Cellar.
As soon as both feet touched the ground, the portal winked out of existence behind him. The chamber he had entered was completely dark. It smelled damp and musty, like the mineral caves under the ruins of Castle Trinity, and the only sound was of dripping water, somewhere off in the distance.
The Claw slipped the portal disk under a flap of fabric beneath his belt then unfastened his left gauntlet.
'As you wish, Princess Mariko,' he said, and the sigil on his palm lit up.
The Claw found himself standing inside a long, narrow room. Patches of fuzzy yellow mold covered the walls and floor. The few flagstones still visible were worn and broken, missing altogether in many places. Pools of dirty water had collected in the divots. The light from Princess Mariko's magical gift reflected off their surfaces, illuminating the dripping cracks in the ceiling.
The Claw took in the whole chamber, swinging his palm from one end to the other. The portal had brought him to the inside of a sealed room. There didn't appear to be any doors or windows-no way out at all.
'First things first.'
Kneeling down, the Claw retrieved a small dagger from his boot. Using it to puncture the leather on his off- hand gauntlet, he cut a square hole in the palm-the same size as the illuminated sigil. It took him some time. His gauntlets were well-crafted, and the leather resisted being severed. But eventually he succeeded. Satisfied with his work, he returned the gauntlet to his left hand and made his way down to the far end of the room.
The stones on the floor moved and shifted under his weight. It seemed they hadn't been walked upon in some time. As he drew closer to the end, it looked as if there had at one time been a door leading out of this chamber, but it was now all bricked up. The yellowish mold seemed thin here, giving way to more of the foul water. A large puddle flooded most of this part of the room, growing ever bigger from the slow drip in the ceiling.
Stopping at the edge of the puddle, the Claw scanned the bricked-up doorway with his illuminated palm. The brick was a different color than the rest of the wall, but it wasn't new by any means. Turning his attention to the ceiling, he scanned the crack that seemed to be the only way in or out of here.
The puddle below him thrashed violently, splashing filthy water in every direction. Something wrapped around his legs, and he lost his balance, pulled from his feet. One moment he was standing, the next he found himself looking up, his body soaked, lying flat on his back in the puddle.
The water rose from the ground around him, forming into a pair of huge hands, and they swung down on the Claw, hitting him squarely in the chest. The air rushed from his lungs.
Rolling to one side, the Claw scampered to his feet, turning to face the black, watery hands. Around those hands, a humanoid formed, lifting itself straight out of the puddle as if using the water to create a body. Its features were dull and ill-defined, slowly taking on more shape. Finally, standing in a pool of water only half the size that it once was, the Claw faced what looked like a drow woman.
Not yet having caught his breath, he took a feeble swipe at the newcomer. Without moving, the woman's body turned liquid, dripping away from his strike and avoiding the attack. The Claw stumbled, his momentum moving into his swing, and he was rewarded with another pair of vicious blows, this time to the head.
The counterstrike from the watery creature sent him tumbling to the corner of the room. Tucking his head, the Claw rolled with the fall, coming up against the wall with his feet and stopping himself from smashing into the mold. Kicking away, he quickly got back to his feet, circling away from the creature.
Though it had the form of a female dark elf, this was no drow. The creature's body was fluid, oozy. Not quite water, but it could reorganize itself as if it were liquid. The Claw had heard of such beasts, but he thought they were just the ramblings of drunken adventurers, telling tall tales over an ale at the inn.
The watery thing lunged, reaching for his right hand. The Claw backed away, bringing all four blades of his left gauntlet squarely down on the creature's shoulder, severing its arm from its body. The arm splashed to the floor into a puddle of goo that resembled a jellyfish washed up on a beach.
The creature screamed and pulled away, grasping at its stump. It spouted off some words that he didn't understand- all hisses and clicks. Whatever she was saying, he was certain it meant she was not happy with him.
As he watched, the creature regrew its arm. Then the rest of its features solidified, turning from slimy ooze into fabric, metal, flesh, and leather. It wore a steel breastplate, polished to a high shine, with copper chain sleeves. Underneath its armor, the drow creature had formed a purple velvet shirt that shone through the sides of the breastplate and the rings of the chain. Below that, it sported a thick leather belt that held up a single short sword in a metal scabbard. And of course, its skin was a shiny, onyx black.
The Claw shook his head. He found himself looking into her dark eyes as she stared at him. Funny how charming she seemed, even though he didn't understand her language.
The creature came at him again, punching her fist at his left gauntlet. Though she had a sword, she hadn't drawn it, and the barehanded attack caught the Claw off guard. He tried to pull back, but the drow woman was quick, and her fist collided with his. When it did, her hand flowed out, becoming little more than a blob of gelatinous gunk enveloping his entire left hand-bladed gauntlet, wrist, and all.
The room grew dark, as the magical light on his palm glowed through the drow beast's flesh, illuminating her face and chest but little else. The Claw shook his arm, trying to break free, but it was no use. She had him. The ooze around his hand seemed to dry up, hardening to an almost leatherlike state, trapping his weapon inside the creature.
Struggling for a moment longer, the Claw finally gave up. 'Won't let it go?' he growled, pulling his right hand back into a fist. 'Fine. I'll cut it out.'
The Claw yanked the creature forward with his left hand, and buried the blades of his gauntlet into its gut with his right. Though it appeared to be wearing polished steel armor, it gave way like oozy flesh. Unable to dodge in time, the beast was pinned, and the Claw pulled his arms apart, tearing the drow woman in half. She screamed as her body came apart, then she slumped and sloughed off, dripping away from the Claw's gauntlets and splattering on the floor like chunks of uneaten food.
The Claw shook his hands to clear all the ooze from between his blades. Bits of the creature slipped slowly from his weapons, raining down on the ground and splashing in the filthy water. Kicking at the chunks of the creature's remains, he satisfied himself that it was indeed dead.
'Now,' he said to himself, 'to find the princess.'
Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small compass. Lifting its lid, he examined the needle. Unlike most compasses, this one didn't have the cardinal directions inscribed on its surface. In fact, there were no markings on it at all, just a glass top, a black bottom, and a silver needle-which pointed toward the corner of the room.
It was brighter now that his palm was no longer encased in ooze, and he followed the direction of the compass to the mold-covered wall. There were two footprints on the wall from where he had pushed off after being knocked on the head by the ooze creature. The mold had come away where he had hit, revealing something other than stone underneath. He tapped at it with the tips of his blades, and it made the low, solid thump of wood.
Taking a step back, he let loose with a kick, right above the footprints. The wood behind creaked under the blow, and the mold flopped from its surface, exposing an arched door with black iron bolts holding it together. Wet and covered in mold, it didn't give the Claw much trouble. With just a few more kicks the wood came apart, crumbling into rotten splinters, sending a million tiny spiders scattering in all directions.
The Claw's skin crawled at the sight of it. 'I hope none of you get any bigger,' he said as he leaned down and slipped through the door. 'Nothing I hate more than spiders.'
Chapter Sixteen
Genevie walked across the drawbridge and through the portcullis into Klarsamryn. She waved to the guards as she passed, trying to smile. It made her nervous to see so many armed men at the gate. She couldn't remember the last time there were so many Magistrates in one place.
Crossing through the great hall, she hurried her way through the palace's stone hallways to the princess's chamber. Retrieving her key from the pocket of her robe, she slipped it into the lock and let herself in.
The room was mostly dark, but her half-elf eyes could see clearly. Obviously, no one had been looking after the princess's chamber. Chairs were out of place. The linens on the bed were unmade. And the doors of the
