The three stared at it. Thom's music sounded haunting.
'Well,' Mat said. 'We knew it wasn't a way out in the first place. We'll have to bargain our way free.' And I'll make bloody sure not to get hanged this time.
'Will the dice lead us?' Noal asked, rising.
Mat felt them in his coat pocket. 'I don't see why not.' But he did not take them out. He turned to regard the depths of the room. Thom's music seemed to have stilled some of the shadows. But others still moved. There was a restless energy to the air.
'Mat?' Thom asked.
'You knew I'd come back,' Mat said loudly. His voice did not echo. Light! How large was the thing? 'You knew I'd come marching back to your bloody realm, didn't you? You knew you'd have me eventually.'
Hesitant, Thom lowered his flute.
'Show yourselves!' Mat said. 'I can hear you scrambling, hear you breathing.'
'Mat,' Thom said, laying a hand on his shoulder. 'They couldn't have known that you'd come back. Moiraine didn't know that you'd come for certain.'
Mat watched the darkness. 'You ever see men lead cattle to slaughter, Thom?'
The gleeman hesitated, then shook his head.
'Well, every man has his own ways,' Mat said. 'But cattle, see, they'll know something is wrong. They'll smell the blood. They'll get frenzied, refuse to enter the slaughterhouse. And you know how you fix that?'
'Do we have to talk about this now, Mat?'
'You fix it,' Mat said, 'by taking them through the slaughterhouse a few times when it is clean, when the scents aren't so strong. You let them go through and escape, see, and they'll think the place is safe.' He looked at Thom. 'They knew I'd be back. They knew I'd survive that hanging. They know things, Thom. Burn me, but they do.'
'We'll get out, Mat,' Thom promised. 'We can. Moiraine saw it.'
Mat nodded firmly. 'Bloody right we will. They're playing a game, Thom. I win games.' He pulled a handful of dice from his pocket. I win them most of the time, anyway.
A voice whispered suddenly from behind them. 'Welcome, son of battles.'
Mat spun, cursing, glancing about the chamber.
'There,' Noal said, pointing with his staff. There was a figure beside one of the pillars, half lit by the yellow light. Another Eelfinn. Taller, his face more angular. His eyes reflected torchlight. Orange.
'I can take you where you wish to go,' the Eelfinn said, voice rough and gravelly. He raised an arm against the glow of the torches. 'For a price.'
'Thom, music.'
Thom began playing again.
'One of you already tried to get us to leave our tools behind,' Mat said. He pulled a torch from the pack over his arm, then thrust it to the side, lighting it on Noal's lantern. 'It won't work.'
The Eelfinn shied away from the new light, snarling softly. 'You come looking to bargain, yet you purposely antagonize? We have done nothing to earn this.'
Mat pulled the scarf free from his neck. 'Nothing?'
The creature made no response, though it did back away, stepping into the darker area between pillars. Its too-angular face was now only barely lit by the yellow lights.
'Why do you wish to speak with us, son of battles,' the whisperer said from the shadows, 'if you are not willing to bargain?'
'No,' Mat said. 'No bargaining until we reach the great hall, the Chamber of Bonds.' That was the only place where they would be bound to the agreement. Is that not what Birgitte had said? Of course, she had seemed to be relying on stories and hearsay herself.
Thom continued playing, eyes darting from side to side, trying to watch the shadows. Noal began to play the little cymbals he had tied to the legs of his trousers, tapping them in time with Thom's music. The shadows continued to move out there, however.
'Your… comforts will not slow us, son of battles,' a voice said from behind. Mat spun, lowering his weapon. Another Eelfinn stood there, just inside the shadows. A female, with a crest of red running down her back, the leather straps crossing her breasts in an 'X' pattern. Her red lips smiled. 'We are the near ancient, the warriors of final regret, the knowers of secrets.'
'Be proud, son of battles,' another voice hissed. Mat spun again, sweat dampening his brow. The female vanished back into the shadows, but another Eelfinn strolled through the light. He carried a long, wicked bronze knife, with a crosswork pattern of roses along its length and thorns sticking out near the top of the crossguard. 'You draw out our most skilled. You are to be… savored.'
'What—' Mat began, but the lean, dangerous-looking Eelfinn stepped back into the shadows and vanished. Too quickly. As if the darkness had absorbed him.
Other whispers began in the shadows, speaking in low voices, overlapping each other. Faces appeared from the darkness, inhuman eyes wide, lips curled in smiles. The creatures had pointed teeth.
Light! There were dozens of Eelfinn in the room. Shifting, moving about, dancing into the light, then jumping back into the dark. Some were casual, others energetic. All looked dangerous.
'Will you bargain?' one asked.
'You come without treaty. Dangerous,' said another.
'Son of battles.'
'The savor!'
'Feel his fear.'
'Come with us. Leave your terrible light.'
'A bargain must be made. We will wait.'
'Patient we are. Ever patient.'
'The savor!'
'Stop it!' Mat bellowed. 'No bargains! Not until we reach the center.'
At his side, Thom lowered the flute. 'Mat. I don't think the music is working anymore.'
Mat nodded curtly. He needed Thom ready with weapons. The gleeman tucked away his flute, getting out knives. Mat ignored the whispering voices and tossed the dice onto the ground.
As they rolled, a figure scuttled from the darkness beside the nearest pillar. Mat cursed, lowering his spear and striking at the Eelfinn, which moved across the ground on all fours. But his blade passed right through it, as if it were smoke.
Was it an illusion? A trick of the eyes? Mat hesitated long enough for another creature to snatch the dice and leap back toward the shadows.
Something sparkled in the air. Thom's dagger found its mark, striking the creature in the shoulder. This time the blade pierced and stayed, releasing a spray of dark blood.
Iron, Mat thought, cursing his stupidity. He spun the ashandarei around, using the side banded with iron. He shivered as he saw the Eelfinn's blood on the ground begin to steam. White steam, as in the other chambers, but this had shapes in it. They looked like twisted faces, appearing briefly and yelling before vanishing.
Burn them! He couldn't get distracted. He had other dice. He reached for his pocket, but an Eelfinn ducked from the shadows, as if to grab at his coat.
Mat spun his weapon, striking the side of the fox male's face with the banded iron. He crushed bone, tossing the creature to the side like a bundle of sticks.
Hisses and growls surrounded them. Eyes shifted in the darkness, reflecting torchlight. The Eelfinn moved, cloaked in blackness, surrounding Mat and the others. Mat cursed, taking a step in the direction of the Eelfinn he had struck.
'Mat!' Thom said, grabbing the cuff of his coat. 'We can't wade into that.'
Mat hesitated. It seemed that the stink from before was stronger, the scent of beasts. Shadows moved all about, more frantic now, their whispers angry and mixed with yipping calls.
'They control the darkness,' Noal said. He stood with his back to Mat and Thom, wary. 'Those yellow lights are to distract us; there are breaks in them and sheltered alcoves. It's all a trick.'
Mat felt his heart beating rapidly. A trick? No, not just a trick. There was something unnatural about the way
