Chap whined, thrashing his head, side to side.
"Enough," she said, putting a hand on his back. "We must leave."
Magiere retrieved her falchion and dagger and headed for the door. The others followed, and Emel secured the crypt behind them. No one would find Darmouth for a while. Leesil carried his bundle, but he wouldn't look at her.
She didn't care. She didn't want to look at him or speak to him, and merely led the way to the small cell block and the lanterns they'd left there. They passed through the cell and rotating wall, down the stairs, through the portal, and into the tunnel, not bothering to close the way behind them. As she walked along the tunnel, Chap remained deeply agitated at Leesil's side.
Welstiel heard noise in the lower level below him and crept to the base of the south staircase. The passage was long, but he could see all the way to the far end where the north stairwell ran upward. There was no sign of Magiere or her companions.
He could just make out the ornate door before the storage area. It opened.
A tall, cowled figure emerged earring a similarly dressed body over his shoulder.
Anmaglahk. Welstiel sank back a ways into the stairs.
He heard the elf breathing, but his companion was dead, The elf stepped out through the arches into the storage area, and Welstiel lost sight of him.
He sat and waited and was on the verge of getting closer to the door to peer in.
Magiere and her companions came out, heading the same way as the gray figure. Baron Milea paused long enough to close the door.
Leesil was with her, but Welstiel could tell something was wrong. He was nearly catatonic, clutching a bundled cloak to his chest and walking so slowly that the baron passed him with a troubled glance. Magiere led the way, not looking back even once for Leesil.
Her shoulder was bleeding, and she looked haggard, but she was still on her feet. Welstiel felt only a slight relief. He was curious, even anxious, about what had happened in that room.
All four disappeared from his view.
Welstiel waited a little longer, then quietly walked to the leather-bound door and opened it.
At first he saw only two stone crypts between dark archways to either side. One was coated in fresh blood across its middle. Small shadowed edifices filled the back wall, and a body lay upon the floor. Welstiel stepped between the stone coffins.
Darmouth lay dead in a pool of blood. The back of a knife hilt protruded from his throat. There were skulls in most of the holes in the back wall.
Welstiel was at a loss even to guess what all this meant. Had Leesil learned anything of his parents' fate? Would he abandon his plan to head for the elven lands? Welstiel turned back to the door.
A voice shouting out orders carried from the north stairwell. It was Omasta, and Welstiel rushed toward the end of the storage area where all the others had gone. There was no way he would be able to leave through the front bridge.
He looked carefully through the half-ajar door to find an empty passage between the cells. And no one he had seen leave was there. He didn't even hear footsteps. There was a hole along the side of one door just above its latch. He opened that door.
Before him was the twisted back wall of the cell, and beyond a narrow staircase.
Magiere needed time to get well ahead on whatever path lay below.
At least now, perhaps she would leave this place, although Welstiel grew anxious again in the uncertainty of what her next step would be.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Hedi kept the fire low and pulled the cloak tighter around Korey and Wynn. Wynn coughed and opened her eyes. The young scholar rolled her head to look about, and fright washed over her face.
"You are safe," Hedi said. "We are all safe."
"Ch… Chane?" Wynn stammered. "What happened?"
"Your strange friend brought us out," Hedi answered. "He carried you all the way. I gave him my word that I would watch over you until your companions came. He left us here and would not stay. How do you know such a man?"
"Then it was real?" Wynn asked. "He was there in the corridor… with the soldiers?"
Little Korey frowned and muttered, "He was cold-bad man," and snuggled closer to Wynn beneath the cloak.
"How do you know him?" Hedi repeated. "Is he a foreign soldier of some kind? I have seen him before but cannot remember where."
"Where are we?" Wynn asked, and glanced about as if truly noticing her surroundings for the first time. "Where is your baron?"
Hedi tried to be patient. "Your friend thought Emel went into the keep, looking for us. I hope he did not, and that he will come for us soon."
If only poor Emel had known what would happen. In hindsight, she should have told him everything from the start. Byrd must have located the tunnel's exit, or Emel-far too chivalrous for Darmouth's domain- would never have gone in after her. Soon enough, Byrd's associates would be sent to finish Darmouth, but not before Hedi dealt with Leesil.
"And Papa and Mama will come, too?" Korey asked.
"Maybe not tonight, but soon," Hedi said.
Rhythmic scraping sounds came through the forest behind her.
Hedi leaned around the tree and looked toward the opening in the dead trunk. She started to pull herself from under the cloak.
A tall, cowled man stepped out into the forest with someone draped over his shoulder. Both were cloaked, and the one standing had a cloth wrapped across the lower half of his face. He turned his head, looking about, and Hedi barely made out large eyes in a dark-skinned face. He staggered in weariness, as if it were an effort to remain on his feet and still bear his burden.
Hedi pulled back out of sight and put a finger to her lips, signaling Wynn and Korey to be silent.
The dagger taken from Wynn's guard lay by her side, and she gripped its handle. As she looked at the small fire, her fear rose sharply. Its light could not be missed by anyone so close. If this was one of Byrd's elven assassins, then they had closed in on Darmouth more quickly than Hedi had thought possible. And this one might not care to be seen by three women in the forest.
She leaned slowly back to peer toward the tunnel's exit.
The elf was gone. She scanned the darkness between the trees. After long, tense moments, Hedi relaxed again.
"What was it?" Wynn whispered.
"I thought I saw something, but… no, nothing."
Disturbing Korey or Wynn over this strangely fortunate near-miss would serve no purpose. They huddled in silence, letting the fire burn lower. Wynn appeared lost in thought. Angry dissatisfaction filled Hedi in realizing Leesil would not die before Darmouth. Then she heard another soft scuffling in the direction of the dead tree.
A tall woman crawled out of the opening, dressed in a leather hauberk and wearing a sword on her hip. The sleeves of her shirt seemed torn or tattered, though it was too dark to be certain. One shoulder looked stained, and she held that same arm against her chest. Hedi turned on her knees, holding the dagger ready.
Emel crawled out next, his face smudged and dirty, and Hedi rushed out of hiding.
"Emel! Here!"
He saw her and held out his arms. Then her face was in his chest, and he pulled her close.
"Magiere!" came a cry from behind.
Hedi caught a glimpse of Wynn rounding the tree that blocked the fire, steadying herself with one hand on its rough bark.
"Wynn?" the tall woman said, her tone melting to relief. "You got out."
Before the woman named Magiere took a step, a large silver-gray dog lunged out of the tree. It rushed to Wynn, and the little scholar sank to her knees. The animal licked her swollen face with a whine.
Another figure rose up in the hollow of the dead tree.
Slender, with brown skin and white-blond hair, his eyes were like amber. Clearly he was an elf, but Hedi was confused. Had Emel joined with the assassins? The man's face was expressionless as he held a bundle to his chest with one arm.