“Yes, I know,” Hedrack replied, pacing again. “How bad were our losses?”
“Perhaps half, but the company exhausted a lot of magic defending themselves. The remaining forces could be regrouped.” Falrinth left the suggestion hanging.
Hedrack considered this, then shook his head. “No, let them flee. I anticipated this outcome, and I have already set into motion a contingency plan. I will have Barkinar round up the remaining troops and prepare them for the possibility, however slight, that the meddlers survive my little surprise and make their way inside.”
Falrinth nodded, although the look on his face made it clear he did not understand what Hedrack meant.
“As you wish,” the wizard said at last.
“Leave me,” Hedrack instructed. “Keep an eye on the troublemakers. I want a report of their next moves the moment you know something.”
Falrinth rose and moved toward the door. “They may very well find a way inside, you know,” the wizard said as he opened the door. “They are proving more resourceful than we anticipated.”
The high priest nodded, a half frown on his lips. “Perhaps,” he said, “and that is why Barkinar will be ready.”
Falrinth nodded and left, pulling the door shut softly behind him. Hedrack continued to stare at the closed portal a moment after the wizards departure, pondering the possibilities. Let them come, he mused. Dangerous though it was, the idea of the meddlers roaming in his halls made him lick his lips in anticipation. If they get inside, it will be all the easier to snare them and present them to Iuz.
The morning was quiet except for the sounds of labored breathing. For a moment, the Alliance stood, unmoving, staring at the headless body of Lareth lying in the thigh-deep snow. The dead priests fingers still twitched, perhaps struggling even in death to finish the casting that could not be completed in life.
Sword still in hand, Govin stood, feet slightly apart, and stared down at what he had done. He bowed his head, eyes closed, and softly muttered a few words of thanks to Saint Cuthbert for granting him the strength to achieve victory. When he opened them again, there was no regret in his visage—nor was there malice or glee, Shanhaevel noted—only the look of a man who did what he had to and would think on it no further.
Shanhaevel closed his own eyes for a moment, thankful that the battle was over.
Suddenly, a keening wail, an unnatural sound of death and despair, cut through the silent morning air. In a heartbeat, the wizard knew that death had been awakened in the woods. He blanched as a dark, shadowlike thing rose from the body of the beheaded priest—a horrible shade that extended eight wispy legs tapering to nothing before coming to rest on the ground. The head of the creature—a demonic, insubstantial spider form—was Lareth’s.
“Boccob!” Shanhaevel cried, his blood turning as cold as the snow around him.
“To the well!” Elmo cried, already running.
In a terrified mad dash, the six companions darted across the yard, heading straight toward the well. Shanhaevel began a spell even as Elmo reached the lip of the well and scrambled over the side. Frantically, he worked to unblock the secret passage, clearing away Ahleage and Draga’s handiwork from the night before. Scrap wood and debris flew until Elmo had cleared a hole large enough for a man to pass through.
Elmo ushered Shirral through the makeshift passage. Ahleage was next. By the time Draga, Govin, and Elmo had disappeared inside the well, the haunt was just beginning to separate itself from the body from which it grew, but there was no mistaking the message in the sound it made as it howled, intimating its craving for life, for souls. The shadow hungered, and Shanhaevel knew what it would mean to be caught. Its song hinted at darkness, terror, and everlasting pain and cold. The elf prayed that his spell, coupled with the heavy snowfall, would veil the Alliance’s escape.
With a sharp gesture, the wizard finished his spell. Immediately, he felt the cold, whipping wind that he had summoned. It swirled through the clearing of the farmhouse, stirring up the smoke and snow in a blinding gray wash that masked all movement and whisked away any hint of footprints. Satisfied that their trail was covered, Shanhaevel ducked down into the well, pausing near the top of the ladder.
Ormiel, fly! Fly far away and wait for me to call you. I go to hide in the earth.
Bad thing in the woods. I fly away.
Yes, Shanhaevel responded. I may begone a long time. Wait for me. Stay warm.
I wait.
With that, Shanhaevel dropped the rest of the way down and ducked into the tunnel. Govin shut the door, and Ahleage dropped the bar into place. The group stood panting and looking wide-eyed at one another in the light of one lantern, which Elmo kept partially hooded.
“What was that?” Draga whispered, his voice wavering.
“Death undying,” Govin replied, his face grim. “It will be on us soon. It can sense our life-force, and it will not stop hunting until it finds us.”
“I guess it’s time to explore the inside of the temple, then,” Ahleage said wryly, but there was no humor in his eyes.
“Lead the way,” Shirral told him, her face pale in the dimness.
The tunnel descended steadily through the clay, shored up by stout timbers at regular intervals. Once the companions were sufficiently below ground level, they discovered that the tunnel had been cut directly through the limestone bedrock. It was narrow and cool in the passage, and the Alliance moved steadily, if cautiously, through it. After four hundred paces and a couple of slight turns later, they found themselves standing on the north side of a cavern perhaps forty feet across. A second tunnel led away east. According to the map Ahleage had found in the lid of the chest, the six explorers were now near the northwest corner of the temple, but still well below the surface.
“This is it,” Ahleage said, holding a lantern up and peering at the sheet of parchment in his hand. “According to the map, the other passage heads out from right over there.” He pointed toward the southeast corner of the oval-shaped cavern. There was nothing visible in the natural limestone wall.
“Let me take a look,” Shanhaevel said. “I’ve got the eyes for it.” The wizard stepped to the area Ahleage had indicated and studied the rock.
Shirral moved up beside him. “You’re not the only one with keen eyes, you know,” she muttered.
Shanhaevel glanced sideways at her. He nodded and continued to look.
“I’m going to follow the other passageway and see where it ends,” Ahleage announced. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go with you,” Draga said, “just to watch your back.”
With that, the two of them departed, taking one of the lanterns with them. Elmo held the other light high, trying to give everyone a clear view of the limestone walls.
“It always makes me nervous when he goes off like that,” Govin muttered, pacing in the middle of the room. “There’s going to come a time when he doesn’t come back, and…” The knight left the thought unfinished.
“Here it is!” Shirral proclaimed, running her finger along a faint vertical crack. “Right here.”
The rest of the group crowded around her, looking at what she had discovered.
“Looks like a pivoting slab,” Govin said. “Elmo, shall we?”
Nodding, Elmo stepped up beside the knight, and together they pushed on the stone. It swung open easily, revealing a narrow passage beyond.
Shanhaevel picked up the lantern Elmo had set down and shone it into the tunnel. The passage stretched straight ahead as far as the light would illuminate.
“Well, it agrees with what’s on the map,” Shirral said. “Too bad the map doesn’t show what’s at the other end.”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Govin said. “Just as soon as those two return.”