Syth gave a harsh laugh and twirled the cube between his fingers before making it dance across the back of his knuckles. “I took it from Grelthus’s tunic without him knowing, one time when he passed too close to my cage. At the time, I was kept in the chamber above, though he put an end to that. Oh, how long I practiced for that moment, and when my chance came, it was executed without flaw! Thought I had caught my robes afire for a moment, but nay, it was a clean grab. Grelthus was livid when he discovered it missing, and naturally he turned his suspicion upon me, but in the end I convinced him that I had last seen it amid the clutter of his table. He procured another, but he was, regrettably, much more guarded around me after that.”
A hard grin spread across his features. “I invited him to join me in the cage and search my person for the key, but he declined.”
“A moment ago you were protesting your innocence,” Bellimar chided, the corner of his mouth quirked in a slight smile.
“I said I had harmed none of the Wyrgens in my capture,” Syth said. “I never denied being a thief, and a rather accomplished one at that.”
“Damn your hide, Syth!” Amric growled. “If you had shared this earlier, we could have pursued Grelthus before he gained such a lead.”
He strode toward the cage, but Syth waved his hand in a flourish and the metal cube vanished from sight. “Not just yet, friend,” he said, wagging his index finger back and forth. “I had to make certain you would free me first, and while your attitude thus far has been laudable, I will nonetheless require your promise on the matter before I pass the key over to you.”
“You have it,” Amric said, holding out one hand. “From the moment you spoke, I had no intent of leaving you in the grasp of a madman.”
“Noble words. Swear it,” Syth gritted.
Amric caught and held the man’s gaze with his own. “I swear, if it be within my power, that I will free you from this cage and from Stronghold as well. If I cannot free you, I will end your life if you wish it, rather than leave you as a captive here.”
Syth’s eyes narrowed, searching the swordsman’s, and then he gave a slow nod. A flick of his wrist brought the cube into view once more, and he peeled back a billowing sleeve to thrust one sinewy arm between the bars of the cage, careful not to let the crackling blue fire contact his flesh. Amric lifted the device from the man’s palm, finding it lighter than expected, and he studied it as he stepped back from the cage. It was metal, as he had already observed, its outer surface etched with an intricate tracework of fine lines that pulsed faintly with contained energy. He grimaced. Magic and more magic; he was surrounded by that which he sought most to avoid.
“Quickly now, how do I use it to open your cage?” he asked.
“This cage sits atop a glowing pad of some kind, which powers the bars,” Syth said. “Look for a metal panel set into the stone of the wall here, it will appear much like the stone but will be glossier and smoother to the touch.”
Amric located the panel, smooth and featureless amid the coarser stone of the wall. “Found it. Now what?”
“Press the cube to the panel and give it a twist, and the bars should extinguish.”
He did so, and the brilliant blue shafts sizzled and winked out, leaving the brooding metal husk dull and lifeless in their wake. Syth eyed where the barrier had been for a moment, as if disbelieving its absence, then sprang from the cage in one lithe movement. He stretched his hands over his head as high as he could reach, and then leapt into the air in a tight spin before landing cat-like on his feet once more.
“Magnificent!” he exulted. “Many thanks, my friends! At this moment, even the fetid air of this cave of jackals seems sweet indeed. Let us depart this foul place without further delay, for I have not felt the kiss of sunlight upon my face for far too long.”
“Soon enough,” Amric said, striding for the stairwell. “We are going after our companion first.”
Syth darted across the room to halt before him, blocking his path, and Amric felt an accompanying gust of wind brush across his skin.
“Hold a moment,” said Syth. “Stronghold is infested with savage, mindless beasts that enjoy nothing more than to dismember intruders. This place is a veritable maze, warrior. I have seen the maps spread across Grelthus’s table, and tried to study them without him knowing, against my eventual escape. Even if Grelthus survives to reach whatever destination he has in mind, and even if you can survive wandering the corridors as well, you still have no idea where they have gone and you do not even know the layout of this place. I hate to say it, but your friend is gone.”
“We are not leaving him behind,” Amric said, stepping to the side to pass around the man, but the latter slid back and to the side to remain before him, standing at the foot of the stairwell and barring its entrance.
“I did not regain my freedom only to exchange it for my very life on a fool’s errand,” Syth said, an edge of iron to his voice.
“No one is asking it of you, thief. You are free to go your own way,” Amric said. “Now move out of my way, or it won’t be the Wyrgens who take your life.”
Syth’s eyes narrowed, and he thrust out one hand, palm up. “Give me back the key, then.”
“You know that I need it to pursue Grelthus,” Amric returned. “The key stays with me.”
“And you know that I cannot escape Stronghold without it,” Syth said. He bared his teeth in a cold smile. “Perhaps I take it from you. I have been watching you, swordsman. You are suffering from odd spells of illness in this place, and I am a dangerous man. Can you protect yourself from me, in your condition? Do you trust your body not to betray you at the crucial moment?”
“Yes, on both counts,” Amric answered at once, though he spoke with more confidence than he felt, for the unexplained bouts of dizziness continued to gnaw at him. “Furthermore, my companions will help ensure that we waste time on this foolish squabble later.”
Syth opened his mouth and then abruptly stiffened, his retort frozen upon his lips. Valkarr appeared behind him like a ghost in the shadowy recesses of the stairwell, the razor tip of his sword pressed against the thief’s spine and encouraging him to an attentive posture. Syth’s eyes flicked to the side, but whatever reaction he might have had was instantly quelled as a second blade caressed his throat from the front. He sucked in a startled breath, and even the incessant breeze swirling about him fell to a whisper. His gaze traveled up that length of shining steel, to where it projected from Amric’s fist, and past that to traverse an arm sheathed in muscle which seemed not plagued at all by illness at the moment, and further yet to find eyes as cold as winter staring back at him.
“You have a choice now, thief, and be thankful for it,” Amric said softly. “Your life can end here as a spreading pool of blood on uncaring stone. Or you can find your own way from Stronghold, and I wish you luck on your journey. Or you can accompany us, and help rescue a man who would do the same for you without hesitation, were your situations reversed.”
Syth’s throat bobbed against the keen edge of the blade as he made to swallow before thinking better of the idea.
“I saw the anguish on your face when you spoke of what the Wyrgen has done to you and other captives,” Amric continued. “Would you argue to leave another in his clutches, now that you have won your own freedom?”
“Very well, I will help,” Syth said through clenched teeth. “I will delight in seeing to it that Grelthus never claims another victim.” Despite his evident care in speaking, a spot of crimson welled at his throat where the blade touched. Amric held his stance a moment longer, then withdrew his sword, though he did not return it to its scabbard upon his back.
“Good,” Amric said with a twisting smile. “We can renew our efforts to kill each other after we escape Stronghold alive.”
Behind the man, Valkarr let his weapon drop as well. Syth let out a breath and put his hand to his neck. Amric moved past him and bounded up the stairs, while Valkarr waited for the thief and followed close at his heels. Bellimar brought up the rear. By the time the others reached the door, Amric had it unlocked and was stalking through the cluttered chamber beyond.