“Whenever you know where we are going, I am ready,” he said.
“Sorry, Omax, but you know this can be tricky to triangulate,” Tristam said, scratching his chin as he looked one way, then the next. “Remember how easily we lost Seren?”
Then it struck her, what had bothered her from before. “Tristam, you can track the lens even though you only handled it for a moment,” she said. “If Marth is an artificer as well, shouldn’t he be able to do the same?”
“Doubtful,” Tristam said. “The transfusion I used is very rare. Ashrem taught it to me himself. Even if Marth could do it, he’d have to be an artificer of extraordinary power to sense its location all the way from Wroat.”
“And what if he is?” Seren asked. “You saw what he did to the inn. Are we talking impossible or improbable?”
Tristam grimaced. “Improbable,” he admitted. “Let’s not dwell on that, Seren; we already have enough worries.” He pointed. “It’s that way.”
“Are you sure?” Omax asked, still sitting.
“I think so,” Tristam answered, scratching his chin again.
Omax rose with what sounded like a sigh. They continued moving cautiously, if a bit quicker than before. They were almost at the center of town now, and when they emerged at the mouth of an alley Seren thought she heard Omax chuckle.
“How fortunate we are for your magical tracking ability, Tristam,” Omax said. “We might never have found this.”
A large sign emblazoned with an open eye hung above a door across the street. It read:
INQUISITIVE FOR HIRE
NO QUESTIONS ASKED
ALL QUESTIONS ANSWERED
REASONABLE RATES
INQUIRE WITHIN
“Well, look at that,” Tristam said, shoulders slumping as he read the sign.
Seren smiled, but her smile faded as she studied the surrounding buildings. They were uniformly dark and rundown, like the rest of the village. There was no way of telling who might be within, or if Arthen’s home was already being watched from one of them. In a place like Black Pit, it was almost impossible to find anything conspicuously suspicious, since everything was already rather shady and threatening.
Then Seren saw the small figure crouching on the rooftop next to Arthen’s office. She darted forward, seizing Tristam by the sleeve and pulling him back into the alley. Wordlessly, she pointed up.
“Let’s sneak around behind that building to the right,” Tristam said. “We should be able to get up on that roof behind him without him noticing.”
“We probably don’t need to,” Seren said. “Whoever that is, they aren’t going anywhere unless Arthen does. What if they cry out and Arthen hears?”
“He isn’t going to hear anything with the racket out tonight,” Tristam answered.
Seren couldn’t really argue the point, though the mysterious noise emanating from the Pit made her less eager to stumble through dark alleys. Omax led the way around to the back of the building adjacent to Arthen’s. The alley was littered with refuse and heaped with the black filth that fell from the sky. Seren searched the wall for a way up, but saw nothing beyond a few rough handholds in the stone wall. She prepared to climb, but was surprised to find her feet rooted firmly to the ground.
“What are we standing in?” she asked, twisting to look at the ground beneath her.
The shrieking that resounded from the pit erupted much closer. The pile of garbage that littered the alley exploded into movement. A grotesque amorphous shape surged toward them, a greasy pile of gray flesh studded with bloodshot eyes and clicking, fanged mouths. The sound that came from within it drilled into Seren’s head, shaking her bones and robbing her of the will to act. She felt the ground suck at her feet. What once was sturdy earth now sucked at her calves. Tristam reached for his wand with a numb, shaking hand. The creature vomited a ball of black spit in the artificer’s eyes and he fell back, screaming and clawing at his face.
The thing knocked Tristam down with a fleshy limb and rolled over his helpless form, extending more twisted hideous arms toward Seren. Then Omax was there, charging into the creature headfirst. He hit the thing squarely with a meaty slap and it began to extend fleshy, biting tentacles around the warforged’s body. With a heavy grunt and a heave, Omax grasped the beast with both arms and lifted it from the ground, pulling it off Tristam’s body. He hurled it to the opposite side of the alley. It struck the wall with the sound of cracking stone and oozed downward, leaving a trail of red ichor in its wake. Omax wrapped one arm around Seren’s waist and pulled her free of the quagmire. The shifting ground was swiftly becoming stone again now that the creature was further away.
“Finish it, Tristam,” Omax said.
“I can’t see!” the artificer said, panicked. He had tilted back his head and was now liberally dousing his face with something out of a vial from his pocket.
The creature pulled itself together with a bubbling noise. Its eyes wobbled unsteadily, then all swiveled in the same direction at once, focusing on Omax. Seren drew her knife, out of habit more than any real belief it would help. With a sudden surge it opened all the mouths on its body at once, screaming with a mad, gibbering cry.
A crossbow bolt shot down from the roof above, leaving a trail of sparks as it flew directly into one of the creature’s mouths. The abomination bit down hard. A muffled thud rocked the street just as fire erupted from several of the creature’s orifices. A cloud of oily black smoke coughed out a moment later. The monster settled to the earth with a disgusting rasp of released gas.
Tristam looked around, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. “What happened?” he asked. “Is it dead?”
“That looked like one of your explosive potions,” Omax said, peering up at the roof above them.
“That’s because it was,” said Gerith Snowshale, hopping down from the roof. He tucked his crossbow back into his belt with a scowl. “Are you hurt?”
“Other than accumulating more character, I am fine,” Omax said, poking the bite marks on his left forearm with one finger as he assessed the damage.
“Gerith, what are you doing here?” Seren asked, tucking her knife away.
“How did you get one of my potions?” Tristam asked.
Gerith pretended the question did not exist. He looked up at Seren with a charming grin. “I’ve been spying on Zed Arthen for four days,” he said to her. “Didn’t you know? I thought Dalan sent you to check on me.”
“Not exactly,” Tristam said, looking at Omax for support. The warforged was still studying the dents on his arm, ignoring Tristam.
“He doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?” Gerith said, looking up at Tristam and chuckling with malicious glee.
A sharp reptilian squawk sounded from above, blending easily with the shrieking of the pit, but Gerith stopped speaking and looked up instantly. He replied with a similar cry, and Blizzard landed on the street nearby with a leathery flap.
“Arthen’s moving,” Tristam said.
“I know,” Gerith said, hopping into the saddle. “Keep up if you can, but try to keep your distance. And Seren.” The halfling looked at her pointedly. “Keep those two out of trouble.”
Omax looked up at Gerith in shock. The halfling gave a final cocky smile and flapped away on his glidewing.
CHAPTER 13
Seren’s life as a street rat had made her fairly competent at shadowing people, or at least she’d thought as much. She was capable of fading into the background and following a mark for hours without attracting his attention. It was easier with a crowd to act as cover, but nearly as simple on a dark evening like tonight. In a place like Black Pit, it should have been relatively simple. To her surprise, Zed Arthen lost her in less than two minutes. She had only one clear glimpse of his ratty brown coat before he disappeared into another alley, during which she noticed that he had a large sword strapped to his back.