“It’s a safe passage,” he said, his words echoing slightly in the expanse of the tunnel. “But it simply leads back to the hall where we first entered the tomb.”
She could hear the others cursing at the news and starting to pull their gear over to the original crawlway, but she didn’t move. Thus, she was the only one in the treasure room to hear the sound of shouting that echoed faintly down the tunnel.
“Get Vaxor and the others!” Kaerion said seconds later. “Gerwyth and Bredeth are in trouble!”
Majandra barely had time to reply before the light receded rapidly down the tunnel, leaving the passage blanketed in darkness.
Kaerion’s breath echoed as he crawled through the narrow tunnel as fast as his armor and gear would allow. Visions of horrifying monsters and gruesome traps filled his mind as he tried to imagine the danger that his friends now found themselves in. He cursed once as the tunnel turned sharply and he scraped the skin of his hand raw on a jagged rock. Another few feet and he was free of the tunnel. Heedless of his protesting muscles, Kaerion drew his sword and charged into the main hall.
The telltale flicker of torchlight emerged from a shadowy indentation along the east wall—a depression that hadn’t been there when the group had first entered the confines of the tomb. A cry of pain threw all thoughts out of Kaerion’s mind as he ran toward the passageway. The familiar sound of combat spurred him onward. With a rush of speed, he pushed past the splintered remains of a gruesome painting and ran through an open door.
The broad swoosh of wings alerted him to danger just moments before a black shadow loomed overhead. With a cry, Kaerion dived forward, rolling hard across his wounded arm. Three arrows hissed out of the corner of the room, striking his mysterious opponent. As he raised his own blade, the blood-red torchlight revealed a familiar figure. Above him, suspended by the awkward flapping of its stone wings, hung the gargoyle whose statue loomed in another part of the tomb. Only now the four-armed monstrosity was not an artists representation. It was all too real.
Holding his shield at an angle to protect his left side, Kaerion darted in for a quick slash with his sword. His opponent opened its stony mouth wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth, as it brought the gray bulk of its left leg forward to block the attack. Kaerion fell back hastily as the gargoyle sprang forward and cut at him with four swift slashes of its hooked claws. He managed to deflect two with a sweeping move of his shield, but the third attack caught him a glancing blow near his neck, knocking him slightly off balance. He spun, letting his momentum carry him away from the creature, putting him out of range of its final attack, which would have caught him square in the chest.
A shout from the corner of the room distracted the creature enough for Kaerion to widen the gap between them. Seconds later, another arrow came winging out of the darkness, this time its steel head pulsed with a red glow. The magic shaft caught the gargoyle on its wingtip. The beast let out a hollow-throated howl of protest and flew back up into the shadows of the room.
“Gerwyth,” Kaerion shouted between great gulping breaths of air, “what happened here?” Desperately, Kaerion searched the ceiling, watching warily for another attack.
“I’m not sure,” came the ranger’s reply. “I was waiting for Bredeth at the mouth of the tunnel, when all of a sudden I heard a cracking sound. By the time I saw the shattered plaster near the entrance of the tomb, our young friend had already thrown open the door. Within seconds I heard his cry for help and called for you before I came running.”
Kaerion nodded. “Where is our noble warrior?” he asked, catching sight of the elf as he nocked yet another arrow to his bow.
“I’m right here,” said a voice roughened with pain.
Kaerion spun at the sound, catching sight of Bredeth’s stumbling form. The nobles armor was dented and torn in several places, and blood streamed freely from his open wounds. A gleam of light caught Kaerion’s eye as he ran to the hurt nobleman. With a gasp of surprise, Kaerion noted the thick leather collar, studded with a cluster of blue gems, clutched tightly in Bredeth’s left hand.
“I pulled this off the creature’s neck before it sliced into me,” Bredeth said before slumping heavily against the raven-haired fighter. “Do you think Majandra would approve?”
Kaerion had no time to reply. The air above his head swirled with the flapping of stone wings.
“Incoming!” Gerwyth shouted, moments before the gargoyle fell like a terrible missile out of the ceiling’s shadows. More concerned with Bredeth’s safety than his comfort, Kaerion pushed the wounded nobleman to the floor and stepped back sharply. Razor-sharp claws sliced the air just inches from his face, but not before Gerwyth’s arrow struck the creature sharply in its back.
Taking advantage of its momentary disorientation, Kaerion planted his feet and swung his blade in a deadly arc, twisting his hips to add more power to the blow. His sword met the creature’s stone skin with the force of a hammer striking an anvil, and Kaerion nearly lost his grip on the blade. Bits of stone cracked and fell from the monster’s hide, and it roared in pain. Withdrawing the blade, Kaerion gave silent thanks to Phathas, who had imbued the blade with magic after their battle with the demon in Rel Mord.
Wounded as it was, the gargoyle was still a severe threat. It lashed out twice with its upper claws, catching Kaerion across the face and at the juncture of shoulder and neck. It was, however, the monsters lower claws that did the real damage. Forced to raise his shield to block an attack from the beast’s claw-tipped leg, Kaerion was unprepared for the twin thrust of its hands as they raked the unprotected length of his chest. Kaerion’s armor shredded into thin strips beneath the force of the gargoyle’s strikes. He fell back, unable to muster an effective defense against the evil creature’s tremendous strength and speed.
At that moment, twin bolts of energy flew from the open doorway, catching the creature in the face. It screeched once and turned to face this new threat. Grievously wounded, Kaerion withdrew, confident that the flares and flashes of arcane energy he saw emanating from the doorway would keep the gargoyle busy for the moment. Reaching a sure hand into a pouch at his belt, Kaerion withdrew a vial of green liquid. With one swift motion, he uncorked the container and brought it to his mouth, swallowing the sweet-tasting potion inside. Immediately, the pain of his wounds receded and some measure of strength flowed back into his limbs. Smiling in anticipation, Kaerion withdrew another glass container and prepared to quaff its contents.
A muffled explosion caught the fighter’s attention. To the left of the entranceway, he saw that Vaxor had called upon Heironeous for help—and the god had answered. Three arrowhawks appeared in a blaze of light and circled the gargoyle, their powerful wings and arrow-like bodies offering them greater maneuverability. Two opened their sharp beaks and shot a ray of energy at the gargoyle. The beast evaded the first blast with a sweep of its wings, but ran headlong into the other mystic bolt. The third arrowhawk, however, misjudged its flight and flew too close to the gargoyle. Angered by the wounds it was receiving, the stone-skinned monster concentrated its attacks on the hapless creature. It disappeared in a flash of light, its last sound a screech of pain.
Energized by his brief respite and the application of the healing potion, Kaerion raised his sword and swallowed the second potion. Time seemed to slow as the magical liquid took effect, and the fighter could feel his blood quickening. He gave another cry before launching himself into battle, delighted at the speed in which his feet carried him. Within moments, he had delivered two swift cuts to the gargoyle’s side. The beast, in turn, lashed out at the circling arrowhawks with its upper claws and then spun toward Kaerion, intent on disemboweling him with its remaining attacks.