The girl circled the location hard and sharp with apen procured from Polk. “I wanna meet a bunch of ilithids like I want to be fedrot-grub. Definitely we go around!”
The Justicar looked at the maze of minor tunnels marked on the maps, each one marked with a danger symbol by the drow.
“The mam path might be faster,” he said, “if we can pass themind flayers.”
“Jus,
“All right.”
“Anyway, faerie brains are more highly evolved than humanones. They’re tastier.”
With her spell slowly failing, Escalla shook her finger to jazz up the magic, then hurriedly went back to the map.
“There’re other caves definitely blocking the way. Here’s thefirst. ‘Reptile caves-pass security level one.’ I’m guessing that’s where thetrogs hang out.” Escalla’s finger traced paths and still more symbols changed.“Next zone down: ‘Kuo-toa-security pass code two,’ whatever that means.”
“Evil sentient fish.” Jus glowered a the map. “Go on.”
“Well, that’s about it.” Escalla traced lines that finally ledto a giant symbol far to the north: a huge cave topped with a drawing of a black spider. “The passages all pretty much lead there. I’m guessing that’s home.”
The locator needle seemed to agree with the map. Whoever carried the slowglass gem, he was heading northwest straight toward the drow citadel.
It would take a superhuman effort to make the journey, recover the slowglass, and fathom the motives of the murderer. Fortunately, Escalla considered herself and her friends superhuman. She helped herself to a swig from the ever-full bottle-now mysteriously full of peach brandy-and clappedher hands as Jus noisily rolled up the map.
“All right people, let’s move on!” The girl marched about theplace like the leader of a circus troupe. “Henry, poison your crossbow boltswith the drow drugs! In fact, take the whole poison pot and dip your sword! Polk, let’s get going!”
The drow had carried small brooches coded with patterns and squiggles. Jus knelt and seized a random selection, then began the hard march into the dark.
Half an hour later, a tiny campfire made from lantern oil andfungi spread a yellow light about a nasty little cave. Dinner sizzled and gave off an amazingly offensive smell. Sitting cross legged in her black silk dress, her bottom planted upon Cinders, who lay staring in fascination at the fire, Escalla wrenched another piece off the roast and tried to fit it in her mouth.
“Look on the bright side! At least everybody gets adrumstick!”
Each sitting with a leg from a really big spider in their laps, both Polk and Private Henry managed to give watery smiles while wondering how to hide their food. Jus sat in silence, crunching upon spider meat. With his armor lying spread beside the fire, the Justicar was a mass of bandages.
The magic whiskey bottle wet the cloth Escalla used to dab his wounds. Jus heaved and bucked in pain, snarling imprecations at the faerie. She sat primly in place, holding her wash cloth and looking at the Justicar through hooded eyes.
“Don’t be such a baby. We have to get these clean.”
“They are clean!”
“They are not. These tunnels are filled with fungus. We’llclean you up and use nice fresh bandages, then in a few hours your healing spells will make you all better.” Escalla moved with a matronly, possessive airas she tended the Justicar. “You’re my pal, so we have to take good care ofyou.”
Jus dragged his sword from his belt and lay it on the floor beside him where it could no longer jut into his ribs. Plumping up blankets on a nice dry patch of floor, Escalla made the man a bed.
“Now, you sleep. We need you at your best.” The sight of atiny faerie tucking in the large man seemed ludicrous, but Polk and Henry were too busy wrestling with their dinners to speak out. “Sleep tight!”
Lying painfully down, Jus gave a dissatisfied sigh. “Who’s onguard?”
“I am!” Escalla forcibly closed Jus’ eyes. “I have to stayup and relearn all my spells. Polk, Henry, and I will take care of it. So go to sleep and relax.”
Busying herself about the campsite, Escalla dragged out her spell references, a scrap of parchment, and a pen. She perched a rather attractive pair of spectacles upon her nose and looked across the rims at Jus, gave him a rather sardonic, challenging little smile, and then set about her work. Her pen scratched, the fire crackled, and slowly the Justicar began to sleep.
Polk and Henry turned in, each wrapping themselves in drow cloaks to keep away the chill. They kept weapons close at hand and slept far away from the entrance. Private Henry watched Escalla, so prim and pretty in the firelight, as she jotted down her notes. He managed a nervous smile when the faerie caught his eye.
Escalla waved her pen.
“G’night, kid. It’s all right.” She tapped her tall, pointedfaerie ears. “Anything comes waddling down the passageway, and I promise poochand I’ll scream.”
The youth half wondered if it was a joke, but he decided not to look foolish and rolled over, too tired to stay awake.
The fire crackled. Escalla wrote, and slowly and surely her companions sank into a dead silent sleep. Cinders grinned. Escalla thoughtfully fingered his rents and cuts, then flipped through her little scrolls.
“Hey, pooch. Repair spell time?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be up for hours.” Escallasmoothed out the dog’s pelt then carefully spoke her spell and made the hide andfur go back to its usual pristine self. “There we go! Now you just lie there andlet it do you good while I warm my faerie butt by the fire!”
The hell hound purred, the repair spell stealing through him from nose to tail in a warm delicious haze. His voice actually sounded sleepy as it drifted into Escalla’s mind.
“You know it!” Escalla wriggled in Cinders’ fur then leaned over to give thedog a kiss “Nighty night.”
The tunnels were remarkably quiet. There was no time, no night, no day, no heat, and no rain. Water dripped, and the campfire slowly died. Keeping happily to her work, Escalla wrote and studied for an hour. While Jus slept, she dusted the big lug with a stoneskin spell, then made up her lost spells with another hour of careful thought. Finally she looked at her list and nodded carefully, stifling a yawn as she tried to see if there were any possibilities she had missed.
Another yawn came, this time wider than the last. “Spellshields, black tentacles, lightning bolts, couple of magic walls…”
Cinders’ fur was obscenely soft and silky. Escalla lay withher head propped on her elbow, a little blanket drawn up over herself as she worked. “A few”-another yawn-“few utilities. A charm… charm monster spell.”
It seemed a good idea to rest her eyes for a while, then awaken Polk for his turn on guard. Full of good intentions, Escalla never even felt herself slide beautifully off into the world of sleep.
The fire died down. The uneaten bits of roasted spider cooled. Cinders lay in a warm fuzzy daze, his tail occasionally twitching. In the caverns, all was peace and quiet as the water drip-drip-dripped endlessly from the mildewed walls.
After a long, peaceful time, the sound of movement came from the passageway. Bumbling along the tunnel came a single silly shape-a creaturequesting forward behind an absurd pair of long, thin feelers. Armored in a sturdy shell and searching the dark with addled eyes, the creature hunted after a particular delicious smell that seemed to quiver in the air.
The scent came from the travelers’ cave. Edging forward, thecreature pat-pat-patted with its feelers, tasting eagerly at the air. It stole forward just a little way, saw Escalla lying on the hell hound skin and the other figures wrapped in blankets by the fire. The creature shrank and kept perfectly still-timid and frightened-but the only sound
