group inside. ing coals that cast a soft red light against the inner walls of the pyramid. At the far end of the chamber, a great chair of dark wood rested at the base of a dais upon which sat a nondescript altar. Standing over the altar with its face toward the chamber entrance was the immense statue of an athletic man whose horned crocodile head disappeared into the shadows of the ceiling, some twenty feet above them.
A gong sounded from somewhere at the back of the chamber, and a near-giant of a man with a jutting chin and shaved head strode out from some hidden doorway behind the dais. He wore a sleeveless leather tunic that ended just above the knee, exposing corded muscles on his arms and thick calves. A fur-lined cape hung around his shoulders, billowing slightly in his wake as he made his way to the great chair. When he had seated himself, Kohtakah stepped forward and bent on one knee before him.
'Lord Mulkammu, your servant has returned from the human city with great news. I have brought wizards with me.'
'Kohtakah, it is indeed a blessing to see you after so long.' Mulkammu's grim face transformed into a warm smile for the Royal Sorcerer. 'We had feared that perhaps you were lost, but to hear that your mission was instead a success… praise Sebek!'
'Yes, Lord Mulkammu, though I regret that I could not bring more help. It seems the rulers of the city seek to eradicate magic and its practitioners. These two are the last members of a group that had operated in secret but were recently discovered and forced to flee. Shamshur's' He indicated the werecrocodile behind him who had carried Muctos.'patrol came across us as we sought to escape from further pursuit.'
'Hmm, that is indeed unfortunate. But you are unhurt? And your pursuers?' He looked between Kohtakah and Shamshur.
'We lost them in the swamp, my lord,' Kohtakah responded.
'Hanat was hurt, my lord,' Shamshur said, stepping forward. 'We were attacked by the vermin slaves. One of their cursed silver arrows struck him, forcing him to buck the female prisoner he was carrying. The wound is not grave, but he needs immediate tending.'
Mulkammu raised an eyebrow at the mention of the woman and looked at Kohtakah. 'Explain.'
'My apologies, Lord Mulkammu. The woman is nothing, bait that was used to trap the wizards.'
'Then why bring her along?'
'She is a cleric of a Faeriinian goddess'
'So she has magic?'
Kohtakah nodded.
'Sebek's smile! Magic cannot be allowed to stay in the hands of the slaves.' Anger flashed across Mulkammu's face, but his expression quickly returned to its former stony calm. 'First things first, though.' He signaled with his hand, and the gong sounded again. This time two men in simple, flowing white robes emerged from the same hidden doorway in the rear of the chamber. They moved silently to Hanat and made a cursory examination of his shoulder, pulling at the edges of the wound for a better look. Hanat gritted his teeth as skin and dried blood separated.
One of the men departed but returned swiftly pushing a handcart with a black leather satchel and a lantern sitting on top. He retrieved a set of tongs from the satchel and handed it to the other white-robed man.
Then he lit the lantern and held it up high enough so it cast its light over the wound. The man with the tongs delved into the wound with the instrument, took hold of something, and yanked. Hanat moaned and swayed on his feet, but Shamshur quickly slid up behind him to provide support. While the man with the lantern set the light source down and began bandaging Hanat's shoulder, the man with the tongs moved to the cart and started cleaning up. Kestus could see a bloody arrowhead lying next to the tongs atop the cart.
'You have done well, Kohtakah,' Lord Mulkammu said, rising from his throne. 'Let us see to our guests. Then we will make plans to retrieve the woman from the wererats. Shamshur, you and your men may go.' Shamshur bowed and turned to follow the rest of his patrol back outside, leaving the two mages with Lord Mulkammu and Kohtakah.
Once the others had left, Mulkammu greeted the mages with a toothy grin that was unnervingly predatory. 'Welcome, my friends.'
'You have an odd way of treating friends,' Kestus said, stepping forward. 'Kohtakah said we would be honored as heroes.'
'Did he?' Mulkammu faced Kestus. 'I make no apologies for the way in which you were brought here. Dire circumstances call for dire actions.'
'And what would those circumstances be?'
'Why, nothing less than the continued existence of my people.'
'Is that why you sent BrotherKohtakah to infiltrate us?'
'Yes, though his instructions were not that specific. He was merely to seek out individuals who could be of use to us.'
'Wizards, you mean.' Kestus did not like the undertones of this conversation. Mulkammu was hiding something. 'Why do you need wizards?'
'That requires a bit of explanation. In fact, it may be easier to show you than tell. Please, follow me.' He turned and began walking toward the back of the chamber. Kestus looked at Muctos and shrugged. The man seemed unconcerned with whether they were following him or not. There was no one between them and the door out. Of course, Kestus was sure they wouldn't get far before they were caught again, and their treatment then might not be as hospitable. Taking quick strides, Kestus and Muctos hastened after Mulkammu. Kohtakah brought up the rear.
The lord of the werecrocodiles led them through a small anteroom off the main temple chamber and down a flight of stairs. The stone of the lower level was damp. The waters of the swamp had found a way inside the pyramid. Kestus wrinkled his nose at the musty scent of decay that permeated the air. The group stopped before a great stone door set in the wall and framed by a pair of smoky torches. Symbols that Kestus thought might represent words in the Mulhorandi language were carved across the surface of the closed portal.
'When we were driven from our homeland more than two hundred years ago,' Mulkammu began, 'my people settled here. Blessed by our god, Sebek, lord of the crocodiles, our forefathers began construction of this city. It was a slow process that involved expanding the borders of this swamp, as well as the raising of the buildings that would serve as our homes.
'The task was a tremendous one, and so our fathers, in their foresight and wisdom, enlisted the aid of some of the lesser beings that already inhabited the region. Together, they continued their work, believing that Sebek was smiling upon them.
'Then, when I was just a boy, Sebek disappeared.
'My father, who was high priest of Sebek, no longer felt the presence of the Smiling Death; his prayers went unanswered, and the items of Power we had brought with us from our homeland no longer functioned. Our workers, jealous all these years of our success, took advantage of our predicament and tried to destroy us. But we prevailed, though my father was killed by their assassins.
'It has been a brutal struggle, and we have suffered, as you could probably see from the state of our city. Sebek has returned, though the connection to him is much weaker than it was before, and many of our artifacts remain useless. I became high priest in my father's place and have tried to lead my people as best I can.'
'You have our sympathies, Lord Mulkammu,' Kestus said, trying to keep the impatience from his voice, 'but I don't see why you need us.'
'The answer to that lies behind this door. This is the vault in which our artifacts are kept. Because of the weakened connection to Sebek, I do not possess the ability to use them. To be honest, I'm not even sure what some of them are capable of. Without them, however, my people will never rise to the greatness they once held. So you will learn what they are and how to use them.' Mulkammu turned and faced the vault door. Muttering in some language Kestus did not recognize, the werecrocodile lord began tracing the symbols that had been etched in the stone. Each symbol he touched glowed a soft, dark green. When he had finished, the vault door slowly swung open with the harsh sound of stone grinding against stone to reveal a room half hidden by shadows. Mulkammu removed one of the torches from its sconce on the wall and walked in.
To Kestus, the room seemed more of a storage closet than a vault. A short, square wooden rack to his left held a staff of dark, twisted wood and what looked like a scepter. What could be a couple of wands rested on a flimsy table in the middle of the vault. Mulkammu lit a candelabrum with the torch then stepped out to return the
