over with a choked cry.
'You little traitors'll pay for that,' the man grunted, as he stabbed again at the dodging Meloon. 'You have no idea what you've stumbled into.'
The man backed up the corridor, his features masked in hatred. Meloon pressed forward, and Laraelra could not see his face.
'Granek Ruskelver, I remember you,' Renaer said. 'You were drummed out of the Watch last year for accepting bribes and conduct unbecoming a Watchman.'
Granek flinched, looked down briefly at Renaer, and his singular eye shot him a look of revulsion. 'You got no idea how this city really is, rich boy. You'll find out what happens when you trip over the plans of the mighty. I did my job well for Ten-Rings, and no young sellsword's gonna drop me!' Granek swung hard and fast at
Meloon, who brought his arm up. The sword scored a long, wound along his left forearm, crossing two thick white scars from some previous battles. When Meloon shoved his axe up to force the blade away, the sword's point stabbed into the mortar in the wall.
Granek's eyes widened as he tugged to free his weapon, and Meloon brought the axe down hard on Granek's overextended right leg. Granek screamed as he fell to the ground, clutching the stump of his leg and groaning. After a few moments, he passed out.
Meloon whispered, 'I'm still striding. How about you?'
Steven E. Schend
Blackstaff Tower
Renaer stood, noting he and Meloon had both been sprayed with Granek's blood from his leg wound, and blood already covered the floor. Vharem shoved his way past both of them, muttering, 'Want to get that wizard before he can cast on anyone again.'
Laraelra yelled, 'Vharem, no! Don't be a fool!' I don't think Renaer could handle another death tonight, she thought. I don't think I could either.
Meloon reached out for him and grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling Vharem short. 'Don't let Faxhal's death make you run to your own.'
Vharem shot Meloon a look mixed with anger and grief, then shrugged off Meloon's grip, only to find Renaer blocking his path.
'Don't lose your head,' Renaer said, his eyes welling with tears. 'We will get that wizard, but I don't want to lose another friend tonight. We're here to save someone, not lose everyone.'
'Caution is good,' Laraelra said, 'but we do have to hurry. That spell I hit the Blackstaff with won't last long. I can try it again, but he may have some defenses up against it now. Our best bet is to find and save that woman. We'll avenge Faxhal another night.'
'I'll take point. I'm a bit tougher than the rest of you,' Meloon said. He kneeled by the fallen young Watchman and ripped off his sleeve, then wrapped his bloodied forearm in one scrap of cloth and wiped off his axe blade with the rest.
Laraelra moved closer and helped him wrap his makeshift bandage around his forearm. She whispered, 'Thank you, Meloon. If he'd run on ahead…'
'I know,' he muttered. 'Seen it happen before.'
'Don't think that you won't get paid,' Laraelra said, 'just because we're becoming friends. You'll be compensated as agreed this morning.' She put the finishing touches on the bandage and pulled it tight, then smiled at the blond bear of a man.
He returned her smile and said, 'Friendships are better currency anyway.' From his crouch, he grabbed the empty crossbow off the floor and stood. 'Well, what's the plan, Renaer?'
'All we know about the end of this corridor,' Renaer said, 'is on my maps and notes-and the fact that we've a very angry archmage, or someone powerful enough to impersonate him. I want to get to the bottom of this, but I don't want to die.'
'We are not leaving without killing him!' Vharem choked. 'Don't let Faxhal's death mean nothing!'
'He meant as much to me as to you,' Renaer said, 'but I'm not willing to risk our lives. We can go back and I can hire many more sellswords-' -
'And he'll have us arrested for trying to attack the Blackstaff,' Laraelra said, 'the Watchful Order, or some other trumped-up charge. And he'll have this area so well protected we'll never get in again or find out who they were torturing or why. We have to do this now, Renaer, risks and all. Let's find the woman we came to save-that is what Faxhal died for.'
The four looked at each other, nodded, and Renaer said, 'Very well. Our secret corridor-which they discovered somehow- exits behind a privy. We should turn left and into a corridor lined with doors.'
Vharem lined up behind Meloon, leaving Renaer and Laraelra to cover their backs. As the others moved forward, Laraelra felt something touch her foot. She looked down to see a very weak and trembling Granek, whose lone eye locked on hers. 'Help…,' he pleaded.
Renaer stepped over and said, 'Even before tonight, Granek, before your lackey killed my friend, you deserved this death. Alone, in the dark, no one to mourn you.'
Renaer kicked the man's grasp loose from Laraelra's boot and moved away, taking the lantern with him.
Shadows falling on his form, Granek pleaded with Laraelra, 'Lass, mercy.'
Laraelra hugged herself, staring at Renaer's back, but she understood his cold anger, remembering her own when she heard his words earlier. She looked Granek in the eye and said, 'Nay, before the gods, torturers deserve no mercy. Ask it of Kelemvor when you see him.' She snapped her cloak tight around her as she turned to follow Renaer.
They moved quickly and found Meloon and Vharem stopped by the opened secret door, the privy seat still attached to it and turned to one side.
'What's the problem?' Renaer asked.
'No pit,' Meloon said, his brow furrowed. He dropped the crossbow and kicked it across the floor, only to watch it disappear through apparently solid stone and clatter loudly as it fell down a shaft. 'Hmph. Neat trick, that.'
'How did you know that was there?' Laraelra asked.
Meloon grinned. 'Saw the seat and knew someone had to have dug one. You dig those enough times, you remember how much work is hidden beneath a lot of dung.' He knelt, grabbed a loose rock and scratched an X at the near side of the pit. He reached back and said, 'Lend a hand, please.' He grabbed Vharem's forearm to keep from falling into the hidden shaft and then leaned forward, closing his eyes and tapping ahead with the rock in his hand. When he touched solid rock again instead of illusion, he scratched an X there as well, and said, 'Haul me back, Vharem, and then everybody, jump past the second mark!'
He got to his feet, took his axe in both hands, and jumped across easily. The rest of the group followed suit. As Renaer landed, a woman's harsh screams rang out around the corner.
The quartet ran around the corner into a slim corridor, two doors lining each side of it. The screams seemed to come from the one on the far right. Meloon starred forward, but Vharem bolted ahead of all of them. He ran to the door, reached for the handle, and his hand passed through the illusion. He stumbled forward, off-balance, and Vharem's world went red as fire exploded all around him. The blast knocked him off his feet and threw him back down the corridor. His sword, dislodged from his left hand, bounced across the hall and hit the opposite door. This too exploded in a blast of flame and heat, but Vharem was already down and the explosion passed over him. With the explosion came another shriek from beyond the door.
'Vharem!' Renaer yelled, and he rushed to the fallen man.
His leathers and hair all smoking, Vharem tried to talk but just coughed. Much of his long brown hair fell away in singed clumps, and his face and hands were blistered, but he fought to stand again.
Renaer dragged him back against the wall and away from the doorways, saying 'Rest here, friend. Catch your breath.'
Vharem winced as he flexed his fingers and watched thick, blackened flakes of his skin crack off his hand.
Renaer pulled out a small vial from his belt. 'Drink, V.' He poured the contents of the vial over his friend's cracked and soot-stained lips, and the cracks instantly healed. The worst blistering on Vharem's face and hands subsided and returned to his normal skin tone. Even his hair began to regrow.
