Corin gasped as he realized what the wizard had done. "Oh, bravo, Beckla!" he exclaimed, clapping Ms hands together, tattered lace cuffs fluttering. That was simply brilliant. A virtuoso performance." He snapped his fingers as an idea occurred to him.

"Why, perhaps it would hearten Artek further if I uttered the same epitaph. Now, what were the words?" He braced his shoulders and lowered his voice, speaking the words with exaggerated bravado. "Malth al nothilk, Artek Аr'talen!"

For a moment Artek and Beckla stared at the puffed-up lord. Then both burst into laughter. Corin frowned in confusion.

"I don't understand," he sputtered. "Why are you laughing? Aren't you supposed to be absolutely furious with me? I just said your heart was a goblin's!"

"No, you didn't," Artek replied.

"Well, what did I say?" the nobleman asked indignantly.

Beckla let out a snort. "You said, Tour ears are made of cheese, Artek Ar’talen.'"

The two broke into renewed peals of mirth. Corin stared at them with a hurt expression until Artek took pity on the lord.

"Don't worry, Corin," he said. "Well make an ore of you yet." He gave the young man a friendly slap on the back, and Corin stumbled forward, eyes bulging at the force of the blow.

"Er, thank you," he murmured. "I think."

His black leather creaking, Artek prowled back and forth. He knew what they needed to do-get out of Undermountain. Now, how by the Shadows of Shar were they going to do it? The obvious thing was to attempt to work their way upward through Halaster's mad labyrinth. However, according to Beckla's spell, they were terribly deep-deeper than anyone had gone and managed to return in nearly a thousand years. Artek didn't like those odds, and instinct told him that there was little hope in heading upward. But what other alternative was there?

His black eyes glittered sharply. The inkling of an, idea crept into his cunning mind. He turned toward the wizard. "Beckla, you said that Halaster enchanted the walls of Undermountain so that no one could magically teleport in or out."

"That's right."

"So how was it that the gate Melthis gave me was able to transport us so much deeper? Doesn't that mean that it is possible to teleport here?"

The wizard shook her head. "No, it doesn't. Like I said earlier, gates are different. A spell of teleportation instantly moves a person or object from one place to another. And Halaster's magic blocks such spells. But when you pass through a gate, you don't really move at all. Instead, the gate magically brings two different places close together. It's space that moves, not you."

Artek frowned at this explanation. "I don't exactly follow you."

"I suppose that's why I'm the wizard," she replied dryly. "Here, I'll show you." She reached out and grabbed the pebble that still hovered in midair from her earlier spell. She held her hands flat and apart, the pebble resting on her left palm. "Say I'm the pebble, and I want to get from my left hand to my right. If I cast a teleport spell, it's like jumping from hand to hand instantly." With a deft flick of her wrist, she tossed the pebble and caught it in her right hand. "But a gate works more like a window opening between two places. Effectively, it brings the two locations next to each other." She moved her hands until they were touching. "Then it's only a short step sideways from one place to the next." She tilted her right hand, and the pebble rolled onto the left. She tossed the pebble toward Artek. "Got it?"

He snatched the pebble out of the air, then held it between his fingers, studying it thoughtfully. "Got it." He digested this new information, and gradually his.plan grew clearer. "So instead of trying to find our way up through an endless maze, all we need to do is find another one of these gates."

If there are any others," Beckla amended cautiously.

There have to be others," Artek replied. "All the stories tell how Halaster abducted living things-people and monsters alike-for use in his magical experiments. He had to have some way to bring them down here. And from what you've said, a gate is the only way."

Beckla crossed her arms over her white shirt, her expression skeptical. "I still say our surest bet is to head upward. But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look for any gates on the way."

That was close enough for Artek. "Then it's settled," he said firmly. "Darien hasn't beaten us yet. And neither has Undermountain. One way or another, we're going to get out of here."

Corin jumped excitedly. The lord had become quite caught up in Artek's stirring speech. "Oh, this is going to be positively fun!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. Т had no idea that getting lost could lead to such a marvelous adventure."

Artek bit his tongue. Corin would find out soon enough for himself that this was going to be anything but fun.

Artek had noticed earlier that there were no doors in the room-at least, none readily apparent to the casual eye. All four walls of the chamber were of solid stone, each covered with a grotesque frieze of tortured souls. But Artek was not going to believe their quest was over before it had even begun. He doubted that even a mad wizard would build a room without a door-what would be the use? Thief s instinct told him that there had to be a way out of the chamber. All they had to do was find it.

"All right, let's search the walls and floor," Artek told the others. "There has to be a hidden door in this room somewhere. Look for anything at all that stands out or seems unusual in some way."

He moved to one of the walls and began running his hand over the bas-relief carvings that covered it, searching for any seams or inconsistencies in the stone. Corin and Beckla exchanged unsure looks, then followed suit. Each pored over his or her respective wall, attempting to find any sign of a secret portal. Before long, Artek's head throbbed with concentration. The friezes made it difficult. The intricate relief carvings of writhing bodies could be obscuring something-a crack, a hole, a gap-he might otherwise see. However, there was nothing to do but keep searching.

Just when he was beginning to lose hope, Beckla let out an excited whoop. "I think I've found something, Artek! There's a thin seam around the neck of one of these carvings. I think the head is some sort of knob. It looks like it could turn."

That sounded promising. Artek hurried toward the wizard. That's good, Beckla. But don't touch it yet If the knob is a trigger for a secret door, it could be trapped. We need to check it out before we turn it."

"Oh," Beckla replied as she snatched her hand away from the carving. "Oops."

Artek halted in alarm. The last time Beckla had uttered that word, she had nearly set his hindquarters on fire. He shook his head slowly, staring at her. "Please tell me you didn't…"

Beckla grinned at him weakly. "I did."

The wizard gestured to the twisted stone figure on the wall. Its screaming head now pointed backward. Artek lunged forward, reaching out to turn the figure's head back around, but it was too late.

There was a hiss of stale air, followed by a low grating sound. The floor vibrated beneath their feet, and the three stared around the room in surprise. At first it was not apparent what was happening-until Corin voiced the truth.

"Look at the walls!" die nobleman cried. They're closing in!"

Artek swore in alarm. The young lord was right. The chamber's two long walls were slowly but inexorably moving inward. Artek gripped the figurine, turning the head back around. It was no use. The trap had been sprung, and the walls continued to close in. Artek guessed they had no more than a few minutes before the slabs met and crushed their bodies to a pulp. The open stone mouths of the writhing damned no longer seemed to be screaming, but laughing.

"Quick!" Artek shouted over the rumbling. There's got to be another trigger, one that will stop the trap!"