Descent into the Depths of the Earth (19 page)

“Kid, don’t you say a frazin word!”

“No, ma’am!” The young soldier blinked in the lantern light;
his face seemed to be mostly composed of freckles, and he seemed to be in
absolute, worshipful awe of her. “Not one word. Not one!”

For once, someone seemed to be treating her like the
legendary sylvan overlord she really was. Escalla sniffed importantly, absurdly
soothed, and smoothed her long gloves.

The girl let the locator needle dangle, taking a reading on the whereabouts
of the slowglass necklace. The needle pointed straight down the canyon at a
good, sharp angle. The needle actually quivered, wavering happily from side to
side as though excited by the proximity of the prey. With a professional sniff
of disdain, Escalla put the locator needle away and flew over the path.

“This way.” Escalla magnanimously gave Private Henry a magic
light. “Here, Private. I will lead, and you may light the way.”

Having been given a magic light by a real faerie was
apparently the high point of the young soldiers life. He looked up at Escalla in
amazement, held up the magic light, and proudly began walking down the path,
crossbow in one hand and magic light in the other. Escalla made to go after him,
when Jus suddenly lumbered over to the trail.

“Escalla, we can’t take him with us!”

“Well he can’t stay here. He’ll get eaten.” The faerie gave
an expressive shrug. “He’s safest with us.”

With a sigh, Jus acknowledged the point. Finally composed, he
unsheathed his sword, the blade long, black, and comfortingly lethal, and walked
to the path.

“All right. Have him bring up the rear behind Polk. He can be
rear guard. You take the point, and I’ll be right behind you.” The Justicar
looked up at the faerie girl. “You got your spells memorized?”

“Sure! And you?”

“Healing, anti-poison…”

“So it’s all hoopy! We go in, kick troglodyte tail, release a
few thousand prisoners, catch that murderer, and retrieve the evidence!” The
girl gave an airy wave of her hand. “What could be simpler?”

The trail seemed long, the chasm deep. Back-lit by volcanic
fires, Jus stared down into the depths. “We only have a few days of rations and
about one gallon of water.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s a
dungeon!”
The girl flew
backward without a care in the world. “It’s just a hole in the ground, Jus! How
deep can it possibly be?”

Through a darkness so absolute that it hung like velvet
folds, the party descended into the depths of the earth.

It was a well traveled route, a tunnel partly natural and
partly carved by hand, that formed a roadway plunging into the heart of the
Flanaess. The tunnel floor had been leveled roughly flat, but the jagged roof
dipped and soared into vaults and dripping ceilings. A reeking little rivulet
led the way ever deeper, twisting left and right, then splashing down into a
limestone cave.

The tunnel descended down, down, down… first a hundred
yards and then a thousand. Soon all memory of the outer world, all breath of
sulphurous air, all light of sun and moon, had almost vanished. The long,
cautious descent plunged the party half a mile below the earth. Neither Escalla
nor the Justicar suffered from delusions of collapsing walls or crushing roofs.
Even so, the sense of so much rock above and the infinite earth to either side
made the tunnels seem horribly oppressive.

Finally, a wide limestone cavern opened before the party.
Escalla flew with her little light out into a massive void. Long stalactites
hung down like spears overhead, while drips of water fed into trickles that
joined into the single stream. Jus held up a hand to halt Polk and Private
Henry, then lifted his magic light to spill its glow into the cave. The light
shone as brilliant as day, flooding into the cave to strike sparks and
highlights from countless outcrops of wet stone. While comforting, it was also a
trifle blinding.

Escalla swirled up toward the roof and tried to peer down
into the maze of shapes below. “Hey, Jus!” she whispered, “there’s a dead guy
down here!”

Her voice carried strangely, the strength of it lost amidst
muffled echoes. Jus lowered himself down a gigantic limestone shelf and frowned.

“What killed him?”

“Dunno. I can’t see.” Escalla flew to hover above the corpse.
“Oh wow! Hey, guys! I see a—
whoa!”
A stalactite detached itself and
plunged from the ceiling, almost spearing her. Escalla sped aside, and the
stalactite missed her by a country mile. It fell to the floor with a heavy thud,
righted itself, and fixed a beady eye upon Escalla above. The creature seemed to
be a tall, thin mollusk with a shell shaped like a razor-sharp stalactite. It
began to make its way slowly across the cavern floor toward a wall, traveling
with the glacial, bubbling pace of a gastropod.

There were other stalactites near Escalla. The girl eyed them
with clear suspicion, readying her wand. “The ceiling’s alive with these
things.”

“Don’t get under them!”

“Thanks, Jus. I don’t know
where
I’d be without your
constant good advice.” Escalla swerved to the ground, where a human body lay. It
had been pierced from the neck into the abdomen. Nearby there lay the empty
shell of one of the stalactite mollusks, still smeared with blood and lined with
goo.

“I think one of these shell-critters killed a captive. The
trogs must have eaten the shell creature.” Escalla hastily backed away. “Eeew!
And ate most of the dead human, too. Damn!” Appalled and angered, Escalla
circled the body.

She had found the main exit from the cave—another huge tunnel
that led due north. Moving to join her, Jus thumped down to the floor, sliding
down the rock slope in a pool of light. He caught Private Henry and helped the
boy to the ground, steadying his crossbow with one big hand.

“Son, do you really know how to shoot that thing?”

“Sir yes sir!” The teenager blinked. “Well, kinda. I scored
thirty out of fifty on the target range.”

“At what distance?”

“Um, thirty yards.”

“Wonderful.” Jus set the boy to watching the rear, then
caught Polk as the teamster came sliding noisily down the limestone slope. Still
annoyed with the man, Jus dragged him onto his feet. “Don’t fall behind. Keep
between me and the boy, and keep your eyes open!”

“Sure, son! They’re open!” Polk still reeked of fermented
kelp. “I jus’ stayed back to watch the lights—real pretty! Now that’s what
adventure should be all about. Pretty things and the unexpected! Surprising
vistas, boy! A fitting backdrop to heroics!”

Jus fixed the man with a suspicious glare, while Cinders
leaked a wisp of smoke and flames.

“Are you still drunk?”

“No, son! Jus’ look behind us! See! The whole place is real
damned pretty!”

Jus knelt and waved a hand. Private Henry, Escalla and even
Polk all settled down in silence. Jus covered his light and waved the others to
do the same.

With the light gone, the eyes were shocked into blindness,
but it was a blindness that slowly filled out with little points of light.

Bands of minerals on the walls slowly began to glow in blues
and greens. Lichens on the ceiling gave off a weird yellow light. Piece by
piece, as their eyes forgot the brightness of day, the underworld began to come
alive with light.

The air felt dank and cold, moving with slow breaths from
tunnels and caverns in the far off dark. The only sounds were subtle, far off
twitterings—bats, rats, or worse. The drip and echo of distant water filled the
huge tunnels with a quiet stir of sound. Dung made a foul stench along the
tunnels. Some of it seemed to be human, some reptilian, and some came from
creatures best left unidentified. Toadstools grew in the compost, their caps
shining with a sickly green and yellow luminescence. Clinging to high tunnel
roofs, other lights shifted and moved in the gloom—luminous beetles, slugs, and
worms going about their daily grind.

Jus hid his magic light inside a pouch and shoved it through
his belt. Escalla followed suit. The light spells were brilliant enough to blind
creatures used to this pale phosphorescence. It seemed best to keep them as
weapons, moving through the tunnels with more stealth.

Over at the new tunnel, Jus looked carefully at the dim, dark
shadows and touched a troglodyte footprint still fresh in the mud. He
thoughtfully dried his fingertips.

Escalla inspected her friend’s work and asked, “Recent?”

“About half a day’s lead.”

“Know what we’re going to do when we find ’em?”

“Play it by ear.” The Justicar arose. “Locator?”

Escalla produced the magic pointer. The little compass swung
to point straight north down the tunnel. The pointer no longer quivered; the
quarry had gained many miles of lead. With a curse, Escalla put the thing away
and unslung her battle wand. The Justicar nodded. Escalla turned invisible and
took the lead position, scouting far ahead of her friends. The Justicar settled
Cinders on his helm and felt the hell hound lift his ears and begin carefully
scanning the gloom. Moving with a stealth that was perfection to behold, the big
man paced down the wide tunnel on Escalla’s trail, his hand poised on his sword
hilt for a lightning draw.

Polk watched his companions, reached for his whiskey bottle,
and then remembered that his drink had been confiscated. With a concerned look
at the tunnel, the man ran to catch up with the Justicar.

“Son, this is no lair! This ain’t a dungeon!” Polk’s voice
carried shockingly far in the gloom. “Are you sure we’re on the right track?”

Jus never spoke a word. He turned, glared, lifted a finger to
his lips, then swung about to keep up his silent march.

Polk went into a huff With his hands jammed into his pockets,
he stomped along ten feet behind his friends, kicking at any toadstools that
came in his way. Behind him, Private Henry kept a nervous rear guard, chain mail
jingling with every step and his pace slowed as he turned constantly to point
his crossbow at empty shadows far behind.

The party walked cautiously onward into a tunnel that never
seemed to end.

Long hours of walking went by. The massive passageways were a
squalor of life and violent death. Great phosphorescent beetles preyed upon the
slugs. Slugs chewed into glowing fungi, which in turn grew on compost left from
dead beetles, old bones and dung.

Other things lived and ate here as well. The gnawed bones of
humanoid creatures had been left here and there on the passage floors—sometimes
elf bones, sometimes human, always gnawed clean with skulls left grinning in the
dark.

There were frequent alcoves, side caves, and sink holes all
along the way. The party sat down in one such alcove as they shared hard bread
and rested their feet. Polk’s magic bottle was produced, and much to his pain,
all the travelers were served a measure of good whiskey carefully monitored by
Jus before the bottle was sealed away again.

Sipping prime aged whiskey from a tin mug, Escalla kept a
watch upon the corridor. Escalla had long since given up her invisibility on the
march, coming to hover close to Cinders and the Justicar. After half an hour,
invisibility wreaked havoc with her hair.

Swigging back her whiskey, Escalla turned to the task of
gnawing upon a rock hard piece of bread. Daunted by the task, she finally used
the bread chunk as an elbow rest.

“Jus, how far do you reckon this tunnel runs?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a road.” The Justicar was repairing one of his boot
laces, working with big, efficient hands. “The trogs must have a nest down here.
Probably a drow settlement, too. The thing must run for miles.”

Escalla gave a sigh and idly dangled the locator needle on
its string. It pointed north, straight down the tunnel, and gave not a quaver of
life. The opposition must have zoomed at least ten miles ahead.

“Bugger!” The girl sighed. “How much food do we have again?”

“Not much.” The Justicar finished fixing his boot. “Fancy
slug stew?”

“Pass.” The girl took a long look down the tunnels. “There
must be something big enough to make a meal of down here.”

Rising to his feet, the Justicar looked into the gloom with a
growl. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

The tunnels had been eerily empty so far, but it couldn’t
last. The Takers would hardly leave their gates unguarded. Somewhere farther
along the tunnels, there would be a guard post. Beyond that lay the horrific
kingdom of the underdark. Jus pondered the trouble they were sinking deeper and
deeper into and looked about the dripping cavern walls.

“Any ideas who the murderer might be?” Jus asked.

Deep in thought, the faerie sat shadowed by the bright splay
of her wings.

“I’ve been trying to narrow down my list.” The girl hissed.
“My mother. My sister. My mother
and
my sister. Or Lord Ushan? Or even
Lord Faen? Or perhaps my mother, my sister, Lord Ushan, and Lord Faen.” Escalla
sat sifting her relatives and their allies through her mind. “Do you see now why
I fled to the real world?”