“That’s my concern!”
Padishar’s face turned sharply into the light. It was crisscrossed with welts and cuts from last night’s battle, tiny lines that seemed to reflect the deeper scars the Dwarf bore. “And none of mine,” he said quietly. “So long as you understand.”
They went into the sick bay, where Padishar took one of the other outlaws aside and spoke softly to him. Morgan could just make out what was being said.
“Rouse Chandos,” Padishar ordered. “Tell him I want the camp mobilized. Check the watch, be certain it’s awake and alive. Make ready to move everyone out. Then he’s to come after me into the hidden tunnel, the bolt hole. With help. Tell him I said that we’re all done with secrecy, so it doesn’t matter now who knows what he’s about. Now get to it!”
The man scurried off, and Padishar beckoned wordlessly to Morgan and Steff. He led them through the main cavern into the deep recesses where the stores were kept. He lit three torches, kept one for himself and gave one each to the Highlander and the Dwarf. Then he took them into the very back of the farthest chamber where the cases were stacked against the rock wall, handed his torch to Morgan, grabbed the cases in both hands and pulled. The false front opened into the tunnel beyond. They slipped through the opening, and Padishar pulled the packing crates back into place.
“Stay close,” he warned.
They hurried into the dark, the torches smoking above them, casting their weak yellow light against the shadows. The tunnel was wide, but it twisted and turned. Rock outcroppings made the passage hazardous; there were stalactites and stalagmites both, wicked stone icicles. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled in the rock, the only sound in the silence other than their footsteps. It was cold in the caves, and the chill quickly worked its way through Morgan’s clothes. He shivered as he trailed after Padishar. Steff trailed them both, walking haltingly on his own, his breathing ragged and quick.
Morgan wondered suddenly what they were going to do when they found Teel.
He made a mental check of his weapons. He had the newly acquired broadsword strapped across his back, a dagger in his belt, and another in his boot. At his waist, he wore the shortened scabbard and the remains of the Sword of Leah.
Not much help against a Shadowen, he thought worriedly. And how much use would Steff be, even after he discovered the truth? What would he do?
If only I still had the magic...
He forced the thought away from him, knowing what it would lead to, determined that he would not allow his indecision to bind him again.
The seconds ticked by, and the echo of their passing reverberated in the sound of the men’s hurried footsteps. The walls of the tunnel narrowed down sharply, then broadened out again, a constant change of size and shape. They passed through a series of underground caverns where the torchlight could not even begin to penetrate the shadows that cloaked the hollow, vaulted roofs. A little farther on, a series of crevices opened before them, several almost twenty feet across. Bridges had been built to span them, wooden slats connected by heavy ropes, the ropes anchored in the rock by iron pins. The bridges swayed and shook as they crossed, but held firm.
All the while they walked, they kept watch for Teel. But there was no sign of her.
Steff was beginning to have trouble keeping up. He was enormously strong and fit when well, but whatever sickness had attacked him—if indeed it was a sickness and he had not been poisoned as Morgan was beginning to surmise—had left him badly worn. He fell repeatedly and had to drag himself up again each time. Padishar never slowed. The big man had meant what he said—Steff was on his own. The Dwarf had gotten this far on sheer determination, and Morgan did not see how he could maintain the pace the outlaw chief was setting much longer. The Highlander glanced back at his friend, but Steff didn’t seem to see him, his haunted eyes searching the shadows, sweeping the curtain of black beyond the light.
They were more than a mile into the mountain when a glimmer of light appeared ahead, a pinprick that quickly became a glow. Padishar did not slow or bother to disguise his coming. The tunnel broadened, and the opening ahead brightened with the flicker of torches. Morgan felt his heartbeat quicken.
They entered a massive underground cavern ablaze with light. Torches were jammed into cracks in the walls and floors, filling the air with smoke and the smell of charred wood and burning pitch. At the center of the cavern a huge crevice split the chamber floor end to end, a twisted maw that widened and narrowed as it worked its way from wall to wall. Another bridge had been built to span the crevice at its narrowest juncture, this one a massive iron structure. Machinery had been installed on the near side of the crevice to raise and lower it. The bridge was down at the moment, linking the halves of the cavern floor. Beyond, the flat rock stretched away to where the tunnel disappeared once more into darkness.
Teel stood next to the bridge machinery, hammering.
Padishar Creel came to a stop, and Morgan and Steff quickly came up beside him. Teel hadn’t heard or seen them yet, their footfalls muffled by the sounds she was making as she hammered, their torchlight enveloped by the cavern’s own brightness.
Padishar laid down his torch. “She’s jammed the machinery. The bridge can’t be raised again.” His eyes found Steff’s. “If we let her, she will bring the Federation right to us.”
Steff stared wildly. “No!” he gasped in disbelief.
Padishar ignored him. He unsheathed his broadsword and started forward.
Steff lunged after him, tripping, falling, then crying out frantically, “Teel!”
Teel whirled about. She held an iron bar in her hands, the smooth surface bright with nicks from where she had been smashing the bridge works. Morgan could see the damage clearly now, winches split apart, pulleys forced loose, gears stripped. Teel’s hair glittered in the light, flashing with traces of gold. She faced them, her mask revealing nothing of what she was thinking, an expressionless piece of leather strapped about her head, the eyeholes dark and shadowed.
Padishar closed both big hands about the broadsword, lifting its blade into the light. “End of the line for you, girl,” he snapped.
The echo filled the cavern, and Steff came to his feet, lurching ahead. “Padishar, wait!” he howled.
Morgan jumped to intercept him, caught hold of his arm and jerked him about. “No, Steff, that isn’t Teel! Not anymore!” Steff’s eyes were bright with anger and fear. Morgan lowered his voice, speaking quickly, calmly. “Listen to me. That’s a Shadowen, Steff. How long since you’ve seen the face beneath that mask? Have you looked at it? It isn’t Teel under there anymore. Teel’s been gone a long time.”
The anger and fear turned to horror. “Morgan, no! I would know! I could tell if it wasn’t her!”
“Steff, listen...”
“Morgan, he’s going to kill her! Let me go!”
Steff jerked free and Morgan grabbed him again. “Steff, look at what she’s done! She’s betrayed us!”
“No!” the Dwarf screamed and struck him.
Morgan went down in a heap, the force of the blow leaving him stunned. His first reaction was surprise; he hadn’t thought it possible that Steff could still possess such strength. He pushed himself to his knees, watching as the Dwarf raced after Padishar, screaming something the Highlander couldn’t understand.
Steff caught up with the big man when they were just a few steps from Teel. The Dwarf threw himself on Padishar from behind, seizing his sword arm, forcing it down. Padishar shouted in fury, tried to break free and failed. Steff was all over him, wrapped about him like a second skin.
In the confusion, Teel struck. She was on them like a cat, the iron bar lifted. The blows hammered down, quick and unchallenged, and in a matter of seconds both Padishar and Steff lay bleeding on the cavern floor.