Goblin Quest (18 page)

She hadn’t been quite as mean to him since his aborted duel. In fact, she had laughed harder than Jig had ever seen, which only added to Barius’s fury. But that didn’t mean she had forgiven him, either. She merely flipped back and forth as to whom she hated more, Jig or Barius. With Barius up ahead, following his brother, that left Jig as a target for her frustrations.

At least the corridor beyond opened up to let him walk upright and put a few more feet between himself and her barbs.

“Another trap,” Ryslind said. This time it was a thin wire stretched across the floor. Jig’s poor vision meant that he couldn’t see it at all, and he felt like a fool as Darnak guided his legs in an exaggerated motion over the wire. Better this than another attack, though. He wondered how much power it took for Ryslind to sense the traps and the hidden passages. Even tracking the Necromancer at all must take an enormous effort. Jig knew nothing of magic, but he assumed a powerful wizard would have ways to hide himself.

“Do you think this is what the Necromancer wants?” he wondered.

“What’s that?” Darnak snapped. He scowled at his map and drew a quick turn, then made a line to indicate the tripwire. “Do I think what?”

“Well, he has to know we’re here. And he probably knows we’ve got a wizard. So wouldn’t it make sense to force the wizard to use up his power before we actually face the Necromancer? That way, when we finally get through this maze, the Necromancer will be able to kill Ryslind like a bug.” Not to mention what the search might be doing to Ryslind’s already questionable sanity. Those dual voices sent creepy tingles down Jig’s back every time the wizard spoke.

“Aye, it’s possible.” Darnak hurried ahead, forcing Jig and Riana to jog to keep up. When they were closer to the humans and their lantern, he slowed his pace again to draw. As he sketched, he explained. “That’s why we all have to be ready to strike. Only two ways for the likes of us to deal with wizards of the Necromancer’s caliber. Run away, or hit him with a rock.”

“I don’t have a rock,” Jig said worriedly. There were no rocks down here. Had he known, he would have taken one from the lakeshore above.

Darnak’s eyes came up to glare at Jig. “Figure of speech. Your sword there’ll do the job. The trick is to take him out before he can use his magic. Hard and fast, and no hesitation. Let him get a spell off, and it’s your death. I’m afraid you’re right about Ryslind being at the end of his rope, so if you wait for him to save your blue hide, you’ll not last long.”

Jig had no illusions about his skill with a sword. A day ago, he would have taken the dwarf’s advice and thought himself a match for any wizard. Like Porak, he had believed that a good weapon made a good warrior. But Porak now resided in the belly of a carrion-worm. Jig had seen Barius and Darnak in combat, and next to them, he was nothing. Even Ryslind was a more skilled fighter, and he was a wizard. What hope did Jig have, sword or no sword?

“What about your magic?” he asked, searching for another option. “Won’t Earthmaker help you beat the Necromancer?”

“Doesn’t work that way. Earthmaker wants us to choose our own path. He can guide us and give us strength, but where mortals come into conflict, he’ll not interfere.” Darnak stopped and cocked his head. His face wrinkled like a raisin. “Something’s not right. The tunnel changes up ahead.”

“How can you tell?”

“He’s a dwarf,” Riana answered, as if that explained everything. She hurried up to tell the others.

They soon found that Darnak was right. Barius and his brother stopped, lantern held in front of them. When Jig caught up and saw why they had paused, it was all he could do to keep from throwing up.

Not only did the tunnel change, it ended completely. The walls and ceiling stopped, and the cramped passage opened into a huge cavern. The top was too far to see, and the bottom . . . Jig’s stomach knotted just thinking about it. At the far side, he could just see a glimmer of reflected light, presumably from the marble paneling the Necromancer seemed to like so much. All they had to do was cross.

“Bottomless pit, you think?” Darnak asked.

Barius nodded. “ ’Twould be my guess.”

That was when Jig decided they were both as mad as the wizard. They talked about this chasm as if they crossed bottomless pits every day before breakfast. Worse, as he looked at the others, he had no doubt what they were about to say.

“Let us be on our way,” Barius said, right on cue.

“Over
that
?” Riana demanded.

Good to know that Jig wasn’t the only one who had problems with this. True, the paneled floor continued across the pit, creating a sort of bridge. The problem was that
only
the panels continued. As far as he could see, they rested on nothing but air. Only thin lines of silver mortar held the panels together. Although Jig knew nothing about bridges, he guessed this wasn’t how they were supposed to look.

Each panel was no thicker than Jig’s thumb. While the others planned the safest way to cross, Jig dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to the tunnel’s edge. Peering over the edge, he saw nothing but blackness beneath the bridge. Wind brushed past his face and pushed his ears back. The walls of the pit were smooth black stone. Not polished like the marble, but still too smooth to climb.
What were you expecting? A nice ladder and a sign saying “Here’s the
safe
bridge for goblins only”?

Something landed on Jig’s back. He shouted and rolled away, kicking wildly at his attacker. Smudge slipped off his shoulder and started to fall, and Jig barely managed to grab one of the spider’s suddenly hot legs. Once he was back in the tunnel, Smudge scurried a good six feet away from the edge and cowered there.

The attacker turned out to be the end of a rope. Darnak and Riana both laughed at him, while Barius muttered something about “stupid, cowardly creatures.” Jig noticed they had each wrapped a loop of rope about their waists.

“Best to be safe when crossing these things,” Darnak explained. He helped Jig up and tied the rope around his waist with a sure hand. “Earthmaker willing, we’ll not be needing this. But I’ve not yet seen a bottomless pit that didn’t have some nastiness hidden away, waiting to knock you to your doom.”

“You’ve crossed these before?” Jig asked.

“Oh, aye. Back when I was a lad, there wasn’t a wizard around who didn’t conjure up his own bottomless pit. They’re less common these days, but you still find ’em lying about in older labyrinths and lairs. They’re useful things. If you can cut a shaft through the entire place, you’ve got some ventilation. Otherwise the air gets stale and things start to die. Not to mention the stink.”

He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret. “Truth is, they’re not really bottomless. You’ll fall for a while, no doubt, but sooner or later you find the bottom. A real bottomless pit takes too much magic.”

Perhaps that was supposed to reassure him, Jig didn’t know. He saw Darnak take another drink of ale, and decided that strong drink would have been far more comforting. Strong drink he could enjoy back in the goblin lair would be even better.

“Onward,” said Barius. He walked close behind Ryslind, lantern held high to light up the bridge. Riana followed, then Darnak, still scribbling at his map, and Jig brought up the rear. That meant he would be the last one to step onto those floating tiles.

He watched as each member of the group stepped onto the bridge, and each time he expected the tiles to crumble away at the touch of their feet. The tiles didn’t even wiggle.

The rope went taut, tugging Jig closer to the edge. Another three steps and he’d be on the bridge. What if he fell? What if the wind got stronger and blew him over the edge? Would the others try to pull him up? More likely they would cut the rope and let him fall. Why else would they put him last? This way they could cut him loose without sacrificing themselves.

Two more steps.
Maybe the bridge only worked for certain races. Would it support a goblin as well as a human? Magic was funny that way, and he had a sudden, vivid memory of the marble panels that had hidden their dead attackers. Those had felt solid enough, up until they vanished. Was there a trigger to make these panels disappear as well?

One step.
Of course. The spell must be designed to wait until the last person stepped out of the tunnel. Only
then
would it vanish. He was the last one. As soon as he took that next step, they would all fall to their deaths. He was the only one who could save them. He had to get this knot undone. His fingers clawed at the rope, but the dwarf had tied a good knot, and it wouldn’t budge.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Please wait.”

The rope jerked him forward, and he fell onto the bridge. The solid, unmoving bridge. Jig froze. Ahead the others glanced back impatiently. The tiles hadn’t faded. He wasn’t falling.
He wasn’t falling!
He was trembling so much he couldn’t stand up, but he wasn’t falling.

“You planning to walk, or were you expecting us to drag you across?” Darnak yelled. His voice echoed in the chasm.

Jig tried to rise. The bridge was wide enough. Three tiles wide, which was more than twice the length of a goblin. He would be okay. All he had to do was stand up and walk after the others.

“I’m coming,” he yelled back. He rose to his knees, glanced over the edge, and promptly dropped back to the floor. Crawling would be just fine, he decided. Smudge crawled everywhere, and he never lost his balance. At that moment, Jig would have been happier with eight legs, but he’d be all right with four. He hoped.

About thirty feet ahead, Ryslind pointed to a tile in the center. “Illusion,” he said.

What a nasty trick. Jig chewed his lip as he neared the false tile. He would have to go around. The tile looked as solid as the rest. He touched a finger to the marble surface and watched it pass right through, so it looked like his finger had been severed at the knuckle. Like Riana’s. If Ryslind hadn’t seen the trap, they would have fallen.

“Watch us, not the bottom,” Darnak snapped.

Right.
Watch them. Don’t look over the edge. Don’t even think about it. Don’t imagine the wind rushing past your ears or tumbling helplessly out of control.
Would he see the ground rushing up? Would he feel the impact, or would death be too quick? His head began to spin from breathing so fast.
No, don’t get dizzy. Not now. Relax. Be calm. Anything to distract yourself.

He crawled forward a few inches and began to sing in a strained voice. “Ten little goblins walked off to drink their wine. . . .”

He curled his fingers around the edges of the tile for stability, but that only reminded him that a single tile hung between him and the abyss. To his right was the false tile, to his left, nothing. He hoped the magic and the mortar were strong enough. In his imagination, he could see one side of the tile break free, see himself dangling helplessly as the tile dropped away like the hobgoblins’ trapdoor.

A few more steps
. He could do this. Everyone else had done it. If the bridge could support Darnak’s weight, it would surely hold Jig. It would hold a half-dozen goblins. He clenched his teeth and continued to sing.

By the time he reached the third verse, he had passed the false tile and was back in the center of the bridge where it was safe. Relatively speaking, at least.

“Good job,” Darnak said. “Now let’s be on.”

Jig nodded. He could do this. He could make it. They were going to be okay.

That was when the attack started.

CHAPTER 9

Torment of the Gods

At first Jig thought the fluttering was a figment of his frightened imagination. A trick of the wind, perhaps. He certainly couldn’t see anything when he looked around.

The first squeal, so loud Jig grabbed his ears and folded them flat to his head, told him this was no trick. Something really was out there in the blackness.

More squeals followed, causing Jig to change his conclusion. Some
things
.

“Don’t stop, but keep your eyes open,” Darnak yelled. He pointed his dripping quill at the other side of the bridge. “We’re halfway there. If we can make it to the other side, we’ll be safer.”

“Keep your eyes open,” Jig mimicked. “As if I’d do this sort of thing blindfolded.” He started to crawl, only to stop when the next squeal deafened him. He couldn’t crawl and cover his ears at the same time.

“Why do they have to be so loud?” He couldn’t hear his own voice. Clasping his hands to his ears, he stood up and hurried after the others.

They had gone another twenty yards when something large and black swooped toward Darnak. Huge, leathery wings batted the dwarf’s head, pushing him backward.

Darnak dropped his quill and struck out with his fist, knocking the thing away and letting Jig see it clearly in the lantern light.

They were bats. Bigger than any bat Jig had seen, but they could be nothing else. Their bodies were almost as big as Darnak himself, and the wings stretched at least ten feet to either side. Another swooped down behind Jig, giving him a close look at their bristled, piglike faces, and a row of needle-sharp teeth. The only redeeming features were their brown ears, even bigger than a goblin’s.