"Are you saying we should dump him?" said Sidney.
"Tempting idea," said Nick. "I mean, he has sucked back enough poison to kill a dozen men."
"But the priests of Dion are able, so it is said, to detoxify any poison . . ." said Timaeus.
"Yeah, maybe. Okay, okay. But if he dies on us, we're going to feel awfully stupid."
Nick, Sidney, and Timaeus had loaded themselves with as much of the treasure as they could possibly carry. Kraki could carry a fair amount, even burdened by the priest, but that still left a heartbreakingly large pile of gold. "We've already got a king's ransom," said Sidney.
"And suppose we had to ransom a king," muttered Nick. "Then we wouldn't have anything left."
"Not much danger of that," said Garni. He had emptied his backpack and was sorting his equipment into two piles: objects to be abandoned to make room for treasure, and things he still wanted to carry. "Since there hasn't been a human king in two millennia."
"Are you done yet?" asked Nick. "Yes," said Garni.
"You're throwing that much away?" said Nick, impressed.
"Eh? No, no. That's the necessary pile. I'm throwing away the other one."
"Gimme a break," Nick moaned. "Every ounce you can carry is worth a pound argentum . . ."
"Nick, lad," said Garni, "we'll never get back up that shaft without my mountaineering equipment. And any of these items—"
"Could save our lives. Garni, you're killing me."
"Ve come back later," said Kraki. "Get rest of gold."
"No chance," said Nick. "There's no way we can beat that monster when it's awake."
"Hokay," said Kraki. "I kill now."
Nick thought about that. "No," he said finally. "The odds are, you'll wake it up. And if you do kill it, someone else will rip off the gold before we get back."
"Yah," said Kraki. "Also, no glory in killing sleeping monster." "Speaking of which," said Timaeus, "I'd just as soon get going before it decides it's finished its nap." Garni nodded and began repacking his supplies.
"A little under two million," said Nick. "Vhat?" said Kraki.
"I figured it out," Nick said. "At sixpence a pint, a hundred and fifty pounds of gold buys a little under two millions pints of mead."
Kraki patted Nick on the back. Nick stumbled under the impact. "Don't vorry," Kraki said. "Vith my share, I buy you all the mead you vant."
Fifi moved slowly, slowly down the corridor. Blindly, blindly, her head swung back and forth, back and forth. Members of her species were not fast; they didn't need to be.
There was a scurrying noise down the corridor. Fragrit held the lantern higher.
Lenny came running around a corner, peering back over his shoulder. He had what looked like a wizard's robes clutched in his arms.
Lenny turned, saw Fifi and the orcs, and stopped dead in his tracks. He was nonplussed.
"Look, guys," said Drizhnakh. "It's our pal Lenny."
"Lenny . . . Lenny come to find palth," the lizardman said nervously. "Whatcha got dere, Lenny? C'mere," said Drizhnakh.
"Nothing," said Lenny, trying vainly to hide the robes behind his back. "Lemme see dat," said Fragrit, snatching Lenny's burden. "Wizard's robes," he said. "Coupla daggers. Underwear. You steal da guy's underwear, Lenny?"
Lenny hung his head.
"A pouch wiv miscellaneous crap. Nice pipe," Fragrit said. "A purse!" He opened it. "Looks like a coupla quid." He pocketed the purse.
"So where is dese guys at, Lenny?" said Drizhnakh. "Humanth beat up Rog," Lenny said.
"Dey did, did dey? Dey must be pretty tough. Good thing we got Fifi along," said Fragrit, patting her flank.
Lenny looked at the creature and shuddered.
"Dey'll head for da shaft wiv da treasure," Garfok said from atop his mount.
"Right!" said Fragrit. "We'll nab 'em dere."
The passageway that led from the cavern ended in a sharp right turn. Beyond the turn was a corridor that led past the pool, the shaft—and, at the moment, Fifi and the orcs.
"I'll scout ahead," Nick said, dumping his treasure. Silently, he moved into the passageway. He turned.
"Somefing's down da corridor," Garfok hissed.
Fragrit opened the lantern door. Nick froze in the light, startled. He turned back. . . .
Garfok pulled off Fifi's hood.
The lizard squinted in the light. Her eyes focused. She saw Nick. With a crackle of energy, Nick Pratchitt turned to stone.
The adventurers watched Nick walk forward and turn. He was startled. He turned back to call to them. He turned to stone.
They were stunned.
"Nick!" shouted Sidney and ran toward him.
Timaeus grabbed her. "No, you fool!" he said urgently.
Sidney stood, gulped, and eyed the statue. She looked at Timaeus and nodded shakily.
Garni set down his backpack. Cursing under his breath, he pawed through it rapidly, tossing objects heedlessly, until he found the mirror.
"Da hood!" Fragrit said. Garfok dropped it in place.
They stood silently for a moment. Fragrit closed his lantern door. "He's right in da entrance," Garfok said thoughtfully from atop Fifi. "I bet dey saw him when Fifi stoned him."
"Now what?" said Drizhnakh.
"Dey're warned," said Garfok. "Da thing to do is attack while dey're confused."
"Only, if we get ahead of Fifi we can't use her. Cause she might turn us to stone," said Fragrit.
"So's we either lose our best weapon," said Garfok, "or we sit here until dey figger out how to beat us."
"Right," said Drizhnakh. "Fragrit, you is a friggin' military genius, ya know dat?"
"Shaddup, you two!" said Fragrit menacingly. "I is beginning to think I know who is gonna be da next sacrifice."
They stood in the darkness, wondering what to do.
Garni tied the mirror to his eleven-foot pole and extended the pole down the passage. He juggled the mirror until he could see around the turn. "Can't see a thing," he said. "It's dark down there."
"Here," Sidney said. She lit a torch and threw it toward the turn in the passage. Garni studied the mirror.
A torch rolled into the corridor. There was some kind of pole. And a shiny thing . . .
"Keep da hood in place!" Fragrit shouted.
Garfok was just about to pull the rope but stopped.
Drizhnakh looked at the packed orcish formation. "If dey use a fireball on us, we're goners," he told Fragrit. Fragrit glared.
"Awright!" Fragrit yelled, coming to a decision. "Garfok! Get Fifi movin'. You udder guys; move forward, behind Fifi. Bowmen! Nock yer weapons."
"Boy," said Drizhnakh caustically, "dis'll be a speedy charge." Slowly, slowly, the lizard moved forward.
"Oy," Garni said, peering into the mirror. "At least twenty orcs. All armed. And some creature I've never seen before, some kind of lizard. One of them is mounted on it."
Timaeus peered over Garni's shoulder at the mirror. "I believe it's a basilisk," he said. "They're quite rare. That would explain what happened to Nick."
"It would?" said Sidney.
Even without his pipe, Timaeus managed to give the impression of pontificating. "Yes. Their glance turns living creatures to stone. They're herbivorous, actually; quite an effective magical defensive sys—"
"They're coming this way!" Garni said.
Timaeus sighed. "My friends," he said, "I am sorry. My powers are exhausted, and in their absence, I fear we have little hope of victory. A basilisk is a fearsome foe indeed."
Kraki slapped him on the back. "Is hokay," he said. "You defeat big monster. No vonder nothing left."
"And yet," said Timaeus, "it is I who have led you to this evil hour, and I who must bear the responsibility for our failure."
Sidney looked at Nick's statue and sighed. "We could run," she said. "Where?" said Garni.
Kraki flexed his muscles and drew his sword. "Is hokay," he said. "Ve kill many to serve us in undervorld. It vill be glorious."
Garni looked up. "It isn't over yet," he said. He pulled the pole in and untied the mirror.
Garni stood by the lip of the passageway. To see around the corner without risking himself, he held his mirror out with one hand. The others stood flat against the cavern wall.
Slowly, slowly, the basilisk turned the corner. Fifi's eyes were unhooded; she was going into battle. She brushed against Nick, who fell over with a clunk. She turned. The orcs trailed her.
Fifi trundled forward. On her long neck, her head was the first thing to come through the entrance and into the cavern. It swayed back and forth with every step. Fifi didn't notice the humans and the dwarf crouched along the cavern walls.
Fifi's head swung toward Garni. He grabbed it, turned it toward him . . .
And held the mirror before the basilisk's eyes. Fifi regarded herself dimly. She probably never realized what she was looking at.
Crackle. Fifi turned to stone.
Kraki roared and swung into the entranceway. He charged the orcs. Clad only in a blanket, Timaeus stepped next to Fifi's statue and began to chant.
On her hands and knees, Sidney scrambled under Fifi's belly toward the orcs, a knife in her teeth.
Garni charged, waving a battle-axe.
"Fire!" yelled Fragrit. A swarm of arrows shot forward.
One bounced off Garni's helm. One hit Kraki's good leg. Unconcernedly, he pulled it out, shouted "YAH HAH!", and charged, flourishing his sword. Heads and limbs flew. He was always happiest when killing things.
Timaeus ducked behind Fifi to avoid the arrows, then stepped back out and began chanting again. Fragrit was chanting, too.
Sidney scrambled out between Fifi's front legs and buried her dagger in the throat of a surprised orc. She drew her sword and engaged two others. Garni killed two orcs before the rest withdrew around him, unwilling to face his whirling axe. He stood with his back to the corridor wall. "Come here, greenie," he said to one. "Think you can kill me just by being ugly?" Timaeus conjured a ball of flame in his hand and hurled it at the orcs . . .
It fizzled. He cursed.
A ray of blackness shot from Fragrit's pointing finger and enveloped Timaeus. The wizard fell.
Three orcs fought Sidney. She took a wound to her sword arm and dropped the weapon. One of the orcs clubbed her in the temple with a spear. She fell to her hands and knees.
Quickly, they tackled her and bound her arms and legs.
"Sidney!" yelled Garni. He tried to go to her, but the orcs moved in, and he was forced back to the wall.
Kraki fought all the way through the orcish horde, from one end to the other. He was covered in green gore and grinning maniacally. "Some fun, hah?" he asked an orc as he chopped him open from shoulder to breastbone. The orc did not reply.
Lenny was cowering in the rear.
"You!" yelled Kraki. "I kill you now, lizard pig!" The sentiment, however zoologically absurd, was at least heartfelt.
Lenny ran. Kraki ran after him.
"Get da bowmen up here," said Drizhnakh. They stood behind the orcs facing Garni and fired at the dwarf. An arrow hit Garni in the shoulder. His axework faltered. He spat at Drizhnakh.
The orcs moved in. He wounded one before they bashed him unconscious.
The orcs stood panting. Slowly, they realized the battle was over. Fragrit hugged the head of the basilisk. "Fifi," he moaned. "Dey gots ya, Fifi."
Drizhnakh snorted and turned away. "Listen, youse," he said to the orcs. "Pick up da youmans and da dwarf. An' da treasure. We'll take it back to da temple. An' take da youman statue, too; it'll make a nice souvenir." He smiled and tugged on his tusks.
"Poor widdle Fifi," Fragrit said forlornly, petting the stone head.
"We better get out of here before dat guy wiv da sword comes back," said Dorog. "He's tough."
Timaeus was wrapped tight in the bonds of a glowing black net. He struggled but could not break Fragrit's spell. Three orcs picked him up like a sack of potatoes. "Release me at once!" shouted the wizard. "I am an Athelstani citizen!"
The orcs chortled.
Kraki stopped and leaned against the cool wall of the corridor. He couldn't keep up with the lizard, not with the wound in his leg. He panted. He began to realize that he'd made a serious mistake. His friends were in danger back there. He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Stupid, stupid," he told himself. He had to get back.
Only—which way was back? Where were they? Where was he, for that matter?
It was dark. He couldn't see anything. The stone was cool. The only sound was the slow drip of water somewhere in the middle distance.
V
"I sez sacrifice dem now," said Drizhnakh. "Dat way, we can have mansflesh for din-din."
"Yeah!" said Spug enthusiastically. "Mansflesh. Yum!"
"No way," said Fragrit. "Szanbu is already had a sacrifice today." The three humans and the dwarf lay tumbled together in the odiferous cell where they'd been tossed. Filthy straw covered the stone floor. The orcs argued outside the barred window. Thwaite still shivered in the throes of belladonna poisoning.
"Garni?" asked Sidney.
"Yes?" the dwarf replied. His head hurt like the devil. He was seeing double.
"Are you all right
"I think I have a concussion," he said. "And you, Magister?"
Timaeus cleared his throat. "I'm fine, save for a bruised ego," he said. "We need to get them to open the door," said Sidney.
"Why?" asked Timaeus.
"So I can escape," said Sidney.
Timaeus wiggled, trying to find a more comfortable position in the straw. "And how are you going to manage that, my dear?" he said. "I'm out of magic. The two of you are wounded. Thwaite is poisoned. We're all tied up. Nick is a piece of garden statuary, and the gods only know where Kraki is."
Sidney chuckled. "Show a little faith," she said.
"Right," said Timaeus. He sighed, then yelled: "We have a recipe!" There was silence from outside the door. "What da hell?" said Fragrit. "We have a recipe," said Timaeus, "for mansflesh."
"What is you blabbin' about?" said Drizhnakh.
"We took it off some trolls," said Timaeus. "It really sounded quite good. If you must cook us, I would appreciate it if you'd take some care in the preparation."
"Shaddup in dere," said Fragrit.
"I mean, bad enough to be eaten by orcs. But if that is one's fate, one much prefers to go as a meal fit for kings, don't you think?" "Shaddup," said Fragrit.
"How about some nice thigh steaks au poivre?" said Timaeus. "I have no idea whether human diaphragm will double for brisket, but my mother's cook had the most marvelous—"
The door slammed open. "Shaddup you," said Fragrit, driving a boot into Timaeus's aforementioned diaphragm.
A small black cat slipped out the open door. It limped on two legs. Sidney, thought Garni. I had no idea.
The orc kicked Timaeus again. "Don't play with your dinner," gasped the wizard.
"Yah," Kraki said to himself. "This is basilisk." There was no mistaking the stony scales and the skinny neck, even in pitch darkness. "But vhere did they go from here?"
"Mrowr?" said Sidney inquisitively.
"What's that?" said Kraki. Sidney came up and brushed against his legs. Kraki gave a start, then reached down and pet her. "Is kitty-cat," he said. "Pretty pussy." He stroked the length of her and scratched behind her ears. She purred. "How does pussy-cat get in caverns?" he asked.
"Mrow, " she responded and walked away from him. He followed a little, then stopped.
"Now vhat?"
"Mrowr!" Sidney said insistently. She came back to rub up against his legs again, then walked away in the same direction as previously. "Pussycat vants Kraki to follow?" he asked.
"Mrow, " Sidney said, and walked a little farther away. "Is crazy," Kraki said.
Sidney hissed, then meowed again. "Mrowr!"
Kraki sighed. "Hokay," he said. "Vith magic, anything is possible. And I got no better idea vhat to do."
"Orcs a
n' fellow believers," Fragrit intoned, "we is here today once again to propitiate Mistress Szanbu, Goddess of Madness, she whose curses roil da world, she who loves to torture small, furry animals. Oi,
Szanbu, hear me now; we tanks you for our victory over da youmans." Fragrit motioned toward a large, leather-bound chest that stood by the altar. "We tanks you for da treasure dey was carryin', an' we promise dat a goodly portion will be spent to purchase further victims. Accept from us dis sacrifice, in place of our own miserable lives. Let us live, so dat we may bring you further sacrifices.
"Awright, fellas," he continued. "Let's have da cleric first." Garfok and Dorog swung Father Thwaite's limp body up onto the altar and fixed the manacles in place.
"I don't want to watch this," Garni said. Timaeus looked sick and made no reply. He eyed Nick's statue, now occupying a niche to the right of the altar. He prayed that somehow Kraki would find them.
Who is that?
Victims of belladonna poisoning do not enter a coma. Father Thwaite was unconscious only because he was deep in a meditative trance. His mind travelled the veins and byways of his body, helping his liver extract the poison from his bloodstream, calming his rapidly beating heart when the belladonna's stimulus threatened to make it burst. An untrained man would have been dead many times over. Only Thwaite's powers stood between him and death.
Still, his body shook with the poison. It stimulated his heart, his lungs, his muscles; he twitched, his heart beat madly, he breathed in short gasps. Were he not meditating, he would have been conscious: indeed, he would have been preternaturally alert.
The voice in his mind broke his concentration, as being hauled around the caverns by the barbarian had not, as the battle with the orcs had not, as the stench of the cell had not.
No one belonged in his mind. Who? he screamed silently. What?
A human, said the voice. Beware, kinsman. You are in danger. Thwaite's eyes flew open. Above him stood an orc with a knife; and beyond the orc, a wooden carving of Szanbu. Thwaite's own limbs were manacled to an altar. He knew enough about the goddess to know a human sacrifice when he was one.
Another Day, Another Dungeon Page 6
