Black wizards - Douglas Niles [115]
They allowed him to lead the way into the passage. He hurried forward for about a hundred yards and then stopped as the narrow passage opened into a huge chamber. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, and several pools of water, so clear as to be almost invisible, dotted the floor. The torchlight flickered and flared, creating moving shadows that gave the place a menacing look.
But the strangest feature of the room was at its center: A table and a dozen stone chairs rested upon a flat space in the floor. The obviously manmade furnishings looked completely out of place in a locale of such natural splendor.
Alexei noticed his companions' looks of puzzlement. "This is a secret meeting place for the council," he explained. "For when Cyndre wished to avoid gathering in the castle. It is used very rarely; I doubt the younger wizards even know of its existence."
"Amazing," murmured the prince, looking in wonder at the beauty of the cave.
"And the reason you brought us here?" asked Daryth.
"Oh, yes – here!" Alexei moved around the table, holding the torch high. "See that chest there?"
The other two joined him. He indicated a large wooden chest near the far wall of the cave. It sat in the center of a smooth circle of floor that was about thirty feet in diameter.
"If we can get into that chest, I will not be crippled any longer," explained the mage.
"I'll see what I can do," offered Daryth, stepping forward.
"Wait!" Alexei grabbed Daryth's collar with one of his clawlike hands, pulling the Calishite back before he stepped onto the smooth expanse of floor. "There are traps!"
"I might have known" grumbled Daryth. "Just how important is the stuff in that chest?"
"It could mean the difference between our escape and our deaths," said the mage gravely.
"What do you know about the traps?"
"The floor is false, for one thing, a deep pit filled with soft dust. You would sink to the bottom and choke to death – a most horrible death.
"And the chest itself has a trap – something in the lock."
"You're sure we need these 'treasures'?"
Alexei shrugged, not wanting to press the point. Tristan didn't say anything. They all knew that Daryth was the only one with the skill necessary to pick the lock and, perhaps, to avoid the trap there. It would have to be his decision.
"Well, I'll have a look at it, anyway," muttered the Calishite. "How do I get over there?"
"We could stretch the table across the pit," offered the prince. Indeed, the boards were just about the right length to extend from the edge of the pit to the chest in the center.
"Everyone's got a way to get me killed," grunted Daryth. Nevertheless, he turned to lift one end of the solid platform.
Alexei held the torch as Daryth and Tristan wrestled the heavy tabletop into position. At one point, they dipped a corner of it onto the surface of the floor. It met no more resistance than if it had touched water, and sent a cloud of fine dust into the air.
Daryth took the torch and carefully walked to the chest. He knelt and examined the mechanism of the lock for several minutes. Tristan was acutely conscious of the torch burning lower, but he didn't dare say anything to break his friend's concentration.
Slowly, the Calishite drew the narrowest of the wire probes from his glove. Clenching his jaws in concentration, he stuck it into the keyhole, holding it at a sharp angle instead of pushing straight in.
The tiny click was barely audible to Tristan, but in the torchlight he saw a gleaming silver needle stick suddenly forth from the lock. It stopped, less than an inch from Daryth's hand. Even at this distance, the prince could see a greenish substance smeared on the end of the needle.
Daryth bent over the lock again, and it was only a matter of moments before the clasp released and he threw back the lid of the chest.
"These are supposed to save our lives?" he asked, incredulous. He pulled forth three tubes of rolled parchment, wrapped in smooth leather cases. Puzzled, he brought them to Alexei.
"Yes!" the