The Rod of Seven Parts

by Douglas Niles

  "Let's have a look," Barzyn declared. Dallzar fell into step beside his fellow dwarf, with Hestrill following. The mage raised the wand and its glowing gem of light overhead, though now the spot of illumination seemed dim and futile against the enclosing darkness.

  Saysi and I followed a half dozen steps behind the magic-user, and Benton brought up the rear. The barbarian kept his eyes toward that ominously silent door, as if he expected it to leap off its hinges at any moment to join the legion of enemies ranked against us.

  The dwarves reached the bend in the corridor and, since the glow of the light spell cast their shadows before them and canceled any chance of surprise, charged around the corner in tandem. I heard them skid to a halt as Hestrill followed. The fact that they didn't cry out in alarm I took as a good omen as Saysi and I hurried after.

  The corridor debouched into a large, square chamber. In the center of the big room stood a raised stone hearth, with a brazier of coals resting atop the flat platform. I knew the fire was hot because the room was warm, and a glow of cherry red seeped upward from the iron mouth of the kettle, clearly visible even in the brightness of Hestrill's spell.

  The corners of the room remained shrouded in shadow, but the lanky wizard raised his wand high, and the light revealed a bare floor and smooth walls utterly lacking any suggestion of alcove or doorway. The only obvious feature of the chamber was that high, blocklike hearth. An air of reeking mustiness, like ancient carrion, pervaded the place, and suddenly I wanted very desperately to be someplace—anyplace—else.

  "Stay here," muttered Barzyn to the rest of us as he and Dallzar started forward. The dwarves split up, one going to either side of the hearth, which rose to about my eye level from the floor.

  Suddenly Dallzar stumbled violently backward, choking out a surprised curse as he smashed to the floor. The dwarf's back arched and he clutched at his throat, making horrible gurgling sounds. With a shuddering exhalation, he relaxed abruptly, stretching utterly still on the floor.

  The little cleric darted forward, but I seized her arm, pulling her back as a face materialized from the shadows beyond the brazier. The visage was somewhat human, yet beastly and unspeakably hateful. Cruel yellow eyes, slitted like a snake's, reflected brightly in the light of the spell.

  Saysi and I tumbled to the floor as I barely caught a glimpse of red stripes and a long, whiplike body. The monster's leap at Saysi was foiled by my grab, though wicked fangs gleamed a few inches from the terrified priestess's face as a snakelike form gathered again into a seething coil.

  "Naga!" cried Hestrill, swinging his wand downward.

  The snake body writhed, supple coils slithering sideways across the floor. The crimson lines were formed of blood-red scales and rippled the length of a sinuous body that was otherwise inky black. The snake's body was as thick as one of Benton's thighs, merging into the humanlike head and face, with no suggestion of a narrowed neck.

  The naga coiled like a cobra, rearing high, and only then did I get a clear look at the awful visage. The mouth gaped, revealing twin fangs more lethal than any viper's, the tips still crimson with Dallzar's blood. Strings of dark hair plastered across a scalp so pasty white that it might have been bleached bone. The naga hissed a sibilant cackle, sending the stench of death wafting through the room, a putrid stink that made Barzyn's garlic-tainted halitosis seem like the first breath of spring.

  Hestrill started to chant something, but the naga made the next move. The monster spat a word that plunged the entire chamber into darkness. I grabbed Saysi's arm—or maybe I'd never let go; I wasn't entirely sure. In any event, I pulled her away from the snakelike horror, stumbling across the smooth floor, striving to place the blocky hearth between us and the monster.

  I heard a heavy smash, recognizing the resonance of Benton's mighty broadsword bouncing off stone after a missed blow. The barbarian cursed in a low voice, then grunted something inarticulate between his clenched teeth. He dropped his treasured blade with a sudden clash of metal, and the echoes still rang through the room as a heavy thunk followed the sound of the fallen sword. Without a shred of doubt, I knew that Benton's poisoned body had slammed into the floor.

  More sounds jabbered through the room as Hestrill tried another spell. Bolts of crackling light sizzled as a series of sparking magic missiles seared from the wizard's fingers into the naga's body. The monster hissed furiously—and abruptly the arcane arrows spattered against an invisible barrier, fizzling into cascades of sparks just before the naga's face.

  In the glow of the fading spell, I reached up and knocked the iron brazier off the hearth. The basin tumbled to the floor with a resounding crash, scattering glowing coals across the stones. As the last missiles sputtered out, the crimson glow filtered upward, providing minimal illumination.

  Barzyn rushed around the hearth, charging the naga with upraised axe. The monster slashed forward, and the dwarf hacked, almost connecting, but the supple snake writhed out of the way before coiling again in the mouth of the corridor where we'd entered. I saw Benton's body, as limp and still as Dallzar's, sprawled on the floor.

  Hestrill tried to chant another spell, but I watched in horror as the wide, glowing eyes of the naga settled onto the magic-user's face. His words trailed into an incoherent mutter, and his arms dropped vaguely to his sides.

  "Hestrill!" cried Saysi, who would once again have rushed into the jaws of death except for my firm grip on her arm.

  "Let me go!" she demanded, twisting with remarkable strength for her small size. Her tone lacked any sense of gratitude for my role in saving her life, but I merely held tighter, pulling her behind the stony hearth. I wanted to attack, but my own short sword, a keen enough blade that I had dubbed Goldfinder, seemed puny and useless against this scaly, coiling horror.

  I raised my eyes enough to see the naga spring forward, driving those wicked fangs into Hestrill's gut. With a depressed sigh—as if he'd just learned some very bad news, which was a pretty accurate assessment of his circumstances—the skinny young mage sank to his knees, then sprawled like a rag doll, face first onto the floor.

  "Die, snake!" cried Barzyn, once more rushing the naga, his body tense with fury.

  "Do something!" Saysi hissed, finally twisting free from my grip. I could only watch, horrified, as the dwarf slashed and swiped at the snakelike horror.

  The naga twisted out of the way, glaring at Barzyn, trying to entrance him with those wide, luminous eyes. The dwarf thwarted the monster as Barzyn kept his own glowering gaze focused on the naga's thick, scaly body, slashing again and again with his broad-bladed axe.

  "Look out!" I shouted, seeing the lashing tail whip toward Barzyn's legs. Scrambling onto the hearth, I clenched my short sword with aching fingers and squatted amid the scattered coals. Terror threatened to paralyze me, but I knew that I had to strike now or Barzyn would be killed and the naga would be left in here with just the two of us halflings. Miserably I looked for a chance to attack.

  The dwarf skipped backward, barely avoiding the tail that whipped past his shins. Hissing with a sound like a roaring fireplace, the naga twisted away from his slicing axe blow. Once again the creature's fetid breath filled the room, a gagging cloud of filthy vapor. The serpentine body flowed quickly, evilly, into a monstrous coil, head rearing and mouth agape.

  Barzyn retreated until he was trapped in a corner of the room. I heard Saysi scuttling behind me and felt pretty certain that she was going to do something stupid, like charge the big snake and get herself killed in the process. Stifling a groan, I knew I couldn't let that happen.

  The naga's head whipped back, like a bowstring tensed for the shot. Swaying back and forth, the monster fastened its eyes upon the dwarf, waiting for an opening. When the scaly neck reared close to the hearth, I knew I wouldn't get a better chance.

  I sprang from the stone platform with Goldfinder extended before me, aiming for that black-scaled neck. With agonizing slowness, I flew through the air, until the tip of the weapon pierced the monste
r's body and the naga shrieked in rage and pain. Consumed by panic, I tumbled to the floor, feeling the hilt of my sword slip from my grasp.

  The weapon remained wedged in the wound as I fell into those hideous coils. A scaly tail curled around my legs, pinning me, and I flailed blindly with my hands in deadly fear of those killer fangs. The stench of death surrounded me, and my mind flashed a gruesome thought—the sensation that I was smelling my own corpse.

  Something heavy fell across my chest, and I grasped the naga around the neck, desperate to hold the venomous bite at bay. The snakelike body shuddered, and I felt the pressure pinioning my legs relax. Still my jaws remained clenched, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, as I waited for the deadly touch.

  Gradually I realized the naga wasn't squeezing, wasn't moving at all. I squinted through one eye and saw that I held the scaly body well down from the neck. If it had been able to move, the monster could have bitten me without any regard for my frantic defense. The snake, however, was never going to bite anyone again.

  "Thanks, Kip," Barzyn grunted, limping over to me. He kicked at the scaly neck, flipping the horrid face onto the floor. My short sword, buried to the hilt, jutted from the back of the creature's neck. With a shudder of revulsion, I twisted free from the cold coils, still shivering as I watched the dwarf place a heavy foot on the naga's head and give Goldfinder a pull.

  The weapon came free, and Barzyn wiped the black blood on the body before holding it, hilt first, toward me. I took it automatically, scrubbing the shiny steel against my own tunic before I was willing to slide the blade back into my scabbard.

  Saysi, meanwhile, checked Dallzar, Hestrill, and Benton. Her eyes were wet with tears as she knelt beside the big barbarian, then rose to her feet and shook her head.

  "What do we do now?" I asked, trying not to look at the bodies.

  "Let's have a look around," Barzyn said. "Maybe there's another way out of here, or something we can use."

  I kicked the embers from the spilled brazier into a small pile against the hearth. Like most halflings, my feet were tough, protected by fur and calluses. Though some of the coals were still hot and glowing, even hissing against my skin, I suffered no burns. Fortunately the embers still cast enough light for Saysi and I to see; Barzyn's keen dwarven eyesight would have functioned even in utter darkness.

  For a few minutes, we went around the walls of the room, feeling for a niche in the bricks, or any kind of irregularity that might have indicated a secret door, concealed passage, or anything else that might offer some hope. The dwarf went into the short, L-shaped entry corridor where the light from the coals didn't penetrate, while Saysi looked around the base of the squat, squarish hearth.

  When we didn't find anything but cold, impervious stone, we started looking over the floor. Crossing the place I had just cleared of coals, I was startled by a small chip of darkness—something separate from the smooth stone. Curious, I bent over, then saw that it was only a stub of stick, shiny black on the surface but no more than a few inches long. Wondering at first if it was a remnant of coal, I realized on second thought that it seemed too regular and had a noticeably shinier surface than any of the embers.

  "Was this here a minute ago?" I asked Saysi as she came around the hearth. "I thought I kicked all the coals off of this part of the floor, but then I turned around to find it."

  "It doesn't look like anything that could help us," Barzyn declared sourly, clumping back into the large room. He shook his head, grim-faced. "I tried the door out there. It's still barred, but I couldn't hear anything on the other side. It's like they locked us in here, then climbed back up the stairs and left us to rot."

  "Good plan," I declared disgustedly. "I don't see that we've got much choice."

  Already the dark chip of wood was forgotten as I entered the short corridor, feeling with my hands when I turned the corner into utter darkness. The door was cold and firm, as immovable as before. I pressed my ear to the chilly iron and listened.

  Barzyn was right—there was no sound, not even the surreptitious breathing of a lone ogre sentry. Then my heart caught, almost ceasing to beat as I heard something. Trilling musically along, the sound was clear and bright, suggestive of a mountain stream, perhaps, or splashing brook.

  I reached down and touched the floor, confirming my worst fears as water spilled under the iron door, quickly washing over my feet. Now I knew why the grate was down there. By the time I trotted back to the large room, surging liquid flowed the length of the short hallway, rushing across the floor. Thinking fast, Saysi used her buckler to scoop the remaining embers into the iron brazier, barely saving our light source before water swirled across the room to cover the entire floor.

  The sound of the flow rushing under the door increased to a rumble, filling the damp air with hissing sound and mist. By the time it had risen to our ankles, I had a pretty good idea why there were no ogres hanging around at the bottom of the stairwell.

  And the water continued to rise.

  CHAPTER 2

  HALFLINGS AFLOAT

  The water swirled around my thighs as I helped Saysi onto the stone platform that had supported the brazier. Wide-eyed, she held her hand to her throat. I knew that her tiny fist clenched the jade amulet of her holy symbol, the hollow octagon ring of Patrikon.

  "Can't budge the door," Barzyn declared grimly, sloshing back to join us. By this time, water reached my torso and still splashed upward. I leaped and kicked, sprawling half atop the hearth. A hand groped mine, and Saysi pulled me fully onto the solid block of stone.

  Lying on my back, I wiped my eyes and sputtered, trying to draw a full breath. A shadowy outline darkened the ceiling over my head. I blinked and stared, realizing that—though the embers in the brazier continued to glow—the black square marked a gap in the ceiling where no light could be reflected.

  "A chimney!" I muttered. "Of course! The smoke from the brazier has to go someplace!"

  "Eh?" Barzyn pushed over to the hearth and climbed up beside us, wringing out his beard with both hands as he turned his dark-sensitive eyes upward. "Yer right!"

  "A way out?" wondered Saysi, standing and probing upward with her stout stick. The club clanked heavily against something metal and my heart sank.

  "Bars," grumbled the dwarf, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "There's a grate across the chimney."

  "No!" I didn't want to believe it, but it made perfect sense. No self-respecting goblin would have left such an easy way into, or out of, his lair.

  "Let me have a closer look." Stretching upward, Barzyn reached into the darkness. The water swirled and frothed just below the level of the hearth as Saysi and I stood to either side, helping the dwarf balance.

  I could see the grate now: a series of rusty bars, no more than a handspan or so apart, running from one side of the chimney entrance to the other.

  Grunting, Barzyn grasped one of the bars and yanked. "Damn!" he muttered, quickly releasing that rod in favor of a neighboring shaft of iron. My heart quickened at the sound of a rasping scrape, and I could see the dwarf twisting and tugging, moving the bar very slightly.

  "Can you get it out?" I asked as water rushed across the surface of the hearth. Now the iron kettle and the three of us were the only features sticking above the tempestuous surface. The flow through the hallway continued unabated, more and more water flooding into our dead-end room.

  "Here!" shouted the dwarf in sudden triumph, pulling downward. One end of the bar came free, and the sinews in Barzyn's strapping forearms stood out like steel cords as he twisted. Gritting his teeth, he slowly bent the shaft out of the way, one bar sticking straight downward, jutting from the shadowy chimney.

  The opening still looked terribly narrow. I could only hope that Saysi, at least, could squeeze through. "Bend another one!" I urged, as if Barzyn wasn't doing enough on his own.

  Again the burly dwarf seized a bar, and once more his teeth clenched and his muscles knotted in tension. Jaw set firmly, red beard bristling, Barzyn pull
ed. Rivulets of moisture trickled from his brow, streaming through the furrows of his ruddy skin. Even the veins in his forehead bulged, until abruptly he let go, slumping backward. Frantically I grasped his shoulder as the dwarf sank to one knee and drew ragged gasps of air.

  Sudden hissing signaled further bad news as the water slopped over the top of the brazier and our feeble illumination was doused. In the sudden blackness, I felt a complete blanket of despair and was on the verge of giving up when I felt Saysi's hand on my shoulder.

  "Help me," she said, in a voice that was remarkably composed for the circumstances.

  "Do what?" I grunted, still despairing.

  "Maybe, at least, we'll be able to see something—just don't let me fall."

  I grabbed the tiny priestess around her waist and held firm against the force of the current washing across the hearth. Even on the platform, we were already waist-deep in cold water, and it rose higher with each passing heartbeat. The stone block seemed perilously small—a single false step, a tiny slip, could plunge us into deep, churning water.

  Saysi started to chant something—a prayer to Patrikon, I recognized, though I've never been able to tell one of her incantations from another. Whatever the spell, it could only help.

  "Come on," I whispered inaudibly. "You can do it!"

  I believed it, too. Throughout our year together, Saysi had proven herself a halfling of courage and steady nerves. Although she was a trifle rigid about some—well, most—aspects of morality, that was only to be expected in a priestess of law. And even her strict code of morals was softened by a bright sense of humor and refreshing enthusiasm. Now, her slim hips warm and firm under my hands, I regretted the strict code of behavior that had prevented this delightful maiden from yielding to my usually irresistible advances. Not that I hadn't tried...