Ruins of Myth Drannor (12 page)

“Shut up or that will change.”

Nottle fell silent. As Durwyn and Jarial searched the cultist’s bodies, Kestrel studied the engraving on the padlock. She’d seen that circle and arch image before. It matched the glyph on the treasury door—and on the key she’d taken from the cult sorcerer upstairs.

“Never mind, boys. I think I’ve found it.” She withdrew the key from her sleeve, and discovered that it slipped easily into the lock. The clasp sprung open. A moment later, the peddler was free.

“Finally! I thought I’d never git outta there.” The halfling stretched his short limbs to their fullest extent.

“We told you this place was dangerous, Nottle,” Corran said as he and Ghleanna rejoined the group.

“Yeah, I know. I couldn’t resist. Scavenging’s in my blood.” He leaned toward Kestrel. “Surely you, m’dear, understand the lure of an old dwarven treasury? I suspect we’re kindred spirits.”

She didn’t deny the allure but preferred to think she had more sense. She nodded toward the dead cultists. “I see this is a great place for making new friends.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Nah, they weren’t friendly at all. ‘Specially when I wouldn’t join their club.”

Corran’s brow rose. “They invited you to join their organization?”

“Well, not exactly—said I could make a ‘great contribution,’ but I kinda got the feelin’ they were all in on some joke I didn’t understan’. Not that I’d want t’belong to somethin’ called the Cult of the Dragon. I don’t like dragons. Though they have got nice treasure. Dragons, that is—I dunno about these folks.”

Kestrel and the others exchanged glances, but no one seemed familiar with the cult’s name.

“Did they tell you anything about their activities?” Corran asked.

“Nah. But I did overhear a thing or two. Once they shut me up in the box, they sometimes forgot about me and talked a little too freely. Since ye rescued me and all, I’ll tell ye what they said without chargin’ my usual price for information.”

Kestrel smiled thinly. “How generous of you.”

Nottle appeared not to notice her sarcasm. “These cult folks, they’re the ones who killed yer friends the other day. They’re also the ones who drove the alhoon and phaerimm outta this part o’the city.”

“Their sorcerers are that powerful?”

“Their leader is—he’s a dracolich!”

A shudder raced up Kestrel’s spine. If an undead dragon was behind all these events, their quest was even more doomed than she’d previously imagined.

Durwyn scratched his head. “I thought Emmeric said the cult leader was an archmage. Some woman—Kya something.”

“Perhaps they’re working cooperatively,” Corran suggested. “Nottle, did you overhear anything else?”

“Somethin’ ’bout using some kinda pool t’make the dracolich stronger than he already is.”

Everyone but Nottle exchanged apprehensive glances. “Does the pool have a name?” Ghleanna asked.

Nottle shrugged. “Don’t know. They jus’ kept calling it ‘the pool.’ It was a little hard t’hear from where I was sittin’, ye know.”

Jarial cleared his throat. “Can we talk about this en route? Now that Nottle is free, we shouldn’t tarry.”

Corran nodded. “Jarial’s right. This news only increases the urgency of our mission.”

“Emmeric?” Durwyn asked.

“At rest.” Corran replied. “Let us finish what he and his companions started.”

Following a shortcut Nottle knew, they passed yet another ice-covered doorway on their way back to the Room of Words. “I sure wish we knew what those frozen rooms were about.” Durwyn said.

“Perhaps they’re related to the Rohnglyn,” Nottle said.

“The what?”

The peddler shrugged. “Accordin’ to rumor, some kinda magic transportation use t’connect all four levels of the dwarven dungeons. Rohnglyn, the elves called it. Years back, when the alhoon was still layin’ claim t’these halls, they all got in some big feud an’one o’the beasts put an ice charm on the Rohnglyn. Froze the thing right in place, or so I hear.”

“This device,” Corran asked, “it would enable us to move between levels more quickly?”

“Instantly. So they say, anyway.”

Corran pulled out his warhammer. “Care to help me make a few ice cubes, Durwyn?”

The two warriors smashed their way through the ice, revealing a room identical to the one they’d seen before—with one notable exception. The rune on the floor lay covered with ice stalagmites infused with colored lights. Elaborate icicles, many thick as tree trunks, hung from the ceiling, some of them fused to the lower ice formations in great columns of ice. As in the other room, a frozen golden sphere floated at about waist level in the center of the circular pattern.

Ghleanna tapped one of the ice formations with her staff. “Solid.”

“Can you free it from the alhoon’s spell?” Corran asked.

“We can try.” She raised a brow at Jarial. “What do you think? Should we attempt to dispel the magic or counter it?”

“The alhoon are powerful spellcasters. I don’t know if either of us has the experience to dispel such strong sorcery.” Jarial circled the rune, running his hands along some of the icicles. “It looks like the sphere could withstand a fireball, which would probably melt some of the ice…”

Ghleanna nodded pensively. “Perhaps if we all stood outside the chamber, a lightning bolt could break through the thicker ice formations.”

As the two discussed additional possibilities, Kestrel noticed Durwyn shifting impatiently. The warrior concentrated on the icicle nearest him, his fingers absently stroking the haft of his axe.

Corran joined in the mages’ discussion. “If you weaken the ice with your spells, I’m sure Durwyn and I could then—”

“Enough talk. We waste time!” Durwyn raised his battle-axe and swung at the closest icicle. The force of the blow sent a huge crack running along the ice from top to bottom. As it weakened, its center seemed to take on a bluish hue. Durwyn struck again, this time breaking through the formation. Embedded in the jagged layers of ice rested a thin blue shard that twinkled in the torchlight.

They all moved closer for a better look. “Well, I’ll be pickled,” Nottle said. “What do ye suppose that is?”

Jarial furrowed his brow in concentration. “It looks like…” He extended a hand, running his fingers along the crystal’s edge. “It is. This is an ice knife, identical to one Ozama often conjured through spellcasting. Only hers wasn’t blue.”

“Borea’s Blood,” Nottle whispered.

“You’ve heard of it?”

The halfling’s eyes glowed as he regarded the ice sliver almost reverently. “It’s said that Borea’s Blood—” He stopped suddenly, as if remembering himself. His eyes regained their usual mercenary glint, and he shrugged casually. “Jest a blue knife, that’s all. Nothin’ you folks would wanna lug around with ye.” He reached toward it “Here, I’ll jes—”

“I don’t think so.” Kestrel batted away his arm. Obviously the knife had some value if the peddler took interest. “I’m sure lugging this around won’t prove a burden to us at all.” She grabbed the crystal and tugged, expecting it to remain frozen in place. To her surprise, the blue knife slid from the icicle as smoothly as a sword from its scabbard.

The moment Borea’s Blood cleared its icy sheath, every shard of ice in the room immediately disappeared. The large ice formations vanished, while the broken chunks on the floor melted into small puddles. Only the blue crystal remained unchanged, resting coolly in the palm of Kestrel’s hand. Above the rune, the colored lights danced like faeries on Midsummer Night.

“You did it—you unfroze the Rohnglyn,” Durwyn said.

She regarded the fighter. Had he not taken matters into his own hands, they might have wasted an hour debating strategy. She was developing new respect for the quiet but dedicated warrior. “No, it was your no-nonsense approach that found the crystal in the first place.”

At the compliment, the corners of Durwyn’s mouth twisted in a self-conscious half-smile. He appeared unused to praise. “Now that it’s thawed, how do you suppose it works?”

As in the room they’d entered earlier, the far wall of this chamber held a carving of four diamonds stacked right on top of each other, with a small gem—an opal—in the bottom-most point. Kestrel, Ghleanna, and Corran studied the pattern, while Jarial, Durwyn, and Nottle examined the floating golden sphere and the lights.

“Four diamonds, four dungeon levels,” Ghleanna said finally. “I’m guessing the gem in that pattern indicates the current position of the Rohnglyn. The bottom diamond is the bottom level of the dungeon, and so on. Perhaps it’s simply a matter of moving the gem to the level we want to reach.”

“That tells it where we want to travel,” Corran said, “but how do we activate the device?”

“I think that’s what this sphere is for,” Jarial said, poking at the globe. “Maybe once the opal is repositioned, we push or rotate the sphere.”

“We’ll never figure it out just standing here. Let’s give it a try.” Kestrel pulled the gem out of the wall and moved it up to the next vertex. “If Ghleanna’s theory is correct, we should wind up one level above, in the room we entered before.”

They all entered the dancing lights and moved to the center of the rune. Jarial reached toward the globe. “Ready?”

The moment he touched the golden sphere, the lights spun wildly about the perimeter of the rune, circling a half dozen times before returning to their usual state. The party waited expectantly, but nothing more happened.

“Maybe it’s not as easy as we thought,” Durwyn said.

Kestrel went back to study the diamond pattern again. She frowned in concentration. “Perhaps we need to do more than merely reposition the ruby.”

“Ruby?” Ghleanna said. “It was an opal, was it not?”

Kestrel glanced at the sorceress in surprise. “You’re right—the ruby was in the first room.” She turned back to the pattern, now noticing the tiny scratch marks at the bottom of the pattern. “Here are the marks I made trying to pry it out.”

Corran walked to the doorway and peered into the corridor. “Sure enough. We’re back on the third level.”

“Ha! That’s a pretty good trick,” Nottle said. “Gettin’ around the dungeons will be a piece o’cake now.” The halfling fairly skipped toward the door. “I’m gonna check on my wagon. See you folks later.” He nearly exited before turning around once more. “Oh—if ye ever git tired o’ toting around Borea’s Blood, ye know where t’find me.”

They watched him depart. “Let’s get back to the House of Gems,” Corran said.

Kestrel plucked the ruby out of the wall and inserted it in the topmost vertex. She reentered the dancing lights and nodded at Jarial. “Go ahead.”

The wizard touched the golden sphere. This time the lights raced so quickly and flashed so brightly that Kestrel squeezed her eyes shut. She opened them a moment later, expecting to find herself in another identical room.

Not in the belly of a dragon.

The unpredictable Rohnglyn had landed them in an enormous oval-shaped hall. Elaborate murals and mosaics of dragons covered the walls, some studded with precious stones to depict gem dragons. Small round windows served as the dragons’ eyes, allowing the first sunlight they’d seen in days to spill into the room. The hall’s beams and columns were intricately carved in the same motif. Blue, red, green, and black dragon tails spiraled white pillars, while silver dragon claws cradled glowing orbs at fixed intervals along the walls. On the ceiling, two great wyrms—one red, one gold—were locked in eternal combat.

Corran fixed Kestrel with an annoyed glare. “This isn’t the entrance to the House of Gems. What in blazes did you do?”

“Nothing! I just moved the gem to the top—I’m hardly an expert on this Rohnglyn thing, you know,” she retorted.

“Obviously.”

Durwyn turned in a slow circle, taking in their surprising new surroundings. “Where are we?”

Good question, Kestrel thought. Woven among all the dragon images were mysterious-looking runes and intricate knotwork patterns. The gilded railing along a second-floor balcony featured the most elaborate of these patterns. Similar designs were also set into the floor. Two rows of statues flanked the main walkway. These depicted sorcerers—some human, some elven, some of other races—all of whom appeared powerful, wise, and formidable.

“Wherever we are, this is a place of great magic,” Ghleanna murmured. “Can you feel it surround us?”

After witnessing Emmeric’s brutal death, magic was the last thing Kestrel wished to be surrounded by.

“Clearly, we’ve left the dungeons and are now above ground,” Jarial said. “I wonder if we have stumbled into the Speculum—the old wizards’ guildhall. When Ozama and I first came to Myth Drannor we saw the building perched near the castle in the city’s Heights. It is shaped like a giant dragon curled around an egg. The hall we now stand in is large enough to constitute most of the dragon’s body.”

“It’s so—still,” Kestrel said quietly. Something about the room inhibited speech, making her reluctant to use any but muted tones.

“I imagine the protective magics cast in and around this hall long ago have kept it safe from the desecration overtaking other parts of the city,” Jarial responded.

Durwyn stepped off the Rohnglyn rune. “As long as we’re here, let’s look around. Maybe the wizards left something behind that can help us.”

Kestrel let the others advance well into the room before she left the security of the Rohnglyn, not needing to look at the familiar scar on her wrist to recall the nasty surprises sorcerers could leave lying in wait. The injury in her thigh served as ample reminder of magical treachery, though the pain had subsided enough that she no longer favored the leg.

Once she started exploring the hall, however, she became caught up in the striking architecture and detailed renderings of dragon and sorcerer alike. Each depicted wizard appeared frozen in the process of casting a spell. An image crossed her mind of all the statues suddenly coming to life and the sorcery that would be unleashed. She shuddered. Thank the Lord of Shadows, they were all just sculptures.

At the end of the hall stood an empty pedestal, apparently still waiting patiently for the statue it would never receive. It stood about three feet high and had a wider base than the others, with recesses curling around its side that looked almost like steps. Curious about the view the elevated height would afford, she used the footholds to climb up.