Depths of Madness (23 page)

“Good morn, little one,” she said as Slip thumped down with a sigh. She reached over and put an arm around the halfling’s shoulders, as one might a child. Since her horror of the night before—which might have been a dream, anyway—she had

found nothing as comforting as the small one—not her clothes, not her sword, not Liet.

After a time, Slip spoke, quietly and hesitantly. ” ‘Light, I’ve a favor to ask.” Her innocent voice sounded particularly meek in the dark cavern.

“I’m a great proponent of conversation. Say on.”

“Well,” the halfling started. She contemplated the dark spot she was busy scuffing on her boot. “If I paid you enough… would you… kill Davoren for me?”

Twilight bit her lip, not a little stunned. Slip was always so compassionate, so loyal, so… good, for lack of a better term. Twilight could hardly believe the little woman could ask such a question.

“What could you possibly have to pay me?” asked Twilight.

“I could save the strongest healing magics of me lord for you,” the halfling said. The words sounded so blatantly strategic. “If you’d do this thing, I—”

“Firstly, there can be no alliances,” Twilight said. “If any of the others perceive us as partners, or even as friends, it will spark a schism. I do not want to worry about the others plotting against me, or you, or both of us.”

“But—”

“No alliances. If I’m wounded, it’s just the same as if Gargan, Liet, or, aye, even Davoren were wounded.” She clutched Slip’s arm tightly. “I want your word on that.”

Slip’s eyes fell and she sniffed. “Fine,” she said, defeated.

“Secondly, do I look like an assassin?” asked Twilight. “Gods, no. I’m a thief, just like you. I don’t kill for coin. Might as well be a dinger, or a fen, for that matter, winning with brute force and manual labor what I couldn’t get through finesse.” That she slipped into cant, referring to a thug and a prostitute, should have told Slip something. From her blank eyes, it didn’t, so Twilight stopped. “I have a little more self-respect than that.”

It was difficult to tell if Slip was pleased or disappointed.

“And thirdly, the prime reason you can’t pay me to kill Davoren,” said Twilight, leaning in close. She adopted a cold tone. “I’d gladly do it for free.”

Slip giggled and Twilight grinned, though she didn’t laugh. Slip was more than she seemed, and something she’d said had struck Twilight as wrong, but damned if she could place it. She was too tired.

The events of the previous night had drained her and left her numb—empty. She knew, however, what the others expected of her, and she could use it to her advantage. She felt like her old self again—or one of them, anyway. Taslin’s blood had been a shock. Things couldn’t continue as they had. Something had to change.

She hugged the little halfling tightly. Nervous about Liet, Twilight was glad of Slip’s companionship. Perhaps she had her mysteries, and perhaps she was less than stable, but at least Twilight could rely on her to be mysterious and less than stable. And if there was a spy, she would need someone she could trust.

“We go by the south door,” Twilight announced when they were ready to depart.

The teactions were myriad and telling. Liet bit his lip. Davoren rolled his eyes. Gargan shrugged noncommittally, and Slip balked. Liet thought they were past this, but whatever had happened to her this morning must have changed that.

“B-but,” Slip said. “You said…”

“It matters not what I said,” replied Twilight. “But let us be more specific. You four shall take the route south of the sanctum, which I know leads up.”

“How?” Davoren snapped.

Twilight flashed him a whimsical smile. “I wouldn’t be much of a thief if I didn’t scout ahead,” she said. “The door, which I have unlocked, leads steadily upward until it arrives at a trapdoor hidden in the ceiling, inscribed with the inverted Netherese runes we saw before. There, you will find your way.”

“What do you mean, ‘you’ will find?” asked Liet. “You’re coming with us, aye?”

“I rather fancy a jaunt through the east passage.”

“The east passage!” Slip exclaimed. “But why? And alone? ‘Light!” She ran to Twilight and threw her little arms around her—or, rather, around her legs. ” ‘Tis too dangerous! You can’t leave us!” Tears started to roll from Slip’s eyes.

Liet opened his mouth, but he was too stunned to speak. Was she mad?

“Pitiful whining whelp,” mused Davoren. “Let her go—and good riddance.”

“Oh, worry not, little one,” said Twilight kindly. “I’m sure nothing will be awaiting. My scouting of last night revealed simply a door I had yet to open, perhaps a chamber yet to be explored. No markings of lizards upon it. I doubt any of the creatures has opened it. I plan to stroll in, without taking any precautions.” She gave Slip a thoughtless wink.

“Gods, ‘Light—” Liet started, but Davoren laughed him to silence.

If the halfling had been afraid before, she was truly terrified at this news. She looked up with eyes wide as tureens. “You should come with us! Where ‘tis safe—er, safer/”She buried her head in the shadowdancer’s belly. “I can’t lose you, too!”

The elf beamed at her as though she had not a thought in her head. “Do not worry for my safety, little one. ‘Tis but a morning stroll—like you took in Crimel, yes?”

“No!” The halfling’s eyes flashed. “At least take one of us—take me, aye?”

“The half-wench raises a decent argument,” said Davoren. “Perhaps you should take someone, to make sure you are not hunting treasure—or arranging to betray us.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Twilight with a laugh. “Survival takes priority over gold. The simple acceptance of this fact is precisely what keeps the numbers of folk in my profession breathing steadily. And if I meant to slay you, you’d be quite dead.”

Davoren would not be deterred, though he looked a little unsettled by her manic demeanor. “Yet, we have only the word of a thief and a liar. I insist you take another.”

“Insistence noted!” Twilight said brightly. “Liet—”

“Oh, very well,” said Davoren, rolling his eyes and turning

away. He waved dismissively. “Take your handsome swain— this choice does not surprise me. And I’d be happy without his useless carcass slowing us.”

“Liet,” Twilight continued. “I place you in command.”

“What?” Liet and Davoren exclaimed at once.

Twilight pinched Liet’s cheek. “Listen to the lad’s word as you would mine,” she said. “As you have followed me, so you must follow him in my stead.”

“I ‘must’ do nothing!” Davoren roared, ruby energy flickering around his hands and arms. His fingers twitched toward the snarling dragon scepter at his belt. “I have sworn no oath—certainly none that involves following a bare-faced boy! I refuse!”

“Well then,” said Twilight, suddenly serious. “I shall simply have to kill you.” Betrayal hissed out and she leaned back into a fighting stance. Her eyes brooked no debate, and she showed no sign of mirth.

After a long, motionless breath, Davoren laughed. “Very well,” he said. “Play your game. I care not. I shall do as you ask, for now. Only know that mine shall be the last word, the last thrust, and the last smile.”

“You just keep reassuring yourself of that, handsome,” Twilight said as she sheathed the rapier. The warlock, it seemed, was successfully cowed.

As Gargan, Slip, and Davoren made the final preparations to move, Liet caught Twilight’s arm. “Is this wise?” he asked. “I don’t think—”

She touched his face with her fingers and traced down his stubbly cheek. “Nothing I do is wise,” she said. She touched her lips against his. “Only prudent.”

Then she kissed him, lightly at first, then harder, pressing her body against his. Not enough to warrant an outcry from the others, who stared.

Her farewell stunned Liet, remembering all the times Twilight had sent him from her side, so as to keep their affair a secret. Had she lost her mind? What was—

“Hmm,” Twilight murmured. She nuzzled at his chin.

“Be wary,” said Liet.

“I always am,” said Twilight whimsically. With that, she was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the yawning east doorway.

“She… kissed you,” Slip said, with awe, confusion, and something like jealousy. Liet wasn’t sure who Slip was jealous over.

“For luck,” said Liet. “Now, let’s be going.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid wench. Twilight berated herself as she made her way down the other path. Are you falling in love, or are you falling apart?

Both, she guessed.

She knew she shouldn’t have kissed him. But she’d been mad, right—that’s what they’d think, right?

Reality intruded, and Twilight was thankful for it.

Thirteen fiendish lizards, brandishing sickle blades and whips, crouched hissing and slavering in alcoves along a tight, winding corridor. They waited for a foolish creature to wander down that hall, the better to pounce and devour.

Crouching in the shadows around the corner from all that black, scaly flesh, Twilight considered stepping out to say well met. She decided against it, however, tending to avoid death and dismemberment on her part whenever possible.

So there is an ambush this way, she thought And the same fiendish lizards.

As she let the implications bounce around in the back of her mind, Twilight judged the length of the corridor. Two dagger-casts. Perfect.

Twilight did not bother to leave her hiding place in the shadows. She flowed into them, dancing through the darkness. Silently, she emerged at the far end of the corridor with none the wiser. Once again, she thanked Neveren Darkdance. The dastard had given her a great gift, even if he had ruined her.

Having expended much of her power for the day—she could not dance that distance again—it dimly occurred to her that she should consider how she would get back, but that was a matter for another time..

Ignoring the fiendish lizards at her back, Twilight strolled to the open archway.

This area did not suffer from the same filth and defacement that the rest of the complex evidenced. These lizards had not been here long, though how they could get past a locked door, Twilight did not know. She shuddered to think of what she might be facing, if it could somehow teleport its minions into position. Perhaps there was something to this “Mad Sharn” business after all, in which case Twilight was in trouble deeper than her pointy ears.

A glyph ran the archway’s length, and Twilight wished, not for the first time, that she had Asson beside her. The old man’s tranquility and magic would have been useful, as would his understanding of Netherese.

She tapped the earring she wore. If the words were spoken, she would understand them. Slip’s detection spell had set off the other warding, but Twilight did not…

Then an idea struck her.

She hated calling on her other powers, but sometimes blind curiosity got in the way of good grudges. Mouthing his name, she invoked a prayer he had taught her. It was not for detecting magic—thanks to Erevan’s kiss, she saw mystic emanations as she wished—but rather a spell for locating a missing item. In this case, she chose the archway. Though she knew exactly where it was, casting any spell upon it should…

Sure enough, a sibilant voice, speaking in an odd tongue, came to her ears, and she understood every word.

“The taint of evil kept without, the power safe within,” the ward said.

“Ah,” said Twilight. “Helpful.”

Just then, a horde burst into the chamber, screams of rage on their lips.

No choice, Twilight decided, and threw herself through the archway, hoping by Beshaba’s bodice that her instincts told her true.

Sure enough, nothing happened to her, but such was not the case for a few unfortunate lizards.

Green and blue fire arced from the runes along the archway, tearing into fiendish lizards, searing flesh apart and blackening bones. The creatures put up pitiful wails, cut short by the furious wards that cut them to pieces with flame. The wards killed six before the remaining seven fiendish lizards panicked and trampled over one another in their haste to get away.

Twilight would have stood laughing but for the unpleasant odor of the destroyed lizards lying in a heap at her feet. Then she turned and strode though another archway, this one plain, and stopped dead, staring.

“Sand,” she cursed.

As Twilight had promised, the four found no ambush awaiting them through the south door. This tunnel was of different design than the twisting, turning sewers. Rather, it was straight, two paces wide and thirty hands high, and rose gradually. Gargan led the way, with Liet and Davoren trailing at a few paces, and Slip taking the rear.

Liet wasn’t sure he trusted the halfling entirely—certainly not enough to put her at his back—but keeping close to Davoren was sure, ironically, to keep him safe. No one watched his skin like the warlock.

Liet wondered when he had become so cold and calculating. When had he shed his youthful mentality, his naiveri? When had he ceased to trust others, and started thinking in matters of practicality, questioning the motives of all who surrounded him?

When had he become just like Twilight?

The day you broke rule four, he told himself with an inward sigh.

The corridor rose for forty paces before terminating in a space for a lifting mechanism, like the one they had used to escape the prison level of this labyrinth. The platform was down on the floor, and it would rise if someone stepped upon it—if the magic of the place yet operated.

The platform did not even tremble as they stood upon it, and Gargan boosted each of the others, one by one, before pulling

himself up. The four moved down a tunnel toward a set of steps, and Gargan’s long strides took him swiftly to the front rank. Davoren watched approvingly, but Liet suspected it was more in quiet consideration of what the goliath could do to Davoren’s foes—his former allies—suitably armed and charmed. In all ways, the two seemed to be opposites.

Opposites… the thought bounced about in Liet’s mind, reflecting off walls of indecision and longing. He and Twilight were so opposite one another, yet so close.

He no longer tried to tell himself that Twilight meant nothing to him. The first night they spent together had changed that, but the feeling grew more intense as time passed. He dared not mention it, for Twilight would certainly…