Sterling, the two gathered additional torches and water from it, but only what they felt that they were going to need. They kept the remaining supplies for their return march.
Lightbeard advised that this was the last access tunnel before arriving at Forge Outpost, which was about another full day’s journey. According to the instructions provided by the magistrate, their tracker had followed the thief to the old trade tunnel below Forge Outpost and to a collapsed tunnel wall below it, but hadn’t gone any deeper into the darkness.
Sterling noticed that although his men appeared relatively fresh, he knew that they would need to be well rested to face a dragon. But how could they do that without alerting the dragon to their presence? He determined that they would rest within the access tunnel that night, with each of the hidden doors secured. The doors wouldn’t keep out that ghost or demon, or whatever it was, but they would keep away most of the other threats that they could still face. He led them all into the access tunnel, where they bedded down and ate their cold rations. He then assigned watches to several of the dwarves. He decided that they would depart after their short rest. Still, they would have to figure out a strategy to find and combat the beast while keeping the element of surprise.
After most of the troupe had settled off to sleep, Dumas and Sterling slipped away from the group, speaking to one another in hushed tones about the subject of their quest.
“I’m wondering if this is perhaps a fool’s errand,” Sterling stated.
“Why would you think that?” the bear asked.
“I thought about the instruction the four of them were given, and it got me to wondering. They were told that they had one of the city trackers follow the dragon to the steech, yet how would that be possible? If that thief was a dragon, and it had managed to leave the city undetected, why would it walk all the way to the outpost when it would be faster and easier to fly here in its natural form?”
“You’re wondering if there’s a dragon?”
“No. If you’ve met one before, you know that we’re not far from one now. It’s that small odor we’ve smelled for the last few hours, especially since settling in here for the night. I’m not well- versed in dragon lore, but long ago, a band of us stumbled upon a young black while investigating a cavern. It smelled of cinnamon, too. I wasn’t sure, but once we settled in this tunnel, it became clear. That spice smell collected in here and sat undisturbed, but out there it was being carried away on the air.”
“So, you think that magistrate lied to get them out here just to face the beast?”
“I think someone stumbled upon the dragon and lived to tell about it. The story then got back to him and his greed got the better of him. Where there’s a dragon, there’s coin. I think he came up with a plan to just send prisoners to try to kill it until one or more of them would succeed, and then he’d swoop in and claim whatever treasures it might have. Who would miss them if they failed?”
“If that’s true, he’s already figured out what he’s going to do when these four return: kill them and be done with them,” the bear stated, looking toward the four sleeping figures.
“I think so, too. That’s why I brought it up to you. What do we do to help them?”
“I think I can come up with something. Trust me,” the bear said, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Okay; what do we do about the dragon? Let’s face it: if we march in there with torches blazing, it will not bode well for us,” Sterling replied.
“I have an idea about that, too. Wake up Helor and let’s ask him if he’s up for a challenge.”
Chapter 23
“Let any who has wronged thee suffer tenfold from his choice!”
(W.Ey., 2.17 - Book of Waters, Tenets of Eyamel, Chapter 2, Verse 17)
Dmitri managed to steal the tools necessary to carve the oars from the timbers they had salvaged from the dock. Once he and Niloy had completed them, they placed them within the gunwales of the boat along with short leather strips to lash them to the oarlocks and prevent them from sliding out. It was still a few hours before dawn, but too late in the morning for them to leave. It wouldn’t be enough time for them to gain a large enough head start before they would be missed. They decided to load all their supplies onto the boat and get it prepared for their departure, so that when they decided to go, all would be ready. They completed one final inventory; both felt that they had prepared in every way possible, with the exception of a sail or any real traveling packs or gear. Knowing they would be at risk in the elements, they decided to bring along any blankets or skins that they could find as well.
The human and the shelfling made their way up the six hundred and forty-four steps to the main passageway, back to their respective rooms. They understood that they would meet at the dock when the moons were at their fullest the next evening. The concept of time had escaped most of these stupid people, Dmitri had thought on numerous occasions during his ordeal. What I wouldn’t give to get my watch back, he thought as he let himself into his room, the hidden door squealing from its recent excessive use. Wincing at the sound, he rushed to undress and collapse into his bed, hoping no one had heard it. He lay there for only a few minutes before he
drifted off to sleep, his breath nearing a snore as he did.
He hadn’t seen the shadowed figure in his room, having never lit a candle before falling into his bed.
Machillis had begun suspecting that Dmitri was up to something when the blacksmith’s tools began disappearing. The assassin had watched him as he had stolen away with a couple minor woodworking tools and leather from the blacksmith. He hadn’t found them when he had searched the prisoner’s room, nor were they in the stables, where he spent most of his time. He had been unaware of the hidden door in the chamber, but he knew that he was going to have to inform Eod of it. He wondered if the mage already knew about the tunnels. Curious as to where they led, he contemplated searching them but concluded that the squeal that the door had made on Dmitri’s entrance wasn’t worth the risk, so he slipped out of the room through the main door. It then dawned on him that Niloy had been acting peculiar as well. Deciding to check on him also, he headed toward the dungeon.
In a twist of fate, Niloy had quietly followed Dmitri back to his room to practice his stalking skills so he would be prepared when the opportunity arose to kill him. He knew that wouldn’t be possible until after the man had rowed them free of the keep. The shelfling was simply unable to row that boat across the lake by himself, so he still needed him. But he needed the practice, too.
Arriving at the mirrored door, he waited for the human to fall asleep. After listening carefully and hearing his light snoring, he had opened the door just a crack when he spied a figure stepping out of the shadows inside Dmitri’s room. The shelfling froze, not opening the door any further and knowing that it would squeal if not opened just so. In that brief moment, he knew that the shadow he had glimpsed was Machillis. He was also aware that on rare occasions, the twins separated. He knew that Machakos was with Daelock, whom Eod had sent out on some secret task. He saw the room brighten a bit as the other door opened, then he watched as the light faded as Machillis closed it. Niloy shut the hidden door and ran back to his own room in the dungeons. Upon his arrival, he slipped though the hidden door that was located there; having planned ahead, he pulled the mop from the bucket that he had placed there earlier. He kicked his blanket into the corner of the cell and began mopping. He heard someone enter the dungeon, but he continued mopping the cell, acting as if he were unaware. The shelfling picked up the bucket after he finished mopping and walked out into the corridor, acting frightened by the “sudden” appearance of the assassin, dropping the bucket and spilling the foul water over the half-elf’s boots.
Machillis reached out, striking the shelfling across the face and knocking him to the ground into the dirty water he had “spilled.”
“Please forgive me, my lord,” Niloy uttered convincingly, lying in the water and cowering in fear of the murderous half-elf.
Machillis walked over to the cell the small man had just mopped, and seeing even in the darkness that the floor was still wet, he turned and left the dungeon. Niloy grinned to himself as he watched the door close behind the elf. Rising to his feet and taking up the mop he had dropped, he spread the spilled water across the hall, finishing his impromptu cleaning.
So, the elf is on to something. We must leave tomorrow night, Niloy thought as he entered the cell he called home. At least I have a blanket, he thought as he curled up within it, even if it is wet. He wondered if he should tell Dmitri about the situation, but thought better of it. It would be better if he didn’t; he couldn’t trust that outworlder to not act suspicious. He realized that they had an advantage over the assassin elf: Machillis didn’t know that they knew he suspected something.
The next morning both Niloy and Dmitri went about their duties.
Niloy, doing what passed for the caring of Eod’s prisoners, ran all about the keep as he usually did during the day. Taking rations to the dungeon, hauling clean water down, and bringing down fresh straw for the floors.
Dmitri cleaned stables and halfheartedly completed his weapons training with a teacher who knew little compared to the missing Daelock. The day simply crawled by for both, slowed by their anticipation and anxiousness to leave. Finally, evening arrived and Dmitri went back to his room, where he bathed and ate the meal that was provided; Niloy was left to his own devices in the dark, damp dungeon.
As the hour grew late and the time for their departure neared, Niloy rolled up his blanket as tightly as he could and entered the passageways. He made his way into the darkness wearing his newly reacquired dagger firmly on his hip.
Dmitri looked out the window of his room and determined that it was close enough to the specified time for him to leave. He blew out the only remaining candle in his room, having taken and rolled all of them that he could find into his bedroll. He made his way carefully across the dark room, opened the hidden door, and stepped into the passageway, on his way to freedom.
Machillis had taken up a position where he could watch the human’s room through his open window. While he watched, he still thought the shelfling was aiding him somehow—even after going into the dungeon and surprising the imp, studying his reaction to being struck. There had been no defiance in his eyes or his demeanor. The shelfling appeared to have been surprised and frightened, but he was a snake of a being! His evaluation of the dungeon keeper’s behavior the previous night was interrupted as he noticed Dmitri look out his window, then up at the moons. He watched as he extinguished the light in his room.
Following Eod’s orders to determine what Dmitri was doing, he rushed to Dmitri’s room from his perch behind the forge and opened the door. Looking in, he saw that the bed was bare of sheets and blanket, so he entered the room. Moving like a cat in pursuit of its prey, he glided to the hidden door he was now aware of, opened it, and went through. He didn’t pause, as he didn’t think Dmitri would stop to see if anyone had followed. He knew that the prisoner suspected nothing. He took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness and began moving down the dark passage, searching for signs of Dmitri. He saw the faint echoes of his cooling footprints on the stone and began following them. Machillis moved as fast as he could while trying to gain a view of Dmitri to see what he was carrying and why—and still he moved with absolute silence. His footsteps and armor made no sound. He saw that Dmitri’s footprints had turned, so he followed them down the corridor, now able to hear the human as he moved. After he had followed him for a bit, it appeared that he and his footsteps had disappeared behind a wall. Once he got closer, he saw that there was a door in the wall just past a barrel that sat in the passageway. He stepped past the barrel and opened the door, looking cautiously at the stairs leading down, searching for Dmitri’s fading footprints. He saw that Dmitri had taken some stairs, and he decided to follow him down.
Earlier, Niloy had heard shuffling feet and the door opening. He assumed that it was Dmitri who had just entered the stairway due to the complete lack of skill the individual had displayed. Staying still and anticipating that Machillis wouldn’t be far behind, he remained hidden within the barrel. It reeked of salt and fish, but so be it. If Machillis was after them for some reason, he figured that the human might be kept alive, but he knew that the half-elf would kill him in a heartbeat. Because of the assassin’s quick visit to the dungeon the night before to check on the shelfling, Niloy concluded that he needed to see what Machillis knew. During the course of his duties, throughout the day, he had managed to stalk the assassin without his knowing. There did seem to be an advantage to being a prisoner for so long. Those who imprisoned you eventually forgot. Machillis, back in his own element, had failed to pay heed to Niloy—a grand mistake for someone in that profession. Niloy had watched as Machillis met with Eod, knowing he would be unable to hear what was being said. However, good assassins knew how to read lips; Niloy was of the best, so he had done just that.
He had interpreted the exchange between the two as he swept the outer halls, keeping his eyes on them as he did so. Niloy had learned that he had been excluded from the perceived escape, though the half-elf suspected tha
t he may be involved, although he had no proof for Eod. The mage instructed the assassin to find the weakness in the keep, and after stopping the Russian from escaping, he was to investigate the passages he had found. Afterward, Niloy determined that he would have to kill the assassin before he could thwart their plans of escape. He paused in his thoughts as he heard the door open a second time, then hearing nothing further, he thought, that must be Machillis!
He realized that he would get but one chance as he climbed out of the barrel quietly, pulling the door closed that Machillis had left open, and moving down the stairs to stalk his prey. In the darkness, Niloy smiled and thought, A prelude of what’s to come for that other idiot.
Machillis eased himself down the stairs slowly. Afraid of alerting Dmitri, he placed one foot at a time gently onto each step, unsure if the seemingly rotted wood was unsafe or noisy. This slowed him down and caused him to be somewhat off balance—especially when he felt the wooden step giving too much or starting to groan under his weight, forcing him to change his footing. Once he reached the open stairs that led down onto the dock, Machillis could see the dim figure of Dmitri down below him, standing next to a boat. More than forty feet above the dock, he paused, not having realized that the lake ran under the keep as well. It looked like what he envisioned his afterlife to be: dark and wondrous. Little did he realize how soon he would know.
He paused as he heard Dmitri call Niloy’s name loudly. Was the shelfling in on it? Had he been so fooled by the imp?
He never sensed Niloy’s presence until it was too late. After managing to close the distance in silence, the shelfling leapt from several steps above, striking Machillis in the back. Niloy knocked him forward and over the short railing that had been designed for those of dwarven height.
Niloy himself landed on the stairs mostly as he had planned, but slightly off balance. Smiling at his success, he turned quickly to watch as the assassin crashed onto the rock floor below with a wet, sickening thud.
