A rock rat.
Shy and mysterious, rock rats were small, mousy creatures with the peculiar ability to burrow through solid stone. In truth, the creatures were magical in nature. Legend told how once long ago a greedy wizard was transformed into a pack rat by an angry enchantress he had swindled. The wizard fled into the mountains to live a life befitting a rat. But ever after, his descendants retained a bit of his magic-and a touch of his greedy nature as well. From that day on, the rock rats had riddled the mountains with their burrows, pilfering any bright baubles or pretty stones they happened upon, squirreling them away to their dens.
This rock rat was no exception to its kind.
Without a sound, the long-whiskered rat scurried across the soft sandy floor of the cave. Attracted by the glowing coals of the fire, it approached Evaine's sleeping form. Suddenly its dark eyes glimmered excitedly. It had caught sight of the glittering brooch pinned to the sorceress's tunic-the gem of communication. The rock rat had never seen anything so shiny in all its life. Its nose twitched furiously.
Swiftly, the rat gnawed with its sharp teeth through the fabric of Evaine's tunic. In moments the brooch was free. Gripping the gem in its mouth, the rock rat scurried back to the small hole in the wall. Focused as he was on the night outside, Gamaliel never noticed the little rodent's theft.
Chittering gleefully to itself, the rock rat padded through a labyrinth of small tunnels toward its den, gripping its treasure tightly. One of the tunnels opened onto a narrow stone ledge, high on the sheer face of a cliff. The rock rat hurried along the rim.
It never even saw the snowy owl that swooped down like a ghost out of the night sky.
The owl reached for the little animal with sharp talons. The rock rat let out one squeak of terror, and the glittering brooch fell spinning into the emptiness below and was gone.
But somehow the little creature managed to wriggle free of the bird's grasp. The owl screeched angrily as the rat scrambled into the sanctuary of its burrow. The snowy bird whirled above the ledge, sensing its quarry was lost. It screeched once more and winged away into the night.
The rock rat cowered in the darkness of its burrow until the owl was lost in the gloom. Finally the small creature let out a soft, sad chitter, then scurried down the tunnel toward its warm, familiar den.
Far below, on a small spur of stone jutting out from the cliff face, the gem of communication glittered in the light of the rising moon.
12
Consciousness came with crushing pain.
Kern's breaths were shallow, burning gasps. He couldn't seem to move his arms or legs. The darkness was suffocating.
"I must be dreaming again," he whispered hoarsely.
"It is no dream, Kern," an eerie voice spoke in the gloom.
Kern sighed in relief. "Miltiades… where are we?"
"In this darkness, who can say?" the undead paladin replied from somewhere nearby.
"Then let's cast a little light on the subject," a familiarly flippant voice added. "Zarjia!" Pale silver light broke through the darkness.
"Maybe casting a light spell wasn't such a good idea after all," Listle remarked bleakly as her eyes surveyed the scene. "Sometimes things look better in the dark."
The five adventurers were being held captive in a catacomb of some sort. Yellowed bone lashed together with dried sinew bonded them to five shallow stone alcoves. Kern craned his head to see Daile and Miltiades to his left, struggling in vain against the skeletal bonds. Listle and Sirana were pinned tightly to his right. Kern tried to move his arms, but the scabrous bones only tightened cruelly. They were trapped.
"I have a feeling we aren't the first guests ever to visit this enchanting place," Listle observed with a gulp.
Kern saw that more alcoves lined the catacomb's walls in either direction. Many were occupied. A mummified owlbear opened its maw in an endless scream, and several decomposing hobgoblins clawed at their bonds, shriveled faces twisted into masks of horror.
The elf, face pale, chewed her lip. "And something tells me that getting in is a whole lot easier than getting out."
"Sirana, can you cast a spell that might free us?" Kern asked the wild mage.
She shook her head. "Not if I can't move my hands." Her dark eyes flashed in frustration. "Powerful magic requires intricate gestures. I can't simply wiggle my ears and teleport us out of here."
An idea struck Kern. "Listle, couldn't you simply pass right through your bonds? You do it with walls all the time."
"I already thought of that, Kern. Unfortunately, I can only pass through inanimate objects." Listle grimaced as the skeletal arms tightened their hold on her. "And these things are definitely not inanimate."
"Perhaps you should not focus on your bonds, Listle," Miltiades suggested.
Her small, elven nose wrinkled. "Wait a minute. I understand! The bones holding me may be animate, but the stones aren't." Her ruby pendant flared brightly. Without warning the elf sank backward into the stone wall of the alcove. Long moments passed.
Abruptly, Listle stepped out of a basaltic column carved with twisted gargoyles.
"Ugh!" She said disgustedly. "That was definitely not pleasant! You really wouldn't believe the stuff that accumulates behind walls in places like this." She hastily brushed bits of dried cobweb and ancient grime from her green tunic. "Now, let me see what I can do about these uncooperative bones, Kern."
However, try as she might, none of Listle's spells and no amount of tugging could break the scabrous bonds.
"All right, Kern, there's one last thing I can try." Listle took a deep breath. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but I don't think I have much choice."
"Listle, what in the world are you talking about?" Kern asked in exasperation.
"Just hold on tight. And whatever you do, don't let go."
Her ruby necklace glowing, Listle disappeared into the floor. Kern wondered what the unpredictable elf was up to. Moments later, he found out as two slender hands reached out of the stones behind him and jerked him backward-right through the solid surface of the wall!
It was far worse than any nightmare. Kern could feel the rock passing through his body with a hideous, slithering sensation. Solid stone filled his heart and lungs, almost choking him. It was horrible. After what seemed an eternity, Listle hauled him up through the catacomb's floor. He gasped for breath. The others stared in surprise.
"Next time just let me starve to death, Listle," Kern said, shuddering in revulsion. "It couldn't be any worse than that." He hauled himself to his feet as the elf slumped weakly against a column, her face alarmingly pale.
"Listle, are you all right?" Miltiades asked in concern.
She nodded. "I'm fine. Really."
"Are you sure?" Kern asked. He reached out to grip the elf's shoulder, but his fingers passed right through her.
"I said I'm fine!" Listle snapped, stumbling away from him. "Do you hear me? Now why don't you see to the others with that precious hammer of yours?" She retreated into the shadows.
Kern gaped at his hand. Had it simply been his imagination? He wondered if the others had seen what he had seen. But no, he realized, his body blocked their view.
Shaking his head, he turned his attention to his companions. One blow of Primul's enchanted warhammer was all it took to shatter the skeletal bonds. In moments, Daile, Miltiades, and Sirana were free. Listle stepped from the shadows to rejoin them.
It was only then, as they all stood together, that Kern realized one of the companions was missing. He had been so preoccupied with their predicament that he had not noticed until now.