She was just about to call for a break when she heard a soft hiss from behind her. She stopped and whirled, reaching for her urgrosh. Greddark’s blade was already out, though it did not yet dance with flames.
Laven moved up to her side.
“Skraad thinks we’re being followed,” he said in a low voice, his own hand on his hilt. “A group of men; he’s not sure how many. Maybe more than us. What do you want to do?”
Xujil had come back to see what the holdup was.
“There is a side tunnel ahead that leads to a vacant cavern,” the drow offered. “It is a dead end, but it will afford us room to battle.”
Sabira pursed her lips. A corner was usually a good place for an ambush-unless the guy between you and the door had more men and more weapons at his disposal. Then it was usually a good place to die.
On the other hand, if their pursuers were in fact just another group of explorers who happened to be traveling the same direction they were, then getting out of the main tunnel would allow them to pass Sabira’s group by without being any the wiser.
“Show us,” she said to Xujil, deciding. She pulled her goggles on and switched off the lantern on her helmet, gesturing for the others to do the same. Soon the passageway was dark, lit only by the intermittent glow of fungi.
The drow was a shadow, black on black, and Sabira wouldn’t know where he was if she hadn’t been looking straight at him when she doused her light. As it was, she had trouble tracking him as he moved and followed him more by sound than by sight, a task made even harder by the noise from her fellow spelunkers.
Xujil seemed to realize her difficulty and crept back to guide her and the others into the side passage. It was a good thing too. Sabira’s eyes were playing tricks on her in the darkness; she thought she’d seen him in the main tunnel up ahead of them. If he hadn’t returned, she would have followed that imagined movement and missed the offshoot completely.
Though it was hard to determine distance in the dim green glow, the cavern Xujil led them to was larger than Sabira had expected, and filled with pudgy stalagmites. Water dripped somewhere at the cave’s unseen edges and all she could see of the ceiling were the tips of the longest stalactites.
As the others entered the cave after her, she unharnessed her shard axe and silently signaled for her companions to take up positions on either side of the entrance. She put Rahm, Greddark, Glynn, and Laven on the right, while she situated herself on the left side closest to the entrance, with Skraad, Zi, and Jester fanned out beside her. She told Xujil to take cover and stay out of the way.
And then they hunkered down and waited.
Skraad heard them first, tensing in his spot. He had his hand crossbow up and trained on the entrance. She motioned for him to hold off on any attack until they had the measure of the group following them. When hunting, it was always better to make sure the cage was full before slamming the door closed. Skraad passed the order down the line and Rahm did the same on his side of the cavern.
A moment later, Sabira could hear them too. They were disciplined and trying to be stealthy, but they were no more native to the depths than her own group was, and every so often a dislodged pebble would clatter across the stone floor or there’d be a grunt as someone slipped in a patch of moss. She had to assume there were two more for every one she heard, which meant a contingent of at least a dozen.
Not just another group of explorers, then-unless they were planning on robbing Sabira and her group of their supplies. Which wasn’t as farfetched as it might seem, considering the cutthroat nature of these expeditions, especially the “academic” ones. She’d heard it said that the only thing more deadly than a House Thuranni assassin was a scholar from Morgrave looking to publish. Considering that the person who told her that was laid up in a House Jorasco enclave after getting in that scholar’s way when he said it, she didn’t think he was being facetious.
Still, theirs wasn’t the most well-equipped group Sabira had seen getting ready to head into the depths, and there’d been better candidates logged in Caldamus’s ledger just a day or two ahead of them. While it was possible they were just some explorers looking to neutralize potential rivals, it wasn’t a hand Sabira would bet on.
Who, then? Caldamus? It was unlikely the changeling would have enough people working for him here to be able to drum up such a large party on such short notice, even masquerading as the mayor.
Brannan? Caldamus had claimed to sense hatred emanating from the Wayfinder. But even if the changeling had been telling the truth-and if he had been, it was only because he saw some personal benefit in doing so, and not because he wanted to help her-it didn’t make any sense. Brannan was all about the bottom line, and he’d make far more off of Sabira and her group if they were actually successful than if they died en route.
Another dragonmarked House that had somehow learned of the artifact she’d been sent to retrieve? She wasn’t foolish enough to imagine that spies had not infiltrated Deneith, even as far up as Breven’s inner circle. For that matter, there were other groups outside the thirteen Houses who might have an interest in her mission, if they’d learned of it. Any of the royal families, for instance, or leaders of other nations, like the hags who ran Droaam. Even the dwarves’ Iron Council, though she rather thought they’d have approached her directly-she was technically their subject now that she’d been adopted into the Tordannon clan.
But which of those groups had enough of a local presence to launch an assault so quickly? She’d received her mission just three weeks ago, and been in Xen’drik only two. She ran through the list: Kundarak, Cannith, Phiarlan, Jorasco.
And Deneith.
Had Greigur finally decided to make his move?
But, again, it made no sense. Any of the groups interested in the artifact that Baron Breven wanted so desperately would wait for her to actually find it first and then attack her. The timing was off.
And then she had no more time to wonder. A clang of metal against stone sounded just outside the entrance to the cave. Whoever it was, they were here.
Sabira tensed, waiting for the first one to enter the cavern. She saw something sail by in the darkness, and then the world exploded in a white flash.
Temporarily blinded by the light, she heard the rush of booted feet and the clang of a crossbow bolt striking ineffectually off armor.
Then the cacophony of engagement as their enemies located the members of her group and began to attack. Greddark’s blade flamed, casting hellish shadows as the cavern walls echoed with the music of battle; the high, ringing tones of steel on steel melding with the lower, more brutal notes of steel on flesh.
A shout sounded to her left. Zi’s voice, raised in anger, and power. Suddenly, the light winked out and she could see again, albeit with white spots of light still dancing on the periphery of her vision.
A sword was hurtling down at her head and she jerked aside just in time, the blade denting and sparking off her spaulder as it slid past.
That was going to leave a bruise.
Her attacker, a tall man who looked vaguely familiar in the darkness, cursed spectacularly as he tried to recover from what he had intended to be a killing blow. Sabira took the opportunity to swat him aside with the butt of her axe, catching him in the side and sending him flying. She didn’t have time to gloat, however, for the man hadn’t been alone. His dwarf companion, shorter and earless, lunged at her with a long knife in each hand.