“Estates. How interesting.” Lord Faen arose and walkedquietly over to the windows, looking out across Lord Charn’s lake. It all had awonderfully rustic appeal. “Nightshades invitation to us all is still in force.I would consider it rude to reject them at this time.”
Furious, Lord Ushan paced back and forth. His orc servants waited with eyes downcast in the corridors beyond. He took his staff of office from one girl’s hand then whirled on Faen in a rage.
“This is collusion! By staying in this… this primal filth,you give royal approval of assassination! Does the Erlking not care that Cavalier Tarquil is dead?”
“Yes. Poor Tarquil.” Faen stroked his goatee. “Still, atleast his problems with vendettas are now over. It must have eased life in Clan Sable to have the boy turn up his toes.”
Turning stiff, Ushan coldly glared at the other lord and whispered, “Have a care, Faen. Tarquil was not the only duelist in Clan Sable.”
“I’m sure of it.” Unconcerned, Lord Faen sat down. “Still, weare all touched by your loss. Is there to be a service in Tarquil’s memory? Ireally should attend. Tell me, will you reincarnate the boy?”
“We will take a clone from his remains.”
“Ah. Of course.”
Faen returned to his book. Ushan watched him, flexing his hands indecisively about his staff, then turned back to his serving girls.
“Find the murderer, Faen.”
“It is a very large universe, Ushan.” Lord Faen fluffed outthe pages of his book again. “Still, I am continually amazed at the things thatturn up when you least expect them.”
18
The underdark was unpleasant-wet, stinking, mold encrusted,and the phosphorescent light tended to make peoples teeth look violet. The sorry thing to say was that after a few days, Jus almost felt used to it. From time to time, noises far ahead gave warning hints of danger. The party hid themselves in side caves, screened by one of Escalla’s illusions as slow moving drow caravansplodded past. There were occasional monster tracks and occasional patches of deadly molds that Jus simply spotted and avoided. If one moved carefully and cleverly, it was quite possible to survive.
For a while. A very little while. Some of the monster tracks were… impressive.
For her part, Escalla seemed relatively unconcerned. Dressed in her latest attempt to make proper clothing out of black drow silks, she sat cross legged atop Jus’ head making herself a pair of long, fingerless gloves.
“Look, guys! When it gets warm, drow silk actually stretches!This stuff fits sheer.” The girl leaned over to look joyously into Jus’ face.“Isn’t that hoopy?”
“Yup.”
New clothes had kept Escalla fascinated for at least half an hour-half an hour that would have been better spent scouting for danger upahead.
“Don’t you think it’s hoopy?”
“It’s hoopy.” The Justicar managed to reach a finger up andplace it on the girl’s lips. “Now shush.”
After long miles of travel, the tunnels had suddenly become more chill. The scent of fresh water filled the air-a strangely clean,refreshing scent. With the tunnels echoing more and more loudly to the rush of a nearby stream, Jus shrugged the girl off and loosed the sword Benelux in its sheath.
The sword cleared its voice in prim suspicion. What is it?
“A river.” Jus found the sword vaguely annoying, but thenagain, he found a lot of things vaguely annoying. “Fresh water, fairly clean.”
Excellent! Brimming with satisfaction, the sword seemedto glow. Perhaps we might find a trading establishment-a tavern, a town, evena small port-where more suitable garments might be purchased, something fittingyour new status as companions of the magic sword.
“Is she still blathering?” Escalla flew over to slap thesword’s sheath. “You know, for someone who tolerates unicorn art, you sure arefree in handing out fashion advice!”
Young lady-Benelux gave a cool sniff-there is acertain element of the common about you.
“Oh, ain’t too much about me you could call common!” SomehowEscalla managed to strike a sultry pose whilst in flight.
Polk rummaged around in his belt pouch for something to eat. “Yep! The girl’s got class!”
“Class!” Escalla pinged her finger against the sword. Thegirl patted the scroll case that now hung between her wings. “Spells and wings,and a figure that sings. No one touches the faerie!”
Jus planted himself flat against an outcrop of rock, cautiously peering around a corner toward the unseen darkness ahead. Without looking back, he forestalled an angry retort from the magic sword.
“What was on those scrolls you found back where you caughtthat beholder?”
The girl beamed as she patted the scroll tube that hung between her wings. “A few cool spells! Earthy kinda ones. Flesh to stone. Stoneto mud. Pass wall. All pretty hoopy, huh?”
“Are they useful?”
“More or less. I’m gonna copy some of them into my spellbook,so I need to make ink. Can you let me know next time we find a trickle of water or something?”
Jus nodded his chin forward at the underdark. “How aboutthat one?”
The passageway had grown more dank, and clean moisture had cleared away much of the phosphorescent moss. Before the party ran a vast, dark rushing river that filled the caverns with a glorious surge of sound.
At the far side of the river, perhaps a hundred feet away, the passageway continued on toward the drow city-and according to the locatorneedle, toward Escalla’s slowglass bauble.
The river flowed powerfully, icy cold and pitch black. It blocked all possible progress. Escalla simply hovered and stared. Polk blinked, and Private Henry edged fearfully closer to the water until physically yanked back from the edge by Jus’ powerful hand.
Escalla blew out an annoyed breath and planted her fists upon her little hips.
“Well poo!” The girl shook her head. “You know, I have gotto find a way to make you people fly.”
There was no bridge, and the powerful current meant that there was no way to simply swim across. Escalla unshipped her wand, checked the charge and made a dissatisfied little noise.
“No way I can make an ice bridge all the way across. I’veonly got two more shots with this thing if I’m lucky. Remind me to recharge itwhen we get home.” She whirred upward, deliberately keeping well above thewater. “I’ll go over the other side and just take a look. Maybe there’s a reallybig drawbridge or something.”
The faerie disappeared in the dark. Anxious about letting the girl go alone, Jus kept a grip on the hilt of his sword and paced the banks. In the river, a fin briefly broke the surface-a fin from a fish that must have beenat least thirty feet long.
After a while, drifting faintly above the roar of the water, Escalla’s distant voice came from the dark. “Hey, guys! There’s some kinda giantfish man over here!”
Jus surged forward to the edge of the riverbank in alarm. “Ishe attacking you?”
“No!”
“What’s he doing?”
“Knitting lace. He’s pretty good!” Escalla’s voice couldbarely be heard over the rush of water “All right, he’s seen me. He looks likehe wants me to talk to him!”
Pacing, the Justicar bellowed hard to make himself heard. “Don’t get too close!”
“Jus, he’s a fish. I don’t really think I want to swapaddresses or anything.”
While they waited, Polk finished gnawing on a spider leg and Cinders sucked loudly on a piece of old coal.
Finally Escalla called over to them from the other bank, “He’s saying something! I can’t figure it out.”
“What?” Jus pushed Cinders’ back from his helm, trying tohear the girl properly. “Don’t you have a spell for translating languages?”