Adventurers and troglodytes both staggered about or stood struck senseless by the mind-whelming power of the umber hulks’ quadruple eyes. Others flew into blind berserk fury, lashing out at whatever was near, friend or foe.
“No amount of coin is worth this,” Jack muttered. “I hereby forswear dungeon-delving forever. There must be easier ways to throw away one’s life.”
Kurzen went down cursing, his leg yanked out from under him by a sweep of an umber hulk’s talons. The monster’s next strike crumpled the dwarf’s shield like tin, and the monster opened its mandibles wide to slice the dwarf in half-but it suddenly buckled in agony as Myrkyssa Jelan slashed it across its chitin-covered back. Arlith, overcome by the power of the umber hulks’ eyes, dropped her crossbow and fled the room, running off in blind panic. Half a dozen of the surviving troglodytes scattered and ran with her, some likewise confused and some simply abandoning the fight. Narm pressed forward to hack at another one of the hulks, while Halamar slung fire left and right and Jelan’s mage-the elf with sword and wand-hammered darts of magical force at the umber hulk Jelan had wounded.
Jack reversed the dagger with which he’d killed the troglodyte and took aim at the umber hulk fighting Narm. His throw took the creature in one of its large, multifaceted eyes. The hulk howled with a high screech of pain until the half-orc ducked under its fumbling grasp to drive his sword through a chink in its armor. The last umber hulk abruptly wheeled and fled, trampling over a couple of troglodytes who were milling about in their confusion. Jack wheeled, looking for another foe, but the troglodytes were all dead or in retreat, as were the umber hulks. Only the two parties of adventurers still faced each other.
“Who in the Nine Hells are you fellows?” Narm demanded, facing Jelan’s tiefling and his sword of ebony flames.
“The Moon Dagger Company,” the tiefling snarled. “And who are you?”
“Jack Ravenwild,” said Myrkyssa Jelan. She drew a small cloth from her belt to wipe the black gore from her katana, but kept her sword ready to hand as she cleaned it. “You have the infuriating habit of turning up when least expected.”
“Who is this, Jack?” Kurzen asked. He was limping, but he seemed like he could still fight.
“Myrkyssa Jelan, once the Warlord of the Vast,” Jack answered. He did not take his eyes off her. “And I fail to see how my presence here interferes with any business of yours, because I am simply following a design of my own. In fact, I might ask exactly what your purpose here is, Elana. What are you up to?”
“I am here for the Sarkonagael, of course,” Jelan replied.
“We were here first. The book is ours.”
“That remains to be seen.” She coolly surveyed Jack’s companions, taking their measure.
Jack fumed, glancing at the open archway leading to the temple. The situation was simply intolerable. Even if they agreed to retrieve the book together and split the reward, he was suddenly short half the purse he’d hoped to win with this little expedition. Or, worse yet, Jelan might have no intention of turning in the Sarkonagael for any kind of reward. She’d gotten her hands on that book once before and proceeded to employ its dark powers to create all sorts of mayhem in the city. If she still had an interest in it, Jack was certain it could be for no good reason.
To buy himself a moment to regain his composure, he met Jelan’s gaze and demanded, “How did you know it was here?”
“I arranged for the book’s location to be divined, of course.”
“Not so fast,” Jack shot back. “I am well acquainted with your peculiar condition, Elana. You are completely unaffected by magic. A diviner could do nothing to help you find the tome.”
Jelan allowed herself a small smile. “Well, in that you are correct. However, two people learn the result of a divination, do they not?”
Jack spluttered in outrage. “Why, that is unheard of! Diviners are supposed to adhere to a strict code of professional ethics respecting their clients’ confidentiality.”
“It would appear that I made Aderbleen Krestner a more convincing offer than you did,” Jelan answered. She turned and said something to the elf standing behind her … and the elf abruptly raised his wand at Jack and his companions, speaking a spell in his own language.
“On your guard!” Narm shouted, and surged forward-but at that instant a roaring wall of green fire sprang into life around Jack and his friends, ringing them where they stood. The half-orc jerked back from the searing flames with an oath; Kurzen and Arlith raised their weapons, ready to defend themselves, but Jelan and her mercenaries simply left Jack’s party trapped within the ring of flames.
“Forgive me, Jack, but I have a book to retrieve!” Jelan shouted through the roaring of the fire. “Stay where you are, and you shouldn’t be harmed. My mage Kilarnan-” the elf gave a small smile, and bowed at the mention of his name-“informs me that the flames will abate in a quarter-hour or so. I caution you not to follow me; if I have to discourage pursuit more forcefully, I’ll do so without a moment’s hesitation.”
Jelan raised her mailed hand to her brow in a mocking salute, then motioned to her mercenaries. As Jack and his comrades watched through the flames, the Warlord wheeled and strode boldly through the gate leading to the inner temple. Her mercenaries followed after her.
“They’re going to beat us to the prize,” Narm snarled. “Now what?”
Jack thought quickly. His instinct was to pursue at once, wall of fire or not … but if any more monsters waited in the temple proper, perhaps it would be better to let Jelan and her followers take their measure first. “Halamar, do you have a way to protect us against the flames?”
Halamar, the fire-sorcerer, gave a low laugh. “Trust me, fire is the least of my concerns. We can exit whenever we like.”
“And Arlith is still outside,” Kurzen observed. “If Halamar can protect us against the elf’s magic, then what are we waiting for? Let’s get out of this infernal trap. I mean to have a word or two with that so-called warlord.”
Jack raised his hand, motioning for patience. “Not yet, friend Kurzen,” he said. “Let Jelan find out what dangers wait in the temple. When she returns this way, it will seem that we are caught perfectly in her wizard’s cage … but we’ll simply be waiting to ambush her and take back our book.”
Kurzen ran his hand over his short-cropped hair and nodded. “I like it,” he decided. “Do we kill them, or just teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget?”
“I want the book, but I am not sure that I’m prepared to murder for it,” Jack replied. “Spare them if you can.” He was trying to become respectable, after all, and while the authorities might not make much of rival companies brawling in the dungeons below the city, deaths tended to invite official interest of the sort Jack didn’t want. He sheathed his rapier and dropped his pack from his shoulders to the flagstones, seating himself on the ground. He was rapidly becoming aware of a dozen small aches, pains, and injuries that he hadn’t noticed in the heat of the fighting; a brief respite seemed in order. “Rest now. They’ll be out soon enough.”
Jack drank deeply from his waterflask, then bandaged a nasty gouge just above his left boot where the spike of a troglodyte’s club had missed crushing his shinbone by a whisker. The emerald flames continued to dance and crackle around the small company; inside the circle it was growing uncomfortably warm, and perspiration gleamed on each face. Narm and Kurzen talked quietly as they drank from their own flasks, weighing the best strategy for taking down the Moon Daggers quickly. The minutes dragged on, and still Jelan’s party did not appear; Jack hoped that meant they were busy sorting through an immense pile of loot and hadn’t simply found the book and made their exit through some other passageway on the far side of the temple.
The mage Halamar came and sat down beside Jack, bringing his pipe out of his robes. “Is this truly the Myrkyssa Jelan of legend that we are facing?” he asked.
“That is the very Myrkyssa Jelan you have just met,” Jack said. “She, and I, were magically imprisoned for the last century, and released only a few tendays ago.”
“Astonishing. I thought she was only a myth, a legend. No one could do the things she is said to have done.”
“You don’t know her as well as I do,” Jack said glumly. He liked their chances of catching Jelan off guard … but that woman was damnably competent. He didn’t care for the idea of crossing swords with her again. “Listen, my friend: When we move against the Warlord’s company, deal with her wizard if you can. No spell of yours will have any affect at all on Jelan herself. She is completely immune to magic.”
“So that much of the legend is true,” Halamar mused. He fell silent for a moment, frowning in thought.
