Descent into the Depths of the Earth (29 page)

Out in the caverns, the beholder roared in rage. There was an
explosion as some kind of magic blasted through the caves. In a panicked rush,
Escalla unfolded the cloth disk, accidentally holding it upside down. A bizarre
pile of junk instantly came crashing to the ground, scattering jewels all across
the floor.

“No no no!”

Cinders’ red glare flicked toward the door.
Faerie hurry!

“I’m doin’ it! I’m doin’ it!”

With a wail, Escalla dragged the hole over toward Jus’
backpack, planted her back against the bag and heaved it in. The backpack
tumbled into the portable hole with a crash, and Escalla ran over to do the same
with Polk’s luggage.

Polk’s pack felt as if it weighed a hundred tons. Escalla
almost ruptured herself trying to shift it, then she looked at the backpack and
saw that it was bulging with drow swords, shields, chainmail, cloaks… The
girl snarled, tore open the lacings, and accidentally spilled Polk’s luggage
across the floor. As she picked up the magic bottle, she suddenly felt a chill
run down her spine.

The floor had opened. Lying behind her was a coffin recess,
and in the coffin a mummified corpse lay with a crystal in its clawed hands. The
lich’s soul stole out from the stone, occupying its spare body. The cadaver sat
up, mad eyes opening. It whipped its head about to stare at the faerie and
opened its skeletal jaws in an enraged scream.

“Sacred wine!” Escalla shouted into the magic bottle. “Sacred
wine!”

The bottle suddenly began to gush. Escalla flung holy wine
over the lich’s face, and the monster screamed and began to dissolve. The
monster screeched and thrashed, hurling its magic crystal. Escalla hit the
crystal with the lich’s own staff, shattering it like glass and thus ending any
hopes for the lich’s return.

Tossing the magic flask into the portable hole, she grabbed
hold of Cinders, and ran as if every hungry denizen of the Nine Hells were right
behind her.

Outside the lich’s cave, the beholder rampaged in a mad dance
of destruction. Roofs were collapsing, and rocks showered down everywhere.
Escalla folded up the portable hole, shoved it through her belt, and dived
beneath the hell hound skin. She ran like a mad thing, holding Cinders’ head
over her own. The result was like watching a fireside rug zooming off to hunt
for prey.

Escalla raced along the northwest passageway. Behind her, the
beholder roared, still unmoving, but able now to thrash its many eyes. Spells
lashed out to rake the caves, keeping rock falls thundering from the ceiling
high above.

Jus stood waiting in the dark, sheltering behind a rock as
beholder spells blasted through the air. Passing the paralyzed Private Henry to
Polk, Jus reached down to save Escalla from drowning underneath Cinders’ fur.

“Cinders!”

Friend! The
hell hound happily wagged his tail.
Happy.

The sword in Jus’ hand made a sound uncannily like clearing
her throat. Jus held the sword out at arm’s length to stare at the blade and
asked, “Escalla, where did you get this?”

“Found it!” The faerie installed herself upon Jus’
shoulders. “Shiny, huh? I told you I’d find you one!”

Somewhat annoyed, the sword gave a self important sniff.
My name is Benelux. I am made from metallic light forged upon the positive
energy plane. Most pleased to meet you.

“Justicar.” Jus looked at the blade in bemusement. “Nice
knowing you.”

Fairly happy with her day, Escalla shrugged expressively
shrug. “I call ’er Spiky!” The girl whirred upward, dragging her friends down
the passageway. “Guys? I think the beholder is about to vaporize the last of the
trogs. We should probably get moving before he uses us for after dinner mints.”

The faerie sped off down the tunnel. With the beholder
causing a slaughterhouse somewhere behind them, Jus and Polk hastened to follow
the girl’s lead. Jus slung Cinders abut his shoulders, picked up Private Henry
beneath one arm, and marched off into the dark. Gleaming bright in his hand, the
unsheathed sword flooded the passageway with light.

Benelux’s voice echoed happily as the adventurers walked.
I say, you there! Canine! Have we been introduced?

No.
The dog skin wagged its tail.
Cinders.

Benelux. How do you do?
The sword sniffed suspiciously.
Are you certain you are a fit addition to this party?

Cinders wag-wag-wagged his tail.

Benelux seemed indignant.
Ye gods, you might be a mongrel!
I can hardly keep company with a mongrel! The Justicar is a swordsman, and
swordsmen by definition are
gentlemen.
He will no doubt be as
uncomfortable with the situation as I.

With his big grin gleaming, Cinders’ sniggered in the gloom.
Sword funny!

I
beg
your pardon!

Funny funny!
The hell hound waggled his ears.
Cinders’
new friend.

As the group jogged off down the tunnel, Benelux addressed
the Justicar.
Sir, I have grave doubts about the decorum of this party.

Ignoring it all, Jus merely walked faster. Far behind him,
distant walls crumbled as the beholder rampaged through the lich’s lair.

“Oh! Oh yeah! Yeah! Harder!
Harder!”
Lying on her
stomach on Cinders, Escalla ploughed her fingers into his fur and clenched her
toes. “Yeah! Oh push! Yeah!”

Lying face down on Cinders, scrubbed clean and awaiting her
fire-beetle roast, Escalla groaned and sighed as Jus massaged her back with one
careful finger and his thumbs. Escalla drummed her fist on the floor in fits of
ecstasy. Still paralyzed, Private Henry sat propped in a corner and could only
stare. Polk had been reunited with his whiskey bottle and was already giving the
day’s horrors a rosy glow. Jus, now repaired and wiped clean, sat beside the
steaming cooking pot that had served as Escalla’s bath, attending to the girl.
Knowing his friend far better than she thought, he rewarded her for the rescue
in the most practical way.

“Oooooh!” Escalla slumped in a post-massage daze. “Ooooh, I
love you!”

Jus gave a slow, knowing smile and let the comment slip.
Escalla sighed, unaware that she had ever spoken.

Propped within swift reach of the Justicar, Benelux made
disapproving sounds as Escalla’s noises went on.

Sir Justicar! This faerie of yours, is she always this noisy?

“I’m a screamer! What can I say?” Escalla answered the sword
without real malice. “You never get polished or anything?”

I have a permanent shine.
Benelux sniffed in cold
disapproval.
Expressions of pleasure are undignified.

“Yeah, but they add to the fun.” Escalla turned to jelly as
Jus hit the right spot just in the hollow of her neck. “Ooo yeah.”

A tireless man with strong hands, Jus showed no signs of
slowing in his work.

“Benelux, true worth is never obvious. Find the good in other
people and work outward from there.”

Hmph!
The sword’s flawless blade gleamed.
Of course
worth is obvious, because true worth is never slack. The wise must share their
wisdom, for the general elevation of all. Polk understands!
The sword had
apparently not yet heard Polk humming his rather off-color song about the
princess and the gnome.
This girl needs improvement. I intend to provide
suitable advice.

“Oh, be my guest.” Jus worked carefully on Escalla’s feet,
making the girl claw the giggling hell hound and scream like a happy banshee.
“But there are some battles best not fought.”

Benelux made a noise of scorn.
You are clearly tired, sir.
A true gentleman must realize that good fights are necessary fights.

“No argument there.”

Private Henry tried to talk but could only mumble. Escalla
looked up and patted the boy on one boot. He was at least back in his own
physical shape. White hair had hardly suited him.

“You all right, Hen?”

“Mrl murgle mungle.”

“Hoopy!” Escalla smiled then hissed as her calves were
massaged. “You’d think drow would carry the antidote to that stuff.”

Looking happily up from his bottle, Polk wreathed himself in
smiles. “There must be antidote there. Elves are elves. Ain’t all elves
logical?”

“Polk, they’re dark elves. If they were animals, they’d be
pond dwellers who eat their own young.”

The teamster looked about the little cavern in clear,
undiluted joy and said, “We now have one portable hole, ten feet deep by ten
feet wide.”

He folded up the portable hole and took charge of it himself,
putting it in his breast pocket with a satisfied pat. Reaching for his bottle,
he gave a toast to victory.

“I knew you could all handle it. Just needed the right
coaching. A prod. A push toward glory!” The little man crowed in triumph,
puffing out his meager pigeon chest. “That’s what Good does. It overcomes! It
triumphs in adversity! The more the obstacles, the greater the victory.”

“Yeah
right.”
Escalla was almost asleep, but
nevertheless managed to look up at the Justicar. “Hey, Jus? He thought we
weren’t coming to rescue you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Polk, say, ‘I have just been rescued by a teenaged boy and a
faerie’!”

Annoyed, Polk sniffed through his great hatchet nose. “I have
just been rescued by a teenaged boy and a faerie.”

“Good!” Rolling over, Escalla held up on self-righteous
little finger. “Now say ‘I, Polk, hereby declare that I owe the faerie a total
of seven hours of foot rubs, to be delivered at the rate of one half-hour per
evening for the next two weeks.’” The faerie hovered overhead as Polk irritably
muttered the promise. “Good! And Private Henry hereby requires a really big
chapter in your chronicles, all about how he blitzed a beholder and became a
total hero.” The girl rubbed her eyes, more than ready for sleep. “Are we all
happy?”

The sword Benelux snorted.
No.

“Is everyone
important
happy?” Escalla gave a titanic
yawn. “Then let’s get some sleep.” The girl rolled herself up in silks and
nuzzled happily down into Cinders’ soft black fur. “You guys had a hard day.
I’ll take first watch.”

She was asleep in moments. Jus tucked her in, patted Cinders
on the head and served out dinner to his companions. He popped a coal into
Cinders’ mouth, put Henry in a comfortable position away from the fire, then
watched as the adventurers slowly drifted off to sleep.

Escalla rolled over in her bed, fast asleep, and quietly
murmured Jus’ name. The big man sat beside her, looking down at the little form
with its strangely innocent little smile.

Jus quietly bent over and kissed Escalla in her sleep. He
stroked her hair then sat down to keep watch over his friends.

Behind him, Cinders grinned his piranha grin and quietly
thumped his tail.

* * *

“You!”

Lord Ushan burst into the pearlwood chambers, his robes
swirling with illusory flame. He pointed one finger in accusation at Lord Faen.
“Clan Nightshade kills a scion of the Seelie Court, and yet you elect to sit
here as their guest!”

Closing one of Clan Nightshade’s books, Lord Faen raised his
brows and replied, “This is common enough knowledge. I have no reason to
depart.” Lord Faen tilted his head to gaze at Lord Ushan thoughtfully. “You seem
to have been sadly out of touch.”

“I have estates to govern! Bifrost, Beastlands, Elysium! Girl
or no girl, some of us still have to rule!”

“Estates. How interesting.” Lord Faen arose and walked
quietly over to the windows, looking out across Lord Charn’s lake. It all had a
wonderfully 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, at
least 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, we
are all touched by your loss. Is there to be a service in Tarquil’s memory? I
really 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.