woven into the internal structure of both the column and the ring affixed on top of it. He didn’t expect the process to take long. He’d already taken care of the elemental on the other ship without any difficulty. The spells the artificers had used, while serviceable, were crude and simplistic and presented no challenge to him. As the ships had been left unguarded, he’d faced no resistance.
Tresslar sighed. Forty years he’d been on Dreadhold, and if the spellwork he’d seen so far was any indication, artificers had become sloppy since he’d chosen to absent himself from the world. Perhaps the erosion of magical standards was an inevitable result of the Last War, when too many artificers had been forced to do rushwork out of necessity, but the war was over now, and there were no longer any excuses for such shoddy craftsmanship as far as Tresslar was concerned.
After a few moments, the greenish-blue glow where the golden dragonhead touched the column subsided, and it was done-no flash of light, no crackle of discharged energy. Tresslar preferred to avoid showiness in his work whenever possible. Restrained elegance was the hallmark of a true master of spellcraft, though in truth he couldn’t take full credit for his wand’s performance. He’d discovered the golden dragon’s head during a voyage to Trebaz Sinara with Erdis Cai. The uninhabited island held many wonders and even more mysteries, and the origin of the dragon’s head as well as its intended purpose was one of the latter. Tresslar had understood the dragonhead’s power well enough to use it to create his spell-absorbing wand, but he didn’t fully fathom the artifact’s nature-not that he’d ever admit it to anyone.
His task was complete. Two of the Black Fleet’s three galleons no longer possessed air elementals to fill their sails. With nothing else to do, he supposed he should disembark this vessel and board the ship he’d spared and wait for the others to finish their work.
Yet…
Tresslar turned and looked toward the open entrance to Grimwall. It had been four decades since he’d set foot inside, over half his lifetime. He knew it wasn’t the same place that he remembered from his youth and that terrible things walked its corridors now. Still, he felt a powerful urge to walk down the ship’s gangplank and head across the dock to the entrance and go inside. More than simple nostalgia, it was almost a compulsion, but he really didn’t want to simply revisit Grimwall, did he?
What he really wanted-what he needed-was to see Erdis again. Perhaps Tresslar wanted to see if any trace of the great explorer he’d once revered remained inside the undead creature that now ruled Grimwall. Perhaps, as Diran suggested, Tresslar had been afraid for too long, and it was time that he faced that fear, looked it straight in the eyes, for better or worse.
Tresslar continued standing and gazing at Grimwall’s entrance for several more moments before finally reaching a decision. Gripping his dragonwand tight, he headed for the gangplank.
Yvka and Hinto moved down the corridor with silent ease. Both of them possessed excellent night vision as well as nonhuman dexterity and grace, though Yvka might have made somewhat better time if she hadn’t needed to shorten the length of her stride so the halfling could keep up. The greenfire torches which lit the corridor provided enough illumination to make it seem bright as day to elven and halfling eyes, and from what they could see, Grimwall-at least this section of it-was deserted. Whatever the grisly nature of the rite Erdis Cai was preparing to conduct this night, it appeared his people were in attendance as well. All to the better; it would make Hinto’s and her task much easier.
The corridor they traveled curved slowly to the left, and Yvka saw that she’d allowed herself to become overconfident. Two male guards dressed in the familiar garb of the Black Raiders stood in front of a larger wrought-iron gate with burning braziers of greenfire mounted on either side. Despite the guards’ bald heads and false vampire teeth, Yvka knew they were human, or at least she hoped so, and that meant there was a chance they hadn’t spotted Hinto or her in the corridor’s gloom. She stopped and crouched down, putting one hand on Hinto’s shoulder to stop him and another over his mouth to prevent him from making any noise. Hinto must’ve already seen the guards, for he nodded, showing no surprise at Yvka’s actions.
The elf-woman removed her hand from the halfling’s mouth and motioned for him to retreat a bit down the corridor. He nodded again, turned, and moved off without a sound. Yvka followed, equally as silent. When they’d put a few dozen extra yards between themselves and the raiders, and the curve of the corridor wall hid them from view, Yvka caught up to Hinto and motioned for him to stop. The elf-woman knelt next to the halfling and whispered close to his ear.
“That looks like one of the storage areas Tresslar described,” she said.
“Maybe,” Hinto replied, “but that doesn’t mean it’s the place the raiders keep the prisoners.”
“True, but if it was merely a storage area for supplies and such, why would they guard it, especially this night, when they’ve left so much of the rest of Grimwall unguarded?”
“Good point. What do we do now?”
Yvka thought for a moment. She still had a few tricks in the leather pouch dangling from her belt, provided by the ever-inventive and oh-so-devious wizards and artificers employed by the Shadow Network, but she wasn’t certain any of her toys would prove useful in this situation. Then again, sometimes the simple ways were the best.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.”
The halfling walked down the corridor toward the two guards, weaving with an unsteady gait. At first neither noticed him in the dim light, but as he drew closer, one of the guards whirled around to stare at the halfling.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” the man shouted, sounding more bemused than angry.
The halfling didn’t answer. He took a couple more weaving steps, stopped, stiffened, then collapsed to the floor. Both guards stared at him for several moments, as if they expected the halfling to leap up any moment and yell, “Surprise!” The small man just lay there, unmoving.
The guard who’d shouted at the halfling drew his sword and walked forward, keeping his gaze trained on the seemingly unconscious little man, alert for even the most subtle of movements. The guard reached the halfling and was just about to prod him with his sword when a blur of motion emerged from the corridor’s gloom. The Black Fleet raider looked up to see a woman come cartwheeling toward him, but before he could fully understand what he was seeing, let alone react, he felt a sharp piercing pain in his side. He looked down to see the halfling sitting up and holding onto the hilt of the long knife that had been thrust into his gut. Confused and feeling the first numbing touches of shock, the raider could only watch as the woman-an elf, he thought, though she was moving too fast for him to be sure-tumbled past him. She leaped into the air and delivered a spinning kick to his partner’s head before the other guard had gotten his sword even halfway clear of its scabbard. The other raider’s head spun to the side, the motion accompanied by the sickening sound of snapping bone. The man was dead before the elf-woman landed on her feet, but it took his body an instant longer to realize it and topple to the floor.
The surviving guard looked back down at the halfling, and the little man gave him a savage grin before shoving the long knife farther in and twisting it around. Agony exploded in the raider’s abdomen and chest, but darkness rushed in to sweep away the pain.
Yvka was examining the lock on the gate as Hinto wiped his long knife clean on the shirt of the downed raider. The halfling sheathed his weapon and came over to join her.
“How’s it look?”
“Old and sturdy,” she said, “but I think I can open it.”
“Hello?”
Both Yvka and Hinto started at the sound of the voice. It belonged to a small girl child, and it came from the other side of the gate. With the light from the greenfire braziers so close, it took a moment for their vision to adjust before they saw the child standing a dozen yards behind the gate. She was dressed in ragged dirty clothing, barefoot, and her hair was scraggly and matted. She was also pale and far too thin.
