13
Cracked ribs, bruises, concussion…
This had not been one of Escalla’s better days. Her stoneskinspell had stopped punctures but had transmitted the shock right though to the bones. Painfully awake at last, Escalla felt herself being tended to. Wounds were tended and her face wiped semi-clean. Sitting cradled in Jus’ lap, Escallasmoldered, thinking dire thoughts about the drow. She opened one bloodshot eye and said, “So. Fireproof cloaks, poisoned arrows, they use magic, move silently,and are immune to magic at least half of the time…” Extremely miffed, thegirl lifted her arm and suffered to have another healing spell across the ribs. “Apart from that, we’re pretty even.”
Bandaged and grim, Jus merely kept on with his work, healing the faerie. “We got them.”
“Yeah, and they almost got us!”
Unconcerned, Jus shrugged and said, “‘Almost’ still makesthem dead and us alive.” He poured water onto a cloth and handed it to Escalla.“How do you feel?”
“Like crap!” With dried blood crusting her hair and skin,Escalla looked a mess. “My ribs are better though.”
“Good.”
Jus arose. He had a puncture in one thigh, as well as numerous gashes and painful, bloody cuts. He lowered Escalla to her feet and handed her a long strip of silken drow cloth as a dress. Escalla used it for cover as she tried to rub herself dean and shot a concerned look at the Justicar.
“Hey, man! You’re still ripped to bits!”
“You needed the healing more than I.” Jus moved slowly andheavily now that his wounds were stiff with pain. “I’ll have more healing spellstomorrow.”
“Damn!” Escalla threw her washcloth aside. “We can’t gotraipsing along these tunnels without you in full fighting trim. We’ll get wipedout.” The girl roughly tied the sheer black silk into a dress. “We’re going tohave to hole up for a day and let you rest.”
The huge ranger sighed heavily, then looked at the drow corpses lying splayed and smeared about the tunnel.
“Not here. They might have a relief.”
“There are side alcoves. We’ll get in one, and I’ll cover theentrance with an illusion spell.” The girl flew up to hold Jus by the hand inconcern. “You sure you’re all right to walk?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Come on then. Let’s get the loot sorted out, then we’ll walkfor half a mile and hide.” The girl heaved an irritated sigh. “I feel like suchan idiot. Virtually everything I threw at them was blocked.”
“Change your strategy. Use spells that affect the area aroundthe drow and not ones that attack the drow themselves.”
“You got it.” Escalla scowled and tried to think. “I’ve gottahole up and redo my spell list.”
Working with the diligence of a true monomaniac, Polk had been searching the drow lairs. Apparently the proper cataloging of spoils was a vital part of adventure. Polk sat cross legged amidst his chronicle and pens, carefully recounting every single sword blow, dodge, and spell. Escalla threw the man a happy little wave and was given a grumble in return.
“Hey, Polk! Nice crossbow shot, man. I didn’t know you couldshoot!”
“Had to save the boy.” Polk sniffed in self importance as hewent about his work. “The boy’s no hero. Can’t interfere with a hero, but theboy needed help.”
Escalla kissed Polk upon the cheek and said, “Well thank you.Here’s the magic bottle.”
She placed the faerie bottle into Polk’s lap-big and alreadybrimming with a whiskey so concentrated that it could strip paint and raise the dead. The girl shot Polk a dire glance. “And no faerie wine! Especially not thesixty- three!”
Infinite happiness filled Polk’s soul. He wrenched open thebottle, filled a tin mug, then drew in an important breath, rose, and presented the liquor to the Justicar. He poured more drinks for Escalla and for the teenage soldier, then contented himself with drinking straight from the bottle.
“Here’s to adventure! Next time we’ll bash a hundred more!”
The whiskey traveled down living gullets as though it had spines and claws. Private Henry almost coughed up a lung. He fought for breath, tears in his eyes, a look of horror on his face as he saw Escalla raise her little mug to him in salute and take a second draught.
“Here’s to you, kid!”
Polk happily arranged items from the looted drow in a line along the floor. There were a few scant pieces of gold, a few platinum coins, short swords, daggers, bucklers, crossbows, poisoned crossbow bolts, and bloodstained clothes. Most intriguing of all were scroll tubes lined up side by side. Escalla raced over to pry open the tubes-only to be frozen in place by onehard glare from the Justicar. The ranger picked up the tubes one by one, checking them carefully. Cinders sniffed for magic then happily began to wag his tail.
“Hoopy!” Escalla pounced, ripped the cap off a tube, andfound only a piece of parchment covered with lines and squiggles. She hastily moved to the next tube, opened it, and found that it was the same.
“Aww man! These aren’t scrolls!” She scowled petulantly atthe parchments, turning them around and around. “Can’t these drow even gettreasure right?”
The Justicar winced as he sat down with the first piece of parchment spread out across his knees. He examined the carefully inked lines with notes and pointing arrows scribbled beside the diagrams in a different hand. He held the drawing up in the shine of Cinders’ flames, checkingcarefully for secret messages and invisible ink.
Escalla wound up draped over his shoulder from behind, staring at the diagrams.
“What is that thing? Dark elf doodles?”
“No.” Jus smoothed the parchment in grim distaste. It seemedto be made from human skin. “It’s a map.”
“Yeah?” To Escalla the squiggles hardly seemed map-like. “Howdo you figure that?”
“A simple one. A map of the underdark.” The map was made ofsimple lines, interconnected with symbols marking many of the junctions. “See.This arch is the gate outside. This is the passageway we’re in. The area markedhere with an eye? It’s this position here, the guard post.”
“Hoopy.” Escalla squinted carefully at the map. Polk andPrivate Henry gathered near. “Lotsa notes beside those symbols. Do you readDrow?”
“No. Do you have a spell or something that can do it?”
“Sure!” Escalla cast the appropriate spell. “There you go!”
They all craned forward with interest-even Polk, whosespelling skills were dubious at best, and Private Henry, who feared to admit that he couldn’t read. Escalla ran her fingers over the lines of scribbledsymbols, and for an instant thereafter, their meaning became sharp and clear.
“Main way-patrols, Eclavdra clan.” The faerie read thesymbols scribbled beside the main route marked on the map. “Here’s us. Says,‘Post one. Incoming secret addits one and two. Faerie of the mother kin allowedto pass.’” The girl wrinkled her freckled nose. “Mother kin?”
“Follower of Lolth. Our quarry.” The Justicar tapped the map.“Looks like the paths diverge just down here. What are the notes on the nextjunction?”
“Ah!” Escalla glared at the magically transformed writing,trying to make sense of it, then decided that drow simply couldn’t spell.“Il-ilithids…” The girl jerked forward in alarm.
Standing awe-stricken behind the Justicar, Private Henry blinked like an owl. “What’s an ilithid?”
“Mind flayers. Oh, they’re great! You’ll love ’em!” Escallawaved her hands theatrically about her head. “Imagine a super-poweredmind-blasting psychopath that can stun your mind at will and wants to eat your raw, ungarnished brain!” The faerie jotted marks across the map. “This says,‘Ilithids’-
