After Radu's departure, Stannis showed Darrow the servants' quarters. There was even a butler's private chamber, but Darrow preferred the expanse of the main room and chose the bed that seemed most comfortable. He asked about fetching his clothes from Radu's tallhouse, but Stannis showed him a wardrobe full of old Malveen family livery. The black and purple garments were striking, if rather dusty. Darrow liked the Malveen crest as welclass="underline" a crimson octopus holding a sword, a scepter, a scroll, and a set of scales.
In addition to forbidding him to leave the house, Stannis warned Darrow not to disturb the windows, which were boarded shut both from the inside and on the exterior. Darrow presumed they were warded similarly to the entrance, but he also realized his master must despise the daylight.
On the upper floors were drawing rooms, a barren library, and twin music galleries overlooking the main promenade, which Stannis called the River Hall. The creaking floors and spectral array of covered furnishings made Darrow glad to return to the ground floor, where he spent the rest of his first day uncovering furniture. He was not used to domestic chores, but the work kept him occupied until dusk, when he returned to the River Hall.
Beside the stream he found a wet basket of squirming eels and twitching fish on a bed of seaweed. Darrow noted the inhuman footprints that left a trail between the water and the basket. The delivery had come courtesy of one of Stannis's repellent minions. Unlike their master, the creatures had no fascinating hold over Darrow. They frightened and repelled him.
Stannis appeared soon after Darrow found the food, rising from the fabulous pool as he had the night before.
"Welcome home, my master," said Darrow. "Shall I prepare your dinner now?"
"Don't be foolish," said Stannis, not unkindly. "You realize I do not eat as you do."
"Of course, master," said Darrow. Shame warmed his face.
"You understand what I have become?"
"I… I don't know, master."
"Surely you do, child. Say it. Say the word."
Darrow hesitated, debating whether this was a test of his manners or of his honesty. He could feel his master's impatience grow as he wrestled with indecision. At last he sputtered out, "Vampire, my lord."
"Good. Now come." He took a jeweled goblet from the counting table. "Bring the food, and I will introduce you to your new charges."
He led Darrow to a gallery off the River Hall. Its carved door swung noisily open at their approach. Darrow glimpsed the dark, naked figure that held it open for them. It glistened even in the shadows, and it stank of rotting fish.
"Pay them no mind," said Stannis, gliding through the doorway. "Disgusting things. I don't know why I keep making them."
Inside the gallery, crushed velvet couches encircled four purple-veined marble pillars on a mosaic floor. Throughout the room, statues of jet and alabaster lionized long-dead sorcerers and sea captains, while long glass cabinets displayed smaller carvings, painted masks, bizarre fetishes, and a dozen ineffable relics of distant exploration. Dust dimmed every surface.
On every wall hung paintings of Malveen ancestors, most of them long faced and fair skinned, with hair that grew thin but not gray on the older men. The women shared a legacy of intelligent eyes and thin, taut lips.
"Here," said Malveen, floating gracefully toward one of the largest portraits. A thin line of seawater still trailed behind him.
The painting was a life-sized depiction of a dour old merchant with long mustaches and watery blue eyes. Darrow thought it looked like an older, weaker Radu. "My great uncle Vilsek," said Stannis. He held one finger up before his veil. "Shh! He keeps a secret for us."
Stannis lifted a part of the painting's dark metal frame. With a faint groan, the painting and the wall behind it moved outward to reveal a secret passage.
"Here," said Malveen. He spoke a few arcane words and sprinkled glittering red dust into the goblet he had brought. Bright flames leaped from the cup and remained there, dancing. Stannis gave the chalice to Darrow, who was not surprised to feel that it remained cool.
Beyond the secret door was a wide, spiraling stairway. As they began the descent, Darrow sensed dark shapes looming above him. He looked up, fearful of what he might see.
Mounted toxthe stone walls were the preserved heads of great beasts. He saw the hooked face of an owlbear, the sleek head of a displacer beast, the hideous twin visages of a two-headed troll, and even more dangerous monsters. Griffin, manticore, dire wolf, wyvern, krenshar, and some beaked and tentacled horror of which Darrow had never heard all watched silently as they made their descent. The hides of some of them had turned yellow and waxy. Darrow wondered how long it had taken the Malveens to accumulate such a collection.
They continued to descend, spiraling down more than thirty feet below the ground floor. Darrow wondered how long before they reached sea level. The River Hall's stream must be linked to Selgaunt Bay, he thought.
At last they emerged into a wide arena. Pour tiers of seats surrounded a sunken pit, thirty feet in diameter. Stone braziers cupped green perpetual flames at intervals along the encircling rail, from which irregular spikes jutted down. Varicolored sand covered the pit floor except in the very middle, where a black hole gaped eight feet wide. Around its mouth were blades stained with ragged bits of rotting matter.
"The baiting pit," explained Stannis. "My great uncle's passion has been neglected for over two decades. I like to think he would be pleased with our little revival."
Darrow smelled the faint odor of salt water. "Where does it lead?" he asked, looking down at the bladed pit. "The sewers?"
"Oh, no," said Stannis, amused. "Someplace worse. Someplace far worse. Now come."
Along the perimeter of the viewing stands, Darrow saw two more exits. One of them was a tarnished brass gate with a prominent lock. Stannis led the way and opened the portal with one of the dozen keys that hung from his chain veil. Darrow followed his master down another curving stairway, then along a passage that ringed the central pit. At last they came to a barbed portcullis.
"Watch," said Stannis, indicating a bar projecting from the wall. He inserted another key from his veil and twisted it twice widdershins. Then he pushed the bar up and quickly pulled it down again. The clangor of chains came from beyond the wall, and the portcullis rose steadily.
"How does it open?" asked Stannis. His tone was condescending but oddly gentle.
"Key twice around to the left, bar up, then down."
"What a clever child you are," cooed Stannis. He stroked Darrow's face with cool, moist fingers, then pressed the key into Darrow's hand. "It is important not to forget. There are many more doors to show you, many more secrets. See that you remember them all."
Darrow nodded. Stannis's touch had left cool, wet traces on his cheek.
"Now you must meet your charges."
The hall beyond the portcullis stank faintly of animal musk, but the odor of straw and filth was stronger. A wide passage curved around the perimeter of the baiting pit, and down its center ran a stream of water over which precisely cut stones formed a. walkway. Dark stains showed that it was used as a sewage trough.
To each side of the passage were three cells. Each was the size of a horse's stall, with iron bars as thick as a man's forearm in the back and front. Beyond the rear bars was a slotted iron wall with tracks for gears. Darrow guessed they could be raised to allow entrance to the central pit.
All three of the cells were presently occupied.
In one, a massive troll squatted on the straw. A pair of buckets comprised the cell's only decor. Darrow was surprised to see that the monster wore fine leather breeches and a sleeveless shirt big enough to make a sail. The creature's rubbery green skin stretched tight over bulging muscles. As Darrow and Stannis approached, it rose to its full height of over eight feet, the beads in its braided hair rattling gently.