eye. All four walls of the chamber were of solid stone, each covered with a grotesque frieze of tortured souls. But Artek was not going to believe their quest was over before it had even begun. He doubted that even a mad wizard would build a room without a door-what would be the use? Thief s instinct told him that there had to be a way out of the chamber. All they had to do was find it.
'All right, let's search the walls and floor,' Artek told the others. 'There has to be a hidden door in this room somewhere. Look for anything at all that stands out or seems unusual in some way.'
He moved to one of the walls and began running his hand over the bas-relief carvings that covered it, searching for any seams or inconsistencies in the stone. Corin and Beckla exchanged unsure looks, then followed suit. Each pored over his or her respective wall, attempting to find any sign of a secret portal. Before long, Artek's head throbbed with concentration. The friezes made it difficult. The intricate relief carvings of writhing bodies could be obscuring something-a crack, a hole, a gap-he might otherwise see. However, there was nothing to do but keep searching.
Just when he was beginning to lose hope, Beckla let out an excited whoop. 'I think I've found something, Artek! There's a thin seam around the neck of one of these carvings. I think the head is some sort of knob. It looks like it could turn.'
That sounded promising. Artek hurried toward the wizard. That's good, Beckla. But don't touch it yet If the knob is a trigger for a secret door, it could be trapped. We need to check it out before we turn it.'
'Oh,' Beckla replied as she snatched her hand away from the carving. 'Oops.'
Artek halted in alarm. The last time Beckla had uttered that word, she had nearly set his hindquarters on fire. He shook his head slowly, staring at her. 'Please tell me you didn't…'
Beckla grinned at him weakly. 'I did.'
The wizard gestured to the twisted stone figure on the wall. Its screaming head now pointed backward. Artek lunged forward, reaching out to turn the figure's head back around, but it was too late.
There was a hiss of stale air, followed by a low grating sound. The floor vibrated beneath their feet, and the three stared around the room in surprise. At first it was not apparent what was happening-until Corin voiced the truth.
'Look at the walls!' die nobleman cried. They're closing in!'
Artek swore in alarm. The young lord was right. The chamber's two long walls were slowly but inexorably moving inward. Artek gripped the figurine, turning the head back around. It was no use. The trap had been sprung, and the walls continued to close in. Artek guessed they had no more than a few minutes before the slabs met and crushed their bodies to a pulp. The open stone mouths of the writhing damned no longer seemed to be screaming, but laughing.
'Quick!' Artek shouted over the rumbling. There's got to be another trigger, one that will stop the trap!'
Hastily, he began searching one of the walls as it pressed forward. Needing no other inducement besides fear, Corin and Beckla leapt toward the other wall and did the same. As they searched, they were forced to keep stepping backward as the walls closed in. There were fifteen paces between them, then ten, then five. Frantically, Artek kept searching. He felt something brush his back. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Beckla staring at him with wide eyes. The walls were no more than two arm lengths apart.
That's odd,' Corin announced. 'The arm on this figurine looks almost like a lever.'
'Well, then pull it!' Beckla cried urgently.
Corin put his hands behind his back. 'Oh, no. Not before Artek checks it. You heard what he said before.'
Artek craned his neck, gazing with wild eyes at the nobleman. 'Pull it, Corin!' he shouted.
The lord shook his head. 'If I pull that lever, we may find ourselves in worse trouble yet. You told Beckla not to…'
'Never mind!' Artek barked. His back was against one wall, the other just four feet away. Three feet. Two. 'Just pull the lever!'
Corin sighed in exasperation. 'Well, this is all very contradictory. But here goes…' He gripped the stone arm and pulled the lever. The floor dropped out from beneath their feet, and the three plunged downward, screaming. The two walls met with a clap of thunder above their heads, grinding together with bone-crushing force. For a moment more they continued to fall through darkness. Then, with three grunts, they struck a hard stone floor.
Artek groaned as he sat up. Magically restored though it was, his body still wasn't used to all this falling and landing, if it ever had been. He probed gently with his fingers, wincing as he found numerous tender spots. However, nothing seemed to be broken.
Pale blue magelight flared into being. Beckla slumped against a wall, gripping her staff, grimacing but whole. With painful effort, Artek turned around, wondering how Corin had fared. He stared in amazement as the nobleman leapt easily to his feet, briskly dusting off his tattered finery.
'That was positively thrilling,' Corin said exuberantly. 'The danger! The excitement! The narrow escape!' His blue eyes shone brightly. 'I don't suppose we could do it again?'
'Are you sure we can't kill him, Ar'talen?' Beckla grumbled, slowly pulling herself to her feet with the help of her staff.
'Don't tempt me.' Joints and muscles protesting, Artek stood.
Corin eyed the others speculatively. 'You know, I'm beginning to get the distinct impression that neither of you likes me very much.'
'Wherever would you get such an idea?' Artek replied facetiously.
'Oh, I don't know,' Corin mused. 'I suppose it's all this talk about wanting to kill me. One might construe that as an indication of dislike.'
'Really? What a fascinating interpretation.'
The nobleman beamed. 'Why, thank you, Ar'talen!'
Artek and Beckla exchanged meaningful glances. There was no need for words.
By the glow of the magelight, the three stood at the beginning of a corridor. Smooth stone walls rose to a flat ceiling high over their heads. Artek could see the trapdoor through which they had fallen. It was now blocked by the bases of the thick stone walls that had nearly crushed them in the room above. The darkness was dense and stifling here, retreating sullenly before the magical light of Beckla's staff, and only a few paces at that. A rank odor like the putrid reek of decay hung in the air, so thick that it almost seemed to leave on oily residue on their skin and inside their lungs. It was a stench of evil.
With no other options evident, the three started down the corridor. The tunnel plunged straight through the darkness, without openings or side passages, The sickening odor grew more intense as they walked, but there was nothing to do but swallow their bile and press on. Soft, ropy strands dangled from the ceiling. Artek guessed they were moss or fungal growth, for they glowed with a faint and noxious green light. They ducked to avoid the strands and kept moving.
Though he couldn't be sure, Artek had the sense that the passageway was leading gradually downward. He swore inwardly. They needed to go up, but it seemed everything they did only took them farther down. It was as if Undermountain itself were somehow conspiring to pull them deeper.
After a time, the inky mouth of a smaller tunnel opened up to the left. The fetid stench was stronger here, pouring like black water out of the side opening. Yet it wasn't just the smell that spilled from the tunnel-there was a malice as well, distant and faint, but chilling all the same.
'There's something down there,' Beckla whispered nervously.
Corin nodded, his smudged face pale. 'And whatever it is, I don't think it's terribly friendly,' he added in a squeaky voice.
'Just keep moving,' Artek countered. He felt the malevolent presence as well. He wiped his sweaty palms on his leather jerkin and kept his sensitive eyes peeled.
They continued down the murky passageway. The mouths of more tunnels opened to their left and right. Some were blocked by fallen rubble, and others were dry and dusty. But the same pungent reek wafted outward from several tunnels, as did the aura of evil. Without deciding aloud to do so, the three picked up their pace. Then Artek detected it- a subtle shift in the movements of the air.
'There's a space ahead,' he whispered excitedly. 'And a faint breeze. I think there's a way out. Come on, it's not far.'
The others needed little urging. They started into a jog, hurrying down the passageway. At the same moment, the aura of malice swelled behind them. They reeled, nearly overwhelmed by the vile emanations of
