Gale stared expressionlessly into the little man's eyes. Again he made no reply. He could make no promises. If an opportunity to fight Yrsillar presented itself- here or back on their plane-he would not pass it up, not unless it meant putting Jak in unnecessary danger.
Seeing his expression, the little man apparently understood his resolve. He released Gale's arm. "I'm with you either way, though," he said with a sigh.
Gale tried to reassure him. "I want to find a way back too, little man. I also want Yrsillar dead. Ill try not to let the one get in the way of the other."
Jak seemed to accept that. "I want him dead too, Gale." He hesitated a moment before adding, "If we kill him on his own plane, he's dead forever."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that if we kill him on our plane, we only kill his manifestation there. That doesn't really kill him. It just prevents.him from returning to our plane for a century or so. But if we kill him here…"
"We kill him for real and forever," Gale finished.
Jak nodded. "But it's harder, Gale, much harder. Like I said, he'd be more powerful here, not as easy as that shadow demon you killed before going through the gate."
Gale leaned against the wall while he digested the information. It probably did not matter much. He had no reason to think that Yrsillar moved back and forth between this plane and their home plane. This guild-house was probably empty. They had to find a gate back. •;.
"What will a gate back look like?"
Jak shook his head. "I don't know for sure. But I think well know it when we see it"
Gate gave a nod, and with that, they descended the rest of the stairway. When they reached the archway to the main hall, Gale stopped short and peeked around the corner. Jak squirmed between his body and the wall and did the same. Their simultaneous intake of breath was as sharp as a blade, but neither could look away.
As would have been the case with'lhe main hallway in the real guildhouse, the hallway here stretched left to the shrine and right to the storeroom. Doors dotted the walls, some open, but most were closed. No garbage littered the floor here, and the smooth, unwarped floor was bare except for some twenty or so indistinct gray forms.
Positioned at intervals along the hallway, they crouched low to the ground as though hiding behind something Gale couldn't see. If not for their occasional movement, he would have thought them an illusion, a trick of his eyes in the twilight. Bat they did move, and they were real.
Composed of swirling gray vapor, Gale could distinguish no facial features, could barely make out the rudiments of a man-sized bipedal form. The beings waited in absolute silence. Though Gale and Jak stared in amazement, the beings showed no signs of having seen them.
Abruptly one stood and loped back down the hall toward another pair that flanked the shrine doors.
It loped.
Gate recognized the movement. His eyes narrowed.
Jak must have sensed his sudden tension, for he asked in a whisper, "What are they?"
Afraid one of the creatures would hear, Gale grabbed Jak by the collar and ducked back behind the archway.
"Ghouls," Gale replied in a whisper. He held his blade ready and kept his ears attuned for the sounds of the approaching pack.
Rather than fear, Jak looked at him with a furrowed brow. "Ghouls? Those aren't ghouls." He peeked iwwk around the corner. Gale did too.
"Wait until one moves," Gale said.There."One of the figures rose andosssed the halL Though indistinct and vaporous, Gale couldn't mistake its low crouch, hunched back, and loping stride. Neither did Jak. The little man gave a start and both again retreated into the archway.
"Trickster's toes," Jaksoftly oathed.
"What kind of ghouls are those?" Gale hissed. "What is going on here?"
Jak looked as dumbfounded as Gale. "Let me think," he replied softly, and stroked his whiskers. "Let me think."
While Jak considered, Gale looked into the hall and kept his eyes on the misty forms of the ghouls. He did a headcount, twenty-six, all of them crouching low, all of them trying to hide in plain sight. Gale began to work through the rudiments of an attack. Though he could not distinguish features, he felt certain that some of the ghostly ghouls looked right at him. Yet none moved to attack. Their unnatural silence sent a chill up his spine. He ducked back. There was nothing to do but to attack head-on.
"It's like they're waiting to ambush us," he said to Jak, and readied himself for a charge.
Gale had anticipated an ambush in the guildhouse basement-in the real guildhouse basement-but he hadn't expected so many ghouls. Between the battle at Stormweather and Gale's necklace of missiles, Gale figured over thirty already had been killed. The Night Knives had numbered no more than forty men all told. Yrsillar must have transformed more Selgauntans into ghouls than just the Night Knives. He shuddered to think of what might have happened at Storm-weather if the attack had succeeded, if he had not driven off the shadow demon.
They are waiting for us," Jak suddenly exclaimed, and snapped his fingers.
"Quiet," Gale hissed, and looked in alarm around the corner. Except for an occasional shift of position, the ghouls hadn't moved.
They can't hear us," Jak said aloud. "And they can't see us either."
Before Gale could stop him, the little man stepped brazenly out into the hallway. Cursing, Gale leaped out beside him, blade ready for the swarming pack.
The ghouls showed no sign of noticing anything amiss. Though Gale and Jak stood in plain sight, they continued to crouch and wait.
With one eye still on the misty ghouls, Gale looked to the little man.
They're like the shadow demon, Gale, but in reverse. This vapor shape is their manifestation on this plane. Like the shadowy form of the demon is its manifestation on our plane." He stated it as though it were obvious, but Cab's confusion must have shown on his face.
"The transformation from man to ghoul must result in some sort of dual existence, part of them here, close to the Abyss, but most of them-their corporeal form- on our plane." Jak tapped his chin and went on, "But they aren't powerful like a demon, are they? No, they have a dual existence, but must not have a dual consciousness. They can't see into this plane, which means that they can't see us." He looked up, smiling. "Gale, this guildhouse must correspond to the real guildhouse. Back on our plane, these ghouls are waiting for us in the real basement, but they can't see us here in this basement." His hand went from his chin to the luckstone at his belt and he smiled broadly. "Mask isn't the only one with us tonight, Erevis. The Lady's decided to come along as well."
Gale couldn't argue. He looked around at the ghouls crouching, lurking, ignorant of their presence mere feet away. The little man's theory fit the facts. Gale could picture the ghouls' fleshy forms back on then-plane with their stinking, rotted skin, filthy claws, and vicious fangs. He realized that the ghouls crouched like this because they were hiding in the real basement, behind toppled chairs and debris that didn't manifest in the abyssal guildhouse.
They couldn't see or hear him, but he could see them. He had only one question.
"Can we kill them?"
Jak's pleased expression grew more serious at the thought of killing. "I don't know."
Gale advanced a few steps down the hallway, vengeance for Stormweather on his mind. "Only one way to find out."
Jak grabbed him around the wrist. "Wait, Gale."
Gale stopped, looked into his friend's green eyes.
The little man looked uncertain. His gaze looked past Cale to the misty ghouls. "Erevis. How can we do this? I can't fight a creature that can't defend itself."
Cale placed a hand on Jak's shoulder, "They're evil, Jak. Well do it quick and clean."