The Nether Scroll (29 page)

"But—?"

Dru silenced Rozt'a with an upraised hand. "When you were part of the sentience shield in
Cormyr, the alhoon knew you were hostile, knew you were coming. It attacked you.
Ghistpok's goblins aren't hostile; the Beast Lord won't attack them. We can fight our way out,
if it comes to that."

Tiep studied Dru's face while he and Rozt'a argued. He saw something there he'd never
seen before. He didn't know what it was, but he'd wager it had something to do with the
enchantment spell Dru had cast on the leather gloves and the flash of the future his foster-
father hadn't had.

Ghistpok's goblins were surging toward the mine entrance, all of them and all moving the
same way, left foot, right foot, arms swinging and voices chanting.

"If we're going with them, we better start moving," Rozt'a said grimly.

"I'm going to strengthen your minds first. Make you resistant to the Beast Lord's
suggestions." He touched Rozt'a and the goblin. "Even you, Tiep. Get the scroll to
Weathercote. Get Galimer out of there. I'm depending on you."

Tiep had waited years to hear Druhallen say those words and mean them. They were cold
comfort at the bottom of the Dekanter quarry. The spell felt like an egg cracked open on
Tiep's scalp and the egg-gut swiftly coating his skin. He shuddered once, then was calmer
than he'd been since that morning—scarcely a week ago—in the bug lady's glade when Druhallen
hit him with the same spell.

Even the thought that Dru was worried sick about something no longer distressed him.

"You added something," Tiep accused his foster father.
"No," he replied, but wizards lied all the time.

Tiep couldn't tell if Dru had strengthened his own mind or if all the restored calm and
renewed sense of purpose came from the magic flowing through his thoughts alone. It didn't
matter much. They were as ready as they'd ever be and on their way to steal an ancient scroll
from an undead mind flayer.

What could be easier?

Ghistpok led them down almost familiar corridors. Druhallen cast a light spell and no one
seemed to care, or notice that there were three humans and one traitor-goblin marching
some twenty paces behind them. They came to the place where Tiep was sure they'd turned
back yesterday when Sheemzher was leading them and the water got too high. The tunnel
was merely wet now. Dru muttered that it had been drained within the last few moments and
that they'd been damn lucky to survive their first two visits because the Beast Lord had
control over the storm water sloshing through the mines and used water in its defenses.

What did it matter if they'd been lucky before, as long as there was no danger now and
they were marching in the right direction?

They were. Tiep recognized the place where they'd met the swordswingers for the first
time. The bodies were gone, but the walls had been scorched by Dru's fire. He could feel the
Beast Lord now, like a weight or shadow across his thoughts. Between his own immunity and
Dru's spell, the alhoon was a presence he could easily ignore.

The pool chamber's glow had become visible ahead of the fast-moving goblins. There was
a chance that the Beast Lord would be waiting for them, but not even the thought of those
dead-white eyes and writhing tentacles could disrupt Tiep's confidence. He stuck close
behind Dru and Rozt'a who were slowing down, putting more distance between themselves
and the precisely marching goblins.

Swordswingers appeared in the corridor and drew no reaction from Outhzin and the other
elder goblins who'd been beneath Dekanter yesterday as they marched at the front of the
herd with Ghistpok.

"That's bad," he whispered to Dru and Rozt'a. "They don't remember why they've come
down here."

Rozt'a nodded. "They've got no thoughts of their own left."

But they did. The goblins stopped. Their leaders—Tiep couldn't make out individuals—spoke
to the swordswingers. A few of them led a few of the swordswingers through the quietly standing
goblins toward the humans.

"Take this," Dru said as he turned and thrust something icy and hard into Tiep's hands. He
handed the enchanted gloves to Sheemzher. "The three of you, step back now and stay
close together until the way is clear. Then get to the athanor, get the scroll and get out! Don't
worry about me."

"You saw something," Tiep protested. "You lied! You saw something!"

Druhallen wasn't answering questions. He'd wrapped his arms around them all, him,
Rozt'a, and the goblin, and shoved them backward. He stood alone when the goblins and
swordswingers arrived. They swarmed around him, taking his sword but not his folding box.

Dru had become their prisoner, and a single word echoed through Tiep's mind: sacrifice.
The little part of him that wasn't touched by the mind-strengthening spell wanted to scream
and attack, but the larger part, where magic had him seeing everything with cold, self-serving
logic, made him grab Sheemzher and take another backward step. Rozt'a remained an arm's
length away.

Tiep hissed to get her attention. "Back up. Stay close."

Maybe she didn't hear him. Maybe she chose to stride toward Druhallen instead. The
rude, aggressive dog-face who'd grabbed Rozt'a yesterday, and whom she'd sent flying,
pointed his spear at her. In a heartbeat she had her sword drawn and so did all the
swordswingers. Nobody moved.

"Dru? Dru, are you ready?"

The look on Dru's face was more frightening than all the swords. Something had gone
terribly wrong but, not knowing the vision that had guided Druhallen, Tiep couldn't guess
where or how his plan had failed.

"Can you kill them all?" Dru asked.

"I can try."
"That's not enough."

"Be damned, Druhallen—it's enough for me!"

She raised her sword and froze, like a living statue. The swordswingers disarmed her
without a twitch.

"What—?"

Sheemzher started to ask a question. Tiep hit him hard with the hand that clutched the
freezing disk. He hit him a second hit when the goblin opened his mouth again.

Quiet! he mouthed.

The swordswingers and goblins had come within a foot of him and Sheemzher and not
noticed them. It was the old glass disk. Somehow it had to be the disk that hid them. And it
was Tiep's fault that both Druhallen and Rozt'a were being herded toward the pool chamber
with him and Sheemzher left behind. Sheemzher snuggled in behind him, peeking out around
Tiep's arm. They stayed like that until they were the only ones left in the corridor.

"Are you going to be strong?" Tiep asked his clinging companion. He felt a nod against his
ribs. "You still have the gloves Druhallen gave you?" Another nod.

The pool chamber was very quiet. The light flickered, though, and Tiep knew the chamber
was occupied. When they were a few strides from the threshold, he told Sheemzher to stay
put and crept up to survey the situation alone. It was as bad as he'd feared, with the ugly,
fearsome alhoon standing behind the big, circular pool and Tiep's foster parents flanking him.
Dru and Rozt'a were both standing still, but straining against invisible restraints.

The calm resolve that Dru's spell had planted in Tiep's mind faltered. For a moment,
maybe longer, he couldn't think or move himself. When something touched his hand he
nearly leapt out of his skin.

"Shhh-sh," the goblin advised. "Go now? Tiep, Sheemzher go now? Get scroll, yes?"

Sheemzher was on the short side, even for a goblin, and he had lousy goblin eyes. He
couldn't see what Tiep saw and, for once, Tiep wasn't going to upset the dog face with a load
of bad news.

"Yeah, we go now." He put a hand on Sheemzher's shoulder, steering him across the
threshold and along the pool-chamber wall. "Keep your head down and your eyes in straight
in front of you—"

"Sheemzher head down, Sheemzher see feet!"

Exasperated with himself more than the goblin, Tiep gave Sheemzher a shove in the
proper direction. "Just don't look out toward the pools. Can you smell the egg? Can you find
the open way into the egg chamber?"

The goblin rose on his toes and sniffed several times, then whispered. "Sheemzher smell
egg. Egg smell strong. Sheemzher find egg, yes."

They sneaked along the outer wall. Tiep was the one who had trouble following orders.
Every few steps he had to look to his left, toward the pools where the Beast Lord stood.
Those writhing tentacles were the only movement Tiep could see, unless he counted Dru and
Rozt'a's futile efforts to free themselves. He tried not to notice their struggles, but they were
the reason he had to look.

Sheemzher took Tiep's hand again when they came to the passage they had used the first
time. Tiep hesitated, more because he'd lose sight of Dru and Rozt'a than because he didn't
trust the goblin's nose. Sheemzher tugged and Tiep followed. The granite wall was gone.
Tiep knew they'd entered the larger chamber by the way sound changed—without Dru's light
spell he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

"Is it there?" he asked anxiously. "Is the scroll there?" and, belatedly, "Are we alone in
here?"

"All alone," Sheemzher assured him. "Scroll there. Tiep lift Sheemzher, yes?"

Tiep let the goblin lead him to chamber's center. He knew the egg was there when he
bumped his shoulder against its open door. Sheemzher didn't truly need any help climbing to
the egg's top, but Tiep was glad to tie the icy disk into his shirt hem and hoist the goblin to his
shoulders.

"Don't forget to put on the gloves," he said when the weight was gone. "And clap twice
before you pull on the scroll."

Sheemzher clapped three times, which was a harmless error. The chamber lit up as if a
score of lightning bolts had struck the egg. Tiep was blinded by light, not darkness.
Blobs of lurid color floated within his eyes. He held up his arms, hoping Sheemzher would
find them.

"Here."

Sheemzher had been thrown across the chamber again—Tiep had heard what happened after
he and Rozt'a left the first time. Tiep forced himself to ask, "Are you hurt?" when all he really cared
about was the scroll. He thought he might just shrivel up and die if the goblin hadn't freed the scroll.

"Scroll here, too. Sheemzher have scroll. Sheemzher hurt some here, there."

With neither light nor goblin eyes to guide him, Tiep couldn't take two steps without
tripping over some piece of twisted metal. It was the sound that worried him, though sound
was the least of his problems. Be they goblins, swordswingers, or the Beast Lord himself,
everyone beneath Dekanter could see in the dark except for him, Rozt'a, and Druhallen. Fear
of noise dropped Tiep to his hands and knees. He crawled to the goblin and could make no
assessment of his injuries.

"Can you move? Walk?"

"Maybe. Get spear. Spear there."

Sheemzher pointed toward something Tiep couldn't hope to see. "Forget your spear. Can
you walk out of here."

"Spear! Sheemzher need spear. Get spear, Sheemzher walk."

"Give me the scroll first."

It was smaller than Tiep expected, barely longer than his forearm. He was numb to the
elbow the instant he touched it. No telling what that meant. Tiep stripped off his shirt instead
and quickly smoothed it across the stone floor. He unrolled the golden scroll and laid it flat on
his shirt—the cloth was a bit longer than the scroll. He put the glass disk in the middle of the scroll.
After tucking the hem over one bar and its finials, Tiep let the scroll layer itself within his shirt as it
recoiled. It wasn't as tightly rolled as before, but the bulge wasn't as large as he'd feared it might be.
He could hold the cloth-wrapped scroll without the numbness growing worse and after a
moment's indecision, tucked the entire bundle against the small of his back.

"So, where's your damn spear?"

They could hear noise out in the pool chamber by the time Tiep got his hands on
Sheemzher's left-behind spear. The sounds were the same high-pitched keening sounds
Ghistpok's goblins had made when they'd led Hopper down the quarry steps yesterday
morning, and quite different from their trance singing earlier.

He helped Sheemzher to his feet. The goblin was wobbly, especially on his right side. Tiep
heard himself say—

"Are you sure you can walk? I could carry you if you're not sure."

"Sheemzher walk. Sheemzher strong."

"Stay close then. Dru meant for us to stay close together. I don't want you getting left
behind."

"Not lose Sheemzher."

Sheemzher led the way through the darkness. The goblin's eyes were fine, but he moved
slowly and Tiep could hear him breathing hard. Sheemzher's injuries faded from Tiep's
concern when they cleared the egg-chamber dogleg and could see into the pool chamber.

All the goblins, the naked slaves they'd seen before and Ghistpok's ragged tribe from the
smallest child to fat Ghistpok himself, were prostrate on the stone, with their faces hidden and
their arms extended in front of them, toward the Beast Lord. They were so motionless that
Tiep would have thought them dead, but for the keening that echoed around him. The
swordswingers—about forty of them altogether—were also motionless, though they were standing
with their swords drawn, their attention focused on the Beast Lord who stood with his back to the egg
chamber. Rozt'a stood to the Beast Lord's right; she been stripped of her clothes which lay in pieces
around her.

Dru was nowhere to be seen.

Tiep was enraged, but beneath the spell in his mind, Tiep was as frightened as he'd ever
been in his life. If the magic broke, terror would overcome anger and he'd be unable to move,
except to soil himself and collapse on the stone. The spell would break. None of Dru's spells
lasted forever and there was a bad chance that none of them would last longer than him.
They should get moving toward the surface, toward Weathercote and Galimer. They
shouldn't waste another moment.
A man groaned. It was a small sound, almost lost in the goblin keening, but Tiep heard it
as clearly as he heard his own heart's beating and knew without doubt or hesitation that it
had come from Druhallen's throat.