Finally, after another interminable moment, his captor said, "Now. Head for the stairs, as quietly as you can. No matter what happens, don't stop, don't turn around."
Pilos still didn't understand, but he didn't object as she helped him to his feet. He began to walk in the direction of the stairs, feet shuffling. His blind movements made splashing sounds like a roaring torrent in his ears.
In the distance, Pilos heard Lak shout, "Hey!" and he made the mistake of turning to peer over his shoulder. He could make out the silhouette of both Maquillon and the woman directly behind him, their outlines illuminated by the glow of the distant torch, which was growing stronger. "What are you doing back there?" the small man shouted.
"Damn," the wizard said from right behind Pilos. "Move it, you two," she muttered. "Get up those steps."
Pilos turned back to the task at hand, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest. He tried to take a few more steps, then slammed face-first into solid stone. He sat down with a grunt of pain, tasting blood on his lip and realizing that he had missed the smaller opening at the end of the tunnel. Right behind him, Quill nearly toppled over him, and the wizard collided with both of them.
"Don't stop!" she said, scrabbling around in the dark, trying to help them to their feet. "Get through the gate!"
Pilos could hear running footsteps behind them, but he was too afraid to turn around to see how close their pursuers were. Instead, he felt his way along the stone wall, sensing Quill frantically shoving him from behind. When he suddenly felt space in front of him, he darted forward, fighting against the water, which was nearly up to his knees. Three or four paces beyond the barrier, he crashed against the partially open gate, badly bruising his shoulder. He grunted in pain again as the gate creaked and swung almost completely shut. Quill bumped into him again from behind, and the man gave an urgent, almost frantic grunt, urging Pilos to keep moving.
Blessed Brightwater! Pilos thought, trying to wedge his shoulder between the gate and its frame so he could slip past it. Hold your ever-loving horses!
Finally he shifted enough to nudge the gate open and stumbled past the barrier, Quill right on his tail. Blind, Pilos continued forward until he struck the first submerged step with his toe and lost his balance, careening forward and slamming himself against the rough edges of the stairs.
Gods! the priest swore as he wailed in pain, for Quill tumbled on top of him once more, multiplying the injury. Next time, he thought miserably, you can go first.
The priest heard the harsh clang of the gate closing behind him, and he struggled to sit up and look back. Lak and Borth were perhaps thirty paces away, charging as fast as they could toward the three of them, fighting against the deepening water. The wizard was fumbling with the lock, trying to seal the barrier shut against the two men.
"Damn it, Laithe, what are you doing?" Lak demanded as he splashed along, closing the gap.
"Open that gate!" he yelled. "This isn't funny!"
Just as the wizard managed to snap the lock shut, Lak reached for her, Borth a few steps behind. The small man grabbed for the wizard but just missed her as she leaped back, out of reach. His face wedged between two of the bars of the gate, Lak stared at her, looking demonic in his rage. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but open it, now!" he snarled.
Borth reached past his companion and grabbed the bars of the gate, rattling them furiously. "Laithe," the bigger man said, a different edge to his voice. "Laithe, please unlock this gate. Whatever game you're playing, it's time to stop and let us through."
Pilos felt the water rising against him where he was still sprawled out on the steps. He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of leaving the men locked behind that gate, but he banished it. They were ready to leave us there, he reminded himself.
Laithe moved to help Pilos and Quill to their feet, removing their gags as she did so.
As soon as the wad of cloth was out of his mouth, Quill began demanding an explanation. "What's going on? Why are you helping us? Unlock these manacles!"
"Hush, Maquillon!" Laithe scolded. "Be thankful I let you come along at all," the woman said, nodding her head toward the two men, who were frantically trying to yank the gate free. "After what you did to Xaphira, I had half a mind to leave you back there with them."
"Laithe!" Lak screamed, shaking the gate with his entire body. "Laithe, please!"
The wizard studiously ignored the two men and said, "I don't think they brought the keys for those manacles, I'm sorry to say. I guess they didn't expect to need to unlock them ever again. You'll have to manage as best as you can on the stairs until we find a way to get them off." Then she turned to Pilos and said, "Can you conjure up one of those magical lights Vambran and Kovrim are so fond of? Otherwise, we'll be climbing the stairs in the dark."
Pilos gaped at the woman, realizing at last. "Hetta?" he said softly, suddenly overjoyed.
The wizard smiled. "Yes, child. It's me." And she held up her hand, showing the ruby ring on her finger. "She started playing with the ring, and I took a chance. She's trapped in the stone, mad as a hornet, but she doesn't get her body back until I say so."
"Laithe or whoever you are, please!" Lak begged.
"Hetta!" Quill gasped. "It's actually you?"
The woman turned and glared at Quill. "Yes. Now hush. I don't want to speak to you for a good long time. Now," she said, turning back to Pilos, "how about that light? Time's wasting."
"I need my coin," Pilos said, relief flooding through him and making his voice waver. "It should be in the bag with the rest of Em's and Xaphira's things."
Hetta, in Laithe's body, fetched the holy symbol from within the bag and quickly enough, Pilos enchanted it to glow with soft, pearlescent light. She hung it around his neck and they turned to climb the stairs by its illumination, leaving Lak and Borth pleading in terror not to be left behind.
Their voices echoed up the spiral stairwell for a long time after Pilos, Quill, and Hetta left them, then without warning, the echoes were gone.
The climb was awkward and painful with the chains locked about their ankles, but the threesome made steady progress to the top. The route back to the prison was not far, and the trio returned to the chamber where Pilos and Emriana had first been captured.
The mirror was gone.
"There are too many of them!" Vambran yelled, yanking his sword free from yet another twitching, quivering zombie. The undead thing dropped in a heap at his feet, but two more shuffled closer to take its place, pressing the mercenary officer back. Even more of them, visible in the glare of the magical flare he had launched to help his tiny group see and fight, swarmed around the periphery of the battle. He slashed at the nearest one and lopped its arm off, but with every swing of his sword, the blade felt heavier. "We can't keep this up!"
"We should fall back," Arbeenok said, fighting on Vambran's left. "But the path is cut off in both directions."
Behind him and to the other side, the lieutenant heard Elenthia gasp, and he risked a quick glance in her direction to see what had upset her. Though she continued to swing the light mace they had found for her to use, pounding with both hands on anything that got close, her eyes were wide with unsuppressed horror, staring at something in the gloom. He shoved his blade out, skewering the nearest zombie, and stole another quick glance away from his fight, in the direction she had been staring.