Hand-in-hand, Sophraea and Gustin hopped over the skeletons.
Feeler stepped in front, pulling out the iron key for the Dead End door. With a quick snap, he unlocked the door and shoved it open.
"We best go before the watcher starts screaming," Feeler said, pushing Gustin and Sophraea forward. Gustin stretched his neck, still trying to get the best possible view of the guardgoyle's movements.
Nipping in behind them, Fish nodded vigorously, already clapping his hands over his ear holes.
Still fighting in the middle of a knot of skeletons, the guardgoyle opened its big mouth in preparation for a scream.
Fish slammed the Dead End door shut as quickly as possible. Although the heavy wood door muffled the worst of the guardgoyle's shriek, everyone winced at the burst of sound.
"I wonder if skeletons can be deafened," Sophraea said, rubbing her smarting ears.
Feeler gave a sympathetic shrug. His tentacles were wrapped tightly around his head, effectively creating earplugs for both ears.
"I do not think the dead will be able to pass it," he said.
"There were so many following us in the tunnels," Sophraea worried. The dead that she'd seen in the tunnels seemed much more substantial and dangerous than the ones who had been dancing through the upper gate in the last few days. She had a feeling that these corpses wouldn't be content with just knocking at Rampage Stunk's windows.
"But the guardgoyle is very strong and all the corpses that we saw moving in the tunnels were very old and quite rotted. I do not think that they will be able to overcome it," Feeler stated. "But Fish and 1 will stay here. If the door is in danger of being breached, we will retreat to the higher levels, barring the gates and locking other doors behind us."
"Thank you," said Sophraea with a quick hug for both of her old friends. "But don't take any chances. Come up to the kitchen if there is any danger at all!"
"Is that where we are going?" asked Gustin, following her up the stairs past the lower defenses of Dead End House.
"Myemaw will know that I roused the watcher," Sophraea explained breathlessly over her shoulder. "And she'll call the family in. That's the drill in case of a serious attack."
"Your family has a drill for attacks?" Gustin leaped up the stairs behind her.
"All the old trade families in Waterdeep do." Sophraea twisted around a bend in the stairs and saw the welcome outline of the parlor door above her. "There're tales of the old battles in the streets. So we're always taught to be prepared. Bolt down and stay put, that's the safest way to avoid harm."
But even as they emerged into the front parlor, Sophraea could hear the sounds of fighting coming from the courtyard. She rushed to the window and saw Stunk's bullies trying to force their way into the yard from the public gate. Bentnor, Cadriffle, and their brothers were holding them off with hammers, tongs, and some long lengths of boards intended for coffins.
From the huge grin that split Bentnor's face below his bloody nose, Sophraea judged that he was having a wonderful time bashing the redheaded goon in front of him. Bentnor's wide shoulders, where his heavy leather work apron didn't protect him, dripped blood from a mass of scratches. Nothing serious yet, Sophraea decided, because the injuries weren't slowing him at all. One of Stunk's fatter guards screeched as Bentnor rammed a board into his midriff.
"That's not good," said Gustin, pointing over her shoulder in the other direction.
Sophraea spun to peer through the window toward the Carver's former gate into the City ofthe Dead. The newly mortared bricks were starting to bow forward. Sophraea's father and her uncles rushed to the bricked over gate with lumber to shore it up..
A brick plopped out of the wall and a ghastly hand reached through. It pulled at the next brick. Sophraea's father Astute crashed his mallet down on the grasping fingers. The corpse on the other side obviously felt no pain. It continued to worry at the bricks blocking its way.
Sophraea's mother swept into the courtyard, leading the Carver aunts and other wives. The women all carried pots, pans, brooms, and buckets of steaming hot water as well as some wicked carving knives. With a curt wave of her free hand to the left and right, Reye directed the women to split into two groups, one to reinforce the defenders of the street-side gate and the other to help the men trying to hold back the deceased nobility intent on breaking in from the graveyard.
Even Sophraea's old grandmother was in the yard. Myemaw threw her black ball of yarn toward Stunk's bullies. The yarn wound up the legs of the thin man who was always complaining. entangling him from ankles to hips. He tipped forward and crashed to the ground, yelping as he fell.
With a quick click of her knitting needles, Sophraea's grandmother summoned back the yarn and redirected it toward another thug.
"It will be night soon. Everything is getting worse," said Sophraea, spinning away from the window and heading toward the center staircase. "We need some real help."
"Where are you going?" said Gustin, pelting up the stairs after her.
"To Volponia!" Sophraea shouted back, praying as she went that the former pirate queen would know what to do!
TWENTY-TWO
Realizing her family's tactics would only delay the invasion of Dead End House, Sophraea flew up the stairs to Volponia's room.
Gustin was hard on her heels.
When they reached the landing just outside Volponia's door, the wizard grabbed her hands. "Look," he said.
From the tower window, Sophraea clearly saw that Rampage Stunk's men were well into the courtyard. Behind them strode the fat man. From his gestures, it appeared that he was instructing his men to herd the Carvers into the center of the yard..
Bentnor, Cadriffle, and the rest of the younger Carver males were not giving up, despite equally urgent gestures from Reye and Myemaw, who were trying to pull the family back toward the house. From this angle, Sophraea could not see the City of the Dead or the graveyard gate. But the worried glances in that direction from all the women suggested that the graveyard gate was being breached by the dead.
"I'm going to die," said Gustin, peering down into the yard. "Look at the size of Stunk's men. Look at the size of your family. I'm going to go down there and try to stop them from killing each other and end up being crushed between them. Or be overrun by corpses bent on revenge against Stunk."
He gave a huge sigh, but there was that peculiar undercurrent of joy in his voice, that bubbling excitement he always exuded in the worst situations. Just being near him made the extremely worried Sophraea feel a little more confident.
"We don't have time to stand around talking," Sophraea said as she hurried up the stairs.
"When I was small," he responded with a laugh, "I dreamed about this. Fighting a great battle in Waterdeep. Just like my guidebook promised!"
"Nobody has to die," Sophraea retorted as she reached back to grab him and drag him after her. "We will stop this somehow."
Although, at that moment, she had absolutely no idea how she could save her family.
"No," said Gustin, shaking his head just as firmly as Sophraea so often shook her head at him. "I'm going to die this afternoon and there is nothing that your huge collection of male relatives can do to me after that."
"What were you nattering about? We don't have time for this!"
"Yes we do!" announced Gustin. He grasped Sophraea's shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes were burning a brilliant green and the hum of a small spell slipped through his smiling lips.
Sophraea felt her feet leaving the floor. Gustin's smile broadened. She floated upward until her mouth was level with Gustin's smile.