The Dark Frontier

A Moonsea Adventure

Chapter 13

Hunting Emistil

Aksana's eyes grew even wider as she watched the grievous wounds on Spielos' body close up and heal. Her eyes flicked up to his face when he whispered to her. She gave him a small lopsided smile. She reached towards him, hesitated, then brushed her finger tips lightly along one of the healed spots. It was as if she could not trust what her eyes were seeing and had to confirm it was real with a touch.
The moment her fingers touched the bard's skin a heat like fire raced down her arm. She jerked away as if she had actually been burned. For an instant she stared at her fingertips. She could still feel a slight tingle in her arm. Suddenly she realized that there were others around. She looked quickly over at the Atjets of Bane praying he had not seen her reaction. "I vill get my stuff so ve may go," she managed to stammer out before she fled the pool room. She didn't run but it took all her will power not to.
By the time she reached the main cave where their gear was stowed the tingling had subsided to only a slight warmth but it had spread to her whole body. She felt as if she had a fever. She started to wonder if she had contracted a sickness. She went straight to her own stuff without looking at or speaking to anyone else. She began to rummage through it and put things in her pack paying little attention to what she was actually doing.
Her thoughts raced through her head so quickly that she could not nail one down long enough to examine it properly. What were you thinking to dare to touch a man like that? And an outlander! There are rules, she reminded herself. There are rules for a very good reason, she stressed just in case she wasn't listening to herself. You have to stop this now, she told herself sternly.
Her hands faltered in their mindless task of stuffing her things into the pack. She felt a tightness in her chest at the thought. I can't stop it, she realized with a twinge of fear, but maybe I can hide it better. She slowed down and started packing her stuff more carefully. Of course, maybe we will all die today and then I won't have to worry about it anymore. The morbid though ironically cheered her some.

Thuarlann - predictably - had been ready to open his mouth when Spielos had volunteered. He turned his head to the white-haired man with more than a little surprise. He said nothing, though. It actually seemed a reasonable choice. Hadn't Spielos earlier spoken of being able to disrupt the concentration of a wizard with his music?
Thaurlann couldn't remember, and really didn't care. For once, it seemed, his thirst for battle had been quenched for the moment. And the thought of battling a wizard didn't particularly motivate him.
Thaurlann closed his gaping eyes and rubbed them. He felt as though his head might burst, with the constant balance between near-death and full health leaving his stomach in knots. He almost had to think for a moment whether he was still injured or not, and, looking down at his bloody arms, determined that he was.
Thaurlann watched Anya walk away with a protective stare, as if some unseen danger might still be lurking on the way back. Then finally he waved away Krel's assistance. "You need the rest more than me, I think," he said.
Thaurlann moved up the steps to prop himself against one of the doors. "Good luck to you all," he said, addressing the others. "If my sword could be of any more use to you I would gladly offer it."
Alethra stepped up behind Gannon, her fine traveling cloak somewhat marred and weathered by the last few days' adventures. Her pet emerged from under her hood, croaking sharply before receiving a treat from his master's hand.
"Do not vorry," Alethra said to the fair-haired Outlander - her melodic voice almost soothing to his ears. "He is veakened, and he vill not stand under the authority of Bane."
She bowed in deference to Gannon, Nut flapping his wings to keep balance on the unstable perch, but without leaving it. Alethra then turned away without looking at the others, walking some distance away. Unseen with her back to the others, she whispered to Nut, and the bird cawed again, this time taking flight.
"He vill not, indeed." The big man's voice rumbled, with a slight edge to it, as if surprised that anyone should need to be told that a magic using heathen demon would fall before Bane's Hammer.
"Collect yourselves and your things, then ve go. Alethra and the scout first, then Rhianna, then the gypsy and me. The demon has broken faith once already vith us. I do not seek to see him qvestioned, and I do not seek his surrender."
Rhia looked just a bit uncomfortable at Gannon's last pronouncement, but wiped the look from her face just as he glanced at her. She nodded her understanding, then moved back to the pool.
"I just want to make sure he hasn't gone anywhere..."

Rhia checked the surroundings of Emistil's hideaway, but he seemed to be on a floor where the collapse had filled whatever hallway might have been beyond his room. He was still there, still reading by the light of his torch.
It took some time for Nutwolcnum to avoid the bloodhawks and examine all the fissures in the cliff face above the caves, but eventually he pushed his way through one and found that, as suspected, it lead to the room Emistil was in. Emistil looked up as the light from the window was partially blocked, but only frowned. Maybe he didn't see Nutwolcnum.
Meanwhile, acting on a hunch, Rhia went to investigate the books in the altar, earning a startled curse from Anya, who had shed her armor and was busy bandaging her wounds in the smaller cave. The Warden set down the sword she'd snatched up and tugged on her shirt a moment before the big Banite followed Rhia in, looming over the diviner as she opened the stone altar. Anya gave them a sour look, but remained silent, waiting for them to leave.
Rhia went through the books they had found, looking for Emistil's spellbook in the dim light of the brazier, but to no avail. None of the books appeared to be tomes of magic.

Alethra waited patiently as Rhia looked in the pool, left the crypt to check the altar again, and finally returned. Whenever Rhia studied the pool, Alethra was always behind her, watching the waters shift and swirl in their unnatural fashion. When Rhia left, Alethra's stood stoically in the center of the room, her eyes lost under the shadows of her hood, hiding the direction of her gaze.
At last, Nut returned, croaking his report softly into Alethra's ears. The elf's lips pursed slightly. "I have found him," she pronounced suddenly. She walked over to Gannon and bowed. "Master, I now know vith certainty vhere he is. But, as Rhia vill tell you, there is no easy vay in or out."
Alethra turned to look at Rhia. "Do you have any more - brews - such as the vons you used before? To make von fly, become smaller, or shoot a perfect bowshot through the vindow?" After a breath, she added "Of course, I could send von of my other pets through the vindow for him."
The thought gave her a momentary rush of pleasure, much as she struggled to fight it down. To take pleasure in another's pain was not the way she had been taught by the Sharrans. She could accept the fact that he must die for his betrayal, but it was not the reason why she wanted to be the one to kill him.
A thoughtful look slowly replaced the frustrated frown on Rhia's face as she considered Alethra's questions.
"I have a few tricks left today. I could Weave a spell of accuracy, but it wouldn't guarantee a fatal strike - it wouldn't guarantee anything, really, as random chance is always a factor - but it would be the closest thing to a guarantee we can get. The issue is getting in there-"
Rhia stopped, looking pole-axed. She looked to make sure Gannon was occupied with a sell-spear, then gestured for Alethra to follow her. Rhia led the way to her saddlebags, and riffled through them quickly. She produced several small glass vials. Two of them she handed to Alethra.
"These will turn the drinker into a form of intelligent gas. If it's not too windy outside, someone could possibly float to, and through, the window, and ambush Emistil from inside." She bit her lip. "I don't know how long they'll last though, or if the condition is one that can be willingly dismissed. If it lasted long enough, it might almost be safer to try to force our way through the cave-in and up to the room. No wind, and it's harder to keep gas out than a full-sized person." Rhia shrugged. "But if it were to run out before we get through the rocks..." She trailed off with a wince.
After a few moments, Rhia pointed out a few more of her little vials.
"Worst-case scenario, we lower someone on a rope, I Weave accuracy upon them, and they fire arrows dipped in this." She indicated one vial. "Not magical, but potentially deadly." Rhia lifted another. "This one makes a person difficult, if not impossible to see, though it doesn't affect noise."
She sighed.
"Aside from the Dissolution, and the idea of lowering someone on a rope - maybe after soaking them in the Subluminal Refraction solution - and letting them take a shot or two with poisoned arrows, I'm pretty-much out of ideas. Getting someone up that cliff, and fighting off those birds again, that could take a while, and be dangerous. I think sending two people up the cliff, in the form of intelligent gas, and into the window, would be the safest route. Unless you and I can find a way through the rockfall, which would shelter the gasses from any wind."
Rhia gave Alethra a questioning look.
"What do you think?"
Alethra pondered as Rhia spoke. She could understand why the witch wanted to distance herself from Gannon before she spoke. The atjets had a strong enough faith in the gods to believe in certain miracles, but she wasn't sure turning into a cloud of gas was one of them.
"I think the creatures, they vould be safer," Alethra said. "I can summon them from a distance, although I vould need to get relatively close to the vindow. Vhile my creatures distract him, we send down our archers by rope to shoot at him through the hole vith the poison arrows."
She looked away as she spoke, as if speaking the plan more for her own benefit than for Rhia's. As if suddenly noticing her, she turned to the other maga and bowed her head. "Of course, if you think this prudent. I still hold enough sway over the shadows to bring forth several more of its denizens against the rogue."
Rhia nodded, but frowned. "The only issue I see with that is the reality that to lower someone down, we're going to have to climb the cliff again, and if that's a book of Weavings, Emistil will have time to ready himself for us. That window is a little too narrow for anyone to get through, which means you'll have to summon your creatures inside the room already. I'm guessing you'd have to be pretty close to the window for that, which would probably alert Emistil. Also, how good are you at Weaving spells while bloodhawks are pecking at you?"
Alethra leaned forward. "It depends on the size of the creatures," she protested. "And, my concentration is complete, vith or vithout distraction." She kept her voice low,but it had a defensive tone to it that could not be hidden.
After a pause, Alethra backed away. "The veather is foggy, so the vind may be calm enough to let your potions vork. And if ve only have ten minutes, ve should go in throuth the vindows, since ve do not know how thick the rocks are between here and there. I am fairly certain the recipient should be able to dismiss the effects of the spell on their own."
Alethra looked over to Gannon. "I vill do as my master commands, but ve cannot delay any longer." The elf brought her voice back to its normal, lilting tone. "Come, ve will present him vith your plan."

Spielos watched Aksana go. He was still a bit surprised by the effects of the potion. Magic, he had decided, was delicious. Of course, magic might also cause him to wind up in irons, if the things he had heard before proved true. Perhaps cold steel was the best way, after all.
He turned to Gannon. "Will we be climbing down the cliff, or do we have other plans?
The Banite frowned. The gypsy was very forward, and it often seemed that he failed to remember his place. Still, vhat is to be expected from an Outlander, Gannon asked himself, especially one brave enough to spend so long here, hunting bandits, amongst the Faithful? A brief look of...something not completely disapproving... passed Gannon's face, and he shook his head at Spielos.
"I do not know. The maga, she says she knows vhere the demon is hiding, and how best to get to it. Ve vill - " He cut off as Rhia and Alethra entered the room, small glass vials in hand.
"I think we have a plan in place. It's dangerous, but will take less time than climbing up the cliffs again." She indicated the vials in her hand. "These potions will, as far as I can tell, allow two of us to turn into sentient clouds of gas. As such, we should be able to will our way up the side of the cliff and into the window, where we can will ourselves into physical form again, and hit Emistil before he knows we're there. Hopefully, he doesn't have any more tricks of teleportation up his sleeve, and he won't be able to escape." She hesitated, then continued.
"Of course, there are drawbacks. The first is that we have only two potions, so only two of us can go up that way. Second, once those who do go have willed themselves back to physical form, they can't turn back, which leaves us with the problem of getting them down." Rhia shrugged. "We could send just one person up, and let them drink the second mixture when they're ready to come back down, but that's probably too great a risk against Emistil. I think the window could be widened with a shovel or pick, given enough time, so if those going up take a hundred feet or so of rope with them, they could probably climb down..." Rhia shrugged once more. "Or, we can go up the old fashioned way, hope the bloodhawks don't get us, or that the hours it takes don't give Emistil a chance to get away, or prepare for us, and then... I don't know, lower someone on a rope to shoot the bastard through the window with a poisoned arrow. Of course, that leaves us with the task of getting the book out afterward."
Suddenly the maga slapped her forehead with her empty hand.
"Of course, to teleport there, he had to have been there before, right?" At Gannon's puzzled glare, Rhia hurried on. "Right. And he was waiting for us at the top of the cliff. I wonder if there's an entrance up there."
Gannon's frowning glare of frustration would likely have pulverized rock, but it slid off Rhia like a gentle breeze. He glared harder. Still no effect that he could discern.
"Bah! You have no plan at all! Only mad speculation and half-formed ideas. You," he looked at Alethra, "does she know vhat she speaks of or not?"
Alethra hesitated before replying, focusing her thoughts before she spoke. Her master did not care for the subtleties of magic and needed a direct answer. "She speaks true, that von must see a place before using magic to carry themselves there, but it vould still take time for us to find the other entrance he might have used before, especially since ve cannot see it through the pool."
She paused before continuing, trying to gauge how much detail the atjets needed to make up his mind.
"Essentially ve have two choices: Von, use the potions to send two of us through the vindow and pray that ve are successful. This is the quickest route. Two, ve all climb back up the cliff and either find the vay the rogue used to get down, or else climb down on ropes. This is potentially safer but gives him time to prepare or escape."
The realization that the magas didn't actually have a plan in place irritated the giant baneite, but there was little he could do about it. Except do as I have been Chosen to do, and make use of the tools He has put into my fist.
It took some time as Gannon thought his way through things, but when he finally spoke, his voice was firm. "Time, it is of the essence. Ve have vasted enough of it already. Still, ve do not vish to send less than effective forces to do the job. Ve vill do this then: Von of the magas vill remain here, vith someone who can use a svord vithout hurting themselves. The maga vill use the pool to vatch the demon, vhile the rest of us climb the hill. When ve are in position, ve vill attack from both directions. If the demon, it looks to be preparing for us, or to leave, those vith the...potions... they vill attack vithout us."
He looked around. "So, vich of us vill stay, and vich of us vill go?"
Rhia looked thoughtful, and raised her hand. When Gannon nodded to her, she spoke. "I still have the ability to counter any Weaving he might attempt, and the ability to improve the accuracy of an attacker, but little direct offensive power. Alethra would be the better choice to go after Emistil if we think raw combat power would prove best, but if he's prepared to run, and he can still teleport, he'll get away from her. Ah, also, I have the ability to watch the climbing group, and see when they are in position. Alethra would be... less effective in that role, I think."
Gannon frowned, looking to Alethra. "This assessment, it is correct?"
Alethra took Gannon's glare far less stoically than Rhia did. Her eyes shifted to the floor, then back up just far enough to acknowledge his voice, without challenging his stare with her eyes.
What Alethra took as a subtle criticism of her abilities by Rhia did not go unnoticed by the elf, but she felt less inclined to challenge it this time.
"I vould be better equipped to handle the rogue," she boldly claimed. "Though I am a little tired, I have more than enough strength left for some rather vicious - summonings, by Bane's blessing. I can leave my pet with the other maga so she can send vord to us if she sees something go awry."
Alethra's eyes glimmered in the everpresent light of the pool chamber, showing an undiscernable emotion from the elf.
Rhia frowned. Apparently something she'd said had struck a nerve with the elf mage. She decided to clarify, but was cut off by Gannon.
"Very vell. Rhianna vill remain here, vith the bird. They vill vatch the demon in the pool, and send the bird to varn us if anything happens. I think the Varden, she should remian here as vell, as she is the most injured of us. If all goes vell, she can rest before the battle. If it goes...unexpectedly, I know she is fierce enough to kill the demon, vhile Rhianna prevents it from escaping."
Rhia blinked, then nodded.
"And Alethra can summon shadow creatures to help protect you against any bloodhawks, and she can send creatures into the room from above, if you find the pathway he used to get there. Her talents in a stand-up fight exceed my own."
Gannon frowned at her, perhaps wondering why she would still be talking, since he had decided the matter. Then, looking as if he'd forgotten something, he turned to Anya.
"This plan, do you agree to it, Varden?"
Rolling his eyes at the underhanded insult, Spielos gathered up the gear he thought he'd need on the sortie. It was amazing to him that everyone just put up with his shit. Strange lands, strange people, he thought, but I'm still here, so maybe I'm the strange one.
Anya, now heavily bandaged but in clean clothes, took the insult without a change in expression. "Rhia and I, ve stay by the pool, vhile the rest of you climb the ridge and lower yourselves on ropes and use Rhia's drinks?" She looked at Rhia, frowning a little. "How vill you stop the mag from doing anything from here?"
She nodded towards Thaurlann, whom Krel was slowly bandaging now that the sellspear Brahm had been seen to. "Vhat of him? He is no more fit to fight than I am. He should stay as vell. And that von..." She indicated Aksana with a tip of her chin, as though raising her arm to point was too much effort. "If you vant to shoot in the vindow, she has a handbow. Maybe she is the marksman you need."

Spielos turned to Aksana as he checked his rapier and motioned her closer. Speaking very softly into her hear, he said, <"If I die, there is money enough in my clothes and pack to get you out of here, if you choose to take that option.">
Without waiting for a reply, he turned away from her and slapped his drum. "Shall we begin climbing, then?" he asked nobody in particular.
Aksana stared at the bard as he walked away. She didn't know what to make of his statement. She wondered what plan Gannon had chosen that made Spielos believe he might die. Then she shook her head; he had nearly died several times in the last few days, it was no wonder. Her face hardened as she resolved not to let it happen; not if she could help it. She would not let her own cowardice be the cause of the outlander's death. Besides, where would she go on her own? This was the only home she had known. She knew herself well enough to know that she would probably slink back to the church and try to forget all of the silly fantasies that the strange bard called up in her head. Silently she picked up her pack and followed the others outside.

There was little wind as they made their way along the lake, then doubled back to climb the ridges once more. The fog rolling over the hills around them shielded them from the bloodhawks, though strange noises occasionally broke the quiet, once with the distant sound of a woman screaming, short and sharp. It was easier going without the horses, but they had to backtrack often on the treacherous trail without Anya there to guide them, and it was late in the afternoon before they scrambled up the loose scree of the slope where they had encountered Emistil.
The cliff's edge wasn't far beyond the steep slope, a number of small boulders lined along it suggesting where the opening of the caves below lay. The ground by the caves was hidden in the fog, but they caught occasional glimpses of the lake far below, a dull gray slate surrounded by looming hills.
A cursory search turned up no obvious entrance to the ruined complex that lay within the cliff.
"Well, nobody said it would be easy," Speilos commented after their quick search turned up nothing. "We will have to do it the hard way."
The gypsy dropped his pack and began to walk in slow, tight circles. He prodded the ground and examined the larger stones for any hidden entrances.
Aksana dropped her pack near the gypsy's and walked to the cliff's edge. Cautiously she peered over trying to see where the window the witches talked of was. She studied the rocks for any likely way down in case they had to scale the cliff.
Alethra began humming suddenly. The noise started soft and pleasant, and bubbled up around her until it became a quiet chant. It mimicked a children's lullaby, emphasized by her melodic voice. Even with the sweet melody, though, a dark undercurrent seemed to run underneath the words, as if they were echoing in a dark cave.

"Oh, little, little shadow
I see you on the vall
How gloomy you seem there
Doing nothing at all
But as I move toward you
I see you shrink away
Oh little, little shadow
Please come back and play
Please bring back your secrets
From vherever you are
Show me vhat you see
From near and from far."

Alethra continued to chant the tune under her breath as she walked around the boulders, joining the others in their search.
Without Nutwolcnum there to identify the specific rift that hid the window, it seemed impossible for Aksana to locate the correct spot. A light fog cloaked the ground far below, making it easy to imagine that the cliff was much higher, higher than the clouds. The occasional cry of a bloodhawk seemed to emphasize the illusion; they circled high above, watching.
Spielos and Alethra had better luck, following the dim, darting shadows. A long search finally turned up what might have been a doorway once, some distance from where they had begun their seeking. Spiky brush had grown up before the dirt-choked opening at the end of a little gully, only the regularity of the visible upper stone sides giving away that it was anything but a mere hole in the ground. Had the budding bushes been fully leafed, the empty doorway would have been invisible behind them. A sort of tunnel led through the bushes at their base, but it was apparent that no one of human size had forced their way past the thorny growth. When seen from the top of the gully, the dirt in the half-filled doorway was marked with the tracks of some kind of animal.
Gannon followed the searching duo, and looked over their shoulders at the discovery.
"It does not look like the demon, he vent through here." He glowered at the offending dirt pile. "Unless the animal tracks, they are some illusion." Looking over his own shoulder, back at the scout, Gannon raised his voice.
"Scout! You vill come and look at this. Vhat tracks are these?" The big Banite looked at Alethra and spoke quietly. "If, for some reason, she is unable to tell us vhat animal made these tracks, you vill check to see if it is hidden by magics. If vhat you and the Outlander maga say is true, the demon, it may have hidden the means of its coming and going."
Gannon had no doubts that Alethra's magics would be required. Even if the scout girl could tell what animal those tracks might belong to, there was no guarantee they had actually been made by an animal. Still, he looked about, searching for any living creatures nearby. Besides the circling hawks and the occasional cry of a wolf, nothing presented itself.
Aksana flinched when the Banite called her. There will be little surprise for the demon at this rate, she thought sourly to herself. She walked over and observed the area the others were looking at. She had no idea of what she was looking at but made a great show of carefull study. "I am sorry Atjets, these tracks I do not know." She continued to study the area, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Right! Down we go then." Without waiting for anyone to respond, Spielos started down the tunnel. "If we do this right, we will be back in time for dinner."
With much effort, Spielos managed to belly his way through the narrow tunnel, though not without suffering from the grasping thorns on the way. When he reached the opening, he found that the dirt inside sloped down for several paces. Half-crawling, half-sliding down the damp earth headfirst, his dagger out and ready, he found that the second tunnel opened up into a larger, dark space where he was able to stand, his head bumping the even ceiling. The fetid smell of some animal hung thick in the air, and a warning growl sounded nearby, getting more insistent by the moment.
Spielos quickly got his back to a wall, switched his dagger to his off hand and drew his rapier. He stilled himself and listened for movement. There were definitely several animals in the buried room, and the shuffle and scrape of the dirt betrayed them to him. Snuffles and grunts headed his way, but there was a sudden scrabble as the one growling ran at him.
Spielos turned towards the sound and braced his rapier on the wall, angling it so the charging beast impaled itself on it. The animal squealed as its weight weighed down Spielos' rapier, the dagger in his free hand pounding into a thrashing furred body until it stilled. Other snarls rumbled from around him, and he felt something nip at his legs in the dark.

The large Baneite's eyes narrowed at the sounds of combat, and he growled under his breath. One look at the dirt-choked tunnel made it clear he wasn't getting through there in his armor. Not quickly enough to be of use, anyway. His eyes flicked to the smallest amongst them, and he removed a gauntlet, before bringing his bare hand on Aksana's shoulder.
"The Gypsy, he is impetuous, and foolhardy. He is a blasphemer and an outlander. He is also brave, and in need of aid. Go to him. Take vith you Bane's blessing, and fight vell." At his words, a flicker of warmth spread through her, radiating from his hand. With the warmth came also a faint surge of... anger?... determination?... something.
"Get her a torch."
Listening to the sounds coming out of the hole Aksana had nearly been ready to crawl in when the Atjets touched her shoulder. She looked at him surprised that he would have any sympathy, however slight, for Spielos. Determination in her eyes she nodded at him as she waited for the torch.
Impatient at the time lost waiting she scrabbled her way into the tunnel ignoring the sting of thorns and the taste of dirt in her mouth. Clutching a dagger in one hand she pushed the torch before her with the other.

Fantastic, Spielos thought, a whole pack of them. He booted at the one closest to him and then levered himself up on his rapier, putting his feet on the wall and suspending himself in the air.
Maybe they can't jump, he hoped. We should have stuffed Gannon down here first.
"Can I get a bit of help," he yelled up the tunnel, "Maybe a torch or a mage or at least a proper burial?"
Fear coursed through Aksana's body. "I am coming," she called. Just do not die, she added silently to herself. She increased her efforts to wiggle down the hole. Thorns snatched at her from every side, tearing at her hair and leaving long scratches on her pale skin, but she pushed on heedlessly, hurrying to reach Spielos. It was a little easier for her than it had been for him, what with her smaller frame.
Tearing loose of the thornbushes at last, she scrambled down the hole to find the bard surrounded by badgers, with one lying dead at his feet, its mouth still open in a silent snarl. Spielos was trying to keep himself suspended on his blade, but it had sunk a little into the earth, and the badgers were harassing him on their hind legs. Beyond them tiny heads poked up from a depression in the dirt floor, little eyes gleaming in the sudden light.
Two of the four badgers broke away from Spielos to face the new threat, looking quite large from Aksana's vantage near the floor as they rushed at her.

Two of the four badgers broke away from Spielos to face the new threat, looking quite large from Aksana's vantage near the floor as they rushed at her.
Aksana waved the torch frantically at the charging animals, hoping that they shared her fear of flames. She used her other hand, the one holding her dagger unfortunately, to lever herself up trying to get her face away from the very sharp looking teeth coming her way. They were too fast for her, dodging around the waving torch to scratch at her with their long claws as she scrambled to her feet.
The light helped a great deal. It was easy to assume badgers were, for example, some hideous monstrosity from the depths of hell.
"Aha!" Spielos yelled, "Badgers and not some three-headed, drooling, two-assed, horned monstrosity!" He pushed off from the wall, did a tumble and repositioned himself into a fighting stance. Wasting no time once he had his balance, he attacked the nearest badger. Stung by his blade, it squealed, but rather than backing off it flew at him with even more ferocity, its fellow quick to follow its example. One of them grabbed hold of his boot and savaged it while the other leapt at his legs. The two kept him busy for a bit before he managed to pierce the more fierce of them through the eye.
After her initial tussle with the badgers Aksana fared better, swinging her torch defensively while the two moved to flank her. They darted in now and again to bite and scratch, but with little luck as they scrambled away from the flames she struck at them with.
Aksana felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of having to kill the badgers but she was pretty sure that the angry animals would not let them retreat gracefully. One quick glance at Spielos finishing off one of the badgers and she threw her reservations out and pressed the attack. Her dagger flashed in the torchlight as she sidestepped the animals to try and get closer to Spielos.
Spielos felt no qualms about killing the badgers. *Suckers bit my boots,* he thought. *I like these boots!* His rapier flashed out towards the nearest critter. "Is anyone else coming down?" he asked Aksana. "They might still think we are under a more serious attack, and this might have ruined our chances of surprising Emistil."
The ferocity of the badgers' attempt to drive them from their den was impressive, and they were surprisingly quick to dodge blows. They tore into Spielos, while Aksana was mostly able to keep them at bay with her torch, slashing at their muzzles when they came too close. Spielos made short work of the last one savaging his leg, slitting its throat when it refused to let go. He turned to aid Aksana, but was slowed by the pain of his wounds, and the badger he'd stabbed at whirled on him, long claws first.
Spielos' plea for help broke Alethra out of a daze. For some reason, she thought that they would dispatch the small animals in a hurry, and her mind had drifted to other things. But a full minute had passed, and she had done nothing to lend aid.
With more hurry than she usually employed, her voice began intoning the dark words of power that touched the shadow world and commanded its denizens to follow her command. In the long shadows of the early evening, it was difficult to tell where the shadows ended and the form of the summoned creature began. Anyone looking directly in that spot, though, could definitely see movement down into the den. Three forms slid past the thorns, eerily quick, and disappeared down the throat of the den.

Aksana was dismayed by how fierce the little animals were. She couldn't blame them but a glance at how chewed up Spielos was becoming assured her that there was little choice now. Continuing to dodge away from the sharp teeth the one after her she reached over and slashed at the one going after the gypsy. Between the two of them they were finally able to put it down, though Spielos paid the cost of it with his savaged legs, blood darkening his trousers and spilling down his worried boots. He spitted the last adult badger while it cringed from Aksana's fire, but it rounded on him even with blood from its punctured lung drooling from its mouth, lunging at its tormentor.
The mouth of the den darkened briefly, then several shapes darted in from the shadows to attack the last badger, dragging it off of the heavily bleeding bard and surrounding it. One pounced and caught it by the throat, an audible crunch signalling the end of its defiance. It jerked spasmodically, claws twitching, its growl dying. As the inky-black doglike thing shook it viciously, the other two turned on the young, pushing them back into the depression in the floor, and pained squeals filled the little chamber.
Aksana cringed away from the shadowy creatures. She had seen enough of Alethra's foul magic to know they were likely the demon's beasts. Knowing they would not hurt her did not change her wanting to stay as far from them as possible. The sounds of the young badgers dying made her sick to her stomach and she turned away.
Without distractions, the light of Aksana's torch revealed a fifteen-foot diameter room, earth spilling from the entrance to cover the floor. Half-submerged in the dirt were two suits of armor identical to that of the undead warriors the group had encountered in the tomb far below, the broken yellowed skulls still visible within their helmets. At the back of the room was the depression the baby badgers were in, which proved to be the top of a staircase, choked with rubble from a few feet down where the walls had collapsed inwards and covered with dirt and what looked like generations of badger nests.
However Emistil had gained access to the ruins beneath, it clearly hadn't been by coming through here.

*I can't believe those little shits did this to me,* Spielos thought as he sat down heavily and began to try and bandage his legs with his shirt and shredded pants. *The worst part about injuries like this is that you're still awake to feel how bad they are.*
"Help me with the bandages," he said through gritted teeth. "It won't be long before I pass out from the bleeding."
Appalled that she had neglected to aid her companion Aksana quickly knelt at his side and began helping him to dress his wounds. Her face was still pale from the carnage behind them but her hands were sure and steady. "Never do I know vhat you vill get into next," she joked trying to ignore the last of the pathetic whimpers.
Spielos seemed unfazed by the carnage just a few feet away, and didn't notice Aksana's discomfort. His attention was held by his mangled leg. "Neither do I," he quipped. "I hope it is not as painful as a cave of belligerent badgers, though."
Spielos looked around. "I should get to the surface. I have no desire to bleed to death in a smelly cave." He flashed a grin at Aksana. "You might have to help me, I am not sure how well I can use this leg, yet."
Wincing with the effort, he began to crawl back up the tight dirt passage towards the surface.
"Wait," Aksana stopped the bard just before he wiggled into the tunnel leading to the surface, "take this." She handed him the torch. "I'm likely to burn you with it if I keep it." After he crawled in and the light faded she rubbed her arms in the dark; it suddenly seemed colder than she knew it was. It seemed like ages before his feet were far enough ahead of her to follow.
When they reached the surface she spit dirt out of her mouth. "You," she pointed at the gypsy before he could do anything rash, "sit down and let us clean those wounds." Her own bites ached but she could clearly tell that his were worse. She was in no mood to be arguing and her tone of voice showed it. She rummaged out the strips of ruined shirt left over from the last time she bandaged him. "You are going to need more clothes at this rate," she said a bit more lightly.
As she worked she spoke to whomever cared to listen. "There vas little down there but angry badgers. It vas vonce a door but that vas long ago, it vill not serve us now."
Spielos looked at Gannon. "Unless you brought that potion I heard you talking about down at camp."
Alethra made a motion with her hands to return the summoned creatures to their natural plan of existence, and a soft rush of wind seemed to blow by Spielos and Aksana from the tunnel.
Alethra waited to see whether her master would respond to the gypsy, but her mind was elsewhere.
Gannon grunted, frowning. "You vere so badly injured by rodents?" He shook his head. "I have no more of the maga's concoctions. It vould be vise of you to preserve your strength to face the demon."
Alethra turned to the others. "Since the others have not sent vord, we can assume the rogue has not moved by now; ve should be safe in approaching by rope. Those of us who are strong enough to climb can go towards him, vhile I summon creatures to distract him. But ve might have trouble finding the exact vindow." She frowned
"Regardless, we should start looking for something to tether the rope to." She paused, looking at Spielos again, then looking at Gannon. "If you feel this is a prudent course of action, of course, master," she said with a quick bow.
*She has been speaking more of late.* Gannon gave Alethra a thoughtful look. "This plan, it is all the plan that we have. Do vhat ve must."

A suitable tree, stunted and twisted though it was, was found not far from the cliff's edge, and with Aksana's help Alethra's hundred feet of rope was expertly tied to allow both ends to dangle over the side of the cliff. Even as the ends slithered down, Nutwolcnum sped out of the cave complex below, rising to circle at a point just beside the cliff, clearly indicating where they were to climb. After a few moments the raven swooped back down to return to Rhia, his task completed.

Rhia was still watching the wavering pool surface when Nutwolcnum returned to perch high on the rubble in the corner of the room, blending with the shadows. The view had returned to Emistil, who had spent the day resting and reading his mangled book. As the day grew darker he had begun shooting glances at the window, as though to judge the time. Other than that he hadn't moved, other than to relieve himself. Little did he know the fury that was about to descend upon him.
Watching from her seat by the side of the pool, Anya looked up at Rhia. "The others, they move against him now. If ve are to go, ve must go soon. Vill you take me, or the ou- ...or Thaurlann?"
Rhia looked up and gave Anya an appraising look. "Are you sure you're up for it? Both you and Thaurlann look pretty rough. We could probably make this work with just me going up."
Thaurlann stood up suddenly at the mention of his name by Anya, though the rush of blood to his injuries made him pay for the action. He started to interject, but hesitated. His mouth opened again to speak, but stopped before uttering a sound. He found himself torn for a moment between serving the greater good; and his own selfish desire for Anya's safety and his fear of magic.
Still, the elf was cornered and the help of either of the two grievously-wounded fighters would do little to help. *Especially not turned into a harmless cloud of gas* he reasoned.
"We - she -" Thaurlann stuttered, uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "If you can take him alone, then do so, with Bane's blessing. There is no need to risk An - the lady - the Warden's life, and I am no use against an elf in my current state."
Thaurlann suddenly looked over at the atjets, collapsed from his efforts; and Brahm, now sleeping off the exhaustion of the battle. If Rhia left he'd be alone with Anya, and the thought for some reason terrified him more than the thought of facing a wizard-elf. He stood paralyzed, unable to move except to shift his eyes back over to Rhia in wait of a response.
Anya frowned, but it didn't seem directed at Thaurlann - rather it was a pensive look, and she spoke slowly. "It is very vell to pit magic against magic, but a good blade at your back cannot hurt. Vhile Emistil vas not among... I do not care about his death so much as Mandrake's-" She spat the name, as always, "-I vill not stand idly by vhile a friend stands against him alone." She reached out to clasp Rhia's arm in a warrior's handshake, though the motion made her eyes tighten from the pain of her wounds. "I vill go vith you into the lair of the snake. Let us go."
Tharlann felt a sudden pit of shame grow inside his chest. Or perhaps it was jealousy at the closeness of the two women's friendship, while he had probably just lost Anya's respect. "Wait!" he cried, walking forward to her at his best speed considering his injuries. "I would not keep you from helping your friend, but you must at least bring this with you."
He reached into his pouch and produced the same silver horseshoe that he had hurled at Mandrake. "For protection," Thaurlann added as he handed it over to her. After a pause, he said, "Now go! I will pray to Bane for your safe return."
An involuntary twitch had run through her at Thaurlann's loud call, her hand half-raised in defense as she turned to find him bearing down on her. She steeled herself immediately, face going blank as she re-took the step she had surrendered back towards the wall. The expression faltered, though, when she was presented with his gift; she extended her hand to receive it, her grey eyes puzzled. For a moment it seemed she would speak as she weighed it in her hand. Instead she nodded, staring at him as though to memorize his face. She tucked the horseshoe into her own belt pouch, then turned and limped into the crypt without another word.
Rhia gave Anya a few moments to recover herself, then nodded. She led Anya to the mouth of the cave, then turned and handed the Warden a small glass vial. "Draw your weapon, then drink the solution. We'll turn to gas. As gas, we will be unable to speak, or act, other than to will ourselves to move, and to become solid again. Be wary of wind. I don't think it can harm us, but it could blow us away. Try to keep close to the cliff wall. We'll try to get behind the elf before we re-solidify. Questions?"
Anya eyed the vial in her hand dubiously. "Only von. How do ve get out of the snake's lair again? This solution, you have more?"
"Ah, no. We're going to have to work that part out later. Emistil got in and out of there somehow, right?" Rhia gave Anya a (she hoped) encouraging face.

After Aksana secured the rope she retreated back from the edge and stood watching the others. She did not want to go down that rope but looking at the others she realized that she was one of the most logical ones to do it. Had Spielos not be injured so badly he may have done it. In fact she was sure he would have done it, for all she knew he might still jump up and try.
She flexed her leg where the badgers had scratched and bit at her. It was sore and she was sure that it would hurt even more tomorrow but she felt confident that she would be fine using it. She wished that she felt as sure about everything else. Her life seemed to be in a constant state of chaos lately. All of her beliefs had been challenged and had been found weak.
Her gaze slid over to the main source of her conflicts. Even now she could feel a slight tug when she looked at him. She gritted her teeth in an effort not to show any emotion on her face. She wanted to go to him and talk to him; tell him that if they survived, which she was starting to doubt, she would gladly travel back to his home with him. But she feared her body's reaction to him even more.
She sighed heavily and resigned herself to what was to come. She pulled out her crossbow and double checked everything to make sure it would work when she needed it. She also checked her knives, making sure they slid freely from their sheaths in case she needed a backup. By concentrating on her equipment she was able to distract herself from thinking about matters best left alone as she waited for the big Banite to order her down the rope.
Gannon grunted, looking over the edge, rope in one hand. "Long vay down," he muttered, "vhere is that cursed vitch?"
Alethra's ears tingled at the atjets' call, though she realized he wasn't speaking about her. The reaction nevertheless shook her, and she became suddenly aware of how boldly she has spoken a few minutes ago.
Alethra meekly walked back over to the edge of the cliff, keeping one eye on the knot of rope. Aksana certainly showed skill in securing the rope, but Alethra would not trust the safety of her master to others if she could help it.
"Master, I am prepared to summon aid to you vhenever you are ready. Just tell me vhen." Alethra kept her head bowed as she spoke to Gannon, almost apologetic in her tone.
"There! That haze, is that the maga?" Gannon pointed down the side of the cliff, at something that could be a mist, or cloud, slowly making its way up the cliffside towards the opening that they believed led to the rogue elf's hiding spot. "Ready yourselves, for soon ve go to battle!"
Gannon's words sent a thrill of terror through Aksana's body. She scooted closer to the edge so she could look over. She wasn't sure she saw anything or not but it didn't matter, only what the Banite thought he saw mattered.
Spielos tried to stand up, but his leg wobbled and he felt light headed. "Do not wait for me," he advised through gritted teeth, "I am not sure I can make it down the rope. I will wait here." He cursed under his breath. Killing the elf would have earned him some status with the locals, but he was too hurt to be of any use now.
"Stupid badgers," he spat, slapping the rock hard as he sat down.
Spielos' attempt to stand drew Aksana's attention and her lips twitched with a surpressed smile. Yes, she had been sure he would at least try to get up. Her smile faded into a frown as he sat back down. He was hurt much worse than she had thought. At least up here he would likely live through the coming encounter. And if she and the Atjets of Bane perished he would be free to flee back to his homeland.
With that small, grim thought to cheer her she prepared to climb down the rope.

The haze Gannon had spotted rose excruciatingly slowly, but there was no wind to push it from its course, and soon it resolved itself into two vaguely humanoid forms "climbing" their way up the cliff face, one tendril of mist at a time. With Gannon and Aksana hanging to either side of the crevice, the eerie haze of Anya and Rhia slipped into the narrow opening with no trouble. Above, Alethra began the chant that would summon creatures from the shadows.
Inside, Emistil still pored over his tattered book, frowning at the torn pages by the light of his undimmed torch. He sat with his back to the side wall; the hazes drifted past above him, settling on his far side.
Outside, something blocked the window, scrabbling at the dirt around it. Emistil looked up at the noise, rising with a look of disbelief as he set his book aside. "What in Baator is this?" His lips quirked up in that familiar smile as he drew his sword.
Silently, Rhia willed herself into solidity, the words of a Weaving ready on her lips. Anya settled to the ground beside her a moment later, and suddenly there were two blades at the elf's back.

Aksana frowned as the sorcerous birds scrambled past her into the window. Once they were clear she tried to position herself so that she would have a clear shot at the demon. *This is a really bad idea,* she thought to herself.
The birds began to move more rapidly, so quickly that each one of them seemed to be two or three flying in at the same time. They all struggled their way through the small window and flocked towards the surprised elf.
"Fire," Alethra whispered. "Ignore the birds." The very rocks - or perhaps just the shadows they cast - echoed into Gannon and Aksana's ears.
Aksana started and nearly lost her grip on the rope she clung to when Alethra's voice cut into her mind. *Foul witch,* she cursed the she- demon in her head, *Bane take you.* Recovering her grip she leveled her small crossbow at the demon trapped within the room. She had been a tiny bit curious about Emistil and was still sure that he knew something about her sister but the time for her to be able to question him had slipped past. She took the fear she felt of Alethra and the frustration at having to kill what might be a clue to her sister's whereabouts and focused it on Emistil, attempting to use it to make herself cold and precise in the execution of her job.
When she fired, she was rewarded with a grunt of pain from the elf despite the flurry of dark feathers around him. Inside, Anya moved to stick him with her sword, but in his thrashing at the birds he twisted aside in time to avoid her. His eyes widened as he realized there were more than just birds in his secret hideaway. "Stop!" he cried out, stepping away from the window opening. He raised his free hand as if it were a shield to ward them away, holding his sword ready. His smile had abandoned him, and he scowled at Rhia.
"I see breaking your oath to me wasn't enough, she-devil. What evil spurs you to drive me from even this poor sanctuary? If it is mere greed, then take the book and be damned. Let me be!"

Aksana felt no satisfaction when her bolt struck true. She remained emotionally distant; it was the only way she could continue. She really wanted to be in the room but could see no way in. Anything would be better than dangling here with such a dizzying drop below her. She had heard the witch telling them that there was no visible way in but until she saw it herself she had not really believed it. *How in Shar's name did he get in there,* she wondered. *There has to be something.* She clung as close to the narrow window as she could trying to see into the room better. She wondered vaguely what oath the demon spoke of. Had the witch tried to betray them?
The elf's pleas for mercy went unheeded by the birds summoned by Alethra - they continued their assault. This time, rather than just distracting him, they were now seeking exposed bits of flesh on which to place their tiny beaks. Emistil batted at them with his sword, but there were too many to fend them all off.
"Broke what oath, Elf?" Rhia's voice was cold, detached curiousity. "I made no oaths. Besides," Rhia's voice hardened to an edge sharper than the steel she wielded, "you broke my soul." She didn't wait to finish the word before the blade reached out to finish him.
Emistil parried her expertly, hindered though he was by the fluttering wings of the shadow-hawks all around him. "Soul? What rubbish are you talking about? You promised me my freedom if I told you what I knew! You said you would aid me!" he hissed. His tone changed to one of pleading. "Let me be, and I will teach you magic the likes of which you've never seen before, tell you secrets that only I know. I swear it before the Gods. Don't kill me, I... I beg you." He ground out the last words, but the desperation in his face seemed real enough.
Rhia's smile was frosty. "Oh, I see where you've gone wrong. What I said, silly elf, is that once we we've defeated Mandrake, I would try to help you out of the predicament you're in. Much as I'm trying to help myself. Unfortunately for both of us, Gannon demanded that if you betrayed us, I was to kill you or die trying. Fleeing from us, before we've even laid eyes on the bastard, and while we're still battling deathless warriors - at your recommendation, mind you - falls directly into Gannon's definitition of betraying us. Unless you have another explanation?"
"What choice did I have? The slavery you named or the chance to flee while you could not follow? My only mistake lay in not fleeing further!" Raising his voice to shout over the noise of flapping wings, he cried out a word that twisted strangely in the ear, but Rhia was ready for him. Her hands threw a net of the Weave over him, and what would have sucked him away from the cave dissolved, instead only staggering him. He looked shocked, real fear in his eyes as he stumbled away from his newfound nemesis and the terrible black cloud of hawks.
Anya lowered her sword. "Look how he bleeds. He cannot fight for long." It was true; blood soaked his clothing, and he moved as though he was tired. Anya stood back, tacitly inviting Rhia to strike the killing blow.
"I surrender! Don't kill me!" The elf pleaded, kicking at the birds on the ground.

Aksana ground her teeth in frustration. *This was a stupid plan,* she fumed to herself. She struggled to reload her crossbow without falling to her death at the same time. *And that oaf of an atjets has been no help at all.* She glared over at the priest of Bane only slightly chagringed that she would dare to think such thoughts.
As though he had heard her thoughts, he pushed his way below and in front of the window, gesturing for her to use him as a platform while reloading. The strain of supporting both their weights was obvious in the vibrating tension of his arms, but Aksana was finally able to fit another tiny bolt into her hand crossbow.
As Emistil continued to beg for his life Aksana's resolve began to erode. The tiny, nagging doubt at the back of her mind kept trying to creep forward. She did her best to shove it back and regain her calm and distance but the distraction of dangling on a cliff face was making it hard to concentrate.
She stared at the atjets of Bane in disbelief when he indicated that she should use his body as a platform. She hesitated for a moment before maneuvering herself into a more advantageous position for loading and firing. She remained highly uncomfortable with the feel of the man's body beneath her feet and crowded up much closer to her than she really wanted. Her thoughts tried to drift back to the one who she did want crowded next to her but she angrily yanked them back from that dangerous territory.
She focused her eyes on the two demons fencing in the small room. Her concentration was broken, her resolve shattered and Anya's lowered sword did little to help matters. She bit her lip in an effort to regain the clarity she needed to make another shot.

Meanwhile, the elf on the cliff looked down over the edge, hearing Emistil's cries for mercy with her sensitive ears. A sudden sadness welled up inside her. She knew her duty to her gods, and that their will was stronger than any individual, even her. Still, she could feel the other elf's pain, as if it were her own. The errant mage had done many wrongs, perhaps too many to atone for. In his last moments, though, his desperate, pathetic cries for help tore at her heart. She told herself it was because her duties to the Church favored bringing the traitor back alive; not because she did not want to lose the one being she had found that could tie her back to her own heritage.
"Do not -" she started to whisper, but held her tongue before continuing. Her eyes turned away, followed by her head and body. She saw Spielos out of the corner of her eye and instinctively brought her hood back over her head. If Spielos were paying close enough attention, he might have caught a single tear slowly rolling down one cheek.
Spielos finished tightening a bandage on his leg. He no longer felt like he was going to be sick, but the world seemed to be a bit distant, the sounds below floating up as if from another world.
"What is happening below," he asked Alethra. "Did we win yet? Has anyone fallen?" With a bit of effort, he was able to get back onto his feet. Spots crept across his vision, and he sat back down, only halfway of his own will. When an answer did not follow quickly, he huffed, "You are the most laconic elf _I have ever met!"_
The elf looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow evident even under the shadows of her hood. "You have met many of my kind in your travels?" she asked; it was almost rhetorical, as she turned away as soon as she asked it. "To answer your qvestion, it sounds like the battle vill soon be over, in our favor. As to vhat happens to the rogue, I do not know."
Alethra looked back over at Spielos, as if to speak again, but held back. Instead, she walked back over to the edge of the cliff, looking down to see how things had progressed.
"Many? I would say more like a few. Westgate is a large city, and all types of people pass through there. The key thing, though, is that most elves never shut up about how great they are." He turned to Alethra. "Of course, most of them were not-" He stopped, but his mind continued the thought" *beaten into submission like you were, either.* "Nevermind," he said instead.
"What makes you think I meant Aksana, anyway?" he asked, after a moment, as if the comment had just sunk in.
The elf looked at him puzzled. "No, I meant Emistil," she said. Her mind processed the question, and Spielos' need to ask it. It had little effect on her or her duties, but any information was worth saving, in case it might be exploited later. Such as the other outlander's feelings towards the Warden, or Aksana's barely-concealed feelings for Spielos. Perhaps the feelings were mutual?
As if sensing an awkwardness, she bowed and backed away.

As if by some signal, the multitude of dark hawks drew back, the shadows sucking them away until only Rhia, Anya and Emistil remained in the cavelike room.
"On your knees then," Rhia demanded, coldly. "If you think secrets can buy your life, start with this one: how did you find this place, and how do we leave it - by mundane means?" The blade of her sword reached for Emistil's throat, making it obvious that failure to submit fully meant death.
He slowly dropped to his knees, his arms held wide. His eyes spoke volumes for the effort it took not to raise his own sword in defense, but he let Rhia press her blade to his neck without protest. He hesitated to swallow before answering, but Aksana's bolt snapping into the floor by him opened his mouth in a hurry.
"I knew this place of old," he grated, listing to the side where blood soaked his armor. "I don't think there's any mundane way to leave... but then I thought there was no way to reach it." His voice shook when he spoke, eyes flicking between Rhia and her strangely beautiful sword. She had the sense that he was too frightened to be lying.

Aksana snorted. No mundane way in or out; it would be a fitting end for the witch and the demon to be trapped in there. Of course she suspected that the two sorcerous creatures had some foul magic that would allow them to escape but she was concerned for Anya. She narrowed her eyes; if the witch had lured Anya into a slow death trapped in that room Aksana would make sure she paid for it.
While she watched and listened she reloaded another bolt even though she did not think she would need it. She whispered down to the atjets serving as her platform. "Do we need to continue to hang here or may I climb back up to the top?" She suspected that the Banite would want to stay at the window and listen to the demon's whining but she hoped that he would allow her to retreat back up the cliff.

"Then I guess we're climbing out of here. Which means digging out the window. Get to work." She gestured at the wall with her chin, eyes cold, sword never flinching.
"Aksana," she called out the window, "If he even twitches like he's going to use magic, shoot him."
Gannon, grunting as he held onto the rope and the window, looked up in surprise. "Vhat do you mean? It is not dead yet?"
"It's going to dig out the window so we can leave, then it's going to tell us everything it knows that might be even the slightest bit useful to us. Then, depending on how useful it's been, we might not kill it," Rhia answered through the window.
Gannon frowned. "This is a dangerous game you play, Vitch. It has betrayed you vonce. If it betrayes you again, you vill be responsible for the actions it takes." Aksana could feel Gannon's arms beginning to shake slightly.
"Very well," Rhia answered, her eyes locked to Emistil's, "I accept that responsibility."
"Fine then." Gannon did not seem especially pleased, but he did not argue further. "Scout, you vill go up and make sure the Gypsy, he is not yet dead. I vill stay and vatch, to kill vhatever it is that proves to need killing."
Aksana sighed in relief; in her mind Gannon's order topped that of Rhia's hands down. She quickly stashed her crossbow and began the climb back to the top of the cliff. Even though she hadn't been the one supporting two bodies on the side of the cliff by the time she got back to the top she found her arms shaking; partly from tiredness, partly just relief at not dangling over a sheer drop.
She moved away from the edge and sat next to Spielos trying to recover her breath. "The Atjets, he vishes to know if you are dead yet or not." She grinned facitiously at the gypsy. "Maybe I should just tell him you bled out vhile ve vere trying to catch the demon, yes?"
Spielos looked up. "No," he replied, "that would not solve the problem of how big of a pain in my ass he is." He got up and drew his knife. As he started walking over to the rope, he said gravely, "Far better to just cut him loose and watch him fall."
After one or two steps he turned and smiled at Aksana. "Just kidding," he said, turhing to give Alethra a wink. "I take it the fight went in our favor?"
Aksana gaped at Spielos as he walked towards the cliff's edge. She was so astonished that she was frozen in place. When he revealed his joke she managed a hesitant, slightly twitchy smile. "It vas not much of a fight," Aksana replied relaxing again. "The demon, he gave up fighting right avay." She made a face at how weak Emistil appeared. "The vitch, she plays vord games vith it vhile Gannon, he urges her to kill it." She shrugged, "ve vill just have to vait and see vhich vay the game svings." She sighed and massaged her tired arms, "I am just glad to be off of that cliff face."

"You heard him, elf. Get digging."
Emistil raised no protest, climbing painfully to his feet and turning to the window. Sticking his arm into the hole to his shoulder, he clawed weakly at the dirt and stones.
After a short time, Anya made a disgusted noise. She had stayed close by the elf, sword in hand, wary of some treachery. Now she turned her head to Rhia, though her eyes stayed on Emistil. "The demon, he is too veak. It vill take a ride to dig us out at this rate. There vere picks and shovels in the caves; ve should let the sellspears dig us out."
Emistil, panting heavily and contorted to one side, paused in his scratching at the opening beyond the window. "My Art. Can get us out," he gasped, leaning against the wall. His face was ghastly pale in the torchlight. "The same way. I got in. But I need to rest."
Anya glanced at Rhia, her sword at the ready. "Even if vhat he says, it is true, ve cannot trust him. It vould be better to vait for the sellspears." Despite her words, she called no orders, waiting for the others to speak.
Rhia lifted an eyebrow. "You have another of those Weaves prepared, or were you planning to spend the night here and prepare another one?"
The elf sagged, closing his eyes. "Prepare another. Need rest first." He swallowed with a dry click, then continued, "It's too late... for you to fetch your minions... in any case. You will have to wait... til morning. Unless your power extends... to flying them up here."
Rhia's eyes flashed, but her sword flashed faster, seeming to dart for Emistil's eyes. It stopped just short - short enough that blinking would likely result in a sliced eyelid.
"Explain to me, elf, just how it is that you were planning to prepare such a weave _without your book._" The steel in both her tone and her eyes left no room for equivocation. Her face made it clear that the wrong answer would mean Emistil's death. Unfortunately for the elf, she gave no hint of what the _right_ answer might be.
Gannon's iron-bound fist slammed into the stone beside the window. "Even now it lies to you! Vhy do you not obey me and kill it?"
"Because it does not lie well, Atjets, which means it might still be of use." Rhia's answer was distant, almost uncaring. *And because Emistil hasn't yet figured out that death is the more merciful option,* she thought, *and even if he had, he certainly hasn't earned such mercy.*
Emistil sat very still, his focus switching from the sword to Rhia. His voice was careful as he said, "If you prepare a spell often enough, the exact method of it may be learned well enough that no reference is needed. It is a skill that requires talent and a sharp mind, and I am in possession of both."
"I know several myself," Rhia gave the elf a cold smile, "you're neither as talented or as sharp a mind as you think, elf, nor are you the only one blessed with either. What exactly can you prepare without a book, assuming I let you live long enough to do so?"
Emistil's eyes flashed, but he answered her mildly enough. "Among my other little tricks, I can discover when magic is about, create the portal we need to escape, and send my own bones flying as darts."
Gannon was not a man accustomed to being thwarted, nor to not knowing (or at least having a good idea) what was going on. In this case, he was both, and it did not sit well with him. The heathen witch seemed to be getting information from the demon, and her bearing was far more suitable this time around than it had been the _last_ time he'd seen her question the captive, but of course, she was one interrogation session too late. The hell-spawned thing should be bleeding out on the end of that sword of hers, not-
Gannon looked more closely. Yes, there _was_ quite a lot of blood on the demon, and it moved weakly, if at all. Rhianna had prevented it from using magic at one point, he was sure of it - something she had not been able to do when it was uninjured. That meant it must be very weak, indeed. Perhaps the witch was more clever than Gannon had given her credit for. If the thing was weakened to the point that it was going to die anyway, giving it the illusion of hope to get what information it might possess could prove to be a - dare he even think it? - a wise decision?
Obviously, he would have to keep a sharper eye on the witch, lest she think herself clever enough to somehow thwart Bane's will.
Anya shook her head. "You cannot mean to let him do this thing." Edging forward with her sword at the ready, she pulled the shortsword from his unresisting grasp. "Are ve to simply vait vhile he rests? And vhile he prepares the Gods know vhat kind of spell?"
"You would have to wait longer for your lackeys to dig us out," Emistil pointed out, slumping to the ground with his back against the wall.
_"They_ have no reason to betray us," Anya grumbled.
"She's right Emistil," Rhia said, using the elf's name on purpose, "how am I to know you're preparing the right spell, and more importantly, when you cast it, how am I to know you're casting it to move all of us, not just yourself? And if you're moving all of us, how do I know it's to the cave, and not directly to Mandrake and his goons?" She shook her head.
"Atjets, I think you'll have to send for the sellspears."

The Second Cycle