'Gods, I hope Fannah is all right,' she said shakily. 'We've got to keep searching.'
Seeing that the Lurker's study was a dead end, Tazi and Steorf exited back through the counsel room and entered the hallway. The next few doors exposed only innocuous rooms with no one occupying them. Tazi tried not to get discouraged.
'Ciredor might have moved her,' Steorf said quietly, voicing both their unspoken fears.
'She's here,' Tazi asserted. 'She's got to be.'
Almost at the end of the tunnel, there was one door left. Tazi breathed deeply and swung it open. The room was ordinary enough, almost a parlor. Besides a large divan and a desk, there were many bookcases and a few tapestries adorning the walls. Candles were everywhere and they lent the chamber a cheery glow. Toward the back of the room, Tazi could see a large loom with Fannah seated behind it, busy with a shuttle in her hand. Tazi nearly laughed aloud.
'Fannah,' she cried with delight.
At the sound of Tazi's voice, Fannah raised her sightless face and tilted it.
'Tazi,' she replied, 'you're back.'
While Steorf guarded the doorway, Tazi made her way to Fannah's side. The two women clasped hands briefly, and Tazi couldn't wipe the smile from her face.
'Did you find out what you wanted?' Fannah asked her.
'I think I discovered what we needed to know,' Tazi answered, glancing down at Fannah's loom.
She was momentarily startled to see an elaborate tower with a blue glow radiating from it on Fannah's tapestry.
'What's this?' she asked her sightless friend.
'I hate to interrupt,' Steorf called from the doorway, 'but I really think we should be going.'
'He's right. Let's get out of here,' Tazi ordered. 'We need to get somewhere safe.'
Both she and Steorf flanked Fannah and they started to make their way out of the tunnels. In the main chamber, which was still deserted save for the unconscious bodies of the fallen Children of Ibrandul, they passed by the overturned dais. Fannah's sandaled foot struck a few of the papers. She stopped and knelt down.
'What are you doing?' Tazi asked, at first thinking that Fannah had lost her footing.
However, she could see that her blind friend was carefully gathering the fallen pieces of parchment from the ground.
'Just because we have not seen eye to eye, so to speak, with the Children of Ibrandul doesn't mean these people are evil,' Fannah explained. 'I would not wish these writings to be defiled unnecessarily.'
'Make it quick,' Tazi told her. 'Steorf, keep a watch on the inner door there.'
She motioned to the entrance they had just come from.
It took Fannah a few moments to collect all the dropped pages. Tazi stood guard over her with one blade drawn.
'Hurry, Fannah,' she admonished, but saw that a frown had crossed her friend's face. 'What is it?'
Fannah rose carefully to her feet with the bundle of writings stacked in her hands.
She handed them to Tazi and asked, 'Are these all part of the book they spoke of?'
Tazi frowned as well but accepted the sheaf of vellum. After sheathing her sword, she flipped through them all carefully before she answered Fannah.
'As far as I can tell, they are all written in the same hand. Why do you ask?'
'Because,' Fannah said slowly, 'this bundle is significantly heavier now than it was yesterday.'
'Are you sure?' she asked seriously.
Fannah looked at her squarely with her white eyes and said, 'I am very certain.'
Before either woman had a chance to comment on the implications of that fact, Steorf rushed to their side.
'Ladies, I suggest we exit as quickly as possible. There was definitely something slithering in one of the rear chambers,' he told them.
Together, the three of them fled the Muzad.
CHAPTER 11
'It's gone,' the Mysterious Lurker nearly cried. 'It's gone.'
The old priest wandered around the main chamber, paying little attention to the two injured novices who stood there looking nervous. He had eyes only for the once again upright, but very empty, dais.
'How could this have happened?' he moaned.
'How could what have happened?' a deadly voice repeated from the darkness.
The Lurker whirled and nearly tripped on his own robes that were tangled around his legs. He watched with growing fear as Ciredor separated himself from the deep shadows behind the dais. The priest could see that the necromancer was already seething with anger. Thoughts of running crossed his mind, but he knew there was no choice but to face the dark mage.
'Lord,' he cried, 'those gharabs have fled with the sacred writings of Ibrandul. I cannot begin to… to apologize.'
He clutched at his robes defensively.
'What happened?' Ciredor demanded.
'A-a few hours ago,' the priest stammered out, 'the two Sembians found their way back to this chamber from the Muzad and stole the book.'
'I thought you were going to take care of them,' Ciredor taunted him. 'They escaped your trap with the aranea, but you swore they would never return here alive.'
The Lurker dropped his robes and wrung his hands together.
'They wouldn't have,' he nearly screeched, 'if that pariah, Asraf, had obeyed his orders.' He continued on a higher tone, having found someone else to share the blame with. 'If these two-' he paused and pointed to the two Children of Ibrandul-'had been stronger in their faith, they would have stopped those Sembians here… permanently.'
'Leave this room,' Ciredor told the Children of Ibrandul, suddenly very aware of their presence.
When they hesitated, he hissed, 'Now!'
They fled without a backward glance at the Lurker, who felt very alone.
Ciredor slowly paced around the priest. The Lurker bowed his head under Ciredor's deliberate scrutiny and came to accept the fact that it was his responsibility alone regarding the safekeeping of Ibrandul's tome. He couldn't blame the others.
'What shall we do?' Ciredor whispered silkily. 'Now that the book is gone and, I assume, Fannah as well, what do you suggest?'
All the while, he circled the priest.
It was all too much for the disciple of Ibrandul to bear. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
'It's my fault entirely,' he sobbed. 'You discovered those amazing words, dedicated your whole life to retrieving them, and now, in one moment, I've lost them.' The Lurker prostrated himself on the ground and cried, 'I have betrayed my god. I don't deserve to live!'
Ciredor stood over him and tapped his foot. Seizing on an idea, the mage slowly sank to his knees and gathered the Lurker's shoulders in his steely grip.
He flipped the priest around to face him and said, 'So you wish to die? Very well.'
The Lurker broke free of Ciredor's icy hands and scuttled, crablike, a few steps back. His heart was pounding. He watched as Ciredor rose gracefully to his feet and reached with his right hand into a fold of his black silks. The priest cringed as the dark mage withdrew a glowing, amethyst gem and held it in his outstretched hand. The sight of the unholy artifact froze the Lurker's blood in his veins.
