Leliana ran for the bridge. "Stay there," she shouted over her shoulder. "Don't try to follow."
That last had been for Jub's benefit. The half-orc wasn't even armed, save for his fishing knife. If the construct was on its way back to its wizard master and Jub followed, he'd only get himself killed. Again.
"Right," he called back. "No favors. Got it."
Leliana didn't have time to wonder what he'd meant. She hurried into the cavern on the opposite side of the bridge, past its trio of columns, and on into the maze of twisting corridors. As she ran, she cast a sending. She tried to remember the name of the young Nightshadow who was patrolling that cavern. She could picture him clearly in her mind: he was as light-footed as a dancer, with straight-cut bangs above intense red eyes. A recent convert who worshiped the "Masked Lady" and wore a sword-shaped pendant in addition to his black mask.
Suddenly the name came to her. "Naxil!" she shouted.
Eilistraee's magic filled her. His mind touched hers. Alert. Questioning.
A construct is coming your way. A plate-sized gold crab. Halt it, but don't destroy it. Qilue will want to examine it.
His reply was tense, excited. I see it!
Leliana ran on, turning right, then left, then right again. She passed the first of the tunnels that led back to the Sargauth-back to the cavern the crab had scurried into after climbing out of the river. This first tunnel followed a laborious, winding path, but there was a shorter route just ahead. She turned into this second tunnel, and at last reached the cavern that overlooked the river. It was empty. She stood, panting, looking around for the Nightshadow.
Which way had he gone? Three different corridors led from this cavern to the maze of corridors beyond. She bent to inspect the floor, hoping the crab might have left a dribble of water that would show her which corridor it had entered.
Naxil emerged from the third tunnel, startling her. "Dark Lady," he panted. "My apologies. The construct escaped."
He met her eye unflinchingly as he delivered the bad news. For someone who'd left Eryndlyn behind only a year ago-who would still have the matron mothers and their ways fresh in his mind-Naxil was refreshingly bold.
"Where did you last see it? Show me."
Naxil spun and pointed. "This way."
He led her down a corridor that dead-ended, and pointed at the blank wall. "There."
Leliana examined the stone. It was utterly smooth, worn down by the oozes and slimes that had slithered through this area for centuries, prior to Qilue and her companions cleansing this place. There were no crevices into which the crab construct could have scuttled, no cracks in the floor or chimneys in the ceiling.
"Are you certain it didn't double back? Get past you?"
"I'm certain. It ran to this spot and… vanished."
"A portal," Leliana concluded.
Naxil nodded. "Must be."
Leliana sang a prayer and passed her free hand over the wall. She didn't expect her hymn to reveal anything: three and a half years ago, after the Selvetargtlin attack on the Promenade, these passageways had been carefully examined by priestesses more experienced in portal magic than she. The corridors had also been examined by mundane means: the Promenade's lay worshipers included several rogues who were adept at detecting hidden doors and passages. Even so, the construct had to have gone somewhere.
A flicker of Faerzress blossomed on the wall next to Naxil, momentarily washing his face with a faint blue glow. He was a handsome male-young enough to be Leliana's son, and in his physical prime. Later, when things were quieter, she just might take him. With his permission, of course, she reminded herself. Since her redemption, she'd played by Eilistraee's rules.
"Dark Lady?" Naxil asked. "Should I return to my post?"
"Not yet." Leliana sheathed her sword. She wanted to check the corridor one last time, to gather as much information as she could before reporting to the battle-mistress. "And call me Leliana."
She squatted to inspect the floor. As she ran her fingers across it she felt a slight tugging. It was almost as if the floor were a lodestone, exerting a pull upon the rings she wore. Yet neither ring should have been drawn to a lodestone. Her shield ring was platinum, and the one next to it-the ring that allowed her to levitate-was gold.
Just like the construct.
The pull suddenly intensified. Her hand jerked downward and touched the floor. She saw Naxil stagger sideways and felt her stomach lurch. A glow surrounded them: a golden circle in the floor, centered on the spot where Leliana crouched.
"Mother's blood," Leliana swore. She leaped to her feet and drew her sword.
They were no longer in the corridor. The portal had activated, sending them somewhere else: a roughly oval cavern about a hundred paces wide, with a ceiling so low Leliana could have reached up and touched it. A multitude of hair-thin crevices criss-crossed the floor, walls, and ceiling, giving them the appearance of old, cracked pottery. The stone glistened slightly in spots, as if wet: probably condensation; it felt hot and moist in here.
Leliana could see three exits, all of them natural tunnels. Two led off into darkness; from the third came a dull red glow. Warmth flowed out of it, stirring the air and filling the cavern with the smell of molten stone.
Defensive stance, Leliana signed with her free hand.
Naxil swiftly repositioned himself, his back to hers. He held his magical dagger by the point, ready for a throw. She heard him whisper a prayer of protection. Each scanned the area, their free hand held out where the other could see it in peripheral vision. Leliana's sword hummed softly, anticipating danger.
No threat spotted, Naxil signed.
No immediate threats, Leliana agreed.
Nor was there any sign of the construct. There were, however, half a dozen large jumbles of iron that might once have been other constructs, lying in rusting heaps on the floor.
Do you know this place? Naxil asked.
No.
The gold circle started to fade. Leliana squatted and touched her ring to the floor. Nothing happened. The golden glow disappeared. It looked as though they weren't getting out of here via the portal.
Fortunately, they had another way out: a prayer that would return them to the spot on the surface that Leliana had designated as her sanctuary. But she didn't want to invoke that magic yet. She wanted to learn more about where the portal had sent them.
She decided to send a brief message to the battle-mistress, before moving out. Rylla, she sent. There's a new portal in a dead-end between Three Pillars and Dragon Throne Cavern. I accidentally activated it. Can you scry me?
She waited. No reply came. The portal had either sent them to another plane-unlikely, this certainly felt like part of the Underdark-or this place was somehow warded to prevent magical communication.
Something dripped from the ceiling onto her shoulder. A moment later she felt dampness as it soaked through her chain mail, into the padded tunic she wore underneath-then a burning as it reached her skin. Acid! She heard Naxil suck air through clenched teeth. A drop must have struck him, as well.
She sprang away from the spot, and Naxil did likewise. They looked up. Acid-slicked strands of what looked like gray mucus were oozing from one of the cracks in the ceiling, directly over the spot where they'd just been standing. The strands twitched slightly, like worms, elongating even as Leliana watched.
Gray ooze, she signed. A quick glance around confirmed her fear: the stuff was weeping from several other spots in the ceiling. In some places, acid fell in a steady dribble. In others, it dripped. A drop of it landed on her hand, stinging it.