Turnstone, with his grim face and white mustache, shrugged.
Araezra sighed. "Well, well." She pulled at the clasps of her breastplate, thrusring it open to the belly. Turnstone's eyes almost popped and Treth just smiled. "Turn, jacks."
They did-though she could swear Treth was still watching.
Araezra shrugged out of her coat-of-plate, revealing her sweat-plastered chemise. It was a thin, short affair that kept her cool under her uniform armor-to which the padding was attached-but it was hardly modest, particularly when sweaty. She rolled her eyes and positioned the straps of her harness where they offered the most cover-and the best support. Sometimes, Araezra wished she'd been born a boy.
"Well," she said, tying her hair back.
The guards turned. Turnstone had the decency to blush, while Treth snickered. Araezra threw her armor at the Snake's chest, blowing the air out of his lungs.
"Ward her well," Araezra said, nodding at Lorien. "Deliver her ro the temple, then meet at the barracks. Unless you happen across Talanna or me-in that case, aid."
She seized the silvery sword out of Turnstone's hands and looked to Treth. "Scabbard."
Treth handed her Shadowbane's scabbard.
Araezra sheathed the sword and stuck the scabbard through the straps on her back, securing it with her belt. She made sure that her hips could move freely. She wasn't sure why she needed Shadowbane's sword, but something compelled her to take it. Then, tapping her watchsword hilt smartly in an ironic salute, she sprinted down the corridor where Shadowbane and Talanna had gone.
Talanna would catch him, all right, unless he could outrun the fastest woman in Waterdeep. Araezra wasn't sure, though, what would transpire when she did catch him. Likely, she would need support, and quickly.
This was ridiculous-running through Downshadow so inde-cenrly. If this didn't end terribly, she would look into a new suit of armor: a light, balanced harness like the sort Talanna wore, crafted for speed and mobility.
For the moment-well, Araezra only hoped the chase wouldn't take her where any citizens might be.
EIGHT
Araezra ran south after the sounds of footfalls. She prayed to Tymora that she'd picked the right direction and wouldn't end up a dragon's lare-night meal. Fortunately, she saw Talanna's bright orange hair fly around a corner twenty paces ahead, so she ran on.
Shadowbane tried to flee deeper into Undermountain, but Talanna was chasing him back toward the main chamber of Downshadow. Good, Araezra thought-at least we won't lose him in the tunnels. Ye gods, but they were fasr. Talanna and Shadowbane tore through chamber after chamber, brushing past the injured delvers they'd found, careening through empty rooms, denying Araezra the chance to gain on them.
Not once or twice but thrice they startled senrries and adventuring bands in tunnels and chambers Araezra and the Guard had avoided. Every time they caught the eye of a sentry and blazed like hellhounds through the midst of their camp, the sellswords and rogues would scramble up only in time for Araezra to appear. They met her with blades, cudgels, and even spells a-ready, confusion running through their ranks.
"Waterdeep Guard!" she cried for the first such band, and they managed only fumbling swings at her as she ran past, panting, her long tail of black hair flying. "Stand aside!"
She drew her sword but didn't bother to block or parry-she kept running, heedless, and leaped the delvers' cookfire ro scramble down the opposite tunnel.
The second such band actually stayed her a moment, where a quick clash of swords and a well-placed kick to the nethers laid low an agile hunter. As she tore open the door Talanna had left swinging, the archer of that group fired an arrow that rusrled Araezra's hair and shattered harmlessly off the wall. She had no time to delay.
The third band, composed almost entirely of young noble fops and a single plain-faced lass in the boiled leather of a delver scout, just stared at the flesh Araezra had bared from under her armor. As she ran past, thanking Tymora they had not attacked, Araezra saw the young woman slap one of the lordlings across the face. It didn't break his stare.
As she ran on, the valabrar cursed inwardly, cheeks burning, and wondered how many dreams of the next few nights would star a dark-haired, half-naked swordmaid.
These thoughts stole her concentration. Bursting into a new chamber, panting, Araezra slammed into Talanna, who had halted in her pursuit. Shadowbane, whom she had cornered, darted into an eastern passage as the women fell atop one another.
"Aye, Rayse!" said Talanna. "He's getting-" Her startled eyes drifted to Araezra's all-but-naked torso, and her cheeks went bright red. "Uh. Sorry!"
They fumbled apart and Araezra scrambled up. She forced her legs to carry her after Shadowbane. She saw his gray cloak flick around a corner and darted that way. Talanna, being much faster, caught up quickly.
They sprinted from chamber to chamber. Most were empty but for abandoned lean-tos and rubble, but in some they flew past sword-swingers and spellweavers, packs of monsters and flaming traps. Every time, they barely glimpsed Shadowbane ahead, disappearing around this corner or that. If they slowed even a touch, he would escape.
They crossed through an especially long chamber filled with clashing blades, screams of pain, and trails of sparks and lightning. Half a dozen warriors wielding the various steel of a rag-tag collection of dungeon delvers were fighting a whole horde of shambling, mindless zombies. Blood and limbs spattered the walls-much of it undead, some of it fresh. The adventurers fought and howled against the walking, flailing dead.
The room was ourfitted with two rows of thirteen thrones stretching the length of the room. Zombies rhat stitched themselves together every time they were destroyed would make their way to the thrones. Three of the great chairs had been blasted to rubble over the centuries, and the zombies that approached those only flopped disconsolately to the floor.
Araezra recognized that hall from whispers among the Guard-the Sleeping Kings, it was called. Most sensible folk avoided the room, but few of the sellswords who descended into Downshadow were sensible.
"This is madness!" Araezra shouted to Talanna.
"Look!" Talanna pointed at Shadowbane, who was creeping along the fringe of the room unmolested. The brawl had slowed him, though, and he was only twenty paces ahead.
With a tight nod, Araezra and Talanna plunged into the thick of it, hacking their way through the undead to continue the chase. Swords bright with firelight, blood splashing everywhere, they fought their way across.
They had no sooner stepped near one of the thrones than Araezra heard a grinding of ancient gears. "Rayse!" Talanna cried.
The floor dropped out from under Araezra's feet, and she would have fallen had not Talanna grasped her wrist. Adventurers screamed and tumbled down, draped with the moaning, wrestling corpses animated by the room's fell magic.
Looking around, Talanna could see that most of the floor had dropped away, leaving the thrones on their bases standing like islands around the chamber. From the appearance of the floor and the sounds of the machinery, the trap had been designed as part of the original room.
Araezra dangled over the pit, clinging desperately to Talanna's hand. Her watchsword had slipped from her grip and fallen inro the pit along with the trap's other victims.
She looked toward the exit-only two thrones away-where Shadowbane stood watching them. Inexplicably, he had paused in his flight, as though deciding whether to flee or sray and aid them. Araezra tried to catch his eye, but he looked away.
"Ready?" Talanna asked, teeth gritted. The strengthening gauntlets on her wrists glittered, enhancing her natural power.
Araezra realized what she meant to do. "What? No! Don't you even think-"