Crypt of the Moaning Diamond d-4

by Rosemary Jones

  "So, is this a real event or not?" asked Zuzzara, who never could stand much philosophizing and disliked talk about elves because of some bad experiences with one of her stepmothers.

  "Well, it's not an elf-made picture, which makes it a bit tricky to tell," started Mumchance.

  "Somebody came down here in the dust and gloom, not to mention risking kobolds and whatever chewed that bugbear, and stopped to look at it," said Ivy.

  "Maybe we should discover who that person was," suggested Sanval.

  "Or maybe we should look for a way out that keeps us out of their path," Ivy said loudly.

  Nobody was listening to her. They were all carefully puzzling over the picture on the floor. There were times when kobolds were more sensible than her friends. At least kobolds concentrated on the basics like finding food and left mystical patterns written in the floor tiles alone.

  "I don't think that they were just looking at the pictures. I think they stopped to read the runes," added Gunderal. "Look how the dust is cleaned away so carefully."

  "Can you read them?" asked Ivy, because it was obvious that nobody was going to do anything until they had solved this little mystery.

  Gunderal shook her head. "Too old. Four hundred years or more, if I had to guess. And it's only a guess." She looked at Mumchance where he was bent over the runes, tracing the edges of each shape with a stubby finger.

  "I'm old," snorted the dwarf. "But I'm not that old. Runes change, meanings change. But these… These might be corruptions of old Netherese symbols."

  "That is not possible," said Sanval.

  "Even I know that empire was dust long before the first Tsurlagol was built," added Ivy, just to stay in the conversation.

  "The empire disappeared long before Tsurlagol was built," agreed Mumchance. "But that doesn't mean all their magic disappeared overnight. Dig deep enough and you run into strange things in the Vast-artifacts, toys, bits of spellbooks that those mad sorcerers left behind. They were human, after all-that meant they bred like rabbits and ran like deer when the disaster finally overtook them."

  "Mumchance," said Ivy in gentle reproof. "Both Sanval and I would like to think our race has a few redeeming qualities."

  "Many and many," said the dwarf. "You humans are usually nice to dogs and other small furry creatures. But the best of all is that you know when to run to survive. Dwarves can be too stubborn sometimes." He fingered the old scars on his face and shook his head at memories of the mine fire that had destroyed his family. He shrugged and continued the discussion of Netheril, because ancient history was always more pleasant than his own memories. "When the shining cities fell, not everyone died. Some carried mighty magic into exile. There have always been rumors about a fantastic treasure buried beneath Tsurlagol. The story goes that the first time Tsurlagol fell into dust and ruin, it was because of a great magic that men could not control. That sounds like Netheril to me. Then later they started that mad fire that they had to bury under the earth. That was fairly recent history for a dwarf, not much before my grandfather's father's time. And they used some fancy artifact to bury the city, something like what would have come out of Netheril."

  "But is there information here that can help us?" said Ivy, glancing around the shadowed bath.

  "The dwarf is right, my dears. These symbols are not well made, but they do bear great resemblance to those used by Netheril and its sorcerers," said Kid, circling back to peer over Mumchance's shoulder. He pursed his lips. "These are copies of copies, made by men who could only draw what they saw, but could not read."

  "And how do you know that, young thief?" asked Mumchance.

  "Because I had a master once," said Kid, very softly. Ivy, who had only paid mild attention to Mumchance's lecture on ancient history, was caught by Kid's depressed tone. He never spoke of his past, and this was the first time that she had heard him mention a master. "He was not a good man. But he was fond of old things, very old magic. Spellbooks with runes like these and worse."

  "Worse?" asked Ivy. Kid ignored her and trotted away, his nose down to examine the footprints in the dust.

  "So when fire consumed the city, they used a magic jewel to bury it," said Gunderal, still discussing the mosaic with Mumchance, pointing at the burning walls before the cloaked wizard.

  "Just one wizard with a fancy gem? Doesn't seem likely," said Ivy.

  Sanval wrinkled his brow. "I was never that fond of history lessons, but I always heard that it was an earthquake sent by the gods in answer to the people's prayers."

  "I doubt it was the gods. That wizard must have caused the earthquake with a spell, maybe something stored in that jewel that he is holding, like we store Dry Boots in our ring," said Gunderal, on her knees at the edge of the bath, still staring at the mosaic. "Why show a spellcaster with a gem if you don't have a gem in the tale? It must have been a wonderful spell. I told you that I could still feel echoes of weird old magic in that hall."

  "Fascinating, all of it, but we are not here to go treasure hunting. In fact, if someone is looking for that magic rock, I would rather avoid them," said Ivy. "Kid, which way did they go? Our party of five less one?"

  "They came from the east, my dear," said Kid, trotting to the edge of the bath and flipping himself easily to a handstand on the rim, giving a quick click of his hooves at the top of his handstand, and then somersaulting to a dark archway across the room. "And they left to the north, through that wide arch there."

  "Is he always like this?" asked Sanval.

  "No," said Ivy. "He's tired, or he would have done a couple of extra cartwheels. We've thought about selling him to a faire once or twice." But Kid's actions disturbed her. In more recent years, Kid only did such extravagant show-off gestures when he was in one of his black moods.

  "But we've never found a faire," grunted Mumchance. "Come on, girl, give the short guy a hand up." The last was said over his shoulder to Zuzzara, who grabbed his belt with one hand and easily lifted him over the edge. Zuzzara followed with a little hop. She wandered back over to where the bugbear lay, to pick up the extra torch left by the body.

  "So we go east," Ivy decided. "That group came from Tsurlagol. I'm sure of it."

  "If we go north, we will learn why they came here," said Sanval in polite disagreement, obviously deciding that now was not the time to defer to her status as Captain of the Siegebreakers.

  Ivy sighed. She knew being in charge without opposition would not last that long-it never did with her friends, and why should Sanval be any different-but she was willing to try. "Do we care why they are here? They're deserters or treasure hunters or lost fools," said Ivy.

  "What if they are planning an ambush?" Sanval asked.

  "Well, jolly good luck to the Thultyrl, then," said Ivy, "but I'm not his bodyguard. I'm here to bring down a wall, and to do that we need to go east, not north." Sanval still looked troubled. "That sounded a bit crude. Most assuredly, we wish the Thultyrl a long life and much happiness," Ivy added.

  "Until we get paid," muttered Mumchance and winced when Ivy's elbow connected with his ear.

  Zuzzara gave a shout. She'd been poking around the bugbear's body, muttering about the smell of moss getting stronger. Suddenly, the half-orc yelped with pain. She spun around, flailing at the air. "Something is here," she screamed. "It bit me!"

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Zuzzara stumbled back toward them, one leg angled oddly out in the air, shouting that she could not shake her attacker off her leg. The only problem was that nobody could see anything.

  Gunderal told Zuzzara to stop playing stupid jokes.

  Zuzzara screamed, "Half-orcs never play practical jokes!"

  She slammed her shovel down on the space near her leg. The shovel hit something with a sickening thud. The smell of rotting mushrooms filled the room. Zuzzara and her invisible attacker tumbled into the empty bath.

  "Look at that!" said Mumchance, pointing at the dusty tiles of the bath.

  The group could clearly see the signs of four b
ig round feet being dragged after Zuzzara as the half-orc stumbled in circles and continued to beat down with her shovel. Each stroke of the shovel thwacked into something solid that stopped it at the level of Zuzzara's knee. Each stroke also released more fungal stench into the air, so that even Kid was choking a little and covering his nose with one ruddy hand. But Zuzzara's efforts seemed to have no effect on her attacker.

  Ivy and Sanval leaped into the bath. Both swung their swords at the same time, cutting through the air near Zuzzara.

  Ivy felt her blade hit something solid and sticky. When she pulled back on the stroke, she could see a gelatinous shimmer drip down her blade.

  Closer to Zuzzara, the stench was overpowering and reminiscent of the strange mossy smell that had clung to the dead bugbear's corpse. Ivy gagged and staggered back. She concentrated on breathing through her mouth and sawing away at whatever was attacking Zuzzara.

  Kid's two stilettos went whistling past Ivy, and thankfully missed Zuzzara. One struck and seemed to stick in whatever was attached to the half-orc's leg. The little stiletto bobbing in the air gave them another reference point for their attacks.

  Beside Ivy, Sanval swallowed grimly against the stink and slashed at the invisible creature. Like Ivy, he had trouble with his sword sticking in whatever he struck. His blade was almost wrenched out of his hand, and he overbalanced, dragged to one knee as he wrested the sword free. Sanval rolled to one side to avoid Ivy's next awkward stroke and jumped straight into the air. As he launched himself forward, he brought his blade point down with a two-handed stroke into the space nearest to Zuzzara's ankle, trying to skewer whatever was attacking her. He missed. The sword buried itself into the mosaic floor with a sickening thud. Even Mumchance winced as the big fighter's shoulders and arms took the shock of the misdirected stroke. Sanval simply grimaced, pulled his sword free, and immediately swung around to assault the invisible foe again.

  Zuzzara's attacker dragged her in a circle. She was pivoting on her right leg with her left leg almost straight out in the air. Ivy danced around her, trying to figure out from the angle of Zuzzara's leg where her attacker was. She slashed down just as Zuzzara pivoted farther right. Ivy stopped the stroke in midair, nearly knocking herself off balance, but she managed to avoid slicing into Zuzzara's knee.

  "Watch her leg! Watch her leg!" screamed Gunderal, as both Ivy and Sanval continued to swing their swords blindly at the area near her sister's left boot. "Be careful!"

  "Get it off me," cried Zuzzara, the leather in her boot now starting to visibly shred around the calf. "Gunderal, do something! It's magic!"

  With an elegant swirl of silk skirts, Gunderal leaped into the bath. She landed gracefully but with a wince of pain as the movement jarred her sprained arm. With her uninjured hand, Gunderal fumbled loose the canteen at her belt, worked its cap open, and tucked it into her sling. She sprinkled drops of water into her good hand. Her canteen slipped out of the sling and fell onto the floor a thud. Stepping over the canteen, Gunderal muttered the words of a spell as she walked toward her half-sister.

  "Get back!" screamed Zuzzara, terrified Gunderal would walk into the blades of the fighters or fall victim to whatever was trying to chew off her leg.

  Gunderal ignored her. She continued to chant, cupping her hand in front of her face, and blowing out her breath.

  Gunderal's breath sparkled in the air, glittering like crystals. A frost formed on the invisible creature revealing four stumpy legs and a square body, with a cluster of round nodules covering its sides.

  Now able to see the creature, Ivy and Sanval hit it on each side with their swords.

  "Go for the head, go for the head," cried Gunderal.

  "Where is the head?" screamed Ivy.

  "Where it is attached to my boot!" yelled back Zuzzara, giving a mighty kick. The creature hung on. Sanval swiftly spun and sliced away the cluster of nodules on the top of the creature's head, barely missing Zuzzara's foot. The creature gave off an even more noxious puff of stink and collapsed.

  A mottled green and brown hide became visible underneath the glittering frost that coated it. Although it was not easy to tell head from tail, what appeared to be the attacker's mouth remained locked around the calf of the half-orc's boot.

  Using Zuzzara's shovel as a crowbar, Sanval broke open the creature's jaw and released Zuzzara's leg.

  Gunderal observed with satisfaction that the creature had not been able to completely bite through Zuzzara's double-dragonhide boots. "I told her that the expense was worth it," she explained to Sanval, who was still looking a little dazed from the stench of the creature. "Besides looking fantastic, those boots can survive the worst attack. It never pays to wear cheap footwear."

  "Certainly," Sanval replied courteously. He flicked out a clean cloth from his belt pouch to wipe disemboweled fungus off his sword and the front of his own fine leather boots.

  "But look at that tear," said Zuzzara, leaning down to finger the long rent in the top layer of leather.

  "We will just take them back and get them exchanged for a new pair. Probably something in green, that would be nice."

  "Do you think that cobbler will do that?"

  "He gave us a lifetime guarantee," said Gunderal with the assurance of a wizard who was always willing to make merchants live up to their promises.

  Ivy poked the creature with the tip of her sword, just to verify that it was dead. It let out another puff of stink.

  "Ivy, leave it alone," said Gunderal, pulling up one of her long silk neck scarves to cover her nose.

  "Poor baby," said Mumchance, looking down at the four-legged creature. He snapped at Wiggles. "Don't touch. Don't roll in it! Bad dog! Wiggles, stay!" He lunged for the little white dog and scooped Wiggles up into his pocket before she could roll over the corpse.

  "Poor baby!" said Zuzzara. "It nearly chewed my leg off."

  "Oh, stop making a fuss," said her unsympathetic sister. "I told you that we can get you new boots."

  "What is it?" said Ivy. "Besides smelly."

  "Phantom fungus-you get them in old tunnels and caves. It's a little one though. Full grown, it would have been chewing off Zuzzara's hip, not biting her ankles," said Mumchance. "Good thing you used that frost spell, Gunderal. It is the only thing that could have made it visible. Their invisibility talent is immune to most magical counterspells."

  "It should have frozen in place," said Gunderal. She sighed from deep in her chest and shook her head. "Not just sparkled."

  "Hey," said Zuzzara, "last time that you did that freeze spell, you turned me into a snow orc. That spell can sting!"

  "The spell did not work anyway," said Gunderal, ignoring her sister's criticisms as she usually did. "I just can't seem to concentrate long enough."

  "The frost was fine," consoled Ivy, "all we needed to do was see it to kill it."

  "It was an excellent use of magic," agreed Sanval with a slight bow. "In Procampur, we say that subtlety always takes more talent than brutality."

  "Oh, do we say that?" said Ivy, remembering some of her wilder strokes as she tried to bash Zuzzara's attacker. "How very refined of us."

  Sanval simply looked puzzled at her tone.

  "So, if this is the baby," said Kid, poking at the dead pile of fungus with one shiny hoof, "where is the mother, dear ones?

  Everyone glanced around the room.

  "I think it is time to start moving again," said Ivy.

  For once, nobody argued with her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Three possible exits from the city bath," Ivy pointed out to her friends, ticking them off on her fingers. "There's the lovely, dank, animal-dug tunnel which that baby phantom fungus came from."

  "Where that bugbear's arm has gone, my dear. I'm sure that the mother fungus has it," said Kid, sniffing the air in that direction as he retrieved his stilettos.

  "Which may have body parts and bigger phantom fungi," agreed Ivy. "Thank you for reminding us."

  The whole group decided against ex
ploring that tunnel.

  "Then there's the northern way," said Ivy, gesturing at the line of footprints that indicated where the rest of the unfortunate bugbear's party had apparently fled.

  "That is the way that we should go," said Sanval. "If the bugbear was one of Fottergrim's raiders, then they may be setting up an ambush. They may be aiming for the Thultyrl's camp."

  "We don't know that," said Ivy. "All we know is that they were down here, and they are probably not friendly."

  As an officer of Procampur, Sanval pointed out that it was his duty to find out what the raiders were doing in these ruins and, if possible, capture or kill them. He was very courteous about it and obviously expected everyone to agree with him.

  Ivy looked at her friends, and they all rolled their eyes.

  "We were not going that way," she told Sanval. "We need to get under the walls of Tsurlagol and bring the western wall down. As the Thultyrl decided."

  Sanval looked unconvinced. But before he could voice another argument or strike out on his own, following that mysterious trail of footprints, Zuzzara grabbed him from behind in a friendly headlock. He squirmed, but the half-orc was stronger and quite a bit taller than the officer from Procampur. She leaned over his shoulder to look into his face and show him her grin, full of pointy teeth.

  "I owe you my life for being so quick with your blade," said Zuzzara, "so I definitely cannot let you run off and get yourself killed."

  To avoid getting his windpipe crushed by Zuzzara's concern, Sanval agreed to stay with the group, but he kept casting glances back at the line of footprints leading away from the bath.

  "I should follow them," he said.

  "Sweet," said Zuzzara, giving him another hug against her brass-buttoned waistcoat that caused all the breath to leave him with a giant whoosh.

  "She's more dangerous friendly than angry," said Ivy, pulling Sanval away. "But she's right too. Sweet of you to want to do your duty. But not proper behavior for an officer."