As a group, the warriors and the wizard headed for the dark, square-cut portal in the bluffs.
CHAPTER LV
"Are you quite sure you wish…to go alone?" Alrik asked. Trying to steady himself, he placed a meaty hand against the wall. Screwing up his face, he blinked. It was all he could do to remain standing. He let go a wet belch, then wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. Despite the fact that he had just been rude in the presence of the First Wizard, he laughed a little-something he would have never done had he been sober.
Wigg couldn't be angry with him. The impromptu feast that had been arranged in celebration of Tristan and Celeste's marriage had gone on for hours, and every Minion and Gallipolai stationed in and around the Recluse had gladly attended. Alrik had given a drunken toast that seemed to go on forever.
Tristan, Celeste, Wigg, and Jessamay had sat at the table of honor, and gifts had been presented to the bride and groom. For a time, at least, the dancing, drinking, and feasting had provided a welcome respite from their troubles. It was now nearly midnight, and everyone was asleep save for Wigg, Alrik, and a complement of patrolling-and sober-warriors.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Wigg answered. "I see you brought what I asked for."
Alrik nodded. After fumbling about, he clumsily produced the empty canteen. He put its strap around Wigg's neck, then smiled stupidly again. Another fragrant belch followed. Wigg winced.
"I can't understand why you want to go back down there alone, Wirst Fizard," he said numbly. "And with an empty canteen, of all things."
Wigg gave him a wink. "Wirst Fizard's business," he said. "I should be back before the Jin'Sai and his new bride awaken. If anyone asks, tell them the truth-that I went for a walk. When I return, the three of us will need an escort back to Master Faegan's portal. We must arrive there by high noon, when it is due to open."
Alrik tried to click his heels, but almost fell down. Clutching at Wigg's robe, he did his best to straighten up. His breath was awful. Wigg averted his face.
"I live to serve," Alrik said.
Turning awkwardly, the warrior walked back down the hall. The wizard smiled as he heard Alrik begin to belt out yet another Minion drinking song. The singing soon faded away.
Wigg pointed one hand toward the dark passageway and brought the radiance stones to light. Then he reached under his robe to make sure that the rolled-up parchment was still there.
He was tired, and the walk down and back would be a long one. He didn't relish going but knew it had to be done. The idea had come to him during the celebration. He wanted to take something of this place back to Eutracia with him, something that he thought would be of help-especially if things were about to become as serious as he feared. Taking a deep breath, he started down.
He was very pleased that Tristan and Celeste had married. But his heart was troubled over his daughter's worsening condition. He could see the changes rapidly taking place, and it was breaking his heart.
He had much to worry him. Jessamay had told him all she knew about the Well of Forestallments, but it wasn't much. The two of them had pored over parts of Failee's grimoire to learn the secret of Jessamay's altered blood signature, an aberration they were sure was of immense importance to the craft. And in his heart he was equally sure that the Orb of the Vigors continued its rampage across Eutracia. He could only hope that Faegan and the other members of the Conclave were having a better time of things.
He shook his head. It was all such a great riddle-the craft, Eutracia, Parthalon, the two orbs, and most certainly the possibility of Wulfgar's survival. Some of these puzzles were new, and some far, far older than he. He had already lived for more than three hundred years, been instrumental in the victory in the Sorceresses' War, and personally overseen the births of the Jin'Sai and the Jin'Saiou. Even so, sometimes he felt much more like a pawn in this amazing confluence of riddles than he did a figure of any great importance.
He finally reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the first room. The silence was deafening. He stopped in the second room and looked around. He was relieved to see that everything was as he hoped it would be.
He produced the parchment and read aloud the incantation recorded on it in Old Eutracian, copied from Failee's grimoire.
A haunting azure cloud began to form in the air before him. When he finished the recitation, he rolled up the parchment and put it away.
Closing his eyes for a moment, the First Wizard took a deep breath. This would have to be done very carefully. He removed the canteen from around his neck.
The cloud beside him, Wigg set about his work.
CHAPTER LVI
"Bind his hands," Abbey ordered. "we can't afford to trust him."
She looked respectfully at the two Minion warriors who had volunteered to enter the maze with the Valrenkian. Many had stepped forward; choosing two who might well be going to their deaths in the maze had not been a pleasant task. She hadn't been around their race for long, but she knew one thing for certain: the Minion warriors-both the males and the females-were the bravest, most selfless souls she had ever encountered.
Sister Adrian stood next to her before the entrance to the bluffs. Wall torches lit the hall into the maze, their combined glow streaming out of the square-cut entrance and into the night. The Minion phalanx that had accompanied the two women to Valrenkium stood nearby, watching, alert.
One of the warriors bound Uther's hand behind him. The Valrenkian seethed quietly.
When Abbey was satisfied that Uther was bound securely, she called for an unlit torch. A warrior came running with one and she handed it to the first of the volunteers.
"The torches in the maze are supposedly enchanted to burn forever," she said, "and Uther cannot use the craft. But take this along, just in case. Do you have flint and steel?''
The warrior nodded.
"Then it's time to go. Faegan and your fellow troops await you on the other side. Don't forget to make a distinct mark on the wall at every turn." She gently touched each Minion on the arm. "May the Afterlife be with you both."
The two volunteers nodded. With a dark smile, the first drew his dreggan and placed the tip against Uther's back.
"Move," he ordered gruffly.
But Uther turned to look at Abbey and Adrian. "Goodbye, you bitches of the Vigors," he snarled. "When we meet in the Afterlife, beware of me. I'll be waiting."
Abbey hesitated for a moment. Uther's words were unsettling-even more, she thought, than he intended them to be-but there could be no turning back now.
"If for any reason he refuses to do as he's told, kill him," she told the warriors.
The one holding the dreggan nodded. Then he poked Uther in the back, and the three of them entered the maze.
Abbey and Adrian walked to the entrance and watched the Valrenkian and the warriors grow smaller as they headed down the wide, high tunnel. When they arrived at the first intersection, Uther turned right. Nothing happened. The warrior without the sword used his dagger to mark the wall, and all three disappeared around the corner.
Adrian looked anxiously over at the herbmistress. "Is this really going to work?" she asked.
Abbey shook her head. "I have no idea. But it's too late to second-guess ourselves now." She cast her gaze toward the litter nearby. "Time for us to go back to Faegan," she said. Then she thought for a moment.
"Leave a dozen warriors here," she ordered Ottikar. "If Uther should somehow come back out the way he went in, I want him intercepted."