by Paul Kidd
13
Cracked ribs, bruises, concussion…
This had not been one of Escalla’s better days. Her stoneskinspell had stopped punctures but had transmitted the shock right though to the bones. Painfully awake at last, Escalla felt herself being tended to. Wounds were tended and her face wiped semi-clean. Sitting cradled in Jus’ lap, Escallasmoldered, thinking dire thoughts about the drow. She opened one bloodshot eye and said, “So. Fireproof cloaks, poisoned arrows, they use magic, move silently,and are immune to magic at least half of the time…” Extremely miffed, thegirl lifted her arm and suffered to have another healing spell across the ribs. “Apart from that, we’re pretty even.”
Bandaged and grim, Jus merely kept on with his work, healing the faerie. “We got them.”
“Yeah, and they almost got us!”
Unconcerned, Jus shrugged and said, “‘Almost’ still makesthem dead and us alive.” He poured water onto a cloth and handed it to Escalla.“How do you feel?”
“Like crap!” With dried blood crusting her hair and skin,Escalla looked a mess. “My ribs are better though.”
“Good.”
Jus arose. He had a puncture in one thigh, as well as numerous gashes and painful, bloody cuts. He lowered Escalla to her feet and handed her a long strip of silken drow cloth as a dress. Escalla used it for cover as she tried to rub herself dean and shot a concerned look at the Justicar.
“Hey, man! You’re still ripped to bits!”
“You needed the healing more than I.” Jus moved slowly andheavily now that his wounds were stiff with pain. “I’ll have more healing spellstomorrow.”
“Damn!” Escalla threw her washcloth aside. “We can’t gotraipsing along these tunnels without you in full fighting trim. We’ll get wipedout.” The girl roughly tied the sheer black silk into a dress. “We’re going tohave to hole up for a day and let you rest.”
The huge ranger sighed heavily, then looked at the drow corpses lying splayed and smeared about the tunnel.
“Not here. They might have a relief.”
“There are side alcoves. We’ll get in one, and I’ll cover theentrance with an illusion spell.” The girl flew up to hold Jus by the hand inconcern. “You sure you’re all right to walk?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Come on then. Let’s get the loot sorted out, then we’ll walkfor half a mile and hide.” The girl heaved an irritated sigh. “I feel like suchan idiot. Virtually everything I threw at them was blocked.”
“Change your strategy. Use spells that affect the area aroundthe drow and not ones that attack the drow themselves.”
“You got it.” Escalla scowled and tried to think. “I’ve gottahole up and redo my spell list.”
Working with the diligence of a true monomaniac, Polk had been searching the drow lairs. Apparently the proper cataloging of spoils was a vital part of adventure. Polk sat cross legged amidst his chronicle and pens, carefully recounting every single sword blow, dodge, and spell. Escalla threw the man a happy little wave and was given a grumble in return.
“Hey, Polk! Nice crossbow shot, man. I didn’t know you couldshoot!”
“Had to save the boy.” Polk sniffed in self importance as hewent about his work. “The boy’s no hero. Can’t interfere with a hero, but theboy needed help.”
Escalla kissed Polk upon the cheek and said, “Well thank you.Here’s the magic bottle.”
She placed the faerie bottle into Polk’s lap-big and alreadybrimming with a whiskey so concentrated that it could strip paint and raise the dead. The girl shot Polk a dire glance. “And no faerie wine! Especially not thesixty-three!”
Infinite happiness filled Polk’s soul. He wrenched open thebottle, filled a tin mug, then drew in an important breath, rose, and presented the liquor to the Justicar. He poured more drinks for Escalla and for the teenage soldier, then contented himself with drinking straight from the bottle.
“Here’s to adventure! Next time we’ll bash a hundred more!”
The whiskey traveled down living gullets as though it had spines and claws. Private Henry almost coughed up a lung. He fought for breath, tears in his eyes, a look of horror on his face as he saw Escalla raise her little mug to him in salute and take a second draught.
“Here’s to you, kid!”
Polk happily arranged items from the looted drow in a line along the floor. There were a few scant pieces of gold, a few platinum coins, short swords, daggers, bucklers, crossbows, poisoned crossbow bolts, and bloodstained clothes. Most intriguing of all were scroll tubes lined up side by side. Escalla raced over to pry open the tubes-only to be frozen in place by onehard glare from the Justicar. The ranger picked up the tubes one by one, checking them carefully. Cinders sniffed for magic then happily began to wag his tail.
Clean!
“Hoopy!” Escalla pounced, ripped the cap off a tube, andfound only a piece of parchment covered with lines and squiggles. She hastily moved to the next tube, opened it, and found that it was the same.
“Aww man! These aren’t scrolls!” She scowled petulantly atthe parchments, turning them around and around. “Can’t these drow even gettreasure right?”
The Justicar winced as he sat down with the first piece of parchment spread out across his knees. He examined the carefully inked lines with notes and pointing arrows scribbled beside the diagrams in a different hand. He held the drawing up in the shine of Cinders’ flames, checkingcarefully for secret messages and invisible ink.
Escalla wound up draped over his shoulder from behind, staring at the diagrams.
“What is that thing? Dark elf doodles?”
“No.” Jus smoothed the parchment in grim distaste. It seemedto be made from human skin. “It’s a map.”
“Yeah?” To Escalla the squiggles hardly seemed map-like. “Howdo you figure that?”
“A simple one. A map of the underdark.” The map was made ofsimple lines, interconnected with symbols marking many of the junctions. “See.This arch is the gate outside. This is the passageway we’re in. The area markedhere with an eye? It’s this position here, the guard post.”
“Hoopy.” Escalla squinted carefully at the map. Polk andPrivate Henry gathered near. “Lotsa notes beside those symbols. Do you readDrow?”
“No. Do you have a spell or something that can do it?”
“Sure!” Escalla cast the appropriate spell. “There you go!”
They all craned forward with interest-even Polk, whosespelling skills were dubious at best, and Private Henry, who feared to admit that he couldn’t read. Escalla ran her fingers over the lines of scribbledsymbols, and for an instant thereafter, their meaning became sharp and clear.
“Main way-patrols, Eclavdra clan.” The faerie read thesymbols scribbled beside the main route marked on the map. “Here’s us. Says,‘Post one. Incoming secret addits one and two. Faerie of the mother kin allowedto pass.’” The girl wrinkled her freckled nose. “Mother kin?”
“Follower of Lolth. Our quarry.” The Justicar tapped the map.“Looks like the paths diverge just down here. What are the notes on the nextjunction?”
“Ah!” Escalla glared at the magically transformed writing,trying to make sense of it, then decided that drow simply couldn’t spell.“Il-ilithids…” The girl jerked forward in alarm. “Ilithids!”
Standing awe-stricken behind the Justicar, Private Henry blinked like an owl. “What’s an ilithid?”
“Mind flayers. Oh, they’re great! You’ll love ’em!” Escallawaved her hands theatrically about her head. “Imagine a super-poweredmind-blasting psychopath that can stun your mind at will and wants to eat your raw, ungarnished brain!” The faerie jotted marks across the map. “This says,‘Ilithids’-plural!” The girl circled the location hard and sharp with apen procured from Polk. “I wanna meet a bunch of ilithids like I want to be fedrot-grub. Definitely we go around!”
The Justicar looked at the maze of minor tunnels marked on the maps, each one marked with a danger symbol by the drow.
&
nbsp; “The mam path might be faster,” he said, “if we can pass themind flayers.”
“Jus, you pass the mind flayers. Those of us withtasty delicious brains in our craniums might elect to just avoid the dinner invitation, all right?” The girl shot a grumbling look at the Justicar. “We goaround!”
“All right.”
“Anyway, faerie brains are more highly evolved than humanones. They’re tastier.”
With her spell slowly failing, Escalla shook her finger to jazz up the magic, then hurriedly went back to the map.
“There’re other caves definitely blocking the way. Here’s thefirst. ‘Reptile caves-pass security level one.’ I’m guessing that’s where thetrogs hang out.” Escalla’s finger traced paths and still more symbols changed.“Next zone down: ‘Kuo-toa-security pass code two,’ whatever that means.”
“Evil sentient fish.” Jus glowered a the map. “Go on.”
“Well, that’s about it.” Escalla traced lines that finally ledto a giant symbol far to the north: a huge cave topped with a drawing of a black spider. “The passages all pretty much lead there. I’m guessing that’s home.”
The locator needle seemed to agree with the map. Whoever carried the slowglass gem, he was heading northwest straight toward the drow citadel.
It would take a superhuman effort to make the journey, recover the slowglass, and fathom the motives of the murderer. Fortunately, Escalla considered herself and her friends superhuman. She helped herself to a swig from the ever-full bottle-now mysteriously full of peach brandy-and clappedher hands as Jus noisily rolled up the map.
“All right people, let’s move on!” The girl marched about theplace like the leader of a circus troupe. “Henry, poison your crossbow boltswith the drow drugs! In fact, take the whole poison pot and dip your sword! Polk, let’s get going!”
The drow had carried small brooches coded with patterns and squiggles. Jus knelt and seized a random selection, then began the hard march into the dark.
Half an hour later, a tiny campfire made from lantern oil andfungi spread a yellow light about a nasty little cave. Dinner sizzled and gave off an amazingly offensive smell. Sitting cross legged in her black silk dress, her bottom planted upon Cinders, who lay staring in fascination at the fire, Escalla wrenched another piece off the roast and tried to fit it in her mouth.
“Look on the bright side! At least everybody gets adrumstick!”
Each sitting with a leg from a really big spider in their laps, both Polk and Private Henry managed to give watery smiles while wondering how to hide their food. Jus sat in silence, crunching upon spider meat. With his armor lying spread beside the fire, the Justicar was a mass of bandages.
The magic whiskey bottle wet the cloth Escalla used to dab his wounds. Jus heaved and bucked in pain, snarling imprecations at the faerie. She sat primly in place, holding her wash cloth and looking at the Justicar through hooded eyes.
“Don’t be such a baby. We have to get these clean.”
“They are clean!”
“They are not. These tunnels are filled with fungus. We’llclean you up and use nice fresh bandages, then in a few hours your healing spells will make you all better.” Escalla moved with a matronly, possessive airas she tended the Justicar. “You’re my pal, so we have to take good care ofyou.”
Jus dragged his sword from his belt and lay it on the floor beside him where it could no longer jut into his ribs. Plumping up blankets on a nice dry patch of floor, Escalla made the man a bed.
“Now, you sleep. We need you at your best.” The sight of atiny faerie tucking in the large man seemed ludicrous, but Polk and Henry were too busy wrestling with their dinners to speak out. “Sleep tight!”
Lying painfully down, Jus gave a dissatisfied sigh. “Who’s onguard?”
“I am!” Escalla forcibly closed Jus’ eyes. “I have to stayup and relearn all my spells. Polk, Henry, and I will take care of it. So go to sleep and relax.”
Busying herself about the campsite, Escalla dragged out her spell references, a scrap of parchment, and a pen. She perched a rather attractive pair of spectacles upon her nose and looked across the rims at Jus, gave him a rather sardonic, challenging little smile, and then set about her work. Her pen scratched, the fire crackled, and slowly the Justicar began to sleep.
Polk and Henry turned in, each wrapping themselves in drow cloaks to keep away the chill. They kept weapons close at hand and slept far away from the entrance. Private Henry watched Escalla, so prim and pretty in the firelight, as she jotted down her notes. He managed a nervous smile when the faerie caught his eye.
Escalla waved her pen.
“G’night, kid. It’s all right.” She tapped her tall, pointedfaerie ears. “Anything comes waddling down the passageway, and I promise poochand I’ll scream.”
The youth half wondered if it was a joke, but he decided not to look foolish and rolled over, too tired to stay awake.
The fire crackled. Escalla wrote, and slowly and surely her companions sank into a dead silent sleep. Cinders grinned. Escalla thoughtfully fingered his rents and cuts, then flipped through her little scrolls.
“Hey, pooch. Repair spell time?”
No. Makes Cinders sleepy. The hell hound’s teeth gleamed.Cinders stay ripped. Stay awake.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be up for hours.” Escallasmoothed out the dog’s pelt then carefully spoke her spell and made the hide andfur go back to its usual pristine self. “There we go! Now you just lie there andlet it do you good while I warm my faerie butt by the fire!”
The hell hound purred, the repair spell stealing through him from nose to tail in a warm delicious haze. His voice actually sounded sleepy as it drifted into Escalla’s mind.
Nice faerie.
“You know it!” Escalla wriggled in Cinders’ fur then leaned over to give thedog a kiss “Nighty night.”
Night.
The tunnels were remarkably quiet. There was no time, no night, no day, no heat, and no rain. Water dripped, and the campfire slowly died. Keeping happily to her work, Escalla wrote and studied for an hour. While Jus slept, she dusted the big lug with a stoneskin spell, then made up her lost spells with another hour of careful thought. Finally she looked at her list and nodded carefully, stifling a yawn as she tried to see if there were any possibilities she had missed.
Another yawn came, this time wider than the last. “Spellshields, black tentacles, lightning bolts, couple of magic walls…”
Cinders’ fur was obscenely soft and silky. Escalla lay withher head propped on her elbow, a little blanket drawn up over herself as she worked. “A few”-another yawn-“few utilities. A charm… charm monster spell.”
It seemed a good idea to rest her eyes for a while, then awaken Polk for his turn on guard. Full of good intentions, Escalla never even felt herself slide beautifully off into the world of sleep.
The fire died down. The uneaten bits of roasted spider cooled. Cinders lay in a warm fuzzy daze, his tail occasionally twitching. In the caverns, all was peace and quiet as the water drip-drip-dripped endlessly from the mildewed walls.
After a long, peaceful time, the sound of movement came from the passageway. Bumbling along the tunnel came a single silly shape-a creaturequesting forward behind an absurd pair of long, thin feelers. Armored in a sturdy shell and searching the dark with addled eyes, the creature hunted after a particular delicious smell that seemed to quiver in the air.
The scent came from the travelers’ cave. Edging forward, thecreature pat-pat-patted with its feelers, tasting eagerly at the air. It stole forward just a little way, saw Escalla lying on the hell hound skin and the other figures wrapped in blankets by the fire. The creature shrank and kept perfectly still-timid and frightened-but the only sound was Escalla makinglittle chipmunk noises in her sleep.
The scent struck-sharp and utterly delicious! Overcomingfear, the creature edged slowly forward, then suddenly saw its prize lying on the cave floor nearby. Its feelers reached out toward the Justicar. A
long tail tipped with strange propeller-like blades waved happily in the darkness as the creature carefully began to feed.
Several minutes passed, then quite suddenly, Escalla shot bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide open and staring at the dark.
“Dad! The sculptures of me were all fakes. I swear!”
The creature froze, then bolted off in panic, its belly full and its legs galloping off into the gloom.
Far behind the fleeing creature, Escalla collapsed back in bed. Sleeping the deep sleep of the just, she snored raucously for many long and uneventful hours to come.
14
“ESCALLA!”
The noise shot Escalla up out of her bed, eyes wide open and her hands moving to snatch spellbooks, pens, and scrolls to look as though she were still working. She blinked about in a daze, only to see Jus looming over the dead campfire and wringing something in his hands. The faerie instantly turned invisible.
“It wasn’t me! It was Polk!”
Polk awoke in a mad confusion of blankets. “It’s a lie! Alie!”
“Of course it’s a lie!” Jus whirled, uncannily able to seeright through Escalla’s invisibility. “You slept on guard!”
“It’s not my fault! I was working! Everyone knows I fallasleep when I’m working!” Now near the ceiling, Escalla took shelter behind astalactite. “Look. Everyone’s still alive. What is your problem?”
Hundreds of pounds of stubble-headed fury paced like an enraged cave bear below Escalla’s hiding place.
“This is the problem!” Jus waved the wolf-skull hilt ofhis sword. “My sword! Something’s eaten the whole blade of my sword!”
The black blade was now nothing but a rusted stump about half a finger long. Escalla blinked back into view, hoping that calming words and a nervous grin were better than calming words alone.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“Then whose fault was it?!?” Jus’ bellow must have reachedhalfway to the drow citadel. “We left you in charge!”
“Well, Cinders was there!”