Since it wouldn t do to set the donjon on fire, at least not yet, Jhesrhi extinguished the streaming, hissing flare and her personal halo of flame. Cera swung her mace in an overhand arc that ended with it pointing at the doorway. The pure light of the Yellow Sun flashed in the chamber on the other side. It might not hurt a goblin or troll, but it ought to discomfit most types of undead.
Nothing cried out. The berserkers surged forward. No! Aoth barked. Vandar and I will go through first. He shot the lodge chieftain a glance. Carefully.
The berserker scowled but also nodded brusquely. As you say, he replied.
Picking their way through glowing coals and scraps of hot iron, the two men prowled into the keep. Jhesrhi strode after them and entered with the first wave of Vandar s eager lodge brothers.
She found herself in a roomy, high-ceilinged vestibule, with an arched opening leading to other chambers on that level, and a staircase twisting upward. The enemy had left footprints along with drops and smears of blood in the dust when they made their hurried retreat back into the fortress. But, except for a dead hobgoblin that had evidently succumbed to its several wounds just after staggering inside, no one was there any longer.
Vandar looked around the gloomy, echoing space. You were right, he said to Aoth. They ve gone down into the crypts like the dead things they are.
Maybe not all of them, Aoth replied. In their place, I d leave a force hidden above ground, on the upper levels of this keep, in one of the secondary towers, or wherever, to follow us down into the tunnels and attack us from behind when it would do the most harm. So we re going to sweep the castle room by room. Then it will be time to head downstairs.
The Storm of Vengeance possessed more than her fair share of spellcasters, and none of them trusted Dai Shan. Their scrutiny made it difficult to achieve privacy. But after some investigation, he d found a sort of nook in the hold, a space walled off by a bulkhead and a bundle of barrels lashed in place, that sufficed as long as he kept his voice down and didn t let anyone spot him sneaking in or out.
Unfortunately, it was cramped, filthy, and stank of spoiled foodstuffs. But Dai Shan didn t allow its unpleasantness to hasten his departure. He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, breathed slowly from the diaphragm, and considered the implications of his annoyingly curtailed conversation with Falconer.
After he had assessed them as best he could, he still had a smaller matter to ponder: how to dispose of the useless half of the little dead demon. He was tempted just to leave it where it lay and let the rats he heard scuttling elsewhere in the hold gnaw it until nothing recognizable was left. But it was possible someone would stumble across it before that happened, and then Mario Bez would want to know why there were tanar ri bones aboard his skyship.
Dai Shan preferred to not have such a possibility hanging over his head. Better to take a small risk, and afterward, enjoy the tranquility that came with knowing he d resolved the situation. That was the path his father would have chosen.
With the gloom proving no hindrance to his sight, he prowled around the hold until he found a piece of oilcloth. Permitting himself a slight frown of distaste the half-imp, or what was left of it, was even more repulsive to the touch he bundled up the slime and bones and proceeded to the deck hatch that was farther forward.
Once on the companionway, he whispered a charm that caused the grime to fall away from his person. Next came a spell to deflect the attention of any potential observer for a critical moment. Then he climbed onto the deck and lowered the hatch behind him.
Trying to seem casual, he glanced around. As far as he could tell, no one was paying any attention to him, not even Olthe, the mannish-looking battleguard, who was practicing her axe strokes just three paces away.
Wondering if the hulking creature ever chopped the rigging, and if so, whether anyone, even Bez, had the nerve to complain about it, Dai Shan sauntered to the rail. He slipped the bundle over the side, and that was that.
He celebrated the success of his maneuver by taking a moment to enjoy the view of the frozen expanse of Lake Ashane shining red in the light of the setting sun. Though he d never traveled by skyship before, it hadn t taken him long to discover that flight was a pleasure unlike any other in his experience. He felt godlike with the whole world spread out below him, and he promised himself again that, however the House of Shan ended up disposing of the rest of the wild griffons, he d keep the blue-eyed king of the pride for himself.
Unfortunately, he couldn t just stand and enjoy the view for long; there was work to be done. He turned and made his way to the stern castle, where Bez stood at the great oaken wheel. He had underlings who knew how to steer the ship, but he seemed to enjoy taking turns at the task himself.
As Dai Shan mounted the companionway, he wondered what good it did for anyone to steer when the rudder projected not into water but rather empty air. Presumably, it was part and parcel of the same magic that allowed the Storm to fly at all.
Illustrious captain, Dai Shan said.
Greedy merchant, the sellsword replied, with a leer that indicated he was indulging his notion of humor. Where have you been lurking?
A quiet corner conducive to meditation, the Shou said, where I could stay out from underfoot as your industrious crew pursued their manifold tasks.
Bez grunted and turned the wheel a notch to starboard. The correction didn t appear to require any action from the sailors in the rigging, but those manning the windlasses controlling the folding wings immediately started cranking.
That sounds like a good place for you, the sellsword commander said. But I take it you think we need to talk.
The captain is as shrewd as he is courageous, Dai Shan said. When I meditate, I sometimes find it possible to send my spirit flying free of fleshly constraints. So it was this afternoon. I scouted ahead and witnessed the Griffon Lodge already attacking the Fortress of the Half-Demon.
Bez scowled. The Maiden of Pain take you then, you son of a sow, he said. If you hadn t insisted that I come back to Immilmar to collect you, the Storm could have gotten there first. As it stands, I guess we ll just have to hope the berserkers aren t up to the job. Then we can come flying heroically onto the scene to turn defeat into victory.
Dai Shan bowed. As always, when my shrewd ally speaks, I hear wisdom, he replied. That is indeed one possibility. But, if I may be so bold, perhaps we should take care not to discount any of our options prematurely.
TWELVE
Stop, said Aoth. Ahead, where the tunnel widened out into a spacious pentagonal vault with five other corridors leading away from it, an intricate mosaic covered the floor. Hidden in the pattern, but visible to spellscarred eyes, was a pentacle glimmering with pale green phosphorescence.
I see it, too, Jhesrhi said, more or less. I ve been speaking to the stone around us. It s sick. Poisoned by the things that have been festering inside it for all these centuries. And there s what amounts to a big chancre straight ahead. It s a powerful demon, I think.
Do we know any more about it than that? Cera asked, letting her mace dangle from its martingale so she could tuck a stray blonde curl back up under her helmet.
Apparently, no one did.
I can tell you this, Aoth said, when it pops out at us, it won t be alone. Unless I miss my guess, there are other foes lurking on the far side of those arches where we can t see them. In the side passages behind us, too. The allies had tried to check and clear such potential trouble spots as they explored, but without splitting men off from his little army again and again, there was no way to keep the tunnels cleared. They were too much of a maze. Passages hooked around and linked together in unpredictable ways.