Florin tried to peer in all directions, seeking Lord Crownsilver, Sembian wizards, slavering monsrers, or… well, anyone approaching.
He saw nothing like that. In the darkness, he couldn't really see much at all. He dug in his pouch for the little glowstone Vangerdahast had given him-had given all the Knights, and weren't they very likely to bear enchantments that would let the Royal Magician trace their whereabouts at will? He set it down and sent it skittering across the floor.
Well, now. This 'elsewhere' they'd all somehow landed in seemed to be a deserred room somewhere very grand. 'Very grand' as in very high ceilings and large rooms, with walls covered in unpainted wooden panels with carved frames, borders, fluted half pillars, and heavily ornate scrollwork supporting… well, curlicues. All cut out of the same dark wood.
As grand as some of the rooms he'd seen in the Royal Palace in Suzail. The room mighr be underground, but it didn't seem as damp as, say, that cellar. Nor did it smell of earth. Dust lay everywhere, like a thick, furry blanket, but the only bits of rubble he could see were small, fresh chips and flecks of stone around and under the Knights. That looked as if the Knights had brought it along with them.
Someone else groaned loudly. Semoor.
Florin stood up, wincing-one of his shins wasn't any too happy with its present condition, it seemed-and staggered around the fallen Knights, looking for wounds and anyrhing missing. He winced when he saw the crossbow quarrel through Islif's arm.
Doust silently joined him. 'If you slice it off here,' the priest said, pointing, 'and slide it out, I'll have a healing spell ready before she loses roo much blood.'
'How much has she losr already?' Florin asked. tui yrcmwooa 'More than enough,' Islif whispered, startling them both, 'but I'll live. Do it.' Her eyes were still closed, and she lay sprawled as if unconscious.
Florin used his dagger to saw through the shaft of the quarrel, then left Doust to his work. He went around to examine the rest of the Knights.
Everyone was accounted for. It appeared, looking over the litter of weapons lying strewn around them, that everything they'd been wearing or carrying had made the journey with them, too. Plus all the stone shards he'd noticed.
Made the journey, more or less, he amended his judgment. Pennae now seemed to be wearing as much soot as leathers.
Was she-? When he laid a fingertip gingerly on one bared, scraped shoulder, her eyes snapped open, and she uncoiled like a whirlwind to clutch at his hand.
'Easy, lass,' Florin said. ' 'Tis just me.'
She turned her head until she could fix him with one sparkling eye and said, 'You're never just you, big ranger man.'
Semoor started to chuckle-until the dust made him choke. Evidently his eyes had been open, too, and the glowstone he had out had given him light enough to see the expression on Florin's face.
The ranger cleared his throar loudly and told Pennae, 'I, ah, have to check on the others. Ah, right now.' He hastily turned away.
Pennae rolled onto her side, wincing, and then made it up to a sitting position.
'Naed, but I hurt.' Jhessail gasped, flinching, as Florin helped her sit up. 'Where by the Nine crackling Hells are we?' Florin shrugged. 'I have no idea.'
'Neither do I,' Pennae said, struggling to her feet and clutching at her hip and then at her knee, ere limping a few tentative steps away, 'but I know how we got here.'
'Enlighten us,' Doust told her.
'That tracer gem explosion awakened a portal behind us-a portal that must have been there for a long time but was hidden. I saw just a glimpse of it, as I was being flung back at it. It must have snatched all of us-and this litter of stones and suchlike, too-out of the cellar as rhe place collapsed.'
'So Lord Crownsilver's pet wizards blew him and themselves up?' Semoor asked. 'That's rich!'
Pennae shook her head. 'They'd just spun their own portal, remember? It would do the same thing to them, taking them wherever they'd set the portal to reach.'
The Light of Lathander frowned. 'So they could be somewhere nearby.'
'Yes,' she replied. 'Glowstones out, everyone. I think we're in some sort of palace.'
'I think so, too,' Florin murmured from where he'd stooped to recover the glowstone he'd sent journeying across the floor. 'And I see an archway yonder and a closed door over that way.'
'Let's leave closed doors closed, for now,' Jhessail said, wincing and rubbing one of her elbows.
'Agreed,' Florin said, looking around at everyone. 'Any grievous wounds? Can everyone walk?'
'Being as we seem to keep losing our horses…' Jhessail replied with a frown, 'I seem to be getting steadily better at walking.'
Everyone pulled out their glowstones, and the light in the room grew with them. Semoor got a good look at Pennae, and he leered appreciatively.
'Like em?' she asked calmly and without waiting for a reply added, 'Can't have em!'
'I'm making like a good Cormyrean, successful and wealthy and settled in Suzail,' the priest replied innocently. 'I'm window-shopping.'
Doust and Jhessail snorted in amusement, and even Pennae grinned.
She shook her head and waved a finger in mock warning. 'That tongue of yours, lad…'
'Yes?' Semoor asked brightly, hope shining in his eyes.
'Never mind. We've a palace to explore, or hadn't you noticed, lost in your unholy fixation on my charms?'
Semoor looked aggrieved, though his eyes were dancing. 'Madam, you wound me! 'Unholy' how? Lathander warmly embraces new beginnings, and I perceive an opportunity to warmly embrace-'
'My left hand, crushing your codpiece and all it contains, if you don't leave off, Bright Morninglord of Lust!' Pennae snapped. 'Now belt up! Some of us have work to do that just might keep the rest of us alive. And spare me whatever clever little jest you were trying to think up about how this could be another 'new beginning,' too.'
Above them both, Florin was standing by the archway, glowstone raised, peering into the darkness arid ignoring their dispute. Without looking back, he waved his hand to get their attention. 'Kick some of the stones we brought with us together into a little heap to mark this room for later. We'll have to start exploring or just die of thirst-and I don't think we should split up or leave anyone behind. For any reason.'
Semoor obediently applied his boots to sliding most of the stones together, then looked up. 'Done. Let's go exploring. I'm getting hungry.'
'Would that be a holy hunger?' Islif teased.
'One of mine,' the priest replied, drawing smoothly back out of Pennae's reach. 'One of mine.'
He strode to join Florin. 'Come. None of us is getting any younger.'
The little, out-of-the-way room in the Royal Palace of Suzail where Vangerdahast was closeted with his most trusted Wizard of War had no name, and the Royal Magician liked it that way. He'd have been even happier if it hadn't ever appeared on any floor plans of the Palace, even though he'd done his level best for years now to track down and seize every last formal or hand-drawn charting of anything architectural about the most royal of buildings in Suzail.
Vangerdahast enjoyed having and knowing secrets, liked having hideaways where no one would be able to track him down and disturb him, and especially valued being able to occasionally take off his boots, fart, belch, scratch himself, and genuinely relax in the company of someone who wasn't offended by such behavior.
That the 'someone' was a beautiful woman whom he trusted and regarded as a friend made her company that much more precious. Despite the facts that they were both-aside from his boots-fully clad and likely to remain so, and they were discussing grave business of the realm.
Specifically, the most pressing problems the Wizards of War needed to deal with.
'Then there's the matter of the Hidden Princess,' he said heavily across the little table where they sat crouching, murmuring almost nose to nose.
'That never seems to go away,' Laspeera said, nodding. 'What now, specifically?'
'Some of the elder Illances have gotten it into their heads that I'm up to something.'
