Nails tried to rip Escalla’s face. She struck madly with her lich staff but missed, and the other faerie punched back. Escalla crashed into a springy surface, saw the other faerie lunging straight toward her with a dagger, and managed to plant both feet in the other creature’s chest. Her enemy tumbled backward and rebounded from a pillar, slamming face down into the spider web just below Escalla’s heels.
Clouds dissipated. Both faeries hung in the giant spiders’ web, stuck fast and buzzing wildly with rage. An instant later, giant black widow spiders emerged from the upper corners of the room. They stared at the prey through unwinking eyes and began to creep relentlessly along the strands of web. Escalla took one look at the spiders and felt her skin begin to crawl.
“Oh crap!”
Pointing one finger, Escalla fired little swarms of golden bees. The spellfire snapped and rebounded off the webs, failing to so much as break a strand. Escalla cursed, swiped clumsily with her lich staff, and blasted one sticky rope of spider web free. The black widows bounced madly on the web, running forward as they felt their prey beginning to escape.
Below Escalla, the other faerie jerked in a frenzy of panic. Escalla was breaking free strand by strand, and the black widows were racing in for the kill. The enemy faerie tore itself free, hanging by a single hand that was stuck tight. Flapping in frenzy, the faerie tried to break free.
Spiders gathered for a death lunge, Escalla broke another strand, and the masked faerie opened fire with a spell. Flesh blasted apart, and suddenly the masked faerie was flying free. Reeling in agony, the creature sped away out of the temple, leaving Escalla staring after it in shock.
The other faerie had deliberately blown off its own hand at the wrist. The severed hand still bounced and clung to the spiders webs. Hacking herself loose, Escalla fired a lightning bolt through the nearest spiders and cleared the web, then used the lich staff to cut the severed hand free. The faerie whirled, then looked down to hunt for the fallen slowglass gem… only to see the whole floor of the hall sparkling brightly with mountains of gold and jewels.
It was the temple’s treasure horde!
With a staff in one hand and a severed trophy in the other, Escalla stared. Fifty black widow spiders surged toward her from all sides. The slowglass gem gleamed and sparkled just below her, bracketed by enough treasure to buy a kingdom. Out of time, Escalla could only look about and flap her wings in woe.
“Oooh, shoot!”
Escalla dived, plucked up the slowglass gem, and shoved it in her mouth. With her mouth and hands full, the girl shot faster than a crossbow bolt out of the temple, leaving enraged spiders following fast behind.
* * *
Outside the temple, Jus fought beneath a diving umbrella of damselflies that struck and swerved at the drow—sometimes dying, sometimes killing. The drow high priestess screamed in fury and lashed at the Justicar with a rod that sprouted flailing tentacles. The strands struck home in a wild blur, whipping out to bind legs and arms, stinging with acid wherever they touched. Jus jerked in fury pain, trying to wrench himself free. A mace crashed against his shoulders, nearly cracking his spine. Jus kicked out viciously, connected with a kneecap, and brought the drow priestess crashing to the ground. Before he could finish her, he felt a blade rip into him from behind, then another crashed against his armor of dragon scales. The Justicar managed to tear the tentacles free and hurl the weapon aside, when suddenly the whole world exploded in his face. The drow priestess managed to slap a hand against the Justicar, and magic gave a hideous, brilliant flash.
And Jus was blind.
His eyesight simply disappeared, leaving him in total darkness. Jus reeled back, slinging the tentacle staff far away and sweeping the sword Benelux up on guard.
“Cinders! Can you see?”
Can see! The hell hound had fought in tandem with the Justicar for many long, hard years. High left!
Jus whipped his sword high left in a parry, and the weapon rang. Jus stepped back, sensed movement at his side, and smashed his sword down. The blade bit into something that screamed, and then Cinders barked a warning from above.
High-low! Jus sped his sword up in a parry, caught an attack, then blocked a stab lower down. High-low-high! Left foot! Rear high! Low left!
Jus fought purely by instinct. He felt motions beside him and whirled the sword up to meet each strike as Cinders yapped out commands. The stoneskin spell wore away under the assault of a dozen swords. He almost stumbled over a corpse then lashed out wildly to catch a sword that stabbed for his heart. He crashed his blade past the incoming weapon, ramming home with huge force. A dark elf screamed as Jus twisted the weapon and ripped it free.
He parried madly as a fresh rush of blows crashed home. A mace hammered against his sword hilt and almost struck the sword out of Jus’ hands.
Lower! Lower! Benelux screeched in fright, as she only just managed to catch an elven blade. Dog, call the shots properly!
Is properly!
You’re not doing it right! No, left!
“SHUT UP!” Jus roared at his two companions. Fighting purely by instinct and skill, Jus barely managed to put his weapon in the way of an attack. “Cinders, you help!”
All around him, he heard shrieking and dying. The drow still held a line protecting Lolth as the titanic spider drank. The battle would be lost in seconds. The moment the demon queen decided to lift her head out of the bowl, the captives and their rescuers would have no hope. Why she had drunk so long in the middle of a battle was anybody’s guess.
Jus spun, crashed his sword down on something—felt a presence behind him and to the left—and smashed his elbow into a drow face. As a sword clanged off his dragon scales, the Justicar shouted, “Cinders! Where’s the high priestess?”
Left front—three yards. Cinders heaved then blasted flames forward in a thunderous tidal wave of heat. Path open! Go!
Jus leaped forward, his sword smashing down and meeting nothing. Jus sensed something slashing at his face, ducked to his knees, and swung. His sword rang against a metal buckler, the huge force of his blow making his enemy crash to the ground.
The screams and howls of dying humans, half-orcs, elves, and halflings sounded in a mad chorus. Drow war cries screeched and echoed in the hellish light. Through it all, a strangely beautiful female voice managed to shout at the Justicar.
“You cannot see, human! You are doomed!”
Jus closed in upon the voice, deliberately keeping himself turned slightly away as though unable to find his enemy. He moved his sword point uncertainly.
“I know enough. You have been judged.”
“You are the Justicar—the hand of justice!” Sneering, the drow high priestess shifted, moving to one side.
Jus flicked his head and turned, again slightly out of line.
“You cannot see!” she screamed in triumph as she attacked.
Jus threw himself flat, spinning with his sword scything across the ground. The blade sheared through ankles, and the ranger heard a scream of agony. He rolled, rose, and slammed his sword through the stunned priestess, killing her instantly.
“Justice is blind.”
Shooting out of the temple, Escalla saw the other faerie plunge straight through the bone gateway. In flicker of light, her quarry was gone. Furious but unwilling to leave her friends, Escalla stared aghast at the carnage before her.
The temple steps were awash with blood. A hundred drow were dead, and easily twice as many humans. The damselflies had torn apart the black widows and the spider centaurs. A knot of drow priests and warriors were gathering around Lolth. The drow took heart as hunting horns sounded from the entrance to the distant caves. Escalla hoped Henry and Polk had the sense to get out of there.
Seeking the ranger, Escalla saw Jus staggering near the altar, his stoneskin spell long spent and blood running down both arms. The huge man suddenly staggered as a hand crossbow bolt struck him from behind, piercing Cinders’ fur but failing to penetrate the dragon scale coat below. Jus w
hirled blindly, his sword up and circling as drow closed in.
Escalla began to throw a spell, but the gem in her mouth stopped her from uttering the incantation. Her hands were full and drow surged below. With a painful gulp, Escalla swallowed the slowglass gem, turned a little green, then sped to the rescue of her friend.
“Jus!”
Escalla flamed destruction from above, making a circle of fire about the Justicar. She landed amidst the flames, clinging to the battered ranger. “Jus, are you hit? What’s wrong?”
“Blind! Spell.” Jus staggered as he nearly tripped over the high priestess—one of the most extravagantly bisected corpses Escalla had ever seen. More crossbows fired from the drow toward the mob of former captives, and Escalla interposed a shield that made the darts leap and bound away. More horns and war cries sounded as a horde of drow warriors rampaged down the tunnel toward Polk and Henry.
And Lolth finally moved.
Wrapped in clouds of shimmering black power, the demon queen raised her head from the bowl and gave a long, slow roar. Escalla stared, Cinders gaped, and the mob all froze in fear. The demon goddess was greeted by a wild cheer from her surviving guards, who all shook their weapons in salute toward their queen.
Lolth looked across the carnage, stared blearily at the dead and dying, and then collapsed on the ground with one almighty drunken wail.
Drunk as the proverbial skunk on about a thousand bottles of the dreaded vintage sixty-three, Lolth groaned and flopped about, then screamed in agony as convulsions seized her. Drow beside her shrieked and died as she lashed out at them with her mind, blasting skulls apart and sending dark elves streaming into the temple to hide. Escalla saw the drow turn and run, and she canceled her firewall. She seized a human who knelt strangling a long-dead drow. The man looked up as Escalla dragged him by the hair.
“Take the Justicar and go through the bone gate!” Escalla put Jus’ arm over the pimple man and yelled, “Get out through the bone gate! Run! Run!”
For a moment, Jus resisted, shouting, “No! Polk and Henry!”
“I’ll get ’em!” Escalla replied. “You hold the exit!”
Jus nodded grimly, and the mob turned like a living tide toward the gateway. Escalla heard screams and horn blasts from the distant tunnels and sped back to assist Polk and Henry’s last stand.
* * *
At the tunnel mouth, Henry swerved his crossbow from left to right, the dwindling ammunition pouring into the magazine as fast as it could move. Crossbow bolts hammered into drow as they churned in confusion. Return fire rang and howled as it careened from rocks and rebounded from Henry’s stoneskin. The magic was fading, and now Henry’s helmet rang as a crossbow bolt struck the metal crown, making his ears ring.
Still the magic crossbow snarled, sheeting darts into the enemy. Enemy fire whirred from the tunnel as drow held up the bodies of dead or paralyzed comrades to use as shields. The drow shuffled forward inch by inch, awkwardly closing the range. Two broke and sped to the left, hitting the last of Escalla’s traps and blowing themselves ceiling high. Others ran past the smoking remains, leaped over a pile of rocks, and began racing to Henry’s position. The soldier whipped his crossbow about to blast a dozen shots at them as they ran. One elf fell, but the other threw himself flat and began worming through cover.
Switching targets had let other drow rush closer. A dozen cringed behind their horrific shields as Henry shifted fire, and the boy was forced to hammer the advancing elves once more.
Inch by inch, Henry and Polk were losing. The drow were gathering and signing to one another, almost confident enough to rush the deadly crossbow. Polk searched the bottom of the ammunition box, whipped out the last dozen crossbow bolts, and slapped them in place.
“Almost out!”
Blurring insanely fast, the magic crossbow’s string suddenly snapped in two. Smoking, the pieces hung limp as Polk and Henry stared.
A sudden scream of victory came from the single drow on the flanks, and the dark elf charged Henry with two short swords clashing. Henry rolled, freeing his sword just as the Justicar had shown him, rolling and hacking upward into the drow’s knee. Hamstrung, the drow fell. Henry screamed in fright and stabbed his sword down like an ice pick, the point skipping and sparking off the drow’s armor time and time again.
Desperate, the dark elf kicked Henry, and the boy fell. Turning, the drow raised both swords over Henry’s chest.
Henry roared furiously, bellowing like the Justicar and unleashing a vast strength brought on by terror and desperation. Rolling, he smashed his sword through the drow’s chest, carving right through into its evil heart. The drow fell on him, both swords striking stone to either side of Henry’s head.
The boy shoved the corpse away even as the elves at the tunnel mouth charged in one screaming, frenzied mass. A solid rain of crossbow bolts hissed forward. Polk whirled the portable hole outward like a cape, and the incoming darts flew harmlessly into the hole. Polk then grabbed the boy and ran.
“Strategic withdrawal, son!” Polk bellowed out like a wild bull as he ran. “Justicar! We have a problem!”
More drow sped fast along the flanks to cut the retreating humans off. Henry pushed Polk back to run for safety just as a random dart pierced his calf from behind. Henry arched and froze.
Polk turned, saw the boy stiff and paralyzed, then grabbed Henry by the arm as the boy collapsed.
“Son!”
The teamster shoved Henry into the portable hole and threw the magic crossbow after him. A drow sprang like a mad locust straight at Polk’s back. The teamster turned and drew his last loaded hand crossbow, shooting the drow through the face.
The dark elf warrior fell lifeless to the stone floor, but a female drow leaped over the corpse and struck with her short sword. The blade speared straight through Polk’s chest. The teamster gasped and teetered even as something flashed past his shoulder to explode like a bomb, crashing the drow off her feet.
“Bitch!”
Frenziedly beating her enemy to death, Escalla jammed her lich staff into the creature’s open mouth and triggered the weapon’s power. The drow detonated, and Escalla tumbled on the blast, showered by yet more gore.
Polk teetered, gasping and choking on his own blood, then fell. Escalla opened the portable hole under him even as a dozen crossbow shots hissed past her. With Polk inside, the faerie towed the hole awkwardly behind her as she fled, dragging it like a blanket.
* * *
Half a mile away, a solid column of refugees poured through the bone gate, occasionally trampling one of their own number. Lolth staggered and lurched into the columns of her own temple, clutching her face and screaming like a soul in torment. Drow fell, telepathically suffering their goddess’ hangover. Escalla found Jus hovering beside the gate and blinking blankly as though it would clear his blindness. Escalla grabbed the man by the elbow and led him to the archway.
Jus stared about as he heard the sound of onrushing hordes of drow. “Are Polk and Henry safe?”
“I’ve got them! It’s not good.” Escalla shoved the portable hole into Jus’ hands. “But they must have killed at least a hundred drow!”
“Good men.”
“Polk’s hit bad!” Escalla screamed. “Real bad, Jus!”
“How many are left?”
“Huh?” Escalla gave Jus a confused look.
“How many captives? I can’t leave until they’re all out!”
Escalla did a quick estimate. “A few moments! When I say go, then get through quick!”
Lolth blundered closer, trying to focus on the departing sacrifices. More and more drow were flooding from the tunnel, charging toward the temple gates. Moving fast, Escalla dipped down and rapped her knuckles upon Benelux’s hilt.
“Hey, Spiky! Where did you say you were forged?”
The positive energy plane! The sword gave a self important cough. The pure energy that formed the building blocks of all matter, the—
“Is it hot?” Escalla cut he
r off.
Hot? Benelux swelled with grandeur. Imagine the inside of a vast, undying, ever-churning sun. Imagine pure light and heat eternally exploding upward like a fountain of power! Imagine—!
“All right, that’s hot. That’s perfect!” Escalla chased the last few dozen prisoners through the bone gate. “People, we are leaving!”
Escalla looked around desperately. The last battered refugee in sight stumbled through. If there were more, they were on their own. She couldn’t wait any longer.
Escalla shoved Jus forward, and he disappeared. Seeing her prey escaping, Lolth reared and screamed. The demon’s head swam to the nightmarish effects of vintage sixty-three. Lurching sideways, all eight legs churning and slipping, the colossal spider blundered through her own altar, sending the bowl of blood clanging to the ground. The temple guards had fled, but the drow from the main caverns were closing fast. Escalla gave a last look over the underdark, tucked severed hand and lich staff underneath her arm, then quickly sped away.
She shot through the great bone arch, popped out of a mirror, and bounced upon a trampled, crushed, and altogether broken bed. She flew out the room’s shattered windows to wave to a faerie who stood goggling at the vast crowd of refugees milling on his lawns.
Naked, blood smothered, and carrying a severed hand, Escalla gave the faerie a salute.
“Hey, Dad! Did you miss me?”
* * *
The blindness was clearing.
Jus blinked, holding onto a broken balustrade as he stared at once beautiful gardens that were now trampled flat by two thousand panicked feet. Refugees had swarmed over the lawns, where a dozen faerie sorcerers held them in a magic fence. Lord Charn hovered, tearing his hair out, appalled at the destruction to his home.
The splinter and crash of breaking woodwork sounded as one last refugee thundered through the magic portal—a gateway that exited from an ornate mirror mounted on Escalla’s bedroom wall. Velvet curtains had been torn down as a solid battering ram of humans, elves, halflings, half-orcs, and even a dwarf or two had charged over a balcony and into the sylvan gardens beyond.
Descent into the Depths of the Earth Page 29