When Henri appeared, sans Ash, Marrec feared the worst, but Elowen noted that there were still supplies in Henri’s saddlebags. The horse yet wore the bridle given it by the Nentyarch. The elf hunter figured the horse had escaped, nothing more.
Gunggari soon confirmed her hypothesis when he backtracked the horse to the lane’s end. A hole gaped in the base of a weed-infested mound. The Oslander indicated clear signs that two people, one a child, had entered the mound, taking steep stairs downward.
“How much time?” asked Marrec.
“Not more than an hour. We have a real chance to catch them.”
Ususi said, “It appears we have reached the dark ways the Nentyarch described.”
Marrec asked, “Where is the map the Nentyarch gave us? Does it show this entrance?”
Elowen retrieved the map scroll from her pack and unrolled it across the face of a large boulder. The group gathered round.
“Unfortunately, no,” said Elowen after a few seconds of study.
Marrec identified the Rawlinswood and the Arches of Xenosi. The map recorded where the Arches petered out, apparently where they stood. According to the map, the entrance identified by the Nentyarch was further back, located midway along the lane made by the
Arches and about half a mile to the east of the lane.
Ususi said, “This mound isn’t even noted on the map. It’s a waste.”
Elowen replied, the slightest flush tinting her face, “Don’t be rash. If Fallon is heading for the center, no doubt he shall wander onto or across the route marked by the Nentyarch.”
Marrec pointed to a tag on the map, asking, “What’s the ‘Lurker in the Middle’ and why should we ‘beware’ it?”
Elowen said, “Some Nar demon bound below the earth, probably, but maybe not completely bound.”
Gunggari asked, “I would like to know more about these Nar. Such knowledge may aid us if we venture into their realm of old.”
Elowen nodded, rolling up the map. She said, “I can tell you something of ancient Narfell. This is what my mentor taught me when I was a child.
“More than a thousand years ago the sorcerous land of Narfell grew mighty on the strength of its unholy mages and cruel priest-lords. It was Narfell’s trafficking with demons that contributed to its eventual downfall, though I do not know specifically the event that brought them down. Secrets of the old Nar lore draw unscrupulous spellcasters who attempt to plunder buried vaults in search of knowledge and power. Rawlinswood is thick with these vaults. It’s sort of like one extended vault, I suppose.”
Ususi commented, “One can’t be a practicing mage in these parts without hearing about Nar rituals, Nar obscenities, and trinkets of supposed Narfell vintage. I’ve found that most are fakes, sold by fakir wizards to the credulous.”
Marrec realized that Ususi was admitting to being fooled herself on at least one occasion.
“Demons and foul magic, then,” said Gunggari. “Can demons be any worse than the blightlords and their pets we’ve already faced?”
Ususi said, “They could. Demons are not from the world. They have an infernal power, and some even have abilities that could imperil your immortal spirit.”
“Hmm,” was Gunggari’s only response.
Marrec walked to the edge of the mound entrance. “Let’s go.”
Gunggari and Ususi stepped forward, but Elowen said, “Hold on, what about Henri? We can’t just leave him.”
Ususi said, “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard of such thingsmounts being left at the mouths of subterranean passages too narrow for hooves. He should be safe enough until we return. If we return.”
“He won’t be safe in the Rawlinswood.” The elf stroked the pony’s mane.
Marrec paused. He had much on his mind, but he knew he couldn’t forsake the creature. He said, “Henri is too large to negotiate the stairs.”
“Too bad. We could have used a packhorse,” said Gunggari. The Oslander was nothing if not practical.
“Remember, Elowen, he yet wears the gift of the Nentyarch. It was that magic that probably allowed Henri to find us just now. I don’t doubt that it will see him safe all the way back to Yeshelmaar.”
Elowen subsided. “I suppose you’re right. He’s probably safer than we are, come to think of it. We’ve just cleared the path back out of the forest.”
They sent Henri on his way. The pony didn’t seem dispirited to put his back to the dark, ill-smelling stairs.
They descended. The stairs were steep. Worse, the breadth of each step was shallow. Hard packed earth, then smooth stone, rose up on either side as they descended ever deeper below the surface.
Ususi conjured a light, one on the tip of Marrec’s spear, and one for herself. The radiance was strong and unwavering, exactly unlike the light of a torch or even magical lights that emulated candle or torch flame to which Marrec was most accustomed. The woman possessed exotic spells, that was certain.
“It’s getting colder,” said Marrec.
Ususi responded, “That’s normal underground.”
“No. I mean, I’ve experienced the subterranean chill beforethis is unnaturally cold.”
The stairs ended on a landing below. The light on Marrec’s spear revealed the truth of his words. Ice slicked the walls, glinting like crystal. An icy arch opened into a dark space beyond.
Marrec stepped off the stairs and up to the arch. He thrust his light through to reveal a wide, flat tunnel, obviously worked. The passage was completely sheathed in ice to the limit of Marrec’s light source. Ice sickles hung like stalactites from the ceiling. His breath steamed out before him
Marrec turned to Gunggari, “I don’t suppose you brought your furs, eh?”
Gunggari shook his head, “They’re back in Yeshelmaar. We departed too quickly for me to gather all my effects.”
“Yeah, I remember,” responded the cleric.
Gunggari bent, touching the floor. He said, “They went this way. Come.”
A voice, stark and devoid of warmth, spoke from the darkness ahead. It said something in a language incomprehensible to Marrec.
Ususi said in a quiet voice, “That is the language of the Abyss. Looks like you get to meet your first demon, Gunggari.”
A creature of black ice slid into the light. It eased to a stop not more than ten feet from Marrec, without any outward sign of effort or limb movement. The creature was something like a wolf, though its icy composition and size belied any thought of a natural origin. Points of red hellfire burned in its eye sockets. The shards and chunks of ice that made up the creature flexed and pulsed in sick mockery of life, or with a life usually unknown except in the cold nether regions of Abyssal provenance. The monstrosity was wrapped in stink, reminiscent of a corpse buried in winter snow disturbed by scavengers.
The cleric made to cast his spear.
The demon spoke again, but that time in a language Marrec could understand. It said, “Parley.” It rose to its rear legs, standing with an obscene approximation of a biped.
“Parley,” it said again. “Speak with the Queen Abiding. Make agreement good for you, good for she that Abides.”
When it talked, its breath chilled Marrec even where he stood.
“How can we trust you, demon?” called Ususi, coughing slightly, holding a hand over her mouth and nose.
The creature raised one hand palm forward and said simply, “Come.”
Marrec refrained from casting Justlance. He asked, “Can you tell us about the male elf and child who passed this way a little while ago?”
“Ask the queen.”
Without looking away from the icy envoy, Marrec said, “What do you think, Gunny?”
“I have no experience with demons, Marrec, but someone told me once that demons are infernal.” The tattooed soldier shot a glance at the mage.
Ususi chimed in, “Bargains with demons rarely work in the favor of any other than the demon in the long run.”