“Teych!” he croaked, and an instant before the vampire landed on him, he vanished.
Brey rolled to her feet with a cry of rage, looking around for any sign of her quarry. For a moment, the others stood and stared, unable to believe that their adversary had disappeared.
Mordan hurried over to Tarrel and discovered that he was still breathing. Haldin limped up to them, laid his hands on the half-elf, and began to pray. Tarrel’s eyes flickered open.
“Did we get him?” he asked weakly. Mordan shook his head.
“We won the first round,” said Haldin, “but he will certainly be back. I expect that he is currently healing himself and preparing for another confrontation. It would be wise for us to do the same.”
They found a storeroom off one side of the chamber, with only one entrance. Brey stood by the doorway, watching for fresh enemies.
Tarrel rubbed his face, which was bruised where Dravuliel had struck it. Then he fished a vial of healing potion from inside his coat and took a long drink. The color slowly returned to his skin.
“What did you do to him?” Mordan asked Dria, who had joined the group.
“I built up energy in the rod until it could do some damage,” she replied. “It’s an artificer trick. What did you do? That was more than just a punch.”
“Aberrant dragonmark.”
Brey was cursing under her breath. Haldin readied his crossbow and joined her in the doorway.
“Captain ir’Mallon,” he said, gently, “are you hurt?”
“I was helpless,” she growled. “He just—there was nothing I could do.”
Haldin smiled reassuringly.
“Please do not blame yourself,” He began. “It is in the nature …”
“Damn the nature!” Brey exploded. She swiped at a nearby crate with one fist, sending it shattering against a wall. It seemed to have been full of dirt.
“If I may suggest,” said Haldin, “engaging him from a distance will prevent him from using that power on you again.”
Emotions chased themselves across Brey’s face. “I know you’re making sense,” she said, “but there’s a part of me that just wants to tear him limb from limb—drink his blood and feel his life draining away in my hands. You have no idea what I—what he—oh, what’s the use?”
“I understand,” said the gnome, “even though I cannot imagine what you have suffered. He understands too, and I expect he will try to goad you into close combat again. It is the easiest way for him to destroy you.”
Brey began to pace, but Haldin laid a restraining hand upon her arm. She turned in surprise—it had been a long time since a living being had touched her willingly.
“He knows vampires,” the gnome said, looking earnestly into her eyes, “and if he can make you fight him like a vampire, he will win. He has made sure that you can no longer fight him as a paladin—but you still have the ranger. You still have your bow. That is where you can win.”
Brey’s eyes softened as Haldin spoke, and she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You’re right,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
Brey unslung her bow, testing the draw on the string. She pulled out an arrow, looking at the bulb of holy water nestled behind the head.
“This won’t help if he’s not undead,” she observed.
“Perhaps not,” answered the gnome, “but an arrow is still an arrow.”
“So,” asked Tarrel from behind them, “what now?”
The half-elf looked fully recovered from Dravuliel’s spell, with just a few tears in his coat. Mordan had retrieved his rapier, and Dria had picked up a discarded sword and shield. Her homunculus perched on her shoulder, its tail coiled lightly around her neck.
“An excellent question,” Haldin replied, looking around him. The sounds of battle still came from the landing area; the opposite wall of the storage chamber bore three archways, each leading off into darkness. “Since Dravuliel escaped magically,” he observed, “we have no obvious path to follow. However, I doubt he went far.”
Mordan looked at Dria and then at her homunculus.
“How much of the place did you scout from your cell?” he asked.
“Not there,” she replied. “I was interested in finding ways out, not going in farther.”
“So you did not locate your unfortunate relative?” asked Haldin. Dria shook her head.
“Well,” said Mordan, “it looks like we could use a scout.” He cast another glance at the homunculus, which glared back at him and edged itself around behind its mistress’ head.
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Tarrel, pulling out his crystal wand.
Haldin held up a hand. “I doubt that our adversary has forgotten your invisibility of a few minutes ago, since it cost him so dearly,” he said. “No doubt he will be prepared for a similar attack.” He turned to Dria.
“My lady,” he said, “I do not wish to expose your homunculus to danger any more than you do. However, it will be invaluable—even potentially life-saving—to know what lies ahead of us. A brief glimpse through a doorway would be sufficient, if you would be so kind.”
Dria sighed. “Which one do you want me to look at first?”
“Your choice, my lady,” answered Haldin with a smile.
Dria murmured to her homunculus, and it flitted off toward the central archway. Brey covered the left-hand arch with her bow, while Tarrel covered the one on the right with his wand of fireballs. Mordan glanced nervously from one arch to another as Haldin stood beside Dria. The Cannith heir’s eyes had a faraway look.
“A large room,” she said, “it looks empty. No visible exits.”
The homunculus flapped out, and went through the left-hand arch. Dria gasped.
“What is it, my lady?” asked Haldin.
“Some kind of workshop,” she replied. “It’s not a creation forge, but the components look like—”
“Like your kinsman may have been at work there?” asked the gnome.
She nodded.
“Is it empty?” asked Mordan.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Dria replied. Her eyes cleared as the homunculus flew back into the chamber, and she started for the archway.
“Wait,” said Brey, “what about the third one?”
“I have to look for my cousin,” Dria replied. “The third one’s all yours.” She took another step, but Brey was in front of her, blocking her way.
“Now listen,” she said with a snarl, “we’re not going anywhere till you check out that other arch.”
“I have my duty,” Dria said coldly. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Oh , really?” snapped Brey, “and do you expect us to drop everything and watch your overbred, dragonmarked rear while you carry out your duty? It would still be sitting in that cell if we hadn’t let you out!”
“And you,” Dria retorted, leaning into Brey’s face, “would still be cowering in front of that robed scarecrow if I hadn’t blasted him—so I think that makes us even!”
Brey’s face began to distort in anger, and Mordan hurriedly interposed himself between the two.
“We don’t have time for this!” he said. “That elf could be back at any moment! Now, if you don’t want to check out the third arch, I will. Brey, Tarrel—cover me!” He strode purposefully toward the arch.
“Wait,” said Brey. “I’ll do it.”
He stopped and turned. The vampire woman shifted to the form of a bat—smaller than the one that had flown the chasm in the Mournland—and flew through the arch. Within a minute, she returned and resumed her natural form.
“It’s a temple,” she said. “Seems empty, looks like there are some rooms beyond it.”
“Thank you, Captain,” said Haldin smoothly.
Dria’s gaze dropped to the ground.
“So,” the gnome continued, “our choice appears to be simple. If we investigate the workshop, perhaps we will rescue Lady Dria’s kinsman, and possibly gain some mechanical allies into the bargain. If we go to the temple first, we will do so with only our current strength, which we already know is sufficient only to stalemate our foe.” He looked expectantly from face to face.