Crypt of the Moaning Diamond (23 page)

“You can keep the chain mail,” said Osteroric. “It is too small for me.”

“Still, I would not trade my armor for something of lesser value,” said Sanval, in as reasonable a tone as possible, because Osteroric was at least a head taller than him and bulging with muscles clearly visible under his furry skin. Remembering one former tutor’s advice to know one’s enemy, he added, “Why would so powerful a being as yourself need more armor?”

“You will see,” said Osteroric with a shiver. Norimgic gave a snarl that almost ended with a whimper. The big bugbear patted his brother on the arm. Norimgic began to chide Osteroric in a series of snarls and growls.

“He thinks that I am too friendly to humans,” translated Osteroric. “Blind trust in the honor of soft-skinned bipeds is what got us here in the first place, he says. By that he means that we should never have listened to Archlis when he promised to fill our bellies with more meat than we had ever tasted. Still, it was better than what Fottergrim offered us. He threatened to take off our heads and stuff them down our throats if we lost Archlis in the ruins one more time.”

They turned another corner. Twitching at each footstep, Osteroric slowed his pace. Beneath his helmet, his fuzzy ears were tilted flat back against his skull. Before them, a small round chamber revealed numerous entrances to other tunnels, radiating out from the chamber like spokes on a wheel. Around the arched and empty doorways, hundreds of symbols had been carved: some were elaborately detailed, and others hastily scratched. In the light of his torch, Sanval could pick out one small sentence scratched in Common. “Here I fought, and here I die. Remember…” but the name was obliterated by another symbol written over it, in another style. It was as if every treasure hunter and adventurer who had dared the ruins of Tsurlagol had passed through this point and been compelled to try to leave some record of their passage.

“Better plug your ears,” Osteroric growled. Wondering what would worry a bugbear that much, Sanval felt the ground beneath his feet begin to shake. Suddenly a terrible sound, like some giant millstone grinding through his brain, echoed through the chamber.

Archlis handed his Ankh to Osteroric, and Sanval observed Ivy watch the transfer with hungry eyes. She looked ready to lunge for the Ankh, but Gunderal plucked her sleeve and whispered in her ear. Ivy glanced up to meet Sanval’s gaze. She shook her head just slightly. Warning him off? Wanting him to look away? Disapproving of his presence? Once again, he wished that he had the same unspoken communication with her that she made seem so effortless with her friends. Once or twice, he thought he knew what she wanted—if she had been from Procampur, it would have been easy for him to separate the sincere words from the formal courtesy. Not that Ivy cared all that much about courtesy, considering some of her more outrageous statements in front of such people as the Thultyrl.

“Do not step through the arch,” the magelord commanded them.

Making several complicated passes with his hands, Archlis muttered and spat his way through a series of phrases in an ancient tongue. Both Gunderal and Kid winced as the recitation continued, as if the words themselves were scratching across their skin. Archlis finally pulled another charm from his cloak and ground it between his hands, reducing it to dust. He sprinkled the glittering powder in the air. Something shimmered in the air before them.

“Watch,” Archlis instructed them, pointing at the empty chamber beyond the invisible barrier. A trio of huge beasts, light brown and dapple-striped in darker brown, shambled into the room. Hairless and hideous, they resembled nothing that Sanval had ever seen before. Two came through arches leading from different tunnels. The third clawed its way through a hole that opened up in the floor. The monsters jostled for space in the tiny chamber, clambering over each other. Their heads turned to the left and right, blindly questing for the source of the noise that had lured them out there just before Archlis had raised his spell.

“They have no eyes,” whispered Gunderal.

“But look at the size of their raggedy ears,” replied her sister.

“I’m noticing the size of those great long claws, myself,” said Mumchance, putting his hand on Wiggles’s head and pushing the little dog deeper into his pocket, as if that would protect her from the beasts. “And do you see all that ugly muscle in the tails? Must hit like a battering ram.”

“What are they?” asked Ivy, not taking her eyes off the beasts circling in frustration before them. Blind as they were, the great monsters obviously knew that there was prey close.

“Destrachans,” said Archlis. “Watch closely.”

One of the creatures lifted its round muzzle to the ceiling. Although they could hear nothing on their side of the invisible wall created by Archlis, a deep vibration shook the ground. The other two beasts also lifted their round, toothless mouths, looking much like a malevolent pack of reptilian hounds howling at the moon. The stone of the ceiling changed almost immediately, melting into a cascade of sand that splattered across the destrachans. Balancing up on their powerful tails, first one and then the next of the beasts used their giant claws to pull themselves into the hole created in the ceiling.

Sanval watched Ivy as the last of the creatures disappeared into the hole in the ceiling, a final flick of its big brown tail sending down a small avalanche of pebbles and sand. Ivy chewed on one gloved knuckle—the most obvious sign of nerves that Sanval had seen her display.

“What did you call them?” she asked Archlis, as the magelord retrieved his Ankh from Osteroric.

“Destrachans. They are rare but not entirely unknown in such ruins as these. They probably trailed into the underground passages following a migration of kobolds, a favorite food of the beasts.”

“So they are meat-eaters,” stated Ivy. “I did notice that they have no teeth.”

“That does not matter. They break their food down with waves of sound or pull it apart with those claws. They especially like intelligent food that they can play with before they devour it.”

“If you consider kobolds intelligent.” Zuzzara snorted, but Gunderal shushed her.

“Why not just hit them with one of those fire spells that you keep threatening us with?”

“Their cries can shatter metal,” admitted Archlis, “and dissolve stone. Also, they seem to have incredibly tough hides.”

“So you tried fire on them?”

“Not this group. But I have encountered this breed before. They are the bane of deep ruins.”

“And you think they will destroy your Ankh before you have time to destroy them.” Ivy was back to making statements, as if she were ticking off some mental list of disasters.

“It is a possibility that I would prefer not to consider,” Archlis explained. “The problem with destrachans is that they are sensitive to the slightest sound. Any noise near their lair brings them out hunting.”

Osteroric whispered to Sanval that was how he lost poor Hackermic, who caught the edge of the destrachans scream. “His armor became a cloud of… what would you call it,” he asked Norimgic. The bugbear’s companion rolled his eyes and hissed back. “A cloud of scintillating dust,” continued Osteroric. “I told you that Norimgic is a great poet. He is very good with words, even if he will not talk to humans. As for Hackermic, what the creatures did next to him was truly awful.”

Ivy’s discussion with Archlis was growing louder, which caused Osteroric and Norimgic to back farther away. Norimgic grunted something at Osteroric. “If she pitches her voice any higher,” said Osteroric, “she will bring the shrieking beasties back. She is a very formidable female, says Norimgic.”

“He is right,” said Sanval, watching Ivy cock her head forward so she was standing almost nose to nose with Archlis, her gaze locked with the magelord’s. It was a deliberate tactic, he realized—one that she had used to equal effect in the camp on the officers in the Thultyrl’s Forty and that camel she had punched out of her tent. If she could get Archlis to back down even one step, she would be on top of him in a flash. But Archlis was more resolute than a Procampur officer or a dromedary. He did not budge.

“You must lure the destrachans away from their lair,” Archlis said. “I am running out of bugbears, and they do not make good decoys. They are too slow and too easily caught.”

“Poor Hackermic.” Osteroric sighed.

“Why not just use that fancy spell of yours? Why not just sneak around them?” Ivy demanded.

“That fancy spell, as you call it, ends as soon as we pass through the barrier,” Archlis said, waving a hand at the sparkles of light still shimmering in the air.

Gunderal gave a little sniff and whispered to her sister, “And he doesn’t have any more charms like the one he just crushed. Have you noticed all his spells use other objects—no magic coming just from him.”

Archlis frowned but ignored the sisters. “We are still far from where I need to be, yet the sounds that we just made drew the destrachans immediately.”

“They are what forced you back the first time, not Fottergrim’s hobgoblins,” guessed Ivy.

“I retreated a strategic distance to consider my options,” Archlis said in dignified tones, looking down his long nose at Ivy.

“Ran like a hare,” said Mumchance to Kid, not trying to be quiet. Archlis ignored him too. “Why us?” Ivy pressed the point.

“I have no more silence charms,” Archlis admitted in a disgruntled tone.

Gunderal poked her sister in the ribs. Zuzzara patted her on the head in acknowledgment of her cleverness. Swatting her sister’s hands away, Gunderal pushed her topknot straight and fluffed up her side curls.

“So I need a distraction—something to lure the destrachans away from this tunnel,” said Archlis to Ivy. “You seem more intelligent than those hopeless hobgoblins or my

‘ bugbears. Destrachans like to play with their food. If you make the chase interesting, you can lead them a long way from here.”

“Which helps you and doesn’t help us. I fight for who pays me. Not for who is sure to get me killed. Same for all of us. Offer me something better than what he has.” To Sanval’s surprise, she pointed straight at him. He knew red-roof mercenaries sold their loyalty to the highest bidder, but still he had not expected so blatant an offering of betrayal from Ivy.

“If you can get the destrachans away from their lair and destroy them while I retrieve my treasure, then I will lead you out of the ruins,” promised Archlis. “Which is more rhan that gentleman can do.” Not seeing too much enthusiasm on their faces, the magelord added, “And a reasonable fee. Gems or gold. Whichever you wish. But only if I retrieve my treasure.”

Ivy pointed out that the odds of their success were not great, but she did not question whether Archlis would keep his promise. Sanval wondered at her ability to trust the skinny magelord’s word. Perhaps Ivy had lied to him earlier, and she or one of the other Siegebreakers did have some magic concealed about her person that would protect her friends and defeat the creatures. After all, everyone knew that red-roof adventurers had all sorts of fantastic abilities, and maybe she was just intending to run away from the magelord as soon as she and the other Siegebreakers were out of sight.

But Archlis could not succeed in his mission and return to the walls of Tsurlagol. Sanval knew that it was his duty to stop Archlis, even if it took him away from Ivy. Besides being the right thing to do, it might also be the best way to help Ivy and her friends. If he fought Archlis, the rest could escape. He just had to pick the right time for his ambush.

“So,” said Sanval to Osteroric. “You might have something worth trading for.”

Osteroric bent closer to Sanval to listen to his whispered instructions. The bugbear pushed back his battered helmet and scratched his fuzzy head. He puckered his lips and blew out a long and stinking breath. “Hsssh,” whistled Osteroric. “This could be big trouble for me. Bigger trouble for you. I wonder what Hackermic would have done.… He was even smarter than Norimgic.”

“Does that matter?” asked Sanval, loosening the straps on his breastplate.

“Not really,” agreed Osteroric. “Hackermic is dead. We are not.”

“Then we trade,” said Sanval.

“Then we trade,” said Osteroric. “But I think that you will end up the same as poor Hackermic.”

You have no choice,” stated Archlis. “You’re running out of time. Or didn’t you notice the water tricking along the floor there?”

With some dismay, Ivy saw that Archlis was right. The telltale silver streaks of water caught the light of the torches. Right now, only little puddles formed along the crack between the wall and floor; but she knew there was more coming.

“Eventually the river will flood out these ruins,” Archlis complained. “There must have been some storm in the mountains to bring this much water into the ruins so late in the summer.”

Ivy decided not to enlighten Archlis about the true cause of the river’s sudden rising. It probably would not improve their relationship. “So,” she said. “Any last suggestions on how to draw those beasts out?”

“Walk forward until you are on the other side of my spell wall,” Archlis said to Ivy. “Then start running. The destrachans will follow you. If you survive, follow us down that tunnel.” He pointed to an arched and shadowed entrance. “And if you try to follow us now, I’ll burn you where you stand.”

“We will do what you asked. But you must keep your part of the bargain as well.”

Archlis did not respond to her last comment. Instead, he suddenly grabbed Kid by one skinny arm. “The goat-boy stays with me,” said Archlis. “I need his skills.”

“That was not part of our bargain,” Ivy said. She lunged for Kid, but Archlis pulled him out of her way. Zuzzara swung her shovel at the magelord, intent on breaking his hold on Kid. Rather than hitting Archlis, the shovel twisted in her hands and bounced back, striking her on the top of her head. Zuzzara sat down abruptly. Gunderal immediately raced to her sister’s side, standing above the dazed half-ore, and raised her hands, her own injury forgotten.

“Do not even try, little genasi,” said Archlis. “My charms make me immune to any and all magical attacks.”