At first he heard nothing, which was more or less what he expected; he didn’t really believe that the drow could have overtaken them yet. The dungeon’s depths were eerily still, with a near-complete absence of sound that seemed almost pregnant with menace. Then he caught a soft clicking sound from the passage to his left, with a sort of dull scraping thump.
Seila heard it as well. “Jack-” she whispered.
“Hide the light,” he hissed, drawing her quickly to the right. He pulled her across the hallway and ducked into another archway as Seila hurriedly swaddled the old rock-crystal from the landing in the folds of her tunic. Darkness settled around them, relieved by only the merest hint of a dull warm glow shining through the cloth. Jack held his breath, hoping that whatever was passing by would keep on its way. The clicking came closer, now accompanied by a strange creaking sound. Then the sounds stopped. Peering down the hallway from their hiding place, Jack realized he could make out several dim violet lights gleaming in the shadows, hovering near the passage ceiling. The faint lights swayed slowly from side to side, moving in unison, then more came into view … eyes! Jack realized. Four eyes, and they’re looking right at us.
With a sudden loud clacking and an eager roar, something barreled down the hallway toward the two humans. Jack pulled Seila back into the passage behind him, and discovered a floor strewn with rubble that shifted and clattered under his feet. The girl stumbled on the uneven ground, but even as their unknown assailant lunged closer, she yanked out the cloaked crystal-lamp and revealed its full strength. “Get back!” she shouted-either advising Jack to flee or trying to scare off the monster closing in on them.
The lamp was not terribly bright, but in the near-blackness of the dungeon hallway, it was as dazzling as a careless glance at the sun. Jack caught a glimpse of giant mandibles and huge armored claws, an apelike body covered in plates of chitin, and two pairs of eyes reflecting golden light. “Oh, damn it all,” he muttered. “An umber hulk. Why not?”
He almost jerked Seila out of her shoes as he sprinted away, fleeing across the rubble-strewn chamber. He had never seen an umber hulk before, but he’d heard plenty of stories from battered adventurers recounting the terrors of Sarbreen in taprooms and alehouses. “Try not to look it in the eye,” he said over his shoulder. “It can knock you senseless or mesmerize you with its gaze!”
“I’m more worried about its gigantic claws and fangs, thank you,” Seila cried.
They fled from one chamber to another, darting across room after rubble-filled room while the massive umber hulk crashed along through the stonework and debris behind them like a living avalanche. Jack didn’t remember this part of Sarbreen all that well, but he tried to head in the general direction of the dungeon entrance he knew was somewhere nearby. He took a wrong turn that very nearly proved lethal, ducking into a blind alcove where he expected a passageway. The monster roared and smashed one huge armored claw at its small prey; Jack leaped aside, and instead of crushing him the blow hammered into the stone wall with such force that the polished stone blocks dressing the walls bounced out of place and fell in a shower of dust and stone.
The hulk roared again as heavy stone blocks pummeled its carapace, and then it retreated. “Come on!” Jack shouted to Seila. He took one step to flee while the monster was on its heels, but the noblewoman stood stock-still, gazing up at the monster’s glimmering eyes with a blank expression. Jack swore viciously, realizing that she’d been disoriented by the hulk’s confusing gaze. Turning his back on the massive creature so that he wouldn’t catch even an inadvertent glimpse of all four eyes at close range, he shoved her headlong through a narrow gap in the masonry wall and scrambled after just as the next huge claw hammered down in the spot where he’d been standing.
The monster screeched in anger at their escape and began tearing at the wall with such force that rock and rubble flew from its claws. It would only be a moment before it forced its way after them; Jack dragged Seila to her feet and ran through the next doorway. He found himself in a small, twisting passage linking the weaponsmiths’ halls and workshops, and darted away from the crashing and roaring of the huge creature behind them. By a stroke of great good fortune he’d found a hallway that was somewhat too small for the monster pursuing them. The umber hulk had to crouch and twist to ram itself into the passageway, flailing great chunks of masonry out of its way as it sought to widen the opening.
They emerged in a larger hallway, near a great gate of iron that had been twisted and pulled from its place hundreds of years earlier. Scores of ancient, yellowing skeletons, some still dressed in the rusting remnants of their armor, were scattered around the floor-defenders of Sarbreen who had fallen defending the iron gate. “I know where we are,” Jack said to Seila.
She was coming out of the stupor the umber hulk’s gaze had inflicted upon her; she shook her head vigorously, as if to clear the cobwebs from her thoughts. “Go, go!” she cried. “It’s still behind us!”
Together they ducked under the twisted remnants of the mighty doors and ran down the hallway beyond. Several dark doorways and passages branched off to either side, but Jack ignored them. At the third doorway on their left, he turned and found a dusty old stairway climbing up into the gloom. Without hesitation he led Seila up the steps, taking them two at a time, until he came to an old wooden trapdoor at the top. Jack pushed, but found the trapdoor too heavy to move. “This may prove unfortunate,” he said aloud. “Quickly, Seila-put your shoulder to the door. Together, on three-one, two, three!”
Jack and Seila threw themselves up at the trapdoor, straining with all their might. The door rose a little and stopped, seemingly blocked or held … and then something above gave way with a crash, and the trapdoor flew open. They scrambled up into a dusty old warehouse full of small barrels, casks, and heavy sacks of burlap. Jack saw that a rusty iron clasp with a bolt had secured the trapdoor from above; he and Seila had pushed hard enough to strip the bolts securing the clasp to the door, at which point the whole thing had flown open. Quickly he slammed the trapdoor shut again, and began stacking heavy barrels on top of it.
“You don’t think that thing will follow us all the way up here?” Seila asked.
“I have no idea, but the drow might,” Jack replied. Seila joined him in rearranging the casks and crates stored in the warehouse, until the trapdoor was virtually buried beneath them. Then Jack looked around for an egress, and spotted a bolted door on the other side of the room. He gestured to Seila; they hurried over, drew the bolt, and threw open the door to find a small city alleyway on the other side.
They emerged from the cluttered warehouse into a gray, foggy morning. It was probably fortunate that it wasn’t broad daylight; even the gray gloom of early morning seemed overwhelmingly bright to Jack, and he had to shade his eyes with his hands and squint to keep from being blinded outright. He took a deep breath and tasted the myriad familiar odors of the city: The damp salty smell of the sea, the acrid smoke of countless cooking fires, the reek of furnaces and kilns, the delightful aroma of bread baking and meats sizzling, even the earthy stink of dung and refuse clinging to the gutters and outhouses. Not all of it was pleasant, but it was vital and alive, and the happy clamor of his city waking to a new day was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
He caught Seila’s hand and squeezed her fingers in his, grinning like an idiot. She was beaming, too, standing with her eyes closed and face uplifted to the damp gray sky. “I never thought I would see daylight again,” she said. “Oh, Jack, how can I ever thank you?”
An idea or two came to mind immediately, but he decided it would be unchivalrous to mention them. Instead he gave her a small bow and said, “You mentioned the hospitality of your father’s table. That would be an excellent start. After that, a very long soak in a hot bath, and perhaps a change of clothing.”