Orienting on the archway with the carving, the ghost extended three wispy fingers and flicked his hand in a downward motion, as if it was scratching similar marks on the air. The space beyond the doorway changed.
It was still a tunnel, but it forked just a few strides in, whereas before, there had only been one passage receding until a dogleg bent it out of sight.
Nor was that the only change. Since there were no lights shining anywhere nearby, it mocked common sense to suggest that the passage was blacker than it had been before. Yet it was. The idea, the essence of darkness crawled and festered there so thickly that even Dai Shan s magically enhanced sight had difficulty making out the details of the morbid carvings that adorned the walls in bewildering profusion.
The ghost led its charges through the arch and repeated the cat-scratch gesture. As quickly as it had changed before, the passage reverted to its original condition, and those who had entered it disappeared.
Dai Shan gave his head a tiny shake. When he d wondered if Falconer and his peers might have a secret means of escape, he d been wiser than he knew. And such being the case, perhaps he could accomplish something more much more! than mere reconnaissance, if only he didn t run out of time.
He waited another moment, making sure that the ghost and the witches weren t coming back. Then he approached the arch and tried the scratching motion for himself.
Across the myriad nightmare worlds that made up the Abyss, manes were the lowest form of demon. They were slaves or prey to all the others, waddling, bloated child-sized things with maggots squirming in their open sores. Aoth never beheld one without recalling how Szass Tam had disposed of Nevron by turning him into a mane, a supremely ignominious end for Thay s preeminent master of fiends.
Maybe it was that flicker of memory that slowed his reactions, for by the time he had aimed his spear, Jhesrhi was already hurling bright yellow flame from her staff. Wreathed in fire like the wizard herself, the several tanar ri fell down, screaming and writhing.
Aoth supposed that left him to account for the Nar demonbinder who d summoned the creatures. Taking care not to trip over a burning mane, or let one roll and flounder into him, he rushed the undead figure with the staff in its flaking, tattooed hands and the big round iron amulet dangling from its withered neck. Cera and a couple of the stag warriors raced after him.
Somewhat to Aoth s surprise, the Nar didn t try to call up a new fiend. It simply swung its staff in a sweeping blow instead. Aoth simultaneously blocked with his targe, charged his spear with lightning, and thrust it into the walking corpse s chest. The resulting flash and bang tore its torso apart, and it fell backward. The stag warriors hacked at it anyway. They d learned that undead and trolls sometimes needed a lot of killing.
Still, that one was rather clearly finished. Cera, the front of her bandages stained rusty brown, peered down at the remains. Breathing hard, she said, That was pretty easy.
Aoth frowned. It was, wasn t it? he said. And after all the hard fighting they d done to get so far, he supposed he should be grateful. Still, something about it nagged at him, and he tried to figure out what.
A sudden baritone voice speaking with a cultured Shou accent distracted him from his pondering. Captain Fezim, it said.
Surprised, Aoth pivoted to see Dai Shan advancing into the golden glow of Cera s conjured sunlight. Clad in his customary green coat, the little merchant was so immaculately groomed that he would have cut a strange figure on any battleground, let alone in a warren infested with the vilest creatures in Rashemen.
Nor were his cleanliness and neatness the strangest things about his sudden appearance. What are you doing here? Aoth demanded.
The Shou bowed. The shrewd war mage cuts to the heart of the matter as incisively as I would have expected, he said.
As you may recall, I too possess some knowledge of the occult arts. My explorations revealed that the hathrans quest had led you and your dauntless allies to the Fortress of the Half-Demon. So naturally, since the undertaking is mine as well, I rushed here by sorcerous means to assist however I can.
Aoth snorted and said, In other words, to stake your claim to at least a couple griffons if you possibly can.
Dai Shan turned up his well-tended hands. Sympathetic as I am to the difficulties of our Rashemi hosts, I confess that my motives aren t entirely altruistic, he said. Perhaps, if pressed, even the most valorous of mercenaries might admit the same.
Fair enough, said Aoth. But you re too late to dip your mug in this particular barrel. We don t need you. It s all over but the cleanup.
Then I congratulate you, said Dai Shan. Still, hearing that matters have advanced as far as you say, I find myself puzzled over the particular group of undead I sighted proceeding down a certain passage. From their demeanor no less than their gear, I assumed them to be powerful creatures of high rank. Enemies one would wish to destroy before proclaiming the current menace ended for good and all.
Did you see a big thing that looked stitched together from pieces of different bodies? Cera asked. Or a witch in a tarnished silver mask? She would have been carrying a staff with antlers on the end.
Dai Shan gave a little nod. In fact, wise daughter of the sun, he said, that s exactly whom I saw. Those two and three others.
Aoth s mouth tightened. He didn t much fancy partnering up with such a glib little eel, but he d fought alongside worse in his time. If you lead us to the creatures, maybe we can spare you a griffon or two, he said. Failing that, we ll pay you somehow.
So be it, replied the Shou. And now that we ve negotiated that, may I recommend haste? We wouldn t want the foe to stray too far from the location where I observed them.
One moment, Jhesrhi said. Extinguishing her mantle of flame, she stepped to the wall and placed her fingertips against it. Aoth knew she was talking to the stone all around them, finding out where the other squads were and how they were faring.
Jhesrhi turned back around. Everything seems to be under control, she said.
Good, Aoth replied, looking at Dai Shan. Now we can go.
The Shou led them along a twisting route through vaults and passages that echoed with the cries and clatter of conflict. Watching for signs of trouble, Aoth had to admire the ease with which Dai Shan negotiated the labyrinth, assuming the trader wasn t lost.
With their bells silenced, and their cloven hooves clicking on the floor, eight stag warriors paced in a line behind their human comrades. Aoth wondered how much they understood what was happening and decided he d likely never know. In their mute inscrutability, they seemed emblematic of the entire fey- and spirit-ridden country.
Another turn brought an archway into view and drove such reflections from his mind as he grunted in surprise.
Dai Shan looked back at him. Is something wrong, intrepid captain? he asked.
Not wrong, said Aoth, but interesting. Cera and I saw three notches just like that cut at the top of an arch in the tomb back in the sacred grove.
The same crypts, Dai Shan said, from which, you said, the durthans and werewolves seemingly emerged even though you d established they were empty.
Yes, replied Aoth.
Well, it gratifies me to be in a position to solve that particular puzzle for you, said the Shou. Watch the arch while I recite the words I heard the scarred creature say.
In the name of the Vaunted, the Staff-Bearer, the Lord of the Forsaken Crypt, open.
The space beyond the opening changed. What had been one passage until it doglegged out of sight divided into two. What had been featureless walls suddenly sported intricate carvings like fungus grown in an instant: a bewildering hodgepodge of skulls, skeletons, weeping mourners, flowers, wreaths, sunsets, and souls standing before their gods for judgment. Moreover, a nasty-looking darkness resisted the illumination of Cera s conjured sunlight. It reminded Aoth of Gaedynn and Jhesrhi s description of the Shadowfell, and he suspected that was exactly what he was looking at. Or, if not Shadow itself, a demiplane derived from it.