'What do you want?' repeated Kern. His hand was on his sword, his face stern. Trandon stood behind him, both hands resting on his staff, watching the scene closely. 'I tell you frankly, my lord, I feel no great friendliness toward you. As far as I can tell, you have lied to us since we came into this land. You used us, you and your master. What can you offer us now?'
'An alliance, though perhaps a temporary one. The bloodforge in the hands of the Fallen Temple is an artifact that represents an extraordinary danger to the Five Kingdoms.'
'It's also a grave danger to Faerun,' said Trandon quietly.
Garkim shrugged. 'Possibly. I cannot concern myself with matters in your corner of the world. What is of importance to me is safeguarding my land and performing the bidding of my master. In this I have failed. But if we can retrieve the bloodforge from the Fallen Temple, we can turn back the fiendish invasion.'
'You know the secret of the bloodforge?' Entreri's voice trembled slightly, and his hand reached up to stroke his skeletal arm, now concealed again by wrappings.
'I do.'
Entreri stood silent for a moment in thought. The others waited, Sharessa shifting impatiently from foot to foot, casting worried glances at the shadows in the street.
'I agree,' observed Entreri finally. 'But you will obey me in this affair.'
Garkim looked at him, eyes gleaming. 'You'll forgive me, Master Entreri, but I have some little experience with the false adherents of Туг. Moreover, I know where they have taken the forge. It hardly seems to me that you have anything with which to bargain.'
'Then why propose an alliance?' snapped the little assassin.
Kern cleared his throat. 'Come. We're wasting time. Lord Garkim, lead us to the bloodforge. Our pact can last at least that far. As to what happens when we recover the forge from these blasphemers-' He shrugged. 'Well see.'
'Oh, yes,' said Garkim softly. 'We shall see.'
Chapter 5
'How can we get through the streets without being attacked by the fiends?'
Noph's question, directed to Garkim, echoed the unspoken sentiments of his companions. However, the chancellor appeared unfazed by it.
'I know a secret way. Come.' He gestured to the paladins and pirates and walked quickly down one of the dark, crooked streets that led away from the base of the pyramid. The companions followed him, and the four palace guards brought up the rear.
Near the temple, the houses were large, some with enclosed courtyards in which Noph could see fountains playing and gardens with bright blooming flowers. However, as Garkim led them on, the way became more twisted and foul, the smells more pronounced, the dwellings smaller. Everywhere they found signs of the assault of the fiends: bodies lying across doorways where they had fallen defending their homes, shattered walls and windows, doors scored with claw marks and acid burns.
Garkim entered one of the courtyards, cautiously peering about. In the center of the atrium was an iron grille set into the paving stones. The chancellor gestured to two of the guards, who swiftly pried up the grille, revealing a gaping well beneath it. A few feet below the rim was a narrow ladder.
'The city drains,' said Garkim in a low voice. 'They reach into every part of Eldrinpar. The fiends may not yet have entered them.'
'May not,' began Kern, but stopped as the chancellor, gathering his robes about him, climbed down the ladder.
Entreri gave a swift glance at his companions, then followed. The others entered the well, gasping at the stench that rose from below. Noph, clinging to the slimy metal ladder, heard a clank above him as the last guard pulled the iron grille back in place.
Descending some fifteen feet, the party came to the bottom of the shaft and found themselves at the entrance to a brick-lined tunnel that snaked off into the darkness. Garkim hastily lit a torch and led the way, splashing through puddles and streams of water that gleamed in the torchlight. From time to time, the party passed other conjoining passages, but Garkim never hesitated in choosing which way to turn.
Noph caught up to Garkim and Entreri. 'Lord Garkim, how do you know your way about here?'
Garkim's mouth was tight, but his eyes brimmed with tears. 'My people sometimes use these tunnels.'
'Your people?'
'The Mar. In Eldrinpar, it is the Ffolk who live near the temples and palaces, and the Mar who remain apart from power and faith. To escape the scrutiny of the Ffolk, the Mar long ago learned to use the drains. Like maggots, they burrow beneath the city, and the Ffolk are none the wiser.' He sighed. 'The gods have so decreed it, but it still seems hard to me.'
'But you're a Mar.'
'I was plucked from my home when I was a boy by the mage-king himself. It's true that I've risen to high station under his rule, but even so, there are-were-those in high councils who whispered against me when my back was turned because I was Mar.' He shrugged and quickened his pace. 'None of this will matter, though, if the followers of the Fallen Temple install the bloodforge.'
'Why do they want it?' asked Entreri. His voice echoed strangely against the tunnel walls. 'What do they want to accomplish?'
'They wish to summon Ysdar, a being of great power who comes from beyond this plane of existence. Some say he is no more than a name, a shadow to frighten children. But I believe he is real and is plotting to conquer all the Five Kingdoms.'
'And he can do that if he gets a bloodforge?' Noph asked.
'According to most accounts of him, Ysdar already has a bloodforge. But a second would give him decisive power to command armies far greater than any that other kingdoms might bring against him. So we stand upon the sword's edge. The next few hours may decide whether my world stands or falls.' Garkim fell silent and strode on.
At last the party entered a small room, into which a number of passages converged. To one side was another ladder leading upward. Garkim, the hem of his robes dripping with foul water, climbed up the ladder. The others followed and, in a few moments, emerged, blinking, into the light of day.
The sun was now high in the sky and blazed down upon the close quarters of the city. The air smelled of rot and decay, of soot and ashes from the burning city. And over everything was the acrid tang of fresh blood.
They were in a deserted street lined with empty houses. To Noph, it looked no different than the area where they had entered the drains. Yet something felt different, and after a moment he realized what it was. The fiendish clamor had died away, and high in the morning sky, he could hear the cry of gulls and smell a stiff salt breeze.
They were near the sea.
The group formed a narrow line, and Garkim led them along the street, gesturing to them to stay in the shadows cast by the overhanging houses. They saw no living thing.
One of the guardsmen in the rear screamed.
From a dark doorway, tentacles reached forth, their edges as sharp as razors. One whipped around the man's neck and tightened abruptly. His head fell and went spinning down the dusty street, eyes staring and mouth still open in a silent cry of death and despair. His body was yanked back into the doorway; there was a horrid crunching sound.
'Run!' cried Garkim.
Noph raced forward, then stopped, hearing a cry from Shar. She was clutching the hand of another guard, who had fallen in the street. A tentacle held him by the ankle, trying to draw him back to the same shadowy door where his companion had met death. The man was moaning, his face contorted in pain. Noph grasped the man's other hand and pulled. There was a dreadful moment of straining, and then suddenly resistance ceased, and Noph
