by Elliott Kay
“He’s a priest,” said Yargol.
“I’m neither,” said War Cloud.
Shady Tooth let out a grunt. “He’s a heretic.”
“That may be true.” The gnoll worked with Scars to pull away bits of thread and torn leather from DigDig’s clothes. “I can stop the bleeding. But I can’t do anything for the pain.”
“Tough,” DigDig wheezed. “I can take it. Tough.”
“Damn right you are,” said Scars.
Standing over them, Yargol accepted a couple of rags found amid the table debris from Teryn. Shady Tooth was less delicate in her choices, freely tearing away the tattered clothes of the ghouls. With little more than a whispered word and a flourish of his hand, Yargol turned each piece from filth to freshly clean and handed it back.
“We’ll need heat,” said War Cloud. He produced a dagger, wrapping its handle in one rag before holding it out in front of Yargol. “Enough to burn flesh. Don’t be delicate about it.”
“I thought this might be your plan,” said the magician. He tilted the blade with two fingers to create a safe line of fire. Like his spell for cleaning rags, his Icefire Daggers required no more than a grunted word and a flick of the wrist. He struck the dagger three times, each of his icicles bursting with hot water against the metal before War Cloud pulled it back with satisfaction.
“Give him something to bite,” the gnoll instructed.
“I’ve got it.” Shady Tooth crouched to put her leather-clad wrist in front of DigDig’s face. The little goblin glanced at it only once before clamping onto her bracer like an angry predator. She wrapped her other arm around his shoulders. She knew what was coming.
Scars understood, too. He sat with his legs over the goblin’s. With no other way to help, their newest companion knelt beside DigDig to whisper encouragement: “You’ll be okay,” said Teryn. “You’re going to pull through.”
DigDig turned his head to look up at her in surprise. He wasn’t the only one.
“What?” asked Teryn.
“They’re not used to that kind of talk,” said Scars.
“You mean encouragement?”
“Is that what it is?” asked Shady Tooth. “You’re like a mother cat with one of her young. Are you going to lick him, too?”
“I’m only trying to—”
DigDig yelped into his bit of leather and tensed in agony. There wasn’t much of a hiss, but the crew all smelled his burnt flesh. War Cloud noted the shocked looks as he lifted the blade away to inspect his work. “You had him distracted,” he explained. “Better that than all the suspense. I hoped he would pass out, though. Keep holding him. I’ve got a couple more to go.”
“We all need to rest. Especially DigDig. Can we stay here?” Shady Tooth asked while War Cloud continued his work.
“Is anything else likely to come through those doors?” Teryn put in.
Scars shook his head. “There’s a solid wall in the back of that chamber. The dwarves built it as a storage room for the prison. It doesn’t go anywhere.” He grimaced as DigDig tensed again with the final application of War Cloud’s dagger. “The back room isn’t the problem. We did all this to buy ourselves time to go lower and get away from those adventurers. The ghouls should make this level slower-going for them. But that’s all for nothing if they find us here.”
“And now our guide is incapacitated,” noted Yargol.
“Can guide,” murmured DigDig. Shady Tooth pulled her wrist back, her leather bracer marked by little punctures from his teeth. “Might go slower, but…can still…guide.”
Teryn looked down at him in awe. “How could he even walk after this?”
“He can’t. But he’d be left behind by anyone else,” said Shady Tooth. Her eyes flashed from DigDig to Teryn, then Scars. “Only we decided those ways don’t work for us. Right?”
“Right. New rule. We don’t leave anyone behind,” said Scars. Like Shady Tooth, he looked to the human beside them.
“Anyone?” she asked.
“Anyone in the crew.”
Teryn nodded. “Let me grab my things.”
Chapter Five
Shady Tooth emerged from the bottom of a narrow spiral staircase into a dark hall long unused. She needed no light to see at least a short distance. Colors were indistinguishable in such darkness, but her kind could still manage in these conditions. The last addition to the crew was not so fortunate. That meant allowing her some light, which put one more hindrance on their stealth. Even if the human could sneak, she still needed to see.
With DigDig unable to lead, she was the sensible choice as a scout. Her senses were sharpest. Like DigDig, she was agile and fast, but her size and strength set her apart from the little goblin. She would last longer against any opponent they might stumble across.
Above all, she was stealthy. Though no one in the group was particularly noisy, the armor worn by War Cloud and Scars couldn’t be kept entirely silent. Fatigued and burdened with gear and a wounded goblin, the group moved about as quietly as she could hope.
She didn’t expect anything more. She even made use of their shortcomings. Their footfalls and whispered words kept her from moving too far ahead. Their conversation also gave her more to consider about her companions.
She’d heard promises of loyalty before. It all sounded great until put to the test. “Crew” sounded good, too—assuming it was earned.
“So none of you have been down here before?” asked Teryn.
“Never by this way, no,” said Scars. “I’ve only been down to this level a couple of times. Not by choice, either.”
“Most others would say the same. Zuck restricted his operations to the upper tier. It’s too dangerous below,” added Yargol.
“I don’t even really know where we are,” said Teryn.
“We are in the lost holy city of Thrandor, last ruled by the Gruff and Dour StoneLord Gareth Duncan Alfred Flintbeard, Patron of Clan Ironhall,” said Yargol. “Have you heard of it?”
“Can’t say that I have, which seems odd. I’m no sage, but I’m educated.”
“The gap in your education is no oversight by your teachers,” Yargol explained. “Thrandor was lost to the First Darkness roughly a thousand years ago. The dwarves and elves fought to reclaim it from the undead, who later resurged, and so on. Eventually, the dwarves deemed the halls irretrievably cursed. They culled the name of Thrandor from records and letters. It was mentioned less and less as centuries passed until it became a nameless myth.”
“Why would they do that?”
“The First Darkness and all that followed claimed too many lives, especially in these halls. Yet the cause was too great to be abandoned. They had no hope of victory, but could not turn away. They had already paid too much to give up a struggle they could not win.”
“Merchants call it a sunken-cost fallacy,” muttered Scars.
“Why, yes,” said Yargol, sounding surprised. “They do. And philosophers. After countless losses, the dwarven kings and priests recognized it for what it was. They could not declare defeat and face the resulting shame, so they worked toward something better: they delayed, they looked away, and they quietly worked to render Thrandor forgotten.”
Shady Tooth heard it all. She couldn’t blame them for talking. Everyone was worn out. With luck, an enemy who heard the crew coming wouldn’t detect the threat that ranged out ahead of them.
Focusing more on the task at hand, Shady Tooth turned right at the base of the stairs to creep down the hall. A thin layer of dust covered the stone tiles. As the others said, these halls were once inhabited, but they were rarely used now.
“Olen Zuck has ruled here for only a handful of years,” Yargol continued. “A millennium is a long time for any curse to hold to full strength, after all. He found the upper levels largely empty and quiet, so he worked to secure them as his hold. He made alterations to protect against a resurgence from below. And he has decidedly not ventured too deep.”
“Unlike us,” said War Cloud.
“What’s that?” Scars asked.
They were nearly out of the stairway. Shady Tooth could tell by their voices and footsteps. She picked up her pace, not wanting to be caught as a silhouette against the light from their glowstones. At least the stones didn’t give off the scent of smoke. That could leave them even more exposed than the light.
She tried none of the doors waiting to either side as she continued on. DigDig had warned of locks stuck tight after ages of disuse, leading only to empty rooms beyond. All of these dwarven homes had been ransacked long ago, anyway. Too many people had come through here over the ages. Too many people and too many monsters. Nothing of value remained. Nothing but dust.
Shady Tooth came upon an intersection of passageways. The dust gathered as thickly here as the rest of the hall. Could it have blown in from the other passage? The air felt completely still.
“Hard to believe so much of this place has held up like this for almost a thousand years,” said War Cloud. “There are still tools. Skeletons. Wood still stands.”
“More than one curse lingers over these halls,” said Yargol. “Decay is often a process of life. As DigDig warned, the lower levels hold no life at all. Time has left its mark, but not as thoroughly as one would expect.”
Yargol’s words slowed Shady Tooth at the intersection. The dust grew thicker here. Didn’t dust only turn up where people still lived? Didn’t it mostly come from people?
“Alt…traps,” DigDig coughed.
“DigDig?” Scars asked. “What is it?”
Her eyes narrowed. The dust gathered most at the little gaps between stone tiles, like the one right by her foot.
“Traps,” DigDig wheezed, then repeated louder: “Traps! Floor traps!”
Shady Tooth jerked her foot back as it touched the next tile. Blades sprang out in crossing arcs from the crack between the tile and the one she stood upon. Two more swept out from the crack behind her, along with yet another pair from the other side of the next tile. All stood upright once sprung, reaching as tall as her hip. However long they’d lain in wait, they surely hadn’t lost their edge.
She froze, restricting every movement down to her very breath until she was sure the danger had passed. Nothing happened. She heard no noises from the passageways other than the rushing footsteps of her comrades. This is why I prefer the wilderness, she thought. Shady Tooth straightened to her full height while releasing her tense breath. Rather than pressing on, she waited.
Her collection of allies caught up fast. They at least seemed concerned for her, wearing faces of worry and alarm rather than irritation. Other companions would have seen only the obstacle of the traps and the opportunity to criticize her for setting them off. At best, she was tolerated by the hunting parties and the guard details.
Get out of the dungeon first. See if they come running when you’re in trouble then.
They slowed as soon as the edge of the light fell across her image. The concern on their faces seemed real enough. Even the human looked worried, as did the half-orc carrying the wounded goblin in his arms. “You’re alright,” said Scars.
“Barely,” said Shady Tooth. She gestured to the tall blades standing to her either side. “And only because I heard you talking before you shouted. DigDig, you couldn’t remember this when you gave your directions?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Used to it.”
“Used to—this is normal for you?” Teryn blinked.
The little goblin shrugged weakly. “Yeah.”
“Why are these even here?” asked War Cloud. “Didn’t the dwarves live here?”
“They were installed during the First Darkness, and during an invasion of goblin folk before that,” said Yargol. “It’s in the archives. The dwarves meant to disable them once they secured the halls again. It never came to pass.”
“I wouldn’t have survived this,” Shady Tooth pressed, her eyes still on DigDig. “How many more blade traps are there? Do you know?”
“Some. They’re scattered. Never saw a pattern.” He winced. “Sorry about before. Tried to remember. Tried. Tired.”
Shady Tooth scowled. She wasn’t used to apologies, and those she’d heard were rarely worth anything. His had the weight of apparent regret and clear credibility. It was believable. Her doubt only made her angrier.
“We can’t keep on like this,” she said.
“You’re doing fine,” said Scars.
“I’m not. I don’t have a sense for traps or secret doors. Maybe I’m quiet, but I’m also big and unsure of these halls. This time I was lucky. The next trap could get me. Or all of us.”
“I’ll take the lead,” said War Cloud.
“You’re even less suited to being up front,” said Shady Tooth. “Quiet as you are, that armor would give us away. The human can’t see in the dark and Yargol doesn’t have the skills, either.”
“Then I’ll lead,” said Scars.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. We need to rest. A real rest this time, not a break while the captain isn’t watching. We need our guide back on his feet and the rest of us ready to fight again.”
“She has a point,” War Cloud spoke up. “A couple of rats could finish us off given the shape we’re in. Especially with our magician drained and my own powers spent.”
“We can’t stop now. We’re leaving a trail behind us,” Scars noted, looking back the way they came. He paused before turning around again. “Wait. Why aren’t there footprints?”
“Zuck enjoyed making the most mundane use of my talents,” Yargol explained. “I’ve cast no other spell as often as I’ve used the simplest cantrips to clean. I hardly need to make more than a whisper or a gesture now. It takes no more energy than walking. And if I can clean up dirt, I can surely put the dirt back just as easily.”
“He’s right,” said Teryn. “I’m a decent tracker, but I can’t see a trace of our passage.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ve made a mistake or fallen short somewhere. But I’ve erased the worst signs of our passing,” said Yargol.
“Then we’ve covered our tracks and built some distance, and we’ve left plenty of trouble for our pursuers,” Shady Tooth pressed. “These passages hold dwarven homes behind closed doors. We’ve got to be able to get into at least one of them, don’t we?”
“Some will open,” answered DigDig. “Not all, but some. Only have to look and try.”
Scars relented with little more than the drop of his shoulders. “Fine. You’re not wrong. We’ll move on from here before we find a place, though. An intersection is too worthy of searching, especially one that is trapped. They’ll assume the blades are here to protect something.” Then his eyes narrowed as he looked to the blades. “DigDig…can these traps be reset?”
* * *
“Locked and jammed,” said War Cloud. He stood up straight, his head scraping the ceiling of the dwarven home. The bits of wood stuffed under the door offered an extra difficulty for intruders. Scraps of cloth prevented any light from escaping through the gaps. “No tracks leading here. We’re off the main path. There’s nothing special about the other side. Think we’re good?”
Uncertain glances flew between War Cloud, Scars, and Shady Tooth. In wordless unison, they turned to the old cabinet against the closest adjoining wall. Age had left it weakened and looting had left it bare, but it was still a heavy bit of wood. Moving it into place against the door required only a minor struggle and a reminder of their own weary muscles. The low ceiling of the dwarven home prevented anyone from lifting it high enough for comfort.
Shady Tooth wondered if she might be lifting the greatest share before the job was finished. Her companions winced and grunted. She felt a wobble from the right side, where Scars held his breath for the last few inches. Nobody wanted to drag the thing and potentially make noise, but for a moment Shady Tooth dreaded a crash instead. She held the center until she felt her fingers against the floor and only
pulled them back after looking to both of her partners.
With the chore finished, the other two leaned against their opposite corners to catch their breath. Shady Tooth felt vindicated in pushing for this issue. Her companions were strong and hardy warriors, but everyone had their limits. She picked the glowstone up from the floor and set it back in her belt pouch. “Come on. Let’s get settled.”
Shady Tooth led the way down the narrow stone staircase to the home’s lower level. Neither floor offered enough headspace for her, but the bottom was wider and clear of the ancient debris of cracked plates and shattered chairs.
“I hate barricading ourselves in like this,” Scars said in a low voice. “There’s no way out.”
“Another way out gives an enemy another way in,” said Shady Tooth. She pulled aside the tattered, ancient black curtain hanging at the bottom of the steps, revealing the lower room illuminated by more glowstones. “This way we only have to guard against one approach.”
“She’s right,” War Cloud agreed. “We’ll be able to bottleneck anyone who attacks from above, too. Although if any of the ethereal sorts of undead find us down here, we’re fucked.”
“Ethereal?”
“Ghosts. Wraiths. The kind without physical bodies, you know? It’s not like walls are a problem for them.”
Shady Tooth glared, jerking the curtain back into place behind her. “Thanks for that thought. It’ll be so much easier to sleep now.”
Most of the lower floor sat clear of debris. Yargol sat cross-legged on the floor in the center of the chamber, directing invisible hands in the simple work of cleaning the room and banishing the dust. Shady Tooth recognized a much greater feat of magic as her eyes fell to the other side of the room. DigDig lay in a bed against the wall, complete with blankets and pillows. Though simple and humble, the bed seemed extravagant compared to every other bit of furniture lying in ruins. DigDig’s armor and pack sat in a pile beside the bed. Teryn leaned over him to check his bandages.
The hearth built into the far wall had likely been cold for centuries. It would remain so for its temporary guests. No one could risk such a beacon tonight, no matter how much good it might do everyone.