Before he could warn the Mouser, his comrade threw the doors wide, stepped over the chamber's threshold, and boldly strode inside. "Behold a wonder!" he murmured.
Frowning at his partner’s lack of caution, Fafhrd followed the Mouser inside, his gaze sweeping around, his fist closed tight around the hilt of his sword, Graywand. Even so, he caught his breath.
The small range of vision through the crack between door and wall had allowed no sense of the chamber's ancient grandeur. A domed ceiling soared overhead. Against the north wall, on a white marble dais, a huge Y-shaped altar of black obsidian stood, its once-sharp edges worn smooth. Brownish stains on the stone hinted of blood sacrifices.
Elaborately worked candelabras of purest gold stood on either side of the altar. Standing at least six feet high, the bases resembled the intertwined forms of serpents, and eight fanged serpentine mouths opened to hold the candles. Only melted stubs and wax drippings filled those gaping jaws now.
These discoveries paled, however, in comparison to the source of the slowly pulsing glow. Ten feet above the obsidian altar hung a jewel the size of Fafhrd's fist. Four rods, two of gold and two of silver, jutting from the walls at the four cardinal points, joined to form a circlet where the ruby—if such it was—perched.
"In all of Nehwon," the Mouser said, forgetting to whisper, "there can be no other stone so marvelous as this!"
Fafhrd nodded agreement. But as the Mouser walked toward the altar and climbed upon it, Fafhrd's gaze swept about the chamber again. The same black markings covered the floors and walls and ceiling of this inner chamber. Like twisted teardrops, he thought, wondering at their significance.
"Malygris doesn't seem to be home," the Mouser said, standing on the altar, staring up at the jewel. "But our effort won't be totally wasted." Replacing his dagger in its sheath, he drew his rapier and jabbed the point at the ruby to dislodge it. It lifted slightly in its resting place, then settled back again.
The wizard's name seemed to echo in the domed chamber. The sound sent a chill up Fafhrd's spine. He turned slowly, hand tightening upon his sword. "Leave it," he whispered, eyes narrowing as he drew his long blade. Some sixth sense jangled in the back of his head, and he turned. Did he detect a new glow in the outer hall? "I don't think we're alone."
The Gray Mouser seemed not to hear. "Why don't you give me a hand, you great giant?" he said without looking at Fafhrd. Jumping straight up, he thrust his rapier at the ruby again. The point scraped on the gleaming facets, and the jewel popped out of its golden circlet. For a moment, it teetered on the metal edge, threatening to fall back into its resting place. Instead, after a moment's hesitation, it tumbled into the Mouser's waiting hands.
The Mouser cried out triumphantly, his face eerily lit by the arcane gem he held.
In the same instant, the chamber's arched doors flew wide. Five armored soldiers, dressed in the livery of Lankhmar's Overlord, surged across the threshold with torches and drawn swords. A huge knight rushed Fafhrd, and gleaming steel flashed toward his head.
As Fafhrd parried the first blow, the Gray Mouser screamed, and the red light shifted wildly as his prize struck the edge of the altar and rolled across the floor. Slamming an elbow into his attacker's face and leaping back to give himself room to wield Graywand, Fafhrd risked a glance toward his comrade.
The four rods that had held the jewel whipped about like living tendrils. In an instant, they ensnared the Mouser's arms and legs, jerked him off his feet, and forced him down upon the obsidian altar.
A second soldier ran at Fafhrd, and two more tried to flank him. A fourth thrust a torch at his face; he knocked it aside, and put a boot in the man's stomach, knocking him back between the doors.
A sword rose, but before it fell the soldier that held it hesitated, his gaze going toward the ceiling. Fafhrd might have run the man through, but for a sudden vertigo that weakened his knees and sent him stumbling backward.
The chamber seemed to swirl. The black teardrops on walls and ceiling and floor began to move. A strange humming rose, soft at first, but turning angry. The arched doors slammed shut, and a short, sharp scream followed as they crushed the head of the soldier Fafhrd had sent sprawling between them.
A weird chorus of unearthly whispers swelled over the humming and the Mouser's cursing and struggling. Koh-Vombi, those ancient, rasping voices called, Koh-Vombi!
Fafhrd struggled to regain his balance. The soldiers reeled before him, their faces filled with terror. "Mouser!" Fafhrd called as he groped toward the altar where the whipping rods held his partner spread-eagled.
A ripple passed through the candelabras. Tiny red eyes snapped unnaturally open on eight serpentine faces, and gold-scaled forms untwined and collapsed to the floor. Of one will, however, the creatures undulated to the altar, and the rods forced the straining Mouser's wrists and ankles down toward wetly glittering fangs.
Koh-Vombi, called the ancient voices, Koh-Vombi!
With a mighty effort, Fafhrd lurched to the altar. Gripping Graywand's hilt in both hands, he swung the blade in a powerful arc and brought it smashing down on a golden rod. Metal rang on metal, and the force of his blow shivered up his arms. A second time, he struck the rod, and the Mouser screamed, feeling the impact in his wrist, but the rod snapped, and his left arm was free!
A flat, scaled head leered up over the side of the altar. With a shriek of near panic, the Gray Mouser snatched his rapier from his still-prisoned right hand and swung it. The creature's head flew across the chamber, spraying green ichor.
Three more swift blows freed the Mouser. The rods lashed wildly, like injured things, spraying the same horrible, warm fluid. Gathering his feet under him, the Mouser sprang from the altar, clearing the serpents by a goodly distance, and fell flat on his face among the struggling soldiers.
Fafhrd backed more slowly, carefully placing each foot, making sure of his balance. The serpents turned away from the altar to follow him. If he fell, their fangs would find him. But the chamber's swirling filled him with a senses-stealing sickness that threatened to topple him.
He dared to glance away from the serpents at the walls.
Kob- Vombi! Koh~ Vombil
The black teardrops moved like creatures in a hive. No longer flat, two-dimensional markings or bits of paint, they gleamed with a wet slime, and from the rapid beating of thin, membranous wings, issued that angry humming.
One of the Overlord's soldiers managed to rise unsteadily to his feet. Turning toward the door, intent on escape, he reeled unexpectedly to the left and fell on one of the chairs, which shattered under his weight.
A serpent came within reach of Graywand, and a second severed head splatted against the wall.
The rasping voices of unseen summoners rose in volume, chanting, Koh-Vombi!
Black teardrops leaped from the walls, filling the air with furious flight.
Something smacked wetly on Fafhrd's neck. He grabbed for it and scraped it free, even as another struck his right cheek. Opening his fist, he found a pulpy shape and a smear of blood. "Leeches!" he shouted, horrified.
Flying leeches. They attacked the soldiers, the Gray Mouser, and Fafhrd.
Ripping away the beast on his face, Fafhrd lunged for a torch that lay on the floor and waved it desperately through the air. Touched by the flames, some of the leeches exploded, but more attacked Fafhrd's hands.
Two soldiers writhed screaming on the floor. One clutched his eyes, which were crawling black masses. The other clawed frantically at his ears. Another, working with the Mouser, tried to drag the corpse of the crushed soldier from between the doors while the Mouser threw his shoulder against them. They refused to open.