With alarming nonchalance, Tasslehoff picked his way through the spikes and net. Although none of them were strangers to danger, the phaethons, Nanda in particular, gawked with mixed wonder and dread at the grisly fate the kender had so easily sidestepped.
Only a few paces beyond the trap, the corridor opened into a circular room. The walls and floor were polished granite, coral pink with veins of gray. Three magical light sources blazed softly on the walls, filling the room with clean white light. As everyone else filed in, they found Tasslehoff standing in the center of the room, toying with the long tail from his topknot.
Tanis and Flint moved next to the kender, who asked, "What do you make of this?" With a sweep of his arm he indicated the entire wall of the chamber. The wall was plain and unadorned, unremarkable in all respects save one.
"There aren't any exits," observed Tanis in wonder. The wall was featureless. The only doorway was the one from which the group had just emerged.
"None that we can see, you mean," corrected Tas. "I'd bet Flint's beard that there's at least one way out of here, aside from where we entered, probably more. We just have to find them." Quickly the kender went to work
searching for concealed doors. He groped along the walls and floor and across the ceiling: poking, prodding, knocking, twisting, and pulling.
While pushing against what appeared to be solid granite, Tasslehoff suddenly tumbled through, leaving only his ankles sticking out of the wall. What had looked like blank wall shimmered and faded away to reveal an arched doorway with an open space beyond. The kender, who was as surprised as everyone else, scrambled to his feet. Flint beamed.
"That's one, but as I said there's bound to be more. Now that we know what we're looking for, let's flush out the rest."
In less than a minute, two more doorways were found. All three opened into corridors, not rooms. Two were smooth and polished, like the chamber where all the passages met. The third, to the left, was rough, like the passage they had followed from the entrance.
Nanda turned to his great-grandfather. "Hoto, do you have any idea where these passages lead?"
The elder just shook his white-maned head. "I have never been inside this place, and I am unaccustomed to being underground. My sense of direction here is quite bad."
"Mine is excellent," said the dwarf, who had grown up in the underground tunnels that riddled the foothills of the Kharolis Mountains. "Based on the location you described for that chimney, one of these two finished passages should lead there. This third one is anybody's guess."
"With no clear choice between them," said Tanis. "I say we choose this one." He indicated the corridor farthest to the right and took several steps toward it.
"Wait a minute," ordered Tas. Stretching up as far as he could, he plucked one of the magical lights from its holder on the wall, then scooted in front of Tanis in the unexplored hallway. "OK, all set."
As they moved slowly down the corridor, Tasslehoff suddenly stopped, then motioned for the others to move forward. Tanis was about to ask what the problem was when he spotted it. It stood in shadows, only partly illuminated by Tas's light, but Tanis had no desire to get a better look.
"Father of creation!" exclaimed Flint as he stepped up behind Tanis. "What in all the Abyss is that?"
The thing before them, several yards down the hall, once had been a man. Now its flesh was mummified, shrunken, and cracked open. Brown bones showed through the tattered skin. It stood rigidly at attention in the middle of the passage and was clad in a spectacular suit of chain mail. Even ages of tarnish and a multitude of gashes could not hide the armor's splendor. The large shield lashed to the skeleton thing's left arm was split from the top to the central boss. Almost a dozen snapped-off arrow shafts jutted at crazy angles from the shield, a brown streak trailing down from each rusted iron arrowhead.
A bastard sword dangled loosely from the thing's right hand. The creature's studded leather gauntlet and the sword's decaying leather handle had become one indistinguishable, molding lump, but the sword showed only patches of rust. Most of its three-foot length was still shiny and keen. An uncomfortable lump rose in Tas's throat as he realized that the rust on the blade marked patches of blood that had never been wiped away.
"That's not just another zombie," offered Tas.
"It hasn't moved yet. Perhaps it's nothing, just a statue," offered Kelu.
Tasslehoff knew that wasn't the case. From his position at the head of the line, and being shorter than everyone else, he could see something they could not; the eye slits of the monster's helmet. Beyond those steel rims
were two black, hollow pits, and in each shone a tiny pinpoint of flickering light.
With a sickening creak the thing raised its head and swept those malevolent eyes across the cluster of intruders. Bones grated against bones as it lifted its shield and sword. Expecting to see the shambling gait typical of most undead creatures, Tas was shocked beyond words when the monster leaped gracefully toward him. The bright, heavy blade whisked through the air, neck high. The kender threw himself to the ground and rolled straight toward the monster, hoping to get past it.
Death had not dulled the thing's reflexes. The skeletal warrior sidestepped and kicked, solidly planting its steel-coated foot in Tas's stomach. The unfortunate kender skidded back across the smooth floor, left dazed and gasping for breath by the force of the blow. A vicious downstroke from the massive sword could have cut him in half, but the killing blow was knocked aside by Flint's axe. Tasslehoff felt friendly hands dragging him away while his ribs throbbed and his ears rang from the clash.
It was Flint's turn to face the creature. He shifted his heavy axe back to a ready position while the warrior studied him with its cold eyespecks. The sturdy dwarf was no stranger to life-or-death combat or undead monsters, but this thing was outside his experience. He was not the least bit confident that his mundane weapon could even hurt this obviously magical opponent.
The skeletal warrior offered the tip of its blade while keeping its shield at half an arm's length. Flint understood that it had fought axemen before, and whatever sort of undead brain it possessed, it could reason and remember. It was crafty, judging from the way it had attacked Tasslehoff.
Keeping his eyes locked on the thing's face plate, the powerful dwarf lunged forward and swept his heavy, two-edged blade across the sword. The ancient steel bit into the wall in a shower of sparks and stone chips, and Flint felt his axe springing off, no longer under control. He realized too late that the monster had lured him, knowing that its sword could absorb the blow. Its shield swept forward and turned in toward the axe. It struck the rebounding blade squarely and caught it, the way a stump catches the woodsplitter's axe. The shield twisted, wrenching the haft away from Flint's hands, and the sword blade sang through the dank air. Its tip sliced cleanly through the hardened leather plate covering Flint's left shoulder. A spreading stain darkened the shirt beneath the severed and dangling armor.
Flint tumbled backward, clutching his wounded arm. The skeletal warrior jumped forward to press the attack, but now its shield sagged under the weight of Flint's embedded axe. This was the opening Tanis had waited for. The half-elf fired a razor-tipped arrow straight into the creature's exposed breast. It punched completely through the mail shirt, front and back, and shattered against the far wall as severed chain mail links clattered to the floor. Far from being hurt, the creature barely seemed to notice the wound.
Kelu, seeing the danger to Flint, grabbed Nanda's quarterstaff and leaped forward. With cool precision, he landed two powerful blows against the monster's helmet, but without even appearing to change the direction of its attack, the skeletal warrior's bastard sword flashed once and severed the phaethon's right arm at the elbow. As Kelu stared in shock and horror, a second blow ripped across his midsection and a third split him from collarbone to navel. The phaethon's mutilated body tumbled to the floor amidst a spreading ruby pool.