by R. E. Fisher
The sounds of the assassin’s body striking stone startled Dmitri, even with the dim light of the candle he was carrying. He tried to peer past the light of the flame into the darkness, looking for the cause of the sound, when he heard Niloy whistling as he came down the stairs and walked onto the landing. He went over to the body, and Dmitri followed him. They both looked at the crumpled body that lay facedown on the cold, damp stone, blood seeping from his mouth and ears, one leg folded underneath his chest at an awkward angle. Dmitri prodded the body once with his foot.
“Well, there’s no going back now,” Niloy pointed out to Dmitri.
“How did he find out?” he asked the shelfling.
“He was following you. Not sure why, though. I saw him watching you as you came out of the door behind the mirror.”
“Did you have to kill him?” Dmitri asked, missing his chance to connect the part about why Niloy had also been waiting for him when he left his room.
“What? You going to miss him?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure his fucking brother is!” he replied.
“Feel free to stay around and see what happens. I’m leaving,” the shelfling informed him as he started for the boat.
Dmitri turned to follow him when the shelfling stopped and pointed at Machillis. “Take all of his stuff; you’ll need it. Put on his armor. I’d wear it, but it wouldn’t fit.”
After having been tortured for months in numerous ways by the man, Dmitri felt no sorrow for him. So, after setting his candle on the ground to ensure that he could see what he was doing, he stripped Machillis of his armor. He wasn’t sure if it would fit, as both he and his brother were both a bit smaller; but even if it didn’t fit well, it was better than the clothes he was currently wearing. He began donning the armor, and to his surprise, it fit perfectly—even the boots and gloves. He tossed his old clothes under the stairs and began to drag the body under there as well.
“What the hell are you doing? No one’s going to stumble across him, you fool!” Niloy shouted as he climbed aboard the boat.
Dmitri paused, realizing that this was the first time he had seen anyone killed since arriving. Old habits seem to die hard, he thought. As he let go of the body, he noticed the jewelry that the assassin wore, glimmering in the pale candlelight. Yanking them from the corpse, he put them on his own fingers and ears, since the armor had no pockets. He secured the set of daggers around his waist, with a blade on each of his hips. Dmitri donned all the equipment that the assassin had worn without even the slightest sense of morbidity that most people would have if faced with having to wear a dead man’s clothes and belongings. He turned and rushed toward the boat, pausing to pick up the blankets and candles he had dropped when the body had slammed into the stone, surprising him. Stepping into the boat, he tossed them into the wheelhouse. He set one of the oars into its oarlock and lashed it down, doing the same for the other side.
While Dmitri was doing that, Niloy opened a barrel and grabbed three torches, then re-secured the lid. He lit the torches and placed them into the sconces that were still intact, scattering them about the boat; they illuminated the area surrounding the small craft brightly. Going into the wheelhouse, he pulled the maps from the inside of his shaggy rags, spreading them out on top of the small cabinet to begin studying them.
He looked up in irritation at Dmitri, waiting for him to move the boat from the dock. Dmitri grinned as he pushed the bow of the boat away from the dock and sat down on the thwart. He began working the oars to turn the boat around, pointing it toward what he hoped would be his freedom.
Neither of them had noticed that during all their preparations, Dmitri hadn’t made any noise as he worked—ever since he’d donned Machillis’s armor.
Dmitri was tired and sore from rowing through the night, but knowing that they would be missed, he kept going. Now it was about staying ahead of anyone sent after them. Knowing that Niloy would be unable to row the boat, he continued until they managed to hit the far shore of the underground lake. According to Niloy, the map indicated that there was a passage leading to the lake surrounding the keep nearby. They had noticed a bit of a sandy shoreline, but the walls of the cave appeared to have collapsed, blocking their exit, so they pulled the boat onto the small shore. Dmitri climbed out of the boat and stretched his muscles, unsure what kind of passage they would find. They had started out below the level of the lake and hadn’t come across any waterway rushing down into it. The map had to be wrong, or so old as to be useless, Dmitri thought. He watched as Niloy held a torch above his head and looked at the map, turning and trying to orient himself to it. Dmitri pulled the boat far enough up onto the soft sand to keep it from drifting away, then sat down on the small, dim beach. He lay on his back, stretching all of his muscles, knowing he was going to have to begin rowing again as soon as Niloy figured out how to get them out of there. Exhausted after having been awake for more than twenty-four hours—and rowing for eight or nine of them—he fell asleep on the soft sand.
He awoke to the loud grinding of stone on stone, and he heard Niloy shouting for him to get up and get in the boat as the shelfling was leaping into it. Thinking that the shelfling had done something to cause the ceiling or the wall to collapse, he pushed the boat from the sand and leapt in, preparing to row. Niloy moved to the bow of the boat, yelling for him to row for his life. Confused and still waking from his slumber, he did so out of reflex. He rowed the boat until he felt it strike a wall. He looked around, wanting to loosen an oar and push them away from the wall, but Niloy stopped him and pointed to a chain hanging from the ceiling above them. It hung from a dark opening, and water dripped from it. As his eyes adjusted further, he saw that it was attached to a large metal rod that was longer than their boat and about as big around as a tree trunk; from that bar hung four chains that dropped into the water. Following them down into the surface of the lake, he watched as the chains began rising out of the water; as they did so, a basket made of thick strips of metal appeared, ready to cradle the boat. He maneuvered the boat to fit within the cradle and he watched as it lifted them from the waters of the lake, carrying them up into the shaft that had been cut out of the stone above them.
Niloy watched it all with fascination as they rose. He looked at Dmitri and explained to him that there was a panel carved into the rock wall that the key on the chain had opened, and inside there was a lever that said up in dwarvish, so he pulled it, and the cavern ceiling opened and began lowering the cradle into the water. Dmitri realized that they had nearly missed their opportunity; they were fortunate that he had gotten them to the cradle in time before it began rising.
During the time that it took the shelfling to explain that, they had almost reached the top of the shaft, and the chain stopped. The two of them wondered what was going to happen next when they heard the stone grinding closed beneath them and watched as water began flowing over the top of the shaft, down along the walls below their cradled boat. They waited in the cradle for over two hours as the shaft filled; as it reached the bottom of the boat, they, too, began rising with the water in the shaft. The boat rose to the top of the shaft but they still saw no way to get out. Suddenly walls rose all around them, allowing a rush of water to begin running from their bow to the back of the boat.
“We’re pointed the wrong way!” Dmitri shouted, sitting down and attempting to turn the boat so that it would flow with the current that was building up around it. The shelfling rushed into the wheelhouse and pulled out the maps.
“This tunnel runs for over a league!” the shelfling shouted to Dmitri.
Dmitri grabbed one of his daggers and sliced the leather strap that held the oar in the oarlock. Dropping the dagger to the bottom of the boat, he lifted the oar and began using it to push the back portion of the boat around, attempting to get the bow to face forward. The boat began turning, but the water level was also rising; they began moving with the currents that it generated. Niloy watched Dmitri’s effort and saw what he was attempting to do, but
he also saw that the other oar was hanging loose in the water; he realized that the oar could get shattered against the wall, just like they could. He rushed from the wheelhouse and used all of his might and weight to lift the oar, then dropped the paddle end of it inside the gunwale, where it bounced to a rest. The bow of the boat was now just inches from the rock face, so he leaned forward, guiding the bow of the boat away from the wall with his hands. He attempted to keep it moving in the direction that Dmitri had turned it in, as well as keeping it from being dragged across the rock wall, potentially sinking them.
The two got the boat turned around just as the shaft finished filling and they were drifting with the current that flowed out onto the lake, or so they hoped. Dmitri stood in the middle of the boat, using the oar in his attempt to keep them in the center of the current. He saw his dagger and quickly picked it up between his efforts. After what seemed like an eternity, they saw that they were now heading toward a bright light at the end of the tunnel. Excited, they looked at one another, each realizing that they had managed to escape as the light came closer and closer. They heard the rumbling before they realized what it was.
After so many hours in the darkness, the bright light that now fed into the tunnel was almost blinding them. They were already passing through a waterfall before they had the chance to realize the danger they were facing—and before they could do anything about it. The waterfall didn’t swamp their boat, but the force of it managed to shatter the rotted wood of the wheelhouse, crushing it along with the maps inside. Niloy and Dmitri began tossing the broken pieces of wood from the boat as they searched for the maps. They found the soggy mess of papers and saw immediately that they would no longer able to use them.
Niloy stood and began scanning the area, attempting to figure out where the underground river had led them. The river had deposited them on the lake, but he was unsure of where. He also hoped that it was far from Eod’s island.
“Do you know where we are?” Dmitri asked.
“No; not yet,” he replied, scanning the area.
Dmitri realized that he needed to begin rowing before the force of the falls pulled them back underneath it. After he had rowed the boat enough to move it out of the back current that the falls were creating, he saw that they had exited the cavern into a hidden alcove. It was preventing them from seeing where they had come out in relation to Eod’s keep. He began rowing them out toward the open water, since there was no place to land the boat to get out and look. As they cleared the alcove, they saw that they were far south of the island—if it were still morning. Dmitri had lost track of time once he had fallen asleep, so he was unsure whether it was morning or afternoon. Looking up to the sun, he determined that it was still morning based on its position in the sky—albeit late morning.
“We’re sitting on the south tip of the lake. If we’re not careful, we’re going to come across one of Eod’s ships. Should we stay in the alcove until night?” Dmitri asked.
“I say we go for it; now that we know where we are, we should be able to land east of his docks and make a run for it.”
“What if he knows that we’re missing and he sent word to those loyal to him at the docks?” Dmitri replied. “I have no desire to get caught again just to be returned.”
“Me either. But what if he sends out patrols—or worse yet, uses his magic while we are sitting still?” Niloy pointed out.
“Okay, let’s do it your way.”
Dmitri began rowing, surprised that he wasn’t as tired as he thought he would be. Maybe all that training and work had paid off. He took large strokes, pulling the boat through the light, choppy water and following the rock-lined wall to his left. Niloy sat in the bow of the boat, scanning the area for anyone who might spot them.
He rowed for more than an hour, until a spot where they could beach the boat was visible. He began rowing toward it.
“What are you doing?” Niloy asked him.
“Getting out of this boat,” Dmitri replied.
“We haven’t made it past the docks yet.”
“Yes, we have. That river dropped us out past them. They have to be to the west of us, or we would have come across them already. Otherwise the shoreline wouldn’t be turning north like it is.”
Unable to argue with his logic, Niloy agreed with him, so they landed the boat. Dmitri pulled his wet blanket and sheet from the boat; using one of his new daggers, he started cutting a slit in the sheet. He tore it the rest of the way though.
“What are you doing?” Niloy asked.
“Our food is in that barrel, and I would prefer to carry more than a handful. Since we don’t have any packs, I’m making us a couple.”
Niloy watched as he continued cutting up the sheet. He sliced it into a large H pattern, leaving the center areas attached. On the lower side, he cut slits in several places; at the bottom, he did the same but in a smaller version, using half of the remaining sheet. He went to the barrel and removed the top of it. He looked in and saw that water had leaked in as they went under the falls, and the bread had gotten wet. He signaled to Niloy, and when he climbed back into the boat, Dmitri tore the loaf in half, handing one segment to him.
“Eat this before it becomes inedible,” he said, stuffing the soggy mass into his mouth.
Niloy took it. Though he wasn’t fond of soggy bread, the human’s choice made sense, so he ate it. Use it now before they couldn’t. At least it was nourishment.
After they finished off the bread, he reached into the barrel, taking one of the boxes of dried rations and opening it. He saw that they were still dry and slid it closed. He tossed a couple of them to the shelfling and grabbed several more; then he climbed out of the boat, moving toward the sheets that were still spread out. He set the small boxes in the center of the top of the sheet and went back for more. They emptied the barrel of the few supplies they had and split the load, putting half within each pack. Dmitri then began to roll the contents toward the center of his makeshift pack, including the candles he had brought.
Once he got to the center, he stopped to check on Niloy’s progress and saw that he was doing okay just watching and following him. He then folded the outside long portions inward. He tore the remaining long center section into several strips, leaving them attached; using those, he tied the contents together so that they could be carried without falling out. He picked up the tied bundle and finished tying the makeshift pack over his shoulders and around his waist. He took the remaining quarter of the sheet, tearing off several strips and tying his blanket up into a roll. Then using a couple more strips from it, he tied a carry strap onto it and it hung it over his shoulders as well, tossing the rest of the sheet to Niloy so he could do the same with his blanket. Dmitri looked at Niloy and asked, “Are you going to be okay without any shoes?”
Niloy had been forced to run around the dungeons and the keep without shoes for so many years, he’d grown accustomed to it and hadn’t thought to try to find any.
“I hope so,” he said as he finished tying his pack and blanket.
“Which way do we go?” Dmitri asked, as his survival school training began guiding him.
“Southeast—to make sure we get past Bajakel without his troops seeing us. We’re going to have to cross the mountains there,” he replied, pointing to snow-covered peaks that were leagues ahead of them.
“You won’t make it through there without shoes,” Dmitri replied. “Besides, aren’t those mountains home to orcs and ogres? Whatever they are,” he finished, never having seen either.
“So, you’re proposing what? Sneak though the valley path?” Niloy asked in response.
Dmitri just looked at him, then at the shelfling’s feet, then back at him.
“No, thanks. I’m going that way,” Niloy said as he began walking toward the mountains.
Dmitri shrugged and followed him.
Chapter 24
“Only in courage and truth is honor found!”
(E.Mit., 7.1 - Book of Earth, Tenets of Mithureal,
Chapter 7, Verse 1)
Jeresette watched as the door opened. He had waited for hours while they slept, knowing that they were still just past that door. He could hear them in their attempts to be quiet, but they were dwarves; quiet to them was nothing to a demon who had survived for thousands of years in the silence of Asmordia. One wrong sound had meant death to all manner of those inhabiting that dark realm. He stood still, realizing that it was the half-elven leaving first, but he watched the elf pause as the door began to close behind him. He decided to stay by the door, waiting for the two outworlders so he could follow them. Jeresette was thankful that the trolls hadn’t made it that far; their stench and noise would have aroused them. He waited for the two outworlders. He would have gone in and retrieved them, but he knew little of those that accompanied them, and even demons had limits against proper enemies.
As the stone door ground closed, Helor looked up and down the tunnel, seeing nothing. He turned toward the closed door, and using the pitch from a torch, he marked the door’s location. He turned back into the tunnel and began making his way toward the abandoned outpost. Helor had realized upon their departure that his having to scout out the dragon alone was going to have to happen sooner or later—particularly since he was the only one who could make his way through complete darkness unimpeded. Dwarves could see through darkness, but not nearly as well as elves could, so he hadn’t been surprised when Sterling and Dumas approached him with their plan. Whether it had been just the four of them or all of the additional people who had met up with them, he would have to do the spying. He was grateful for their aid, though, as he had never had any illusions about the chances of surviving a fight with a dragon that the four of them had. Helor was grateful that the odds of survival had increased dramatically with the arrival of Ollie’s friends. Helor didn’t have many friends, but he respected anyone who could cultivate such loyalty. He shifted the secured torches and tossed the long line over his shoulder, ensuring that they were secured and silent as he began to make his way into the darkness. The faint sweet smell that he hadn’t noticed before was evident; ever since the dwarf had pointed it out, he had been constantly aware of it.
