Zellohar

by Chris A. Jackson

  "The increased illumination may be due to the proximity of the two interdimensional conduits," Shay volunteered.

  "What'd he say?" the dwarf whispered in exasperation to where he hoped Avari stood.

  "It's brighter because we're close to the other gem," she hissed. She tugged on the line and headed in the direction DoHeney had indicated. The dwarf brought up the rear, slinking from shadow to shadow.

  "Lort Priessst Tekhnaal!"

  Dekhmaal roused with a snort, caught sleeping on his throne. A snake-man bowed before him. One of the priests, he thought, but they're so hard to tell apart.

  "What is it?" he snapped, straightening and shaking the fuzz from his mind.

  "We hafe fount sssometing, Lort," the snake-man said. A small object gleamed in his cupped hands.

  Dekhmaal leaned forward and snatched the item. A silver hairbrush. Turning the delicate item over, the Dukarr's eyes widened. Inscribed on the back was a single dwarven character.

  "Where did you find this?" the Dukarr demanded, waving the brush like a weapon under the snake-man's nose.

  "It wasss fount near de sout entrance to de tenpel, Lort," the worried creature said, slithering back out of harm's way while attempting a half bow. "One of de patrolsss sssaid dey sssmelled sssometing ssstrange, den heard a noissse in de busshesss. Dey fount disss when dey looked for de ssourssse of de noisse."

  Sorting through the snake-man's accent took half a heartbeat, but even before he fully understood the words, Dekhmaal leapt to his feet, seething with fury.

  "Double the guard immediately!" he bellowed, startling the reptilian priest. "Search the temple from top to bottom. An invasion of dwarven thieves is underway to steal the Serpent-God's treasure. They must be found and killed!" The Dukarr's ranting had the desired effect; turmoil spread through the temple like ripples in a pond.

  Dekhmaal settled back, letting the cool alabaster of the throne caress his back, a satisfied smile drawing his pale lips tight. So the valiant dwarves have come for their trinket, have they? he thought, reaching into a deep inner pocket of his robe to withdraw the precious artifact.

  Piercing light flooded the room as he unwrapped the emerald. Just like it glowed in Zellohar Keep. Dekhmaal shivered, the hairs rising on the back of his neck. He blinked the stars from his eyes and paused, lost in thought. Gradually the smile returned to his lips.

  So the gem glows brighter as its former owners approach, eh? Well, if this is what they seek, let it be waiting for them. Dekhmaal placed the gem on the throne. Stepping away, he cast a spell, first rolling a bit of wool between his fingers, then touching his eyes. The room now appeared void of sentient life, save for the whisper of a laugh that lingered beside the massive throne.

  "Damn, that was close!" Avari whispered. A squad of heavily-armed snake-men disappeared around the corner, the companions having barely avoided being slithered into.

  "It's a wonder the blasted gem didn't give us away. It's glowin' so bright I kin see it clean through the bag!"

  "Keep it under your cloak," Shay whispered to DoHeney. "What direction now?"

  "Still off ta the left someplace, methinks. Jist keep on ahead and take the next left turn ye come ta."

  The party edged forward. The predicted left-hand passage appeared and they followed it, but when the passage ended in a T, the gem pointed straight ahead. A fluent stream of dwarvish curses flowed from the depths of DoHeney's bristling beard.

  "Go left," Lynthalsea's voice whispered from the darkness. "I was always taught that if you're lost, bear left."

  "We're not lost, blast it! I jist—"

  "Hush," Avari snapped, "you'll draw attention. We're going left. Follow me."

  "Sure, follow ye. I can't even see ye—" DoHeney's grumbling halted as a strong hand grabbed his collar and dragged him several feet. "Okay, okay, I'm comin'."

  Before they had walked two-dozen paces, however, Avari's hiss froze them in place. She struggled with the desire to run screaming ahead, sword at the ready, with the need to preserve their tactical advantage until the last moment. Fortunately, stealth was winning out at the moment.

  "Come ahead slowly. And be quiet!" her tense voice whispered back to them from the darkness.

  Ahead, flickering torchlight illuminated a great archway. Two guards bearing wickedly curved halberds, lacquered armor, and scimitars flanked the entrance. Their long tails draped across the opening, making it impossible for anyone to pass through the gilded archway. Avari's invisible hands pushed her friends back to where they could whisper together.

  "This is most assuredly the gem's resting place," Shay announced.

  DoHeney rolled his eyes in exaggeration. "No—"

  "Quiet!" Avari's terse command demanded obedience. "We take care of the guards first; then we can see if the gem's inside."

  "Good, but how do we do that quietly?" Shay asked. "As we have seen, the creatures are very difficult to kill. These do not look drugged, but we can take no chances."

  "Leave it to me." The bloodlust that colored Lynthalsea's usually polite tone brought a grim smile to Avari's invisible lips.

  The restricting line went slack as the invisible companions detached themselves and spread out in the corridor. Avari heard Lynthalsea move to the far wall, within a few yards of the unsuspecting guards. The soft wisp of a drawn arrow, then the click as it snicked against the taut bowstring, signaled the elf's preparations. She watched the guards, praying that their hearing was not on a par with their apparently excellent sense of smell. The bow creaked as it was drawn.

  THWNNN-THWANNNNG!

  Avari jumped in spite of herself, and tightened her grip on Gaulengil's hilt when there was no second shot to take out the other guard. When both guards crumpled to the floor, tails twitching spasmodically, she relaxed. Arrows transfixed them at the base of their skulls, neatly severing their spines. Lynthalsea had fired the two arrows so quickly in succession that it sounded like a single thrum.

  "Beautiful."

  "Aye, lass. Them were beautiful shots!"

  While DoHeney's compliment was obviously meant to commend the elf's archery skill, Avari thought that Shay's tone was more in adoration of the elf's exquisite form as she flickered into sight, bow poised for another shot.

  "Quickly, Shay!" she hissed, urging him forward. "Hide the bodies before others come."

  As Lynthalsea and DoHeney vanished into the shadows, Shay and Avari dragged the bodies away. Avari suppressed a grim chuckle at how the scene must appear: two obviously dead snake-men sliding around the floor, then piling into the dark together.

  "Avari and I will investigate," Shay's disembodied voice informed them when they had finished. With a faint whisk of invisible boots, the two edged into the portal before the others could object.

  "I hate waitin'," grumbled DoHeney. "I'd much rather be doin' somethin' meself."

  Lynthalsea sympathized but kept quiet, straining to hear the telltale slither of scales. All was quiet. Too quiet.

  "It's amazing!" Shay's voice startled them.

  "What is?" Lynthalsea whispered as she tried to slow her pounding heart. She longed to melt into her wolf form—her canine senses were so much keener—but her bow skills were better suited to their current situation.

  "The room is fashioned of alabaster and mother-of-pearl, quite cunningly crafted," Shay said. "There is a throne in the center, surrounded by all sorts of treasure! And a great pillar carved in the shape of a serpent. Quite spectacular!"

  DoHeney's eyes widened. "Treasure?"

  "Forget about the architecture and the treasure." Lynthalsea glared at DoHeney's avaricious mien. "What about the gem?"

  "That is the best of all!" Shay's voice cracked with excitement. "The emerald is just sitting on the throne, ready to be taken."

  "You're neglecting a few details, Shay." Avari's disembodied voice was considerably more restrained. "Like the real serpent coiled near the throne, the one big enough to swallow my horse! Remind you of a certain dragon and pinnacle? And
the fact that the loose treasure makes just sneaking up and snatching the gem out of the question."

  "Oh, jist minor details." DoHeney's sarcasm matched his sour look. He turned toward Avari's voice to get the facts. "But ye say there's not a soul about?"

  "No one," Avari said. "Why should there be? It's being guarded by a viper as thick as you are tall! I'd think that would be enough."

  "Aye, lass, but a dragon should-a been enough, too." DoHeney tugged his beard to contemplate the problem. "Now what's that slimy, paranoid, power-crazed Nekdukarr up ta? Did he bring the gem here and leave it fer the snake men ta protect? If so, they're not doin' a very good job, since we've got this far. Or did he get here first and lay a trap for us?"

  Lynthalsea had gotten caught up in Shay's excitement; she longed to snatch the gem and get out of these constricting corridors and back outdoors. But DoHeney's logic cooled her ardor, and the sudden silence indicated that the others also heeded the warning. Lynthalsea breathed deeply and said what they all knew.

  "We have no choice," she said. "We must try to take it."

  "Well," DoHeney said, "half of beatin' any trap is knowin' it's a trap. If we're gonna walk back inta a dragon's den, so ta speak, let's at least do it usin' our heads as well as our feet, if ye follow me thinkin'." He crooked a finger, and their four heads bent together as he outlined his plan.

  CHAPTER 38

  The room was indeed beautiful. Alabaster walls curved with featureless grace from the arch, unmarred by other entrances. Glow-crystals lit the expansive space, glinting off of the treasure mounded around the throne and the fantastic pillar sculpted in the likeness of a serpent.

  And absolutely no place ta hide! DoHeney cursed to himself as he stepped into the room and pressed his back against the cool stone, his crossbow cocked and ready. A flick of his free hand brought Lynthalsea to the other side of the portal, bow at the ready. They stood still for several heartbeats, scrutinizing the chamber's every detail, ready for anything. When their eyes finally met they nodded in silent agreement, then stepped toward the snake-throne and the all-too-real reptile coiled at its base.

  Inch by meticulous inch, they shuffled forward across the smooth white stone. DoHeney's gaze swept back and forth like a metronome, scanning for any possible threat. Lynthalsea's eyes, however, focused solely on the immense serpent.

  After agonizing minutes, they stood at the edge of the knee-deep mound of treasure on which the snake slept, less than five strides from its nose. Lynthalsea's breast heaved with a deep calming breath. She wiped her sweaty palms on her cloak before raising her bow and drawing the string back to her cheek. She gauged the distance a moment longer; her aim would have to be absolutely flawless to ensure a clean-killing shot.

  "Don't miss, lass," DoHeney encouraged her.

  Dekhmaal nearly laughed as he watched the two thieves sneak toward the throne, completely unaware that they were being observed. It surprised him that there were only two, and that they were, of all combinations, a stunningly beautiful elf and a homely dwarf.

  He had been right; it seemed the gem glowed more brightly in the presence of a dwarf, for its radiance was now as bright as the glow-crystals overhead. Slowly, Dekhmaal eased a dagger from its sheath on his belt. He stole closer to the elf who was drawing back her bowstring.

  Just before she loosed her arrow, he struck.

  The off-key 'TWANG' rang in Lynthalsea's ear in the same instant that a sharp pain lanced across her cheek. The bow leapt from her grasp and clattered to the floor, the string hanging loose from both ends. Instinctively, she reached up to her face; her hand came away smeared with blood.

  I checked that string! she thought in confusion. How did it—

  "By the gods, what happened, girl?" DoHeney hissed, looking crazily around the room for something to shoot.

  Before she could answer him, she heard a whisper of harsh words by her shoulder. Searing heat and light flashed past her ear, and she cried out even as she heard Shay yell a warning. But it was too late. Lightning struck DoHeney in the chest, lifting him off his feet and flinging him across the room. He landed with a meaty thud and skidded to a stop, his smoldering form motionless.

  Lynthalsea glimpsed a tall, dark form materializing next to her before the man's arm snaked around her throat. She gasped for breath before freezing as the cold edge of a dagger pressed against the pulse at her neck.

  She felt, rather than heard, a rumbling basso hiss, then saw the huge viper's triangular head rise, its eyes focused on her. Without easing the dagger's pressure, her captor pulled a wand out of his pocket with his free hand and pointed it; with a single word, the snake froze in place. The man backed cautiously toward the towering serpent, dragging Lynthalsea along until their feet crunched into the treasure.

  Please, she thought desperately, Let him not have heard Shay. Let him think that it was just us two. But her prayer went unanswered when her captor called out.

  "Cancel your invisibility, my unwelcome guests, or I will feed your companions to my pet." He flicked the wand again and the snake lowered its huge, scaly head, lashing its tongue toward the crumpled dwarf. A soft moan came from the smoking form as the snake drew near.

  "Very well, Dukarr," Shay's voice cut through the tense silence, "but first call off the snake."

  Ahh, a Dukaar! Lynthalsea recalled her friends' tales of encountering the dark paladin's squires in Zellohar.

  "As you wish," the man said with satisfaction, using the wand once again to halt the snake's motion. "There. Now cast off your spell, or this pretty elf will have her face marred further."

  Lynthalsea tried to croak out a warning but the blade pressed harder, forcing her silence. Shay and Avari flickered into sight only a few steps away. Avari looked startled, as if she had been caught with no clothes on, whereas Shay looked both furious and alarmed as he stared at Lynthalsea's captor.

  "Well, what a pretty picture this makes," the man said with a laugh. And what a lovely lunch my serpent shall have!" The wand flashed again.

  The speed with which the serpent responded caught Shay and Avari off-guard. All signs of lethargy gone, the huge snake streaked toward Shay, jaws agape, fangs like unsheathed scimitars. But the past trials had prepared Tem's priest well. He dodged and, with all the strength his enchanted weapon could grant him, struck a crushing blow to the beast's head. The impact stunned the animal just long enough for the half-elf to roll clear. Avari charged unthinking to the attack, driving Gaulengil deep into the writhing coils. Crimson gushed over her hands, but Gaulengil stayed in her grip. She ripped it free of the scaly sheath before dancing away to avoid being crushed beneath the twisting behemoth. Again she slashed, and again she was forced back, but her effort left a gash in the tough hide.

  Lynthalsea could only watch, helpless as the Dukaar dragged her backward toward the throne. She choked as the blade at her throat pressed harder, its keen edge parting her skin as he pocketed the wand. Panic welled up like a cold ball of ice in her middle; if she only had a weapon! Then her thoughts coalesced; she did not need a weapon—she was a weapon.

  Relaxing, Lynthalsea let the familiar change take her. She felt the tickle of fur as it sprouted from her skin like grass. The scruff at her neck grew first, turning the edge of the Dukarr's blade, then hair spread across her entire body. Her skin tightened painfully as her face stretched into a snout, her canine teeth lengthening into fangs.

  Her legs and arms shortened and bent, shifting her weight and pulling her captor forward as he fought to keep hold of her. And, as always, with the physical change came the changes in perception and perspective. The close, sharp smell of the Dukarr, the warm, musty air of the temple, the spicy scent of Shay's many pouches; all these were clear and distinct, as were the individual smells and sounds of her new pack. Lynthalsea's sense of herself faded as if suddenly muffled by a thick blanket, supplanted by the instincts and manner of the wild wolf she resembled.

  Twisting, she gnashed her sharp teeth. The Dukaar's piercing scream h
urt her sensitive ears, but she ignored it, relishing the salty-sweet blood on her tongue. She crunched four of his fingers between her jaws, and the dagger that had been at her throat fell to the treasure mounded at their feet.

  Dekhmaal stumbled away from the ravening beast that had appeared in his arms, drawing his sword with his uninjured hand. Desperate, he fought to keep the wolf at bay while trying to staunch the bleeding of his ravaged fingers. From the corner of his eye he espied the blood-spattered woman warrior and the mage still battling the giant viper. The snake bled from several deep wounds, its head staved in where the priest's enchanted hammer had dealt crushing blows. No ordinary weapons could have dealt that damage.

  What in the Nine Hells is going on? he raged. Weapons of power, and now a shape shifter? His confidence crumbled like a house of cards; not only had the tables been turned, they had fallen on top of him. He backed toward the throne.

  Nothing's ever easy, is it? the Dukarr thought, clenching his jaw in resolution. At least they haven't gotten the gem yet.

  Risking a glance over his shoulder, Dekhmaal confirmed that the gem still rested where he had left it. But a new dilemma soon became apparent: how to fend off the wolf and grab the gem with only one good hand. If he dropped his sword, the wolf's fangs would clamp on his throat before he could reach the stone. But if Darkmist discovered that Dekhmaal had allowed the gem to be stolen... Borne of desperation, a brilliant thought came to mind.

  The exposed nerves of his mangled hand grated against rough fabric as he fished around in his pocket. Grinding his teeth against the pain, he grasped the wand that enabled him to control the serpent; its power would work on any animal, warm or cold blooded. His sword dipped, and the wolf advanced. Dekhmaal nearly dropped the wand, but managed to aim it at the snarling canine and spit out the command. The wolf stopped, its eyes widening, and its snarling lips dropped to cover the bloody teeth.

  "There now, that's better," the Dukarr said as he shifted his sword under his injured arm and pocketed the wand. "Now for the gem." Dekhmaal turned and grabbed the jewel, but a growl from behind him set the hair on the back of his neck on end. "What in the name of the Deathless One?"