In reply, Belexus gave a sharp tug that turned Ardaz about ninety degrees. The wizard gave a stifled cry, thinking he was about to slam the wall, but he went into blackness instead, a small side passage.
“Douse yer wizard light,” Belexus bade him, squeezing by and pulling the wizard along.
Ardaz looked at his staff curiously for a moment, then, with a word, extinguished the fire burning atop it. On they went. They heard the dragon skid up in the main corridor, near to where they had detoured, and a great sniffing sound told them that the wyrm had not been fooled.
“Run on!” the pair cried together, and Ardaz added, “I do daresay!”
The wizard desperately tried to summon another defensive globe, but he wouldn’t be fast enough this time, and only Belexus’ pulling saved him, took him far enough down the side passage that Salazar’s fiery blast only tickled his backside.
“Thieves!” the dragon bellowed, and that roar seemed worse by far than the dragon-fire breath. “What trick is this?”
“Trick?” Belexus echoed curiously. “Going down a smaller tunnel’s no trick. Not a good one, anyway,” he added when he turned a slight bend and came against solid stone, the dead end of the passage.
“Something else?” Ardaz asked with a shrug, and his thought was bolstered a moment later when he heard the dragon rush off, back the way it had come.
“Are ye thinking that we should go back out there?” the ranger asked after a long, quiet while.
Ardaz shook his head so fiercely that his lips made smacking sounds.
“Well, put up yer light,” the ranger said, and when Ardaz complied, they saw that they had indeed come to a dead end.
“Only one way out,” Belexus reasoned.
Again, the wizard’s lips smacked wildly, ending when Ardaz pursed them and blew out the fire at the end of his staff.
“Then we’ll be sitting here a bit and waiting,” the ranger said, and it was obvious from his tone that the notion didn’t wear well upon him.
“Just give the wyrm a chance to get farther away,” Ardaz begged.
“If DelGiudice coaxes the thing on a merry chase, then might be that we can get back in the treasure room and sniff about for the sword.”
The darkness in the tunnel was complete, but the ranger could well imagine the incredulous look Ardaz was offering his way.
“We come for the sword,” the ranger announced with more determination than he had been able to muster since first he sighted the terrible dragon.
“We ran away,” Ardaz said dryly.
“Only to regroup and go back,” Belexus said determinedly.
Ardaz’ snort showed that he was far from like mind.
“We can’t be letting the wraith-”
“Oh, bother the wraith, and Thalasi, too,” the wizard interrupted. “I’d fight them both with my bare hands before I’d go back into the Salazar’s room! Have you gone mad, then?”
In response, a grumbling Belexus crawled over Ardaz, none too gently, and started back down the passage. The wizard couldn’t make out many of the words the ranger was muttering, but he heard “Andovar” and “vengeance” quite clearly.
“I do daresay,” Ardaz mumbled, and with a helpless shrug, he crawled into line behind the ranger, even brought up his staff-torch a moment later-not that his courage had increased, just that he was feeling so ultimately stupid that he figured he might as well take this quest all the way. If they were indeed going back after the wyrm, then they might as well let the wyrm know it. “Might get it over with more quickly,” was all the explanation Ardaz offered to Belexus when the ranger turned back to stare incredulously at the light.
They came to the lip of the tunnel and paused there, listening to hear if the dragon was waiting quietly just around the bend. Then Belexus hesitated once more, taking a long while to try to muster the courage to peek out. It mattered little, the ranger told himself, for if the dragon was nearby, waiting to spring, the beast could just as easily go to the mouth of the hole and let loose its fires, for the ranger and Ardaz could never scramble far enough away in time.
Still, thinking about an action and performing it can be two very different things, and Belexus had to wait a moment longer before he found the strength to ease his head and the lit end of the wizard’s staff out into that wider tunnel.
All was clear, so the ranger crept out, then motioned Ardaz to follow-then reached back and pulled the trembling and unmoving wizard out. The ranger pointed right, back toward the treasure room, but Ardaz stubbornly pointed left, back toward the exit.
Belexus thrust his finger more forcefully to the right and nodded that way.
Ardaz started left.
Belexus caught him by the beard and turned him about, and then both jumped and yelped, surprised by the approach of the ghost of DelGiudice.
“What’re ye about?” the ranger started to complain, but the words were stuck in his throat the moment he noted the precious cargo Del carried.
“There are some advantages to this semiethereal state,” the ghost explained, handing the weapon over.
“Ah, but she’s beautiful,” the ranger said with an awestricken gasp, feeling the balance and the clean cut, and witnessing the trailing diamond light.
“Salazar knows I took it,” Del explained. “I think he knew the moment I picked it up, though he was out here, chasing you.”
“Dragons are like that,” Ardaz offered.
“Never have I seen such a blade,” the ranger went on, the gleam of the diamonds reflecting off his clear eyes, even in the dim light.
“Knows which way I went, too,” Del tried to explain.
The ground shook beneath their feet, then again and again at even intervals, the heavy footsteps of the approaching wyrm.
“Time to go,” Ardaz implored, and when Belexus continued staring at the blade, the wizard popped him on top of the head with the end of his staff. “Time to go!” Ardaz said again, pointing frantically back down the tunnel.
Belexus turned to see the long and empty passage but could hear, quite clearly, the thunderous approach. For an instant, the ranger thought of going back that way, of trying his luck against the wyrm now that he held such a powerful weapon as this.
He decided against that course, only because his duty was to Andovar; and his primary enemy, and the greatest threat to the goodly folk of the world, remained the wraith of Hollis Mitchell.
“Run on and I’ll keep the dragon busy for a bit,” Del offered.
Ardaz and Belexus exchanged skeptical glances, but it was obvious that Del had already accomplished quite a bit more than they ever could have hoped to, and so they started off, after Belexus tried to pat the ghost on the shoulder and inadvertently slid his hand right through Del’s chest.
Del watched them go, managing a supportive smile. In truth, though, the ghost was feeling a bit low, sad that he could not experience that touch, or any touch, from a warm, living creature. He thought of Brielle again, of their lovemaking, and his heart sank.
It was just for a moment, though, as the spirit purposefully recalled his time with the Colonnae-and how distant that memory seemed! It struck Del as more than a bit odd how the trappings of this world and this shape, such as they were, were imposing upon him some very different emotions than any he had experienced in all his time with Calae, as if the form itself were dictating some thought to the intelligence.
That was a question for another day, Del realized, as the dragon came rambling into sight at the end of the corridor. The ghost waited until he was certain the wyrm saw him; then he slipped into the same side tunnel Ardaz and Belexus had recently exited.
Salazar was there quickly, and with predictable, irrational fury, the dragon breathed its fire into the passage, balls of searing flame rolling over calm Del.
“Deeper, deeper!” Del yelled, turning his mouth so that his voice was aimed deeper into the tunnel, as if he were bidding his friends to run for all their lives.