"I doubt that you suffer from your lack, Karag," Shandiph remarked. "After all, you have the run of the Baron of Sland's castle and staff, don't you?"
"More or less," Karag admitted. "I can command the household workers, but have no authority over the guards."
The conversation was cut off by the arrival of Deriams retainers. He sent one to fetch food and drink, another to bring the keys to the cellars, and the third and last to take a polite greeting to the Overlord and tell him that his faithful Deriam had returned but was resting from the journey and not to be disturbed.
The three vanished without comment on their various errands, and the four wizards settled down to await the promised meal. "We shouldn't take the time;" Shandiph said, "but I'm hungry."
"Yes, and cold and thirsty as well," Thetheru added.
While waiting, the newcomers looked over Deriam's parlor. It was lush to the point of ostentation, with thick patterned carpets overlapping to cover every inch of floor, rich tapestries covering every wall, and ornate carved frames around every door and window. The furnishings included a myriad of cushions of silk and velvet and an assortment of tables, chairs, pedestals, statuettes, display shelves, bric-a-brac, and general clutter, every item made of costly materials and showing elaborate workmanship. A few of the cushions had old stains on them, and one carving of a handsome young couple was chipped through the woman's arm.
When the servant he had sent for the keys delivered them, Deriam sent the youth after as many lanterns and torches as could be found-in the house. "We'll need light in the crypts," he explained, "and there's no sense in wasting magic."
The food, when it arrived, consisted of a plate of fruit, nuts, and cakes; the drink was a decanter of yellow wine and a steaming pitcher of a brownish liquid Karag and Thetheru did not recognize.
"A discovery of my own," Deriam explained with an air of patently false modesty. "It's an infusion of herbs and spices in boiling water and it's really quite invigorating. Try it."
Karag refused the unfamiliar brew and confined himself to cakes and wine; Thetheru took a cup of the steaming concoction and an assortment of fruit and pronounced both to be good.
Both wine and herbal brew were warming and felt so good to the weary travelers that they made no effort to silence Deriam when he began a long description of the history of the crypts.
"They aren't exactly crypts in the usual sense of burial vaults or areas for underground storage," he said. "They're actually another city that used to stand on this same site. Ur-Dormulk, you see, is the most ancient city in all the world and has stood here for longer than any records have existed. It was once called Stur-dar-Malik, which means `City of the Old Ones' in the language of the time. Even then it was old. The most learned scholars in the city, who are of course the wisest and most learned in the world, say that there must once have been a great catastrophe that destroyed much of the city, and the survivors built the new city upon the ruins without bothering to excavate them. The old cellars and passages were forgotten for centuries, until finally someone broke into them while digging a new wine cellar. That was, I have heard, in the Eleventh Age, about four thousand years ago. Since then they have been explored and extended and elaborated, until now they are so complex that no man living knows them all-and I personally doubt that anyone ever did. They reach under every corner of the city and extend out beyond the walls for miles in every direction, as well as continuing quite deeply down into the earth. There are said to be many strange and wondrous things in them, and there are tales of men and women who have become lost down there only to be preserved by the unnatural powers that lurk in the darkness, to wander about forever."
"That's a cheering thought," Thetheru said.
"Oh, it's just a legend," Shandiph replied.
"We thought that the great old magicks were just a legend," Thetheru returned.
"If the crypts are so extensive, how can we hope to find these magicks we seek?" Karag asked.
"There are signs," Shandiph replied.
"Signs? You mean that these carefully hidden things, too dangerous to leave where they might be misused, can be found by following signposts?"
"Not exactly. The signs can only be read by means of an enchanted glass."
"Where do we find this glass, then?"
Shandiph reached down to a pouch on his belt. "It's right here," he answered.
"Let me see it," Karag asked.
"Not yet," Shandiph replied.
Karag started to protest, then caught sight of Thetheru's smile and thought better of it.
They finished their repast in silence. As Deriam drank the last of the wine, his servant reappeared with a double armful of prepared torches and with four lanterns.
The torches were distributed evenly among the four wizards. Karag suggested that Deriam's servants accompany them, but Deriam overruled the notion immediately. "That is beyond their duties," he explained.
"Besides, we want to keep the whole thing secret," Shandiph added.
Accordingly, the servants stayed where they were, while the wizards made their way through Deriam's kitchen and down the stairs into his wine cellars. From there they descended another flight into a fruit cellar, where a trap door opened to reveal a ladder leading down into utter darkness. The light of the lanterns did not reach the bottom.
With the torches bundled on their backs, the four descended, Karag first, followed by Deriam, Shandiph, and Thetheru. The ladder swayed beneath their weight but did not break or fall. After what seemed an incredibly long time, they finally came in sight of the bottom.
When they stepped from the ladder, they found themselves on a flagstone floor buried in a thick layer of dust. At Shandiph's suggestion they lit one torch apiece to provide additional light.
They were in an immense chamber of stone; their footsteps echoed from the bare walls, which even the light of torches and lanterns combined revealed only as vague and distant patches amid the all-encompassing darkness. Three of the four stared about in uneasy surprise at the room's extent; Deriam remarked casually, "I haven't been down here in a long, long time; I'd forgotten just how big it is."
"Where's the door to the crypts?" Karag asked.
"We are in the crypts, Karag," Deriam replied. "This chamber has a dozen doors opening on various rooms and passages."
"Which way do we go?" Thetheru asked.
"I haven't any idea," Deriam answered.
Shandiph carefully placed his torch and lantern on the stone floor and fumbled with the pouch on his belt. He brought out a small sphere of yellow glass and held it up to his eye.
After a long moment he said, "I see nothing."
"What do we do now?" Thetheru asked.
"Pick a direction at random," Karag suggested.
Deriam shrugged, and led the party to the wall of the room, choosing his route by walking forward in the direction he happened to be facing.
The wall was bare stone and faintly dusty.
"Now," Deriam said, "I propose that we walk along the wall until we find one of the signs Shandiph mentioned."
No one objected, and the foursome moved along the wall.
Almost immediately, they came to an open doorway; Deriam looked at Shandiph, who shook his head. They moved on.
A second doorway was passed, and a corner of the room. At the third doorway Shandiph asked, "Does the pentacle above the door mean anything?"
"What pentacle?" Thetheru asked, holding up his lantern. The stone lintel was blank.