Descent into the Depths of the Earth (18 page)

“What do you know about drow?”

“Usual stuff.” Escalla sat on Jus’ shoulder, where she could
whisper in quiet to Jus and Cinders. “Evil, live underground, slave takers,
spider obsessed… Females are more powerful than males. Oh, and the females
have a dress sense that makes
me
look like Saint Cuthbert’s maiden aunt!”
The girl stroked her chin—a motion unconsciously copied from the Justicar.
“They’re poison users, too. Can we handle that?”

“It’s no problem.” Jus mentally counted through the spells
and powers at his command. “I can neutralize it with a spell.”

“Hoopy. So as long as you’re not the one that gets hit, we’re
all in clover.” Escalla sighed and rested her chin on her hand. “No one’s tied
the drow to this before? Why hasn’t there been any sign of elves?”

A bright, mad grin shone in the darkness

Cinders smelled!
The hell hound seemed immensely pleased
with himself.
Cinders smelled them—yes! Elfie-pixie-faerie smell. Smelled at
Sour Patch, first time!

“Yep. Got me there.” Escalla nodded acceptance and patted the
dog. “You sure did, pooch. We just forgot to take note.” Escalla gave a sigh.
“Sorry. I owe you a tail rub.”

Welcome.

The scrub thinned. Just ahead of Jus, the sergeant stood in
the light of Private Henry’s lantern, wearing the triumphant look of someone
about to share confusion and perplexity.

The trail of crushed and broken bushes ended on a broad,
roughly circular patch of grassy ground. At the middle of the huge clearing
stood a ring of standing stones.

The stones were massive slabs of granite, moss covered
monoliths that seemed to have sprouted from the Flanaess itself. Each pair of
stones was topped by a capstone to form a titanic arch. The trail ended at the
base of one archway, the footprints once again cut off as though sliced with a
knife.

It was a familiar enough sight. Escalla looked the offending
archway up and down as she hovered before it in midair.

“Jus? Check the locator thingie.”

The ranger opened his pouch and duly produced the charm. It
swiveled, settled, and hung pointing south without making so much as a twitch.
Escalla looked at it in interest then paced busily up and down.

“Damn! They’re still miles away!”

“No matter.” Storing away the charm, the Justicar arose and
looked at the stone circle. “The murderer must be linked to these slave raids.
It looks like they might be following the same route.”

“Yeah.” Escalla’s frown faded then suddenly was replaced by a
look of sly, brilliant joy.
“Yeah!”

Sidling past Polk, the girl ended up beside the sergeant.

“Sarge? Saaay, this king of yours…” Escalla tapped the
fingers of her hands together, suddenly the heart and soul of avarice. “If we
were to free these poor lost citizens of yours and maybe detonate whoever’s
behind these raids, do you feel the king might express his joy in a physical,
maybe fiscal
type of way?”

“Huh?”

“You know, in a material fashion.” The girl excitedly waved
her hands. “An openhanded expression of esteem. Royal pleasure demonstrated
though means of treasury assets.”

The sergeant scratched his head, giving a confused look at
the little faerie girl. “You mean is there a reward?”

“Yes! If you want to get all uncouth about it!”

“Well, Ma’am, that is, Miss, I believe the reward stands at
ten thousand gold pieces.”

“Ten!” Goggling, Escalla waved her hands, almost lost for words, then came
racing up to shake the sergeant by the hand. “Kick back, man! Relax! We’ll deal
with it!” The faerie halted suddenly. “Does this king of yours have a name?”

“Umm…”

“Great! Tell King Um that Escalla’s on the job!” The girl
turned a back flip, ending up beside Polk, who was sneaking yet another drink
from his faerie bottle. “Polk, let’s get busy! Time to show these guys that
their worries are at an end!”

Always happy to see activity, Polk corked his magic bottle.
The man had apparently been sneaking more than just a wee drink or two to
sustain him on the march. He wiped his mouth and gave a happy, addled cry.

“That’s great! Well, come on. Time’s a-wastin!” The little
man picked up his feet. “Lezz go!”

Jus wearily uncoiled the magic rope from his belt—a
shortened, somewhat scorched souvenir from a battle with an erinyes—and whipped
it out to entangle Polk. The Justicar hauled Polk in like a flapping fish, took
one sniff at him and gave a huge, threatening growl.

“You’re drunk!”

“Never, son!” Polk seemed far happier than any man on a
murder investigation had a right to be. “It’s just high spirits! Glad we’re on
the job!”

Jus growled. There were too many things to occupy him.
Looking at the stone circle, the ranger called, “Escalla! Just tell me how we’re
supposed to trigger these damned gates! Is there a spell to tell us what the
keys might be?”

“Sure there is!”

“So throw the spell.”

“I can’t. I don’t know it.” Escalla waved innocently. “Like
we use it every day! Come on, man, we’re going into battle! I just tanked myself
up with shields and fireballs!”

Jus pried the ever-full liquor bottle away from the
complaining Polk and asked, “So how do we find the key?”

“Hey, J-man!” The girl circled, taking possession of the
ever-full bottle. “You’ve got to think practically! The trick with these gates
is that sometimes you might get here and not be carrying the right key, so you
always hide a few spare keys somewhere you can reach ’em. Our murderer came here
about an hour or two ago, so just look for any place real close that looks like
a hiding place!”

Escalla searched the column tops and the crowns of a few
nearby trees. The sergeant, Private Henry, and their unnamed companions spread
out with lanterns to look beneath toadstools and stones. Jus dragged Polk along
by the scruff of his neck as he set about searching for anything out of place.
The pure white of his light-stone showed his face grim and seething.

Polk struggled, and the Justicar snarled in dark, dire anger,
“Polk, don’t you ever,
ever
get drunk on the job again!”

“But son, I’m making your chronicles! It’s to help my
creative flow!” Polk waved his hands. “It was the kelp, wasn’t it? All right, I
can change to beer when we’re actually on the job!”

“Polk, you get the bottle back at rest stops. One cup at
lunch, one cup at night, and nothing more!”

The hapless teamster wailed like a child deprived of his only
toy, but Jus dragged him on.

Ten minutes of fruitless searching yielded no surprises
except one edible truffle and a family of voles. Annoyed and still battling with
Polk, the Justicar yelled up to Escalla as she flew amongst the monoliths,
“Escalla, did you find anything?”

“No.” The girl seemed miffed. “I looked in all the good
places! It’s always somewhere close! I mean, what if you were in a hurry?”

“You’re supposed to be an expert!”

The faerie lost her temper. “I
am
an expert! You
people think you can do a better job, then just fly up here and do it yourself!”

Losing patience, Jus stood and bellowed, “Just tell us what
the damned key’s likely to be!”

“It could be anything!” Equally annoyed, Escalla flew
backward as she spoke. “It could be a herb, a fruit, a rock, a flower, diamonds,
silver, a flute, a dead rat… For all we know, it could be the golden hairs
from a virgins—!”

Escalla passed through the arch above the tracks, and
suddenly magic flashed in a sharp, white light that lit the entire hilltop. For
a split second, Jus saw a look of astonished embarrassment on Escalla’s face—and
then the girl was gone. The gateway still shimmered with magic.

With only seconds to act, Jus picked up Polk, ran toward the
gate, and bellowed over his shoulder, “Sergeant, thank you! We’ll be back!”

Jus leaped through the gate, Cinders swirling about his back.
There was a flash, then Jus landed on dry soil that stank of sulphur. Cinders
made an appreciative noise, sucking in the stink of smoke and flame. The night
sky above was lined by the vicious teeth of a mountain range, teeth back-lit by
hellish volcanic flames. A natural archway of rock formed the magic door behind
them. Polk sat blearily looking at the volcanoes. Leaping about like a mad
locust doing an interpretive dance, Escalla clutched at her groin and pranced
about in pain.

“Damn it! Assa frassa fragin
dammit!”
The girl made a
mad little dance in the dark. “Holy Hanali, that
stings!”

Jus rose, disoriented by his passage through the gate. “What
stings?”

“Mind your own business! Ow! Ow!
Oooow!”

Jus poised himself to investigate further, when suddenly
there came a flash, and fresh light flooded through the gate.

Private Henry sat up in the dust, blinking in fright. The
young soldier sat up, then yelped as Jus hauled him to his feet with one mighty
heave of his hand.

Too late. The gate snapped shut, its eerie light cutting off
to leave the archway dead and dim. Jus planted himself before the young soldier
and roared, “What are you doing here?”

“Sir! Um, well, sir…” Terrified, the boy looked up at the
vast, grim figure looming over him. He helpfully offered his lantern “I… I
brought a light, sir!”

“That’s wonderful.” The Justicar turned to the faerie. “All
right, Escalla. Send him back.”

“No.”

Jus turned to look in astonishment at the faerie, who hovered
unhappily nearby.

“Jus, I
can’t.”
She looked embarrassed, pained, and
evasive all at once. “I haven’t got any key material left! The gate took it
all!”

“The gate took it all?”

Jus blinked, recoiled, and for two heartbeats his countenance
froze. Then his whole face lit into a smile. The big man suddenly folded forward
and bit his fist. Huge shoulders shook, then a laugh escaped him to shake and
shatter the night. He laughed for the first time in public memory, laughing all
the harder once he saw Escalla’s face. The Justicar laughed so hard he cried.

Escalla stood flapping her mouth in indignation, then turned
away, her ears flaming bright. “Oh right! Sure, sure.
Now
it’s funny!
What happens when we need to go back?”

Cinders snickered like a mad thing, his tail whirling madly
round and around.
Funny!

Jus was having trouble breathing. One look at Escalla set him
off laughing again. “A white wedding dress… !”

The girl swelled up in righteous anger. “All right! Yes, I
admit it! I qualify. I qualify for a white wedding dress! Right!
There!
Are we all happy now?”

Jus almost choked.
“No one
touches the faerie!”

Escalla seethed, folded her arms across her breasts, and
turned away. “Oh, go bite a purple worm’s butt!”

* * *

In the pitch dark world of the Dreadwood, tiny lights dipped
and swirled though the treetops. The forest floor glowed the sickly colors of
dreams as savage little shapes tore through the woods in search of prey.

Beside a burned and ruined village, among corpses and old
apple trees, an elf hound ran sniffing wickedly at the ground. The creature
leaped up to land upon an upper branch and found a scent clinging to the bark.
He gave a long, flute-like howl.

Two faerie warriors flashed into visibility. They flew up to
the branch and joined the elf hound, then pulled out a hunting horn and blew a
low, moaning note that echoed above the trees.

Long minutes later, Lord Ushan arrived.

The faerie lord still wore his robes that swam with all the
colors of flame, but now the fire ran blue and white instead of red. The lord
knelt beside his hunters and fingered a single strand of perfect golden hair
that had caught upon the apple bark.

He breathed a long, slow breath of triumph and turned his
face toward the waiting apple trees.

The warriors watched and waited while Lord Ushan of Clan
Sable let his thoughts drift with the wind.

The gate could lead almost anywhere and pursuit was no longer
the top priority. A great many plans had worked well tonight.

It was enough.

Lord Ushan made a slashing motion with his hand. The warriors
sheathed their swords then flashed back into invisibility, their wings whirring
as they shot off into the gloom.

* * *

Twenty minutes after their arrival, the group stood at the
lip of a chasm that plunged deep into the earth. Volcanoes lit the distant
horizon, ebbing and pulsing like blood. The red light made the shadows seem
darker and more filled with menace, and the whole landscape seem to shift and
move in hunger. The air held a stink of sulphur, ash, and acidic rain. Cinders
breathed it in like a breath of holiday air, while his companions’ noses snorted
from the hellish stink.

The tracks of hundreds of feet led down treacherous paths
toward the chasm floor. Skeletons and corpses glimmered in the ebbing volcanic
light, showing where some captives had slipped and tumbled to their doom. In
this grim scene, the only sounds were the distant hiss of steam from the
volcanic range and a sudden snicker from the Justicar.

Stung and indignant, Escalla shot the man a dire glare.

“Will you stop it with the laughing already? Enough!” The
girl tossed her golden hair. “I just happen to be saving myself for Mister
Right.”

“While dressing like Miss Wrong!”

“No one likes you, Jus! We took a poll!” The faerie waved her
hand toward the chasm. “Now if we are all
quite
ready, would you take a
reading with the locator spell?”

Jus and Polk were utterly incapable, their hands still weak
and shaking from their suppressed laughter. Seething, Escalla relieved them of
the locator needle and stood at the precipice, unraveling the needle’s string.
As she made ready, Private Henry stood over her, looking skinny as a bean pole
and about as dangerous as a mouse. Escalla saw the lantern quiver and shot the
boy a glare that could have shattered stone.