by Rick Cook
Malkin rounded a corner and stopped short, rapier half out of its scabbard. Glandurg hissed and stepped out beside her, whipping Blind Fury free. Wiz took a firmer grip on his staff and peered around Malkin and over Glandurg. Nothing moved. It had been a guardroom, Wiz realized. The same big fireplace and benches and tables he had seen when he had stumbled into such a room full of goblin guards on his first trip here. But the fireplace was cold and dead, the tables and benches were smashed and littered across the floor out beyond the range of the glow globe’s light, and there were other things mixed into toe litter on the stone-flagged floor.
Nearly at his feet was a halberd, its thick oak shaft neatly sheared off a foot behind the head. Beyond that lay a conical metal helmet and further out in the room was a scattering of other pieces of armor and bones.
Halfway out in the room was a set of leg armor, from shin guards to tassets. Because it was all together Wiz thought for an instant there might be a leg still in it Then he looked more closely and saw it was empty. The armor had been split open, as if someone-no, something had been at it with a giant can opener.
"What the: ?" Danny breathed in Wiz’s ear.
Sword and dagger at the ready, Malkin eased catlike into the room. Wiz shifted his grip on his staff to provide covering fire if needed. But mere was no movement, no sound but their own breathing.
Malkin knelt beside the leg armor and carefully turned it with the point of her dagger, wincing slightly at the noise. Then she turned and examined an unrecognizable bit of bone nearby.
"This is old," she announced. "Several years I would say."
Wiz turned up the glow globe and flooded the chamber with blue light. Then he and the others eased into the room in a tight knot.
"How many?" he asked the kneeling thief.
Malkin glanced around and shrugged. "More than half a dozen, perhaps as many as twenty. It would be a pretty puzzle to reassemble enough pieces for an accurate count" She looked more carefully. "But I would say they were all killed at the same time."
"It probably goes back to when the Dark League ruled the city, or a little after," Wiz said. "Even then these tunnels were full of nasties."
"Perhaps it departed with its masters," Malkin suggested.
Wiz looked skeptical. "The Dark League didn’t exactly have time to clean up after themselves. And I know there were some pretty unpleasant things left when I was kidnapped back here. A couple of them almost got me."
"Then best assume our foe lurks here yet," Glandurg said, shifting his grip on Blind Fury.
"Best assume whatever it is is pretty potent," Wiz added. "These guards were not pushovers."
"There is another thing we can assume," Malkin said as she stood up and brushed the dirt from her knees without letting go her grip on either her rapier or her dagger. "These bones show cut marks. After they were killed their flesh was stripped from their bones and probably consumed on the spot."
The group left the guardroom walking softly and peering into the shadows and silence with every sense alert.
"Nice thing to find," Danny muttered to Wiz as they continued down the tunnel.
"In a way it’s good we found it. People will take this place more seriously now."
"I already took this place plenty seriously." "Well, take it even more seriously."
At the Wizards’ Keep, the day dawned on a castle under siege. There was no sun, only dark fog full of darker shapes that swirled about the castle and poked and pried at every nook and cranny. Nor were the fog’s powers growing any less.
"Three wing beats out and you’re lost," Dragon Leader told Bal-Simba in the latter’s workroom. Dragon Leader was a compact man with blond hair and ice-gray eyes, still muffled in his flying leathers. His teeth did not chatter but that seemed more from an effort of will than warmth. The cold sucks the life out of you, heat spell or no."
Bal-Simba looked at his wing commander over the remains of his breakfast. He had worked the night through and eaten at his desk, much good it had done! He stood up and walked to the window, scowling out into the swirling fog with its half-revealed shapes. Arianne, who had been listening from the corner, moved beside him.
"Lord, say the word and we will go again. But I am not sure how many will return."
"No." The wizard shook his head and turned from the window. "You have done well and I thank you, but best that we husband our resources until we know more." As unobtrusively as possible a castle page slipped into the room and began to collect the breakfast things.
"I’m sorry, My Lord."
"There is nothing to be sorry for. You have done all you could while this magic fog hangs over the whole land."
"But it doesn’t," the page piped up.
All of them turned to face him and the boy colored to the roots of his ash-blond hair. "Well, it doesn’t," he added half-defiantly. "It starts thinning almost as soon as you get outside the castle walls and by the time you’re across the river it’s almost gone."
"How do you know?" Bal-Simba asked.
The boy studied his toes. "I’ve been there," he admitted finally. "I know I wasn’t supposed to but Henry bet me and:" He ran down, reserves of courage exhausted.
Bal-Simba and the others studied the page. Look at him once and you’d think he was fifteen or sixteen. Look closer and you’d see he was a couple of years younger, just tall for his age.
"Who are you?"
"Brian, My Lord. The cook’s son."
"Do those things in the fog hinder you?"
The page shook his head. "They sort of talk to you, but mostly they ignore you. You can walk right through them. It’s cold and you can’t see anything, but if you stay on the path you can follow it right down to the river and take one of the boats across."
"It appears," Dragon Leader said, "that this cub is a better scout than any of my riders."
"Or the thing is attracted by ridden dragons," Arianne said, "and perhaps the magic you carry." She looked back at the page. "Did you have any magic upon you?" The boy shook his head.
"Brian, do you think you can get back across the river?" asked Dragon Leader. The boy nodded.
"Your plan?" Bal-Simba asked Dragon Leader.
"The boy can go where my riders cannot. We must know more about this cloud and how far it extends."
"A dangerous mission for a child," Arianne pointed out.
"I’m almost thirteen!" Brian said and then blushed again as the others looked at him.
"Almost old enough for the apprentice squadron," Dragon Leader said.
"If he cannot carry magic, the boy cannot communicate with us once he is out there."
"I know," Bal-Simba said. "It will have to be in and out."
"I can do that, My Lord," Brian said enthusiastically.
"Very well," Bal-Simba said finally to Dragon Leader. "Take the cub, outfit him warmly and tell him what to look for. But no magic, mind!"
Dragon Leader put his hand on the beaming page’s arm and guided him from the chamber.
"The shifts we are driven to!" Bal-Simba sighed when they were out the door. Arianne laid her hand on the wizard’s shoulder. "I believe you are the one who said we do what we must."
Bal-Simba reached up and patted her hand. "That does not mean we have to like it."
SEVEN
TROUBLE IN THE TUNNELS
In spite of his concentration Wiz nearly ran into Malkin when the tall thief stopped suddenly. Almost instinctively the others clustered around her. Malkin peered ahead intently. "I think there is a light at the end of this tunnel."
"Daylight?" Danny whispered.
"More likely a gorilla with a flashlight," Wiz whispered. The others looked at him oddly. "I mean, let’s be careful about this."
Malkin in the lead they crept down the tunnel, with the rest of the party following in a tight knot. Before they had gone another twenty paces Wiz was sure there was light ahead. Another hundred and the glimmer had resolved itself into an eerie blue glow.
Malkin looked
over her shoulder at Wiz and raised her eyebrows in silent question.
"I don’t know," he whispered. "I don’t remember anything like this." He turned to the others. "Stay close and stay cool, people. And don’t make any noise." Cautiously the party crept up the tunnel toward the glow, Malkin flitting along without a whisper of sound and the others coming as quietly as their natures permitted. Wiz tried to watch where he put his feet, keep up with Malkin and not make any noise. He winced every time one of his companions made a scrape or dislodged a loose rock with a clatter.
There was no sign of life ahead, just the glow which gradually got stronger as they approached. It filled the tunnel with a soft cool radiance mat seemed to radiate evenly from the top third of the tunnel. There was no sound and not so much as a breath of air moving. But there was a smell that reminded Wiz somehow of the basement of an old house, musty without being damp.
At last they stepped out into a section of tunnel with a flat floor and walls that looked as if the rock had been adzed smooth. At this distance they could detect irregularities in the glowing surface as if it had a somewhat lumpy undercoat. There was still no sign of life.
Wiz motioned Danny forward to take a reading with the magic detector. The younger programmer came up beside him and swept his talisman over the glowing surface. "I’m not getting any magic from it," Danny whispered. Wiz reached out and touched the glow. It felt like dry wood pulp and some of the glow came off on his hand. "It’s fungus," he said quietly. "Nothing but fungus."
"Hmmf!" said Glandurg, striding up and yanking off a large handful of the glowing material. The move filled the air around him with dust and he sneezed thunderously. "All that over a little fox fire."
"Quiet," Malkin hissed.
"Bah!" the dwarf roared. "There’s nothing here but some fungus."
"And whatever planted it," Malkin said quietly. "Something has been bringing it wood to feed upon."
"And what," demanded the dwarf," do you suppose this oh-so-dangerous farmer of fungus might be?"
Wiz saw indistinct shadows moving in the blueness ahead. "I think we’re about to find out."
An ant! was Wiz’s first thought. But it wasn’t. It was insectile and proportioned something like an ant, with divided body and long, spindly legs. But ants don’t walk erect. Nor are they six feet tall. True, some ants do have oversized heads with enormous pincers that open and close reflexively, but Wiz had never heard of an ant with polished steel blades riveted to its pincers. The thing came on, stopping every couple of steps, to swing its head this way and that as if testing the air. Wiz and Malkin began to creep backwards, one slow step at a time. The ones behind them backed up as well, to the end of the smoothed part of the tunnel and then into the unworked portion.
It was then that Glandurg’s undwarf-like clumsiness betrayed him. He put his root down on a loose rock, which went scooting out from under him, taking his foot and leg with it. Glandurg went down with a crash and a curse and the ant-thing lowered its head, opened its pincers and charged.
"Drop!" Wiz yelled to Malkin and hurled a lightning bolt at the attacker. The bolt struck home and the creature shriveled and blackened under the impact. The fungus-impregnated wood pulp around it began to smolder, releasing clouds of noxious black smoke. Malkin rolled past Wiz and bounced to her feet, rapier and dagger ready. Beyond her the light from the tunnel was blocked off as a mass of ant-things swarmed toward the intruders.
"Let’s get out of here," Wiz shouted.
No one needed a second invitation. They turned and ran with Wiz bringing up the rear and throwing lightning bolts to slow down pursuit.
Another ant-thing appeared out of a side tunnel. It barely had time to open its jaws before Danny dropped it with a fireball. Two others poked their armored heads out of side crevices as the party fled past. Wiz struck one with a spell and Malkin cut the forelegs out from under the other with a deft stroke of her rapier. The thing stumbled, rebalanced itself on its remaining legs and came on after them.
Wiz cast his anti-friction spell on the tunnel. The creatures slipped and slid, but they were more nimble than a dragon and they kept coming, skating down the tunnel toward their fleeing prey.
Wiz stopped dead in the middle of the tunnel and took a deep breath.
"Are you mad?" Malkin yelled. "Come on!" But Wiz ignored her, raised his staff and began to chant.
There was a rumble and a shiver and the loose rocks began to move. At first they shook where they were, as if the earth was quaking. Then they began to move. Gradually at first and then faster and faster the rocks flew down the tunnel like a reverse explosion. Two boulders tried to get through a space not quite big enough and caught. Three other smaller pieces piled up against them and then a host of rocks from pebbles to boulders jammed against them blocking the tunnel solid.
"Cute," Malkin said, admiring Wiz’s handiwork.
"It’s a variation on Jerrys rubble-moving spell, which we used the last time we were in the City of Night," Wiz explained. "Now let’s get out of here before they get the tunnel unblocked." He looked around. ’There aren’t enough loose rocks here to do that trick again."
"Now what?" the thief asked as they hurried along.
"Now we find a place where the roof and walls are solid rock and cave in this whole section of the runnel. We can’t do it here because the ceiling is too unstable. We’d probably get caught in the landslide."
"Hey," Danny yelled from up ahead. ’There’s a door here."
As Wiz came puffing up he saw that there was indeed another door of iron-bound oak set in the solid rock wall
"Can you get us through that?" Wiz asked Malkin. "It looks like the rock is solid enough on the other side to let me use my cave-in spell."
Malkin bent and examined the door, running her fingertips over it.
"Hmm," she said. "Ah, yes. Yes indeed."
"Can you open it?"
"Of course."
"How long will it take?"
Malkin looked at him as if he were simple. "As long as it takes, of course." Behind them they could hear a faint scrabbling and shirting as the bugs worked to clear the tunnel.
"We may not have that long. We’re gonna have to cut our way through this one."
"Stand aside, Wizard," Glandurg said. "It is time for Blind Fury to sing." That wasn’t what Wiz had in mind, but Glandurg had already unsheathed the gleaming blade and was waving it above his head. Obviously something-or someone- was about to get cut and on quick reflection Wiz decided it would be better for everyone if it was the door. He motioned the others back and stepped well clear himself.
Malkin indicated a spot on the wall to the right of the door. "Aim here." Then she joined the group well behind the dwarf and out of range.
Glandurg nodded, raised the sword over his head and brought it down with a mighty blow. Naturally he missed completely. Instead of striking the rock wall, he hit the door along the hinge line, shearing wood and hinges from shoulder height to floor. The door, not made to withstand such an attack, simply collapsed into a pile of boards.
"Missed," the dwarf said sheepishly.
’That’s all right," Wiz told him as Malkin winked at him over Glandurg’s head. Then she stepped through the doorway and into the room beyond. As soon as they were through a couple of quick blasts from Wiz’s staff collapsed a hundred yards of tunnel.
Danny was looking down the tunnel after the dwarf. Then he caught Wiz’s arm as Wiz came past. "Wiz," he whispered, "you’re sure he’s on our side, right? I mean you checked out his credentials and everything?"
"He thinks he’s on our side," Wiz whispered back. Then he hurried on, leaving Danny puzzled in his wake.
Even a small dragon was an uncomfortable fit in the Watchers’ chamber. The sunken floor was crammed with stations for those who used their scrying skills to see far beyond the borders of the Capital or to communicate across the length and breadth of the lands of mortals. The tables were wood, the men and women sitting one or two to a table w
ore the robes of wizards and they stared at crystals or bowls. There was barely space between them for humans to move, much less a dragon. Nor was the raised platform that ran around three sides of the room really large enough for a beast the size of Moira’s new body to be comfortable.
Moira grimly ignored that, even when a hurrying Watcher tripped over her tail. She and Bal-Simba had come for a more important purpose.
"And they still have not reported in?" Bal-Simba asked the Chief Watcher.
"As I said, My Lord."
"Have you tried to contact them?"
"I felt it was best to ask your advice before doing so."
Then do so now. Tell them to return. We can still bring them back along the Wizard’s Way, but if this thing continues to grow we will not be able to do so for much longer."
The Chief Watcher spoke a spell and two dozen demons appeared in the air before him. He spoke again and the demons began to speak, each but a fraction of a syllable before the next took up the message.
There is nothing, Lord."
Bal-Simba frowned mightily. "Perhaps the new crystals are not working," Moira said.
"Perhaps," the Watcher said neutrally.
Try to reach them," the wizard commanded. "See if you can get a reply. If you cannot reach them on the special crystal, try other means. If you cannot reach them, convene a coven of wizards and pull them back unawares."
The Watcher nodded and turned back to his work, trying to ignore the scaly nose thrust over his shoulder.
The Watcher was still bent over the crystal when Bronwyn came hurrying into the Watch chamber.
"My Lord, My Lady, you had best come. Jerry is stirring. I think he may be awake."
Jerry Andrews was tossing restlessly on the infirmary pallet when they arrived. Two of Bronwyn’s apprentices were beside him, bathing his brow and keeping him from falling out. They looked up and withdrew slightly as Bronwyn led the others in.
