Obsidian Ridge c-2

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Obsidian Ridge c-2 Page 14

by Jess Lebow


  He was safe-for the moment.

  King Korox stepped back into the storage closet where Genevie was being held. Upon seeing him, the half-elf recoiled in fear.

  "I have very little time for this," said Korox. His head hurt and he rubbed his temples. "So I'm going to ask you some simple questions, and you're going to answer them." He looked right at Genevie, his tone threatening, his words sincere. "Do you understand?"

  The handmaiden nodded.

  "Good. Then we will start." The king paused, looking for the right way to phrase his first question. "How many mages can you gather before nightfall?"

  The half-elf woman looked puzzled. "I don't… I can't gather any."

  The king slammed his fist into a wooden shelf, shattering it and sending the pieces dropping to the floor. "I don't have time for your games. I know you're the Matron, and I'm willing to make a deal with you. That is what you offered, isn't it? That was what you sent Whitman here to tell me. That you wanted some sort of an alliance? So name your price. What is it you want to release my daughter and help me defeat Xeries?"

  "My lord, please forgive me, but I am not the Matron. I don't know any mages or about any deal, and I do not know where Princess Mariko is." She stood in the corner, looking at the king with wide, wild eyes.

  "Damn you!" he shouted, pointing at her with one thick finger. "I will have no more of this! You will deal with me now, or you will die."

  "I told you," Genevie sobbed, terror on her face, "I have no mages. I don't know where the princess is."

  There was commotion behind the king. It sounded as if the guards were holding back someone who wanted to get into the closet.

  "Let me pass!" came a voice. "The king is making a terrible mistake."

  Korox stopped shouting and lowered his finger. "Vasser? Is that Vasser?"

  "Yes, my lord," came the voice. Then, "You see. I told you the king would want to see me."

  The guards stepped aside and into the closet came Vasser. He lifted his very large hat from the top of his head, and swung it out before him as he gave the king an elaborate bow.

  "Before you get carried away, my king, allow me to tell you what I know."

  Korox nodded.

  Placing his hat under his arm, Vasser slipped past the king and stood beside the half-elf woman. "I have been following the princess's handmaiden-among others-for some time. Three days ago, however, she managed to give me the slip, and I've been looking for her on your instruction ever since. This morning I discovered that she has been in the south, purchasing medicinal herbs to give to her grandson." Vasser looked down on the terrified half-elf, her cheek swollen from where the king struck her. "He has a rare disease that will require a very expensive spell to cure. In the meantime, Genevie has been getting a copper weed poultice from a druid in Duhlnarim, to soothe her grandson's symptoms while she collects the coin to pay for the spell."

  "So you're telling me that her disappearance was a complete coincidence? That it had nothing to do with the princess's kidnapping?"

  Vasser nodded. "That is what I am telling you."

  "She…" The reality of the situation hit King Korox, and a heavy pang of guilt set in. "You're telling me she's innocent?"

  "Not entirely," said Vasser. "She is guilty of stealing candlesticks and bits of silverware from the princess's chamber."

  "I was going to repay her. As… as soon as I had the coin." Genevie held her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry, my lord. I'm… I'm ashamed of what I have done, and I should be punished."

  The king was completely deflated. "I am the one who should be ashamed." He dropped to his knees in front of the handmaiden. "You're not the Matron, are you?"

  Genevie shook her head. "No."

  "Your only crime is that you tried to help your sick grandson."

  The half-elf nodded, not looking at him.

  The king tried to take her hand, but Genevie flinched away.

  Korox's heart sank. He had never done anything so vile as this before. He had never acted in a manner so unbefitting a king. He no longer felt as if he deserved all of his riches and power. If Bane were to appear before him and demand that he turn over all that he had, he would do it right now, without complaint. Nothing he could ever do, no matter how much good it would bring, could possibly make up for the thrashing and accusation he laid on this poor woman today.

  He pulled his hand away from the half-elf. "I know that what I have done to you is wrong. And I am certain that my apology does not excuse me for my behavior. Nor, I suspect, will it make you feel any better." He paused. "But I give you my apology all the same."

  Getting to his feet, the king stepped out into the hall. "Get her a healer, right away. And send a message to the temple of Ilmater," he said to the wizard who had been summoned to ward the room against magic. "Have them send a high priest to cure Genevie's grandson. Whatever it costs, no matter the expense, I will pay for it personally." He glanced back into the lightless chamber Vasser was helping the old half-elf get to her feet. "And I want her to have a bodyguard. For the rest of her days. No one will ever be allowed to lay a hand on her in anger, ever again."

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Claw sneezed. The dust in the room was making his nose itch, and he scratched it with his shoulder, rubbing the tough cloth up under his mask. The blades on his gauntlets made some of the simple things quite a bit more difficult, but it was something he'd learned to live with.

  There were three passages left in the crossroads after the hallway collapsed. The silver needle pointed to one on the Claw's fight. Eager to get out of the dust cloud, he turned and followed the compass.

  The passage emptied into a much larger room. A series of large stone pillars, each the same distance from the next, dominated the space-all of them radiated out in circles from the center of the chamber. There was a crack in the ceiling, out of which a purplish glow emanated.

  As he walked deeper into the room, the silver needle moved, pointing farther to the right. He must be getting close! Weaving his way around a pair of pillars, the Claw stopped in his tracks. The bulbous body of a gargantuan spider blocked his passage.

  A cold chill ran down his spine. He tried to shake it off, but it was followed by another, and then another. There was no getting used to it. He hated spiders, and this was the biggest one he'd ever laid eyes on.

  From where he stood, it looked as if the creature was jammed in place. It held perfectly still, not twitching so much as a leg. Moving to his left, he watched the needle on the compass as it swung again, pointing right at the spider.

  A cold chill gripped the Claw, squeezing his stomach with fear. He continued to circle around, his hands gripped tight, hoping he wouldn't find what the compass was telling him he would. Slipping around another pillar, every hair on his body stood on end-a second huge spider.

  Just like the first, its body was seemingly trapped between two pillars. It too held completely still, not a twitch, a tap, or a click. From where he stood, the Claw couldn't see either of their heads, but it certainly looked as if they were both facing the same thing.

  Giving it a wide berth, the Claw moved around the rear of the trapped vermin. Steeling himself for what he was going to find, he peered around the pillar and into the space that seemed to hold these two huge spiders' attention.

  The floor was awash in reddish brown filth. Stringy bits of gooey flesh and large chips of chitin littered the ground. From what he could piece together, the spiders had been cut in half and pounded flat. They had no faces, no fangs, no front legs, nothing left except their round lower halves. They had literally been squashed like bugs-only they were really big bugs, and whoever had done the squashing apparently didn't have feet large enough to smash more than half.

  The Claw had never seen the inside of a spider-other than on the bottom of his boot. But he had seen what a dead human looked like. And nothing on the ground in front of him even remorely resembled the body of a princess.

  Glancing down at the compass, t
he needle no longer pointed at the spiders. Instead, it faced the wall to his left. He was both relieved and frustrated. He had been terrified of coming around that pillar and finding Mariko's body, half devoured, enshrouded in spider silk. At least he knew that wasn't her fate.

  At the same time, he'd been following this compass for a long time now, and it always seemed to point into walls. You would think someone could invent a magic that could take physical barriers into account.

  The Claw stepped up to the wall and pounded on it with his palm. "Lazy wizards," he grumbled. The wall was completely solid.

  He scanned the bricks from ceiling to floor. There were deep scratch marks in several locations, as if something tried to dig its way out of this room. But there were no secret passages or hidden doors that the princess might be hiding behind.

  Then something caught his eyes. Bending down, he pushed aside some of the spider guts and lifted a silvery chain with a pair of interlocking circles dangling from the end-the locket he had given to Princess Mariko. The compass had taken him right to it.

  "Damn!" The Claw shouted, kicking the wall. His words echoed through the chamber.

  Finding the princess just became a whole lot tougher.

  He had a way in. He had a way to find the locket. But that was all. He was out of tricks, and time was not on his side.

  The edge of a sharp dagger pressed up against his neck. "That'll be enough shouting," said a woman's deep voice. "Put your hands out where I can see them."

  The Claw straightened up and did as he was told.

  "Well now," said the woman. "It's not every day that you see something like that, now do you?" She slapped one of his bladed gauntlets with a second dagger. "Must be kind of rough, you know, if you need to scratch your eye or something."

  The Claw nodded. "I was just thinking that myself."

  "Were you now?" The woman started frisking him, feeling around his waist, his calves, and near his boots, but keeping her other blade firmly against his neck.

  The Claw started to nod yes, but the sharp edge of the dagger bit into him. He could feel the sting as the metal separated his skin, and he decided it was better to hold still.

  "That's a good boy," she said, clearly noticing his discomfort. "No moving till I say so."

  The Claw let her continue her search. In the pouch on his belt she found the compass that had led him to the locket, three small healing potions, and two flasks of alchemist's fire.

  "You're pretty well armed," she said. "You weren't sent here as a prisoner, were you?"

  "No," replied the Claw, trying his best to not move his throat much.

  "Judging by the make of your clothes and the magic on them blades, I'd say you work for someone with a lot of coin. Perhaps even the king himself."

  "Impressive," said the Claw. Whoever this person was, she reminded him of Princess Mariko-smart, sharp tongued, and dangerous.

  She stopped her search and placed her second blade on his neck. "Now listen real good," she said, whispering in his ear. "I'm gonna release you. And you're gonna turn around. But before you get any bright ideas about sticking me with those pointy gloves of yours, just know this-I can cut off your manhood from thirty paces with just one of these." She wiggled her daggers on his neck. "If you want to know what I can do with two, just use your imagination."

  The blades slipped away from his neck, and he could feel her step away. She didn't make any noise as she moved.

  "Turn around," she said, "and keep your back to the wall."

  Doing as he was told, the Claw turned around and finally got a look at the woman who had held him at knifepoint. She was tall, almost as tall as him, with ragged blonde hair. Her slim half-elf build was accentuated by a suit of black leather armor, fitted tight against her frame by a series of straps and buckles. Her outfit would have been quite impressive, had it not been worn thin at the knees, elbows, and neck, and its snapped buckles retied with bits of leather. Tattered sleeves and torn seams on a woman this capable could mean only one thing: she'd been down here for quite some time.

  The half-elf stood in front of the destroyed spiders, one dagger pointed at him, the other poised above her shoulder, ready to throw. She looked him over, sizing him up, but every few moments she would look behind her, scanning the room, like a burglar watching for guards.

  "Well now," said the Claw, "it's not every day you see something like that." He indicated the intricate strap and buckle system on her suit of armor. "Now do you?"

  She looked down at herself and chuckled. "No," she said. "I suppose you don't."

  "Must be kind of rough," he said, breaking a smile. "You know, taking it off and whatnot."

  "Don't flatter yourself," she said, an evil smile on her face. "Just because you're the first man I've laid eyes on in half a year doesn't mean I'm going to rush into your arms as soon as you look at me all sideways."

  The Claw blushed under his mask. He hadn't meant that the way it sounded.

  "What's your name?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

  "Evelyne," she said. She looked him over once again. "And what do they call you?" "They call me the Claw."

  "The Claw? Well, that's catchy. So listen, Claw, now that we're all friendly, why don't you go ahead and take off that mask of yours, so I can see your face?"

  "Why would you want me to do that? You don't know me."

  Evelyne smiled. "But of course I do. You're the Claw. King Korox's personal assassin."

  "Well, you have me at a disadvantage then. Since all I know about you is your name."

  "Oh, you're at an even bigger disadvantage than that. If you haven't noticed, I've got you at knife point. And even better, I know my way around, and I'll bet both my blades that you don't have a single solitary notion about where you are right now."

  He nodded. "You got me there," he said. "So now what?"

  "Now you take off your mask, so I can see your face. Or we go back to where we were, and I kill you." She cocked her arm even farther, getting ready to throw her blade.

  "Wait. Wait." The Claw dropped into a crouch, ready to defend himself. "I've caused you no harm. You don't want to kill me."

  She took a step closer. "A girl can tell a lot about a man by looking at his face. So I want to see it now, if I'm going to parley with you. If not, you can die."

  "You're making a mistake-"

  His words were cut short by a tremendous hiss. Then the room erupted in sound as a pair of nearby pillars were torn from the floor and ceiling and hurled across the chamber. Three greenish tentacles appeared from behind the pile of spider muck. Each was capped with the head of a serpent or drake-long slithery tongues and mouths full of teeth. They sniffed at the air, focusing in on Evelyne with their white eyes.

  Beside the heads, three more tentacles appeared. Thick and round, they had the suction cups of an octopus on one side, and the scales of a snake on the other. They tapered to a point, and one of them held in its grasp a shattered piece of stone, wielding it like a club. The other two stretched out, reaching over twenty feet, to grab hold of another pillar with their soft suction cups. They contracted, pulling into view the creature's rubbery sphere of a body.

  The beast's round, gray-brown mass must have been at least twice the height of a man. A dozen smallish stalks protruded from the creature's surface-clear white eyes attached to the ends. It held itself suspended over the floor with just the two large tentacles wrapped around the pillars. The other tentacle and the three heads converged on Evelyne, surrounding her from all sides.

  "Get back!" she shouted, waving her daggers at the snapping, hissing heads. "You know I don't taste good."

  The tentacles came at her, all at the same time. She managed to bat one away, and slice another, but the other two were too strong, and Evelyne became quickly overwhelmed. A hissing serpent head clamped onto each arm, biting down and immobilizing her.

  The Claw sprang into action, tumbling into the center of the fight and raking his blades down the entire length of
one tentacle. A single long slice of flesh fell from the creature's body, the suction cups making a slight squish as they hit the floor.

  The head attached to that tentacle hissed and reeled back, releasing Evelyne from its grip.

  The Claw ran to the other side. Jabbing out with his fists, he pierced the snakelike hide and jammed his blades deep into the tentacle. The creature let out another hiss and pulled back, letting go of the half-elf's other arm, but yanking the Claw off his feet-his gauntlet jammed deep inside the beast's body.

  The Claw was dragged across the filth-strewn floor, reddish-brown guts flying everywhere, as he tried to pull himself free. The creature flailed, its hissing turning into more of an angry screech as it flung him side to side, trying in vain to dislodge the bladed human. It smashed him into the ruined half bodies of the giant spiders, sending them rolling and wobbling across the uneven paving stones, leaving a trail of gore behind.

  The creature slammed the Claw against the wall-upside down. Pulling himself over, he kicked his feet into the air, bracing them against the solid stone. With all of his might, he yanked down on his blades, using the wall as leverage. His razor-sharp gauntlets slipped through the flesh and came out the other side, and the Claw fell to the floor, finally free.

  The round, rubbery abomination pulled back. Its tentacle was almost completely severed in two. Wrapping it against its body, the head hissed in the Claw's direction. Then the entire beast convulsed, its round core expanding and contracting in an undulating motion. Its eyes, protruding from its body on narrow stalks, darted this way and that, scanning the entire room.

  Lowering its body close to the floor, it seemed to strain its muscles, as if laboring with something difficult. The pillars it held between two powerful tentacles cracked under the pressure, sending stone and dust tinkling to the floor. With one final push, the creature opened its backside and deposited a huge, silvery-white sack on the ground. Then the beast retreated, gripping the pillars with its tentacles and pulling itself through the room.

 

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