Tulgord Vise stopped to drag Brash to his feet. ‘Stop being so clumsy, poet.’
‘Don’t let them kill me,’ whimpered Brash.
The Mortal Sword said, ‘Fear not, while I live. After all, a world without poets, sir, would be … would be … er, far less clumsy.’
‘But—’
‘Get moving and start acting like a man or I’ll kill you myself.’
‘You’re all awful,’ Brash Phluster hissed as he clambered his way up the steps. ‘My epic poem won’t lie about any of you! By the time I’m done The Nehemothenai, the audience will be cheering for the fucking necromancers!’
Hearing that, Apto twisted round, ‘Now you’re talking!’
Lurma Spilibus gently turned the latch and edged open the heavy door. A ribbon of light cut into the corridor, making everyone tense. She squeezed one eye into the crack, and then leaned back again, rubbing at that eye.
Plaintly whispered, ‘What did you see?’
‘A very narrow guard room. I couldn’t see the walls but what I saw was empty. Except for the bits of flesh and bone and hair and ripped-up clothing.’
‘Anyone see you?’ Le Groutt asked.
‘No,’ said Lurma, ‘I just told you.’
Plaintly nodded. ‘Bits of flesh and bone and hair and ripped-up clothing.’
‘That’s what I said, isn’t it? Bits of—’
‘That must’ve been some party,’ said Symon The Knife.
‘Granma’s wake was a damned good party,’ said Mortari, ‘even though she was just missing, but it’d been weeks and nobody takes that long drawing water from the well at the back of the yard. So we decided she was dead, and that was fair, wasn’t it? And then, months later, I bumped right into her. In the well, I mean, with all those cats with their tails all tied together.’
Gesturing, Plaintly said, ‘Go on, Lurma, check it out.’
But Lurma hesitated. ‘Could be traps.’
‘What kind of traps?’
‘If I knew that they wouldn’t be much good as traps, would they? No, leave this to me. Everyone else stay here, and be quiet while I check it out.’
‘Good idea,’ said Plaintly.
They remained crouched in the corridor, as Lurma Spilibus pushed the door open a bit more, and then slipped sideways into the guard room. A moment later her head popped back into view. ‘It’s wider that it was before, the room.’
‘Anything else?’ Plaintly asked.
‘Wait.’ The head popped out of sight again, and then they heard, ‘Two doors in the opposite wall, identical, both ajar.’
‘Room for all of us in there?’ Plaintly asked.
A hand appeared and waved them in.
They quickly entered the guard room, and then stood around, amidst a knocked-over wooden table, shattered chairs, broken plates, dented tankards, bent knives and snapped swords, and an abattoir’s worth of chopped-up meat and bone along with clumps of shredded, sodden clothing. Six crushed heads were piled up against a wall, along with twelve or so severed feet still wearing an assortment of cheap footwear.
Symon drew his knife. ‘Should I check for survivors?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Plaintly, ‘I think it’s too late for any of these ones.’
‘What do you think happened?’ Le Groutt asked, his eyes slightly wild.
‘That demon,’ said Plaintly.
‘The squirting one?’ Symon then shook his head. ‘Not a chance. That thing ran from us. It wasn’t much taller than Mortari here.’
‘Assuming I’m Mortari,’ said Mortari.
‘Well, who else would you be?’
‘I don’t know. It’s a mystery.’
‘Lurma,’ said Barunko, ‘more pee, please.’
‘Listen,’ said Plaintly, raising a hand to draw everyone’s attention, ‘something’s wrong here.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Le Groutt.
‘Well, there was that demon, and now this room full of guards who’ve been torn to bits. It doesn’t feel right. You all know to trust my instincts, and I’m saying …’ she shook her head, ‘the sooner we find the Head of the Thieves Guild and get out of here, the better.’
‘So where do you think she is?’ Lurma asked. ‘Plaintly?’
‘Plaintly’s right here,’ said Le Groutt. ‘I’m looking at her, in fact.’
‘Lurma meant our Mistress,’ explained Plaintly, ‘and I’m thinking in the cells down the hall, through that door there.’
‘Which one?’ Lurma asked.
‘There’s only one,’ Plaintly said.
‘What? I saw – oh, look at that! Only one door! The other one’s vanished! I told you there were traps in here!’
‘What kind of trap is a disappearing door?’ Symon demanded.
‘The kind that makes you go through the other one, of course. You’d better let me check it out first.’
‘Symon,’ said Mortari, ‘let me borrow your knife.’
‘What? Now?’
‘Just for a moment, I promise.’
Symon handed over his knife. Mortari took it and popped the massive bulbous swelling projecting out from his temple. A stream of pink goo gushed out. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That’s better.’ He handed the knife back, and then smiled his thanks at Symon.
A slimy puddle was fast forming on the floor at Mortari’s feet.
Lurma stared down at it. ‘You’re going to clean that up, aren’t you, Mortari?’
‘Of course I am! On our way back, though. Anyone got a handkerchief we can throw over it in the meantime? Don’t want any cat drowning in it or anything.’
‘You’re still leaking everywhere!’ said Lurma. ‘It’s disgusting!’
‘Everybody’s squirted but me,’ said Barunko, his lower lip trembling.
Plaintly moved close to The Muscle. ‘It’s all right, Barunko. You’ll get your turn.’
‘Really?’
‘I promise,’ said Plaintly, who then turned back to Lurma and gestured her towards the door.
Nodding, Lurma edged closer. She approached the door from one side, and then darted across to come at it from the other side. She reached the wall beside it and fumbled at the gore-spattered stones for a moment, before her fingers brushed the edge of the door and then she grasped it and pushed it open. Glanced through and then back. ‘A corridor,’ she whispered. ‘Cell doors on both sides, all broken open.’
‘And the other end?’ Plaintly asked.
Lurma looked again. ‘Two more doors.’
‘Two?’
She looked back. ‘One.’
‘Just one? Are you sure?’
‘Hold it, uhm, yes, the other one’s vanished, just like the one in this room!’
‘Is that one door busted open too?’ Plaintly asked.
‘Let’s see,’ said Lurma, looking yet again. ‘No. But it’s hanging from just one hinge.’
Symon grunted. ‘Sounds busted to me.’
‘That’s because you can’t see what I see,’ Lurma snapped. ‘I can see the latches. There’s two of them and both look to be in perfect working condition. I’d have to pick them both if the door wasn’t hanging from just one bent hinge. So don’t go telling me my business, Symondenalian!’
‘Sorry, Lurma,’ said Symon. ‘I’m just nervous, and why wouldn’t I be, since I’m the only one armed, meaning you’re all relying on me to cut through whatever comes at us. And that’s my business, Lurma, so shut up about it!’
‘All our talents are meshing perfectly,’ said Plaintly. ‘Okay, Lurma. Great work. Let’s go check those open cells.’
‘Cells? Who arrested me? I ain’t going – oh, don’t arrest me!’ Barunko burst into tears.
Ophal glanced at the king’s manservant, who wandered off to one side to pour himself a massive tankard of wine. He quickly downed three mouthfuls. Stood blinking, linking his lips, only to suddenly totter, reaching out to lean against the wall. Then he smiled, as if at some private joke.