Return of the Sorceress (13 page)

Maddoc frowned. “Did you see these intruders?”

“No,” Oddvar admitted. “But two of the four hounds are missing, presumably lost during the cave-in. But while the remaining two survived, they suffered serious wounds. Wounds caused by edged weapons.”

A suspicion began to grow in Maddoc’s mind. “Where exactly did this cave-in take place?”

“On the grounds to the west side of the keep, where that large boulder rests. I mean,
used
to rest. It was swallowed by the collapse.”

Maddoc’s lips curled into a slow smile, and despite himself, he couldn’t keep a touch of pride out of his voice as he said, “Clever boy.” He looked at Oddvar. “I believe Nearra’s friends have come to the fair maid’s rescue and plan to steal into the keep using the tunnels beneath it. Though it seems as if things didn’t quite go as planned when they attempted to find their way into the tunnels.”

“If you’re talking about the cave-in, then they’re all dead,” Oddvar said. “Nothing standing on the surface could’ve survived such an extensive collapse.”

“Perhaps,” Maddoc said. “But over the last year I’ve learned not to underestimate Davyn and his companions. Take several guards and investigate the area of destruction more closely. If you find their bodies, do your best to recover them. Despite our differences, I would give Davyn a proper burial. As for the others, I can always use more raw material for my work. But if you discover no bodies, try to find a way into the tunnels and search for the young ones. If you find them alive, make certain you don’t leave them that way.”

“What about Nearra?”

“I’ll tend to her myself. Now go.”

Oddvar bowed. “As you wish.” The Theiwar straightened then turned to leave. But before the dark dwarf could reach the door, Maddoc called after him.

“And Oddvar, if you find Davyn alive, bring him to me. I would have words with my son.”

The dark dwarf bowed one last time and then left the room.
Neither the Theiwar nor his master noticed a small blue-eyed mosquito that accompanied Oddvar out.

Davyn opened his eyes, but all he saw were strange swirls of softly glowing multicolored light. I must be asleep and dreaming, he thought, and closed his eyes again.

Funny, it didn’t feel like he was dreaming. The air was cool and damp and the ground beneath was hard and rocky. There was a dull pain in his lower back, and when he felt around to see what was causing it, he discovered he was lying on top of his bow.

Feels awfully real for a dream.

He opened his eyes and once again saw only undulating colors. He’d seen something like this before, but he couldn’t recall where.

Then he remembered: the hounds attacking, fighting the beasts alongside Elidor, risking a quick glance to see how Sindri was doing, seeing the boulder floating in the air, wrapped in colorful tendrils of magic power that extended from Sindri’s fingers … but then something happened and the tendrils vanished and the giant rock fell to the earth. Davyn recalled the loud booming sound of its impact, the feel of the ground trembling beneath his feet, beginning to give way. And then he was falling … no,
floating
, swaddled in a cool mist of roiling colors. Colors like those that surrounded him now.

He knew then that this was no dream.

He sat up. The colored mist was so thick that he couldn’t see anything else. “Is anyone here?” he called out. His voice sounded strange, as if the mist swallowed up his words before he finished speaking them.

“I’m here,” Catriona said. Her voice was muffled as well.

“Me, too,” Ayanti said.

“I wish I weren’t here,” Elidor said.

Davyn waited for Sindri to answer, but the kender didn’t respond. Davyn pictured the little wizard crushed beneath tons of earth, but he pushed the image from his mind. This mist, whatever it was, had to have been caused by Sindri. If the mist was still here, then there was a good chance that Sindri was too.

“I can’t see any of you,” Ayanti said. She sounded frightened, and Davyn didn’t blame her. He was more than a little frightened.

“It’s this confounded mist,” Elidor said. “It’s so thick you can’t see a thing.”

“Everyone keep talking so we can find each other,” Catriona said.

“Move carefully,” Davyn warned. “From the feel of the ground, I’d say we’ve fallen into one of the tunnels, and after the cave-in, there’s no telling how stable it is.”

“What a cheerful thought,” Elidor muttered.

The companions continued speaking, mostly saying variations on “I’m over here, where are you?” and making their way through the mist until at last they found one another. They took a quick headcount and discovered that only Sindri was missing.

“Oh no,” Catriona breathed.

“That idiotic kender!” Elidor said, his voice on the verge of breaking. “If he’s dead, I’ll drag his body to a cleric, have him resurrected, and then I’ll kill him!”

“I’m … not dead … yet.” The voice was so soft they could barely hear it, but it was unmistakably Sindri’s. “But if I … lose concentration again … tons of soil and rock will … fall on us and we’ll … all be killed.”

Davyn couldn’t understand what was happening. They seemed to be wrapped in the protective embrace of magic, and the multicolored mist prevented the earth above from collapsing
down on them. Sindri said the magic was coming from him, but how could that be? Kender don’t have
real
magic powers. Was the ring he’d given Sindri powerful enough to levitate the earth above them?

Davyn shook his head to clear it. For now it didn’t matter. “We have to find a way out of here—now.”

He thought quickly. “Sindri, try to keep talking. Elidor, the rest of us will remain quiet while you attempt to locate him. When you do, lift him carefully and bring him over to Ayanti. Set him gently upon her back, and then we’ll all try to find a way out this mess.”

“All right … Davyn,” Sindri said. He sounded as if he were close to total exhaustion. Davyn knew they’d have to hurry.

Sindri continued to mumble, and Davyn couldn’t make out the words, but he hoped that Elidor’s elf ears could. He strained to hear Elidor’s movements, but even without the sound-suppressing effect of the mist, the elf moved so silently that Davyn wouldn’t have been able to hear him anyway.

Moments passed with agonizing slowness, each one seeming to last several eternities. Davyn expected the colors swirling before their eyes to fade and tons of earth come crashing down upon them. But then Sindri’s voice began to get louder, and Davyn knew Elidor had found the kender and was carrying him to Ayanti.

A few moments later, Elidor said, “It’s done.”

Davyn felt like cheering, but he knew they weren’t out of danger yet. “We need to move farther down the tunnel. If we can get far enough away from this section before Sindri’s, uh, spell ends, we should be unaffected when the ground collapses.”

“There’s that word again,” Elidor said with a sigh.
“Should.”

“Which direction?” Catriona asked. “One way might lead toward Cairngorn Keep, but the other might lead away from it.”

Davyn had no way of knowing. He’d gotten all turned around during the first cave-in, and the mist was still clogging the tunnel, making it impossible to see.

“Elidor, can you see through this mist?” Davyn asked.

“No, not even my eyes can penetrate this murk,” the elf answered.

“Straight ahead,” Ayanti said with conviction.

“Are you certain?” Elidor asked.

“Yes. Centaurs have a highly developed sense of direction. The keep lies before us.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Davyn said. “Everyone stand close to Ayanti and let’s go.”

“Better hurry,” Sindri said.

There was a soft patter like raindrops falling, and Davyn felt tiny objects pelting him. Sindri’s spell was beginning to fade and bits of rock and soil were starting to fall though the mystic barrier.

If they’d been able to see, Davyn would’ve shouted for them to run, but with their vision obscured by the same mist that protected them, they could all too easily run straight into a tunnel wall. Despite the rain of rock and dirt coming down, they had no choice but to move forward at a slow walk.

It was like something out of a nightmare, as they took one torturous step after another. Now clumps of soil and fist-sized rocks came down. Once Ayanti stumbled and a torrent of soil fell upon them. Davyn was terrified that Sindri’s concentration had been broken, but then the flow of earth diminished and they were able to continue on.

Eventually the rain of dirt began to slacken and the colors of mist started to grow dull. Davyn realized they were reaching the boundaries of the protective zone the kender’s magic had created. They were going to make it!

“That’s far enough.”

The voice came from behind them, but not nearly far enough behind to suit Davyn. It was Shiriki.

“My cousin and I appreciate your leading us to safety, but I’m afraid we can’t allow you to go any farther. You wounded us and killed our employer. Now it’s time to pay.”

“You talk when instead you should strike,” Catriona said. “Run!” she shouted.

Davyn heard the cloppata-cloppata-cloppata of galloping hooves as Ayanti surged forward. Davyn ran to keep up with the centaur, one hand on her flank to guide him. He hoped that Catriona and Elidor were managing to keep up as well, for he had a good idea what Catriona had in mind next.

“Let it fall, Sindri!” the warrior shouted. “Let it all fall!”

Just like that the mist vanished and there was a deafening roar, as if the world collapsed behind them. The vibrations of the falling rock and soil knocked them off their feet, and they lay on the ground, feeling the earth shudder and buck beneath them. The tunnel was filled with dust, and they all coughed as they struggled to breathe.

Then it was over.

The earth grew still, and the roar of falling rock became nothing more than a ringing echo in their ears. Slowly, the dust began to settle, and though breathing wasn’t comfortable, it became easier.

Davyn sat up. “Is everyone all right?” He could barely hear his own voice though the ringing in his ears. They all answered that they were unharmed, if shaken up.

Sindri moaned. “I’m so weary, I feel as if I haven’t slept for a year.”

“You’ll be fine,” Davyn said. I hope, he added mentally. “You’ve got the mystic equivalent of physical fatigue. It used to happen to Maddoc all the time when he overextended himself.”

“If you say so, Davyn. All I know is this feeling”—Sindri yawned—“isn’t much fun.”

The rest of the companions got to their feet and dusted off. Davyn took a lantern out of his pack, but it was broken, so he tossed it onto the ground. Catriona’s lantern, however, was intact. She lit it and shone the light onto the tunnel behind them. A mound of rock and soil blocked the tunnel less than twenty feet behind them. If they’d run any slower, they would’ve been buried.

Ayanti looked at Davyn. “Do you think Kuruk and Shiriki …?”

As if in answer, a moan came from the mound of rubble, and a hand pushed its way free of the debris. It was a slender, feminine, elf hand.

Shiriki was alive.

    D
id you hear something?” Fyren asked, a quaver in his voice.

“No,” Drefan said.

“Me neither,” Gifre said, but then added, “well, maybe.”

The trio of goblins stood in front of a large oak door on the lowest level of the keep. They held short swords at their sides, ready to use them at the first sign of trouble.

“Why so nervous, Fyren?” Drefan asked.

“Me nervous?” Fyren forced a laugh. “Why should a mighty goblin warrior such as myself be afraid of a tiny slip of a girl?”

“That’s right!” Gifre echoed.

Drefan raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I ask, because this is the eighth time in the last hour that one of you
didn’t
hear anything.”

Neither Fyren nor Gifre replied.

“The door is locked,” the goblin leader said. “Besides us, only Maddoc and Oddvar have keys. And Maddoc placed protective wardspells on the door so that if anyone on the outside
or
the inside even tries to touch the handle without the right key in their hand, they’ll regret it. As guard jobs go, this is as good as it gets. We’re not really needed. We’re just here for show.”