“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Shirral asked. “I burned off a lot of magic up there in the fight. I need to rest and meditate.”
“I don’t think we can wait,” Elmo said. “That howling thing that rose up from Lareth will be tracking us, and we can’t let it catch up.”
Shirral nodded. “I suppose,” she said.
A moment later Ahleage and the bowman did return, carrying a chest between the two of them Draga also carried a rolled up piece of cloth and an extra quiver in his free hand.
“Look what we found,” Ahleage said, setting the chest down and throwing the lid back. Inside were small containers, all ornate boxes and coffers trimmed in precious metals. “The tunnel goes for a long way, and at the end is a small room. All this was sitting at the base of a ladder. We didn’t bother going up to the tower again.”
Shanhaevel noticed the folded cloth in Draga’s hand and asked to have a closer look. When he unfurled it, the elf realized it was a cloak made of a rare weave. He had only seen such a fabric once before, back home in the Welkwood.
“Elven!” he breathed. “This is a rare find, indeed. Watch.”
He flung the cloak over his shoulders and moved beside the wall. The rest of the group murmured in surprise as he faded into the surrounding rock.
“Is it magic?” Ahleage asked as Shanhaevel removed the cloak.
“Partially,” the elf replied. “That, and the elves have a way of weaving their fibers to reflect the surrounding light.”
“What about these?” Draga asked, holding out the quiver he bore.
Shanhaevel walked over to the bowman and removed an arrow from the container. He examined it closely for a moment. His eyes caught what he was hoping to see: a faint sign engraved in the shaft.
“They bear the mark of magic,” he told Draga. “Hang on to them. Use them carefully.”
Draga nodded, a wry grin on his face, and stuffed the newfound arrows into his own quiver, then tossed the spare one aside.
“Leave the rest of that here,” Govin said, pointing to the chest. “We’ll take it with us when we come back this way.”
“Assuming we come back this way,” Ahleage said. “With an army overhead, it’s only a matter of time before they realize where we went.” He shut the lid and pushed the container over against the wall near the new tunnel the group was about to enter.
“Let’s go,” Elmo said.
One by one, the Alliance filed into the narrow opening and followed the tunnel, with Ahleage scouting ahead. It descended more sharply than the previous passage had, and it was so narrow that Govin, Elmo, and Draga had to turn sideways from time to time to squeeze through.
The going was slow, but eventually the tunnel widened and turned, becoming a better-constructed corridor. The ceiling was a rounded arch that ran the length of the passage, and torch sconces were set in the walls at regular intervals. Some of the sconces still held torches, though none were lit. The stonework itself was good, solid craftsmanship, and the walls and floors had been polished smooth.
After a while, Shanhaevel could sense slight air currents, deducing from such that the place was somehow ventilated.
“I think we’re here,” Shirral whispered, shivering and running her hand along one wall. The tunnel ahead turned once more.
“Oh, we’re here, all right,” Govin said. “I can feel the taint. The very walls ooze with evil.”
“Stay here,” Ahleage called softly over his shoulder, then he darted ahead into the darkness, stopping at the corner and peeking around. He waited a moment before disappearing around the bend.
Govin sighed, but everyone held their positions while they waited for Ahleage to return. Shanhaevel went through his remaining spells, considering which ones would be useful.
At that moment, they heard Ahleage shout, and the unmistakable red-orange light of bright flame suffused the corridor just around the corner.
17
Govin was around the corner of the passage instantly, his sword in hand. The rest of the companions followed without hesitation. Beyond Ahleage and around the corner of that intersection, a wide passage glowed with flame, while the passage they currently traversed continued past into darkness. When Shanhaevel saw the unmoving silhouette of Ahleage standing near another intersection a bit farther down, one arm raised before him as though to ward off some attack, the elf’s heart skipped a beat. The man’s form was stiff. In fact, it was absolutely unmoving.
“Hold, Govin!” the wizard called out, slowing and throwing himself against the wall of the passage. The knight paused and turned to look back at Shanhaevel, who motioned frantically for him to get away from Ahleage.
“Come here!” the elf hissed.
“By Cuthbert! What’s wrong with him?” Govin asked, his teeth clenched as he stepped back beside the wizard. He took a half-step forward again, barely able to restrain himself from charging around the corner. From this vantage point, Shanhaevel saw that his worst fears were confirmed: Ahleage had been transformed into a statue.
“Easy, knight,” Elmo said, moving up beside Shanhaevel. “Whatever happened to Ahleage could happen to you, too. We must be cautious.”
“It looks like he’s been petrified,” Shanhaevel whispered.
Govin’s eyes bulged. “What?” he growled. “We must do something!”
“Shh!” Shanhaevel said, motioning for the knight to keep his voice down. “We will! But if you don’t be quiet, everyone in the entire temple’s going to know we’re here.”
“What should we do?” Draga asked from behind the three of them.
“Let me think,” the wizard replied. “Whatever you do, do not look at anything that comes around that corner.”
Shanhaevel studied Ahleage for a moment, even as the flames around the corner flickered and cast the shadow of his form on the wall.
“All right,” the elf said at last, handing his staff to Elmo. “Give me your shield, Govin.”
The knight looked at him askance but handed the shield over. Shanhaevel gasped as he took hold of the thing, for it was heavier than he had expected. Hoisting it up with both hands, he moved down the hallway, holding the shield in front of him and keeping his back pressed against the wall.
“What in the hells are you doing?” Govin called out.
Shanhaevel ignored the knight and walked all the way to the corner, so that he was right behind Ahleage. Keeping the shield high in front of him so that it blocked his line of sight ahead, he moved around the corner, navigating by staring at the floor before him.
“Wizard! Stop!” Govin called again.
Shanhaevel continued to ignore the knight, instead concentrating on what he was looking at—or rather, what he was not looking at. Slowly, moving the shield around, he studied the passage in small sections.
The glow of fire came from several places, the brightest of which were two braziers set in the floor, one at each corner of a T-shaped intersection. The closer of the pair was mere inches away from Ahleage. A runnel of flame lit each brazier, igniting oil that flowed through shallow channels in the floor alongside each wall. The channels came from the far end of the passage, which hit a deadend after perhaps thirty feet. At that far end, there was a great fountain. It, too, was filled with oil burning brightly. Flanking the fountain, set into the side walls of the short hallway, were a pair of doors. Between Shanhaevel and the fountain of burning oil stood a creature he’d only heard described in legend.
The beast, a dull brown in color, was vaguely lizardlike in appearance, although it sported eight legs instead of four. Shanhaevel was careful to avoid looking at the creature’s face. It snorted and hissed, bobbing its head back and forth, as though it was trying to move into a position past the side of the shield and catch the wizard’s attention. Shanhaevel kept his eyes averted, though, refusing to meet the thing’s gaze.