“We need to get off this,” Kall said, noting the frayed ends of the rope looped around three nearby stalagmites. “The rope won’t hold all of us.”
“Meisha didn’t mention a death trap’d be waiting for us,” Morgan said.
“This was probably her work.” Kall helped Garavin lift Borl out of the tangled ropes. “Without it, we’d be at the bottom of the chasm.”
“Still could’ve warned us,” Morgan grumbled.
Kall waited until they were all off the net. Using his sword, he hacked the ropes free from the stalagmites. The net sailed down into the darkness.
“The Shadow Thieves will have ways to avoid the chasm,” Dantane pointed out.
“Now they’ll have to use them,” Kall said. He turned to Garavin. “What about it, old friend? Are we in the right place?”
The dwarf examined the cavern walls, clasping his holy symbol reflexively. “Aye, lad,” he said. His voice sounded unnaturally thick. “We’re here.” He turned to look at Kall earnestly. “Dumathoin is here too.”
Kall and Laerin exchanged glances. “What do you mean?” asked the half-elf.
“Where do ye feel most at peace, Laerin—closest to yer god?” asked the dwarf.
“In Erevan’s grove or Dugmaren’s tunnels,” answered Laerin.
“This is Dumathoin’s place,” said Garavin. “But it’s been tainted.”
“He’s right,” said Dantane. The wizard closed his eyes. He appeared to be listening, though Kall detected nothing breaking the stillness but the distant sound of water. “There’s some sort of distant aura in effect.”
“Meisha’s master lived in the Delve,” said Kall. “Could it be some latent magic of his?”
“I don’t think so,” said Dantane, “not unless her master was of another plane.”
“Meisha was trained as an elementalist,” said Garavin. “Might be there’s links to the elemental planes here.”
“Kall,” Morgan said abruptly, “we’re not alone.”
Kall turned. A child stood in the opening of the clear tunnel, watching them with wide, fearful eyes. Her face was pale and thin, almost emaciated. Kall took a step toward her, but she darted off down the tunnel.
“The refugees,” said Laerin. “Do we follow?”
Kall nodded. “Light two torches. Keep your weapons out but down. We have to find Meisha.”
“Kall.” Dantane pointed to the other tunnel branching off the chamber. The net strung over its mouth glistened in the torchlight. A thick, mucuslike substance dripped from the ropes, collecting in black puddles on the floor. “Something’s coming.” Kall heard it—the sound of air rushing up the too-narrow tunnel. Next to him, Borl growled from the gut, shifting agitatedly. “Get away from the net,” he snapped as Dantane bent to examine the black drippings.
The wizard ducked away as a leathery wing swiped at him. Twin lines of needle-teeth bit down directly in front of his face. The bat screamed as the black substance filled its mouth and foamed. It fluttered back against a wall of a dozen or more creatures just like it. Their wings tangled in the small space, causing them to snap indiscriminately at each other.
“The Shadow Thieves?” Laerin said. “Or are these meant for us?”
“I don’t know,” Kall said. “But we’re not going that way. We follow the girl.” He looked at Dantane. “You have the portal key? ”
Dantane touched a pouch hidden in his robes. Within, he’d placed the oblong stone that activated the portal from this side of the Delve. Rays had kept his word.
“It will be safe,” Dantane said.
Kall nodded. He and Laerin led the way down the open tunnel. Dantane, Morgan, and Garavin brought up the rear. Once out of the spell light of the portal room, the tunnel became stygian. The torches cast a glow in front and behind their group but made the air close and smoky. Kall couldn’t imagine being trapped in the enclosed space for any length of time, as the refugees had been. It would have driven him mad.
The passage turned, weaving in a snakelike pattern for several yards without changing direction. Laerin pointed to the ground, where scuffed imprints of bare feet were clearly visible, even in the wavering torch light. “She won’t be hard to track.”
Frowning, Kall held up a hand for the group to pause. He listened. “Why don’t we hear her running?”
“Maybe she’s hiding,” Laerin suggested. “We won’t hurt you, little one,” he called out down the tunnel.
Far off, Kall thought he heard a whimper. “Let’s go.”
The tunnel angled gradually, and at an intersection, Laerin guided them to the right. The tunnel dipped, forcing them to crouch and move single file.
“She’s smart,” said Morgan. “She knows we’ll catch up to her on open ground. She’s looking for a mouse hole.”
The passage turned again, and finally Kall could stand upright. He shone the torch ahead and stopped, holding back Laerin and the others when he saw the girl.
She stood at the cusp of a second intersection, as if unsure which path to take. She swiveled her head to look back. Her eyes widened when she saw Kall, and she started to dart away.
“Don’t!” Laerin shouted, springing forward.
The girl flinched. Kall saw her foot slide forward and heard the pressure plate click. The half-elf’s sharper vision had seen the trap even in the shadows.
Laerin snagged the girl by the waist and pulled her to the ground beneath him. Above their heads, a spear burst from a hole in the tunnel wall, shooting across the intersection to ricochet off stone.
“Are you all right?” Kall asked. He started to move forward, but Laerin held out a staying hand.
“Let Morgan check the intersection first,” he said.
Kall gave Morgan the torch, waiting while the rogue checked the walls and floor for more spear holes. Laerin kept a protective arm around the girl, but Kall saw him wiggle his eyebrows and whisper something to her that made her laugh. After that, her face lost much of its fear. The scene reminded Kall of how easily the half-elf had drawn him out, when he’d been a frightened boy in Mir.
He turned to Dantane. “We can’t take time to check all the walls. We need a barrier.”
The wizard considered the tunnel wall where the spear had originated. He touched the stone and began a clipped chant.
A chill breeze funneled down the passage, tugging at Kall’s hair. Dantane’s breath fogged and the veins on the backs of his hands turned a sickly yellow-blue. The red flesh beneath his fingernails bled white. All of a sudden, he stopped speaking and slapped the wall with his open palm.
The sound was that of an ice-covered branch cracking against stone. Kall half-expected the wizard’s hand to shatter, but it did not. A sheet of ice spider-webbed from his fingers, the frozen strands shooting down the tunnel and thickening, filling in the gaps until the entire wall shone white.
“That should hold anything that comes from the wall,” Dantane said.
“Floor’s clear,” Morgan added, helping Laerin to his feet.
“Can you take us to Meisha?” Kall asked, crouching in front of the girl. Her eyes shifted to the torch in his hand, and Kall chuckled. “That’s her—fire.”
The girl nodded, and Kall set off again, keeping her just behind his hip as they walked along the passage. The tunnel stayed straight, and at the end of it, Kall didn’t have to ask if they were close. He could see by the moisture dripping from Dantane’s ice wall.
They entered a deep chamber with a high ceiling. A pillar of brilliant flame stood in the center of the room, lighting it to every corner. Meisha stood within the fire column, her hands clasped together against her chest.
“She’s killing herself,” breathed Dantane in fascination.
A hearty snort echoed in the chamber. “Not hardly.”
Kall turned to see a boy of about eighteen or nineteen enter the chamber from an adjoining tunnel. He was as thin as the little girl, but his eyes held no fear, only defiance as he stared Kall down. “She just finished herding the last of ’em,” he said. “Who’re you?”