What about there? Lukas said. That looks more direct. He indicated another way, an arched tunnel at the cavern s southern end, higher and broader and straighter than the path Amaka had chosen. An army could have passed under the brick vault.
Amaka shuddered. That s the fomorian road, now. Have you seen them? Giants grease-colored skins, and they make a stink. A hundred of them together could come through here. And their eyes
What?
They kill you with a look, if they come close.
Her step was unsteady, her speech slurred and halting Lukas wondered if her own father had somehow poisoned her. But then she glanced at him and glanced away, and he thought that she was merely afraid, too afraid to function. What sense did that make? She was a drow. These corridors should have no power over her. The Underdark had been her home.
If anything they were too shallow still. The way she led them, the tiles continued for a quarter mile or so then gave out. The path sloped down precipitously, a curling spiral of rough steps hacked out of the rock. No dwarf had shaped this stone. Lady Amaranth lit the way, but even without her the passage would not have been completely dark, because of the phosphorescent fungus on many of the rocks, where the drow had cultivated a pale glow to steer them up and down.
It occurred to Lukas how foolish they were being, to trust in this uncertain guide. This goes too deep, he said.
We ll take the other way. We ll take our chances with the fomorians. Anyway, I saw no one
No, said Amaka, seizing him by the wrist. She was in front, leading the way down, but now she turned and grabbed hold of both his hands, as if in supplication. The leShay will catch you there. Already they will have sent their soldiers. But they ll never dare to follow you down here. And if they did, one man could hold the passage. It s so narrow.
Lukas hesitated.
They go to the same place! she said. Cambrent Gap, just as you wanted. I swear to you on the Shrine of Araushnee s Virginity, before she was abandoned long ago.
What kind of oath was that? Lukas thought. The dark elves goddess was the biggest slut in the entire pantheon, and that was saying a great deal. This curving staircase reeked of them, a sweet yet poisonous scent that reminded him of night-blooming jasmine, which his stepmother had grown in her kitchen garden.
And yet he still found himself climbing downward through the rocks. Why was that? Simple the girl begged him. Her beautiful dark face was streaked with tears, impossible to resist. She needed his help. It would have been cowardly to turn away, abandon her for something as ephemeral and uncertain as rational decisions or good sense. This was why, Lukas told himself, it was absurd for him to be or to ever have been captain of this crew. This was why the Sphinx was at the bottom of the sea. And yet it was why the others followed him without a murmur of dissent, why they clambered single file after him; first Amaranth, holding up her lamp, then Gaspar-shen, and finally the druid, now in her human shape, barefoot, dressed in her wolf skin.
Besides, he told himself. There was another reason he allowed the girl to pull him downward. All his life he had heard stories of the Underdark, the system of enormous caverns and limitless tunnels that founded the entire continent of Faer n, puncturing the rotten rock and causing sinkholes, cave-ins, and whirlpools on the surface a system part excavated and part natural, inhabited by hundreds of thousands of creatures who never saw the light, entire races and civilizations. Lower down, Lukas imagined, he might find dark cities and monstrous farms of bloated vegetables and pale livestock. He might find subterraneous rivers and even seas, where the fishermen lit torches to lure enormous purblind creatures from the deep.
For a moment he had a crazy notion that he could raise up Lady Amaranth to rule here as a queen, in a black and shadow palace lit with crystal lanterns. What else? Did it really make sense to bring her penniless to Alaron? To do what work in a shop for a thousand years and more? Perhaps she and Suka could open a tattoo parlor in Llewellyn Harbor or Callidyrr: Feywild Dreaming, or maybe Madame leShay s Skin Boutique Body Shoppe, or maybe even The Rose of Sarifal whatever, as Suka herself might say. She wouldn t want to spend even remotely that much time with another female, in any case. Two weeks was about her limit, as Lukas had learned on board the Sphinx. Though of course Lukas himself would be long dead, a pleasant thought under those circumstances.
The way broadened and the ceiling rose above them, beyond the princess s light. Every step they took, Amaka seemed more terrified. She had her hand on Lukas s wrist, and she pulled him onward, while at the same time she muttered words that seemed ridiculous to him for a drow priestess, a handmaid of the Queen of the Demonweb Pits, Ah, Goddess, never to see the sun again or walk under the stars, never to feel the wind on my face or the grass under my feet
As they moved farther into this new cavern, Lukas would have welcomed a little less wind in his face. He didn t know what she was complaining about. They had climbed down into a new circle where the air was hot and humid and full of grit. Up ahead, fire burned at the entrance to another tunnel, a line of flickering red flame on the surface of the rock. Sulfurous gas escaped from a wide vent.
Beside the entrance to this farther tunnel, the stone had been worked a statue, one collapsed and broken, one whole, on either side of the red entrance. Amaka pulled Lukas forward, but he resisted, and freed his hand with a twist. He looked back toward the narrow defile behind him, where Gaspar-shen stood with his scimitar drawn, and then to the other dark niches in the cavern s walls grottoes, or else the entrances to other tunnels in the porous rock. Flames flickered in some of them, or else a faintly glowing haze.
Lukas smiled and shook his head. I m not going in there.
The statue on one side was a knight in armor, his head bowed, his back against the living rock, his sword held like a cross in front of him, the blade between his hands. He was bareheaded, and his features were noble, though eroded, perhaps, by the same constant wind that filled Lukas s nose with powdery sand. On the other side only the base was left, a reptilian shape with powerful legs and claws, perhaps a dragon or a basilisk.
Lukas put up his hands. I m not going in there, he said again. We ll go back up, take the fomorian road.
He already knew he had been played. It wasn t the first time. But as he looked at Amaka s desperate face, he wondered if she d done this thing against her will. Please she faltered, as her red eyes darted wildly from one entrance to another. Lukas drew his sword. Lady Amaranth and Eleuthra stood behind him, the druid still in her human shape. The princess was holding her lamp high. Douse the light, he said, too late. They were surrounded by the drow swordsmen, who had stepped forward from the niches and wormholes in the rock.
He held up his own sword, wishing for a moment that the Savage stood with him. Then they d have had a chance. He smiled, held out his hand toward Amaka, and made a little bow, while at the same time he looked past her toward the tunnel s mouth, where a dark figure stepped forward from between the statues, an unarmed woman, her white hair glistening pink in the red light. Give your father my thanks, she said to Amaka. I knew he would not disappoint us.
Now she came out into the brighter glow, and he could see her face. She was smaller than many of her race. She was beautiful, like all the dark elves, but with a haunted, used, imperious expression she had none of Amaka s freshness even in despair. Her pink hair was streaked with black and gray and rust. Lukas imagined she held some kind of cold magic in her hands, as she moved her fingers in a practiced gesture. I am no, you don t need to know my name. I am the guardian of this sacred place. Then she threw back her head in a false, simpering laugh. Lady, she said to Amaranth, we are pleased we have been chosen to receive you. Almost we had given up hope.
Another gesture with her long, painted fingernails, and seven of the drow stood away from the others.
Chapter Seventeen — Knights of Llewyrr
In the council chamber at Harrowfast, Suka said to Marabaldia,
I think we should get away from here. Captain Rurik has already escaped with all his Ffolk. He rode away while you were talking because there is no point to these negotiations. And without Rurik, this is not your fight.
This was measured speech, for her. Inside she felt a certain urgency.
There was a circular open space at the bottom of the council chamber s sloping well, a raised stone dais, and on top of it a long stone table. Suka stood by Marabaldia s heavy chair, her head below the level of the table s
