"What do I do?" she hissed at Shay, without taking her eyes from the weapon.
"How should I know?" he whispered back, fear edging his voice.
"Well, we have to do something!"
"Wait," he said more calmly, moving a careful half-step closer. "If I can hit the blade squarely it might—"
The sword flashed past Avari with lightning speed. Before she could turn, the ring of metal striking metal sang off the walls and she heard a thunk as something heavy hit the floor. She turned, expecting to see her friend's body crumpled at her feet. To her surprise Shay was still standing, but staring aghast at the haft of his hammer; the length of metal had been cleaved just above his grip. What had hit the floor was the weapon's head, not, thankfully, Shay's.
"Well, so much for that idea," Avari said. She eased her grip on the hilt of her sword; after seeing the result of Shay's threat of violence she did not dare raise it, even to sheathe it. "How about we just back out of here slowly."
"Sounds g-good," Shay agreed, taking a faltering step back.
But the blade moved again, interposing itself between them and the exit. It wavered toward Shay, then back to Avari, as if trying to decide which one of them it would slice to ribbons first. Finally it stopped and centered itself once again on Avari's chest. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, whispering a prayer to Eloss the Defender. Her breath came sharply as she felt a prick on her chest, but then she heard Shay's gasp and opened her eyes. There, not a foot from her hung the sword; but the end closest to her was the pommel, not the blade.
*Go ahead an' take it lass; it ain't gonna bite ye.*
"What?" Avari hissed at Shay, irritated at his offhand tone.
"What do you mean 'what'?" the priest whispered back, just as irritated. "I didn't say anything."
"Then who—"
*Me words are jist fer yer own ears, lass, not those o' the elf. Now go ahead an' take the thing, afore I change me mind an' let it loose on ye'!*
"Don't!" Shay gasped as she reached out and took the hilt in her hand.
As Avari's palm contacted the hilt, warmth spread up her arm and throughout her body, centering on her chest. The blade eased into her hand, forcing her to sheathe her other sword and take a proper two-handed grip. The weight of the weapon settled into her stance and, rather than being cumbersome and unwieldy, felt like a natural extension of her body.
"I... Thank you," she said, her voice less than a whisper.
"What?" Shay was clearly concerned and more than a little irritated. "Thank who?"
*Don't be thankin' me, lass. Ye should be thankin' the blade itself fer chosin' ye like it did, and not cuttin' ye to pieces as it almost did yer friend. Its name is Gaulengil, by the way. I suggest ye use it.*
"But, who—"
*Ye needn't be concernin' yerself with me name. Jist ye remember, Gaulengil has taken ye fer a master now, but take care; when ye draw it, it must taste the blood o' yer enemies afore it be sheathed again. 'Tis not for play, and not for show; if it does not drink, the master's blood may serve.*
As the voice in her head faded, she knew it had spoken its last. She became aware of her surroundings and realized that Shay no longer stood at her side. She scanned the room and spied him kneeling near one of the sarcophagi. He seemed well enough, and Gaulengil tugged her urgently toward another of the stone coffins, so she let the priest be and moved to comply.
A dwarf's full-length image smiled up at her from the stone lid, his eyes closed, his face peaceful. He had been uncommonly tall, if DoHeney were an apt comparison. Across the lid rested a plain black scabbard. She picked it up and started to slide the sword home, but stopped, the final words of Gaulengil's previous master echoing in her mind: "If it does not drink, the master's blood may serve."
On impulse she drew her left thumb lightly across the razor edge, just enough to draw blood. To her horror and amazement, the blood seeped into the metal of the blade, leaving no trace. After a moment staring, a cramp in her shoulder made her realize that she was holding the sword in a strangling grip. Avari took several breaths to calm herself, then slid the enormous weapon into its scabbard.
Crossing the room to Shay, she noticed that he now sat on the floor, legs straight in front of him, a hammer resting across his lap. She touched him lightly on the shoulder. He did not start, but slowly looked up at her, his face streaked with tears.
"He called to me," the half-elf croaked, obviously overcome by the experience. "He was a priest. He said that we were brothers, if not by blood, then by duty. He told me to take this and use it as it was meant to be used."
Avari patted him on the shoulder, then helped him up. The hammer he hefted looked more like a sledge than a proper war hammer, with a rectangular head of black metal fully three hands long and one wide. It looked unwieldy, but Shay seemed to handle it easily and showed no desire to put it down.
"Come on, let's get back to the others," she said, only now realizing that DoHeney and Jundag were missing, though she didn't remember how they had become separated. But her suggestion only seemed to exasperate the priest.
"Don't you see?" His voice was shrill with emotion. "They can feel it. The evil all around us. For eighty-seven years they have endured it when they should have been resting in peace! That is why they gave us these." He flipped the hammer from hand to hand as if it were a broomstick. "A chance to defeat the evil is worth the price, any price, if only to be free of this pit of loathing."
"Then we have a great deal of work to do, my friend," Avari said. She clasped him by the shoulder once again and they moved to the exit. "To repay them for these won't be easy."
"If it is possible at all," Shay murmured.
After they passed over the lintel to the outer hallway, the great bronze doors swung closed, the golden glow fading even before it was shut from view.
Avari and Shay found their companions crouched just inside the exit to the tomb, vacant looks on their faces, as if they hadn't even realized that their friends had been gone. They stood and seemed to shake off their lethargy, then DoHeney noticed Gaulengil slung over Avari's shoulder.
"An' what in the name o' the Maker do ye think ye're doin' wi' that?" he growled, reaching for the weapon. "Here'n I find ye robbin' the dead o' their treasures. Why, I've half a mind to—"
"DoHeney, please—" Avari interrupted, jerking the sword out of his reach. The dwarf's face reddened and he waved off her explanations, reaching for his daggers. At his threatening gesture, Avari felt a pulse of urging from the sword. NO! she thought. These are my friends. They are not to be harmed!
Jundag growled at the dwarf, bringing his longsword halfway out of its scabbard. This did nothing to quell DoHeney's raging temper, but did get his hands away from his weapons. Even though enraged, the dwarf knew he was no match for the tall tribesman in a head-to-head fight.
"Ye'll be puttin' that right back where ye got it, lass," DoHeney snarled through clenched teeth.
"These were gifts, DoHeney." Shay's voice was calm, but he held his newly acquired hammer easily in one hand. The dwarf's eyes bulged when he saw the weapon.
"Ye, also then, eh? Why, yer both nothin' but a couple o' grave robbin'—"
Shay's free hand shot out, crumpling the thick leather of DoHeney's vest and jerking him off his feet. The priest stuck the head of his hammer, now blazing with fiery crimson runes, right up to the dwarf's nose for inspection.
"Now, feel the power o' this weapon, me lad!" Shay croaked in a voice not at all his own. "De ye think he could take somethin' like this unless it was given freely?"
The dwarf shook his head, unable to tear his gaze from the runes glowing in front of his face. The dwarven characters for Earth and Power blazed in crimson fire, burning themselves into the dwarf's mind. Jundag took a step back, his sword clearing its scabbard as he made a warding sign with his free hand.
"Demons!" the tribesman spat. "They've possessed him!"
"No," Avari gasped, grasping Shay's arm with both hands.
"Shay! It's me, Shay!" She pulled down on the arm that held the dwarf aloft, but all her strength could not budge him. In fact, it seemed that all of her own weight and that of the dwarf were not enough to faze the priest. "Shay!" she pleaded again, reaching to pull his face to hers, forcing him to meet her gaze. But when their eyes met she found no trace of the charming half-elf she knew. Panic sprang to her heart for a moment, then the strangeness faded and Shay's face softened. He dropped DoHeney, then looked around in consternation.
"I... I'm sorry, I..." he stammered. "It was the weapon. It has great power, and more than a little of its previous master in it still, I am afraid."
"It is demon-cursed and should be destroyed!" Jundag snapped, still brandishing his naked sword.
"Nay, lad." DoHeney smiled, straightening his wrinkled vest. "It's not cursed, its jist got a mind o' its own is all." He turned to Shay and Avari with a contrite look on his face. "I'm sorry fer me accusations. I shoulda trusted ye." Turning back to Jundag, the dwarf continued his lecture. "A strong personality ain't at all an uncommon thing fer magic weapons, especially dwarven ones. It's not somethin' they make inta the thing, but it kind o' grows, takin' a likeness ta its maker or its master."
"Magic!" Jundag spat in disgust.
"Aye, lad. Magic it is, but dwarven magic, ye understand. Magic of a race that never spawned a single wizard, yet made weapons such as these ta guard against darker powers. Magic like in them wards that fried them evil beasties ta ashes, but didn't touch nary a hair on any o' our heads."
Jundag seemed to grudgingly accept the dwarf's explanation, finally lowering and sheathing his sword.
"Thank you, DoHeney," Avari said. Although the dwarf tended to prattle, when the need was urgent he could be persuasive. "Now, I think we've spent more than enough time here. Which way do you think would be best?"
"As a matter o' fact, lass, I just happened ta be perusin' them maps in this here diary, and marked out the best way ta get ta the next flight o' stairs. Assumin' ye want ta go further down."
"I think that they are not likely to have the gems in the upper levels," Shay surmised. "Our first priority, however, should be to obtain a prisoner for information."
"I'm afraid that might jist have ta wait a bit, me friend." DoHeney grinned, flipping though the pages of the diary. "The first thing, me thinks, is ta get ourselves across the gorge without gettin' caught."
"Gorge?" the others chimed in chorus.
"I wish you would tell us these things in advance," Jundag mumbled.
The messenger's small splayed feet slapped the stone in a relentless cadence, slowing as it trotted around the corner to the armory. Three orcs and an ogre sat on the floor between the endless racks of spears, axes, swords and shields, casting bones in turns, and laughing no matter the outcome.
Ohno-ohno! thought the poor creature as it tried to sneak past. Hurthurthurt! As if in answer to its thoughts, the ogre reached out a paw and grabbed the messenger by an arm.
"Owwww! Stop! Stop! Darkmist!" The exclamation was understood all too well, as the orcs jumped up and scrambled for their weapons, trying to look as if they had been alert.
"Where's Darkmist?" the ogre snarled, looking around.
"Message for Darkmist," the messenger squeaked. "He here?"
Ogre laughter roared as the orcs shuffled back to their position on the floor. "No, he not here. But da stupid orcs thought so. Dey were scaaared." He dropped the messenger and scooped up the bones for another toss.
The small beast lost no time in scuttling down the corridor, glancing back to make sure that none of the brutes were in pursuit. But all that followed it down the passage was the rattle of cruel laughter. The soft patter of its feet resumed as it searched for its master, having no idea where he might be, and beginning to realize that this was a very large keep.
CHAPTER 25
The companions all agreed on one fact: getting across the chasm that yawned before them would not be easy. The only way to the other side was a stone bridge suspended from two towering obelisks by dozens of cables. Double rows of massive eye bolts secured the cables to the bridge, each as thick as a man's wrist. Two cables from each eye bolt, one to each tower, left the bridge seeming to float in the air.
The four cowered in the shadows of a side passage, watching the two sentries stationed at each end, gauging the frequency of passers by. They needed the bridge to be clear of traffic for a few minutes. DoHeney assured them that he could take the guards and, after his last success, none doubted him.
"I do not understand why the dwarves did not collapse this bridge and leave it at that," Jundag pointed out.
Indeed, the chasm would have made a considerable barrier. The ceiling of the cavern loomed dozens of yards overhead; a squad of crossbowmen could have lofted shots across the expanse to pin down any attempts to cross.
"I wonder that meself," DoHeney said, eying the structure. "Could be the critters didn't give 'em the time ta drop the thing. It'd take a crew hours ta do the job right, unless o'course it was rigged ta drop beforehand."
"You mean that thing could be set to fall at the simple pull of a lever?" Avari asked, not relishing the thought of crossing a bridge that could fall out from under her at any moment.
"Oh, I doubt that it's still set ta fall after all these years. The beasties would o' fixed anythin' long ago."
Silence settled over the group as they waited. Unfortunately, the bridge was a busy place, and there was always a creature or two passing through. At one point a, cloaked figure strode from the cavernous doors on the other side and spoke with one of the guards. Avari felt Shay stiffen, and she laid a comforting hand on his arm. Glancing at her, he first tugged on his own priestly garb then gestured to the dark figure across the chasm. His meaning was clear; this was a minion of the Dark Gods, perhaps even the Nekdukarr himself. She looked again, but the cloaked individual had gone back the way he had come.
"That's good," DoHeney whispered. "They just checked the guard. That means we probably have a while before they're checked again. We'd best move soon."
"Agreed," Jundag urged. "The sooner the better."
After a short but agonizing wait, there was a lull in traffic, leaving only the four guards in view. Doheney made a violent chopping motion with his hand and they all moved to their agreed-upon positions. Avari and Jundag covered the main entrance on this side, while Shay waited in reserve, ready with his spells should anything go amiss. DoHeney drew up the hood of his cloak and stepped into the open, moving toward the near guards. Instead of his usual bouncy step, he shambled with an awkward, hunchbacked gait. This must have seemed normal to the guards, for they allowed the dwarf to get within a few feet, a fatal mistake on their part.
His hands twitched beneath his cloak, and two daggers flew. The first materialized in the eye of one sentry, and the second pierced the throat of the other. As the former creature crumpled, DoHeney pirouetted and jammed a third blade into the sternum of the latter. In a blur of motion, the dwarf drew out his crossbow, already cocked and ready to fire. It was a long shot to the other side, but he had no trouble. The first bolt hit one guard in the upper chest, dropping it instantly. The other turned to flee, but DoHeney flicked another shaft into the weapon, which appeared to have cocked itself. The bolt whizzed, and the creature sprawled, face down.
Avari shook her head in amazement. And I thought I was pretty good with a bow! She moved from hiding and raced across the bridge with the others as DoHeney retrieved his daggers and kicked the guards' bodies into the chasm.
"I'm worried that the guards will be missed," she said as they crouched in the shadow of a doorway on the far side.
"If they're anythin' like the beasties upstairs, these troops have lousy discipline," DoHeney said. "Most likely they'll be thought to have gone off for a drink or the like."
"Also, they have just been checked," Shay reminded. "We should have some time until they are missed."
The dwarf consulted his map, then led them on a twisting
path through the back passages, avoiding the busy and well-traveled areas. Nonetheless, the throaty roar of forge fires and the clang of hammer and anvil never faded, attesting to the fact that the enemy was gearing up for war. Finally they arrived at another large room; it looked like any of a half a dozen others they had passed, but DoHeney pointed toward the doors at the far end and made downward motions; this was the next stair.
Gods preserve DoHeney, Avari thought. If the dwarf was separated from them or killed, the others would be hopelessly lost in this maze of passages.
"Guards!" the dwarf hissed, pushing them back into the shadows. "Big'uns, too."
"Indeed," Shay agreed with a cringe of worry, "those are the largest wagloks I have ever seen!"
Oh dear, Avari thought; the beasts were as tall as the ogres they had seen in the upper keep. They stood facing one another so that neither could be approached from behind without the other spying the intruder. Their twisted locks draped to the length of their chain hauberks, and each hefted a double-bladed axe as tall as Avari.
"Uh oh! Our guard checker's come ta look in on the frizzy twins," DoHeney whispered, nodding as a cloaked figure approached the guards.
The beasts snapped to attention as the figure approached. The short conversation that ensued reached their ears, but the words were gibberish. Then the figure clapped both of the huge creatures on their arms and departed. This time, however, he did not leave the way he had come, but strode across the chamber directly toward their hiding place.
The friends pressed back into their tiny alcove, originally designed to fit a single dwarf, and held their breaths as the slim figure approached. Each of the companions prayed to their respective gods that he would pass by unaware, but either the gods were not listening, or their luck had simply run out. The Dukarr captain took one step into the hallway, and looked directly at them. His surprise at seeing four surface dwellers staring back at him from the shadows stayed his hand just long enough to ensure that it never reached his sword.
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