Bladesinger - Keith Francis Strohm [91]
"You stay here," he commanded softly, "and let us know if anything tries to come at us from this direction."
As loathe as he was to trust their fate to this ensorcelled goblin, Yurz had proven a decent enough companion. With a sharp hand signal to the others, Taen indicated that they were ready. The half-elf took three deep breaths and launched himself against the stone door.
* * * * *
Marissa swam out of an ocean of shadow and into the dim light of her cell. Her eyes opened slowly, as if weighed down by lodestones. She blinked heavily, until the outline of her tormentor resolved into clear focus. Still disoriented from her return to consciousness, it took the druid a few moments to realize that something seemed different about the half-orc. The cleric's calm and confident watchfulness had disappeared, shattered, Marissa eventually realized, as the sounds of a nearby battle reached her ears, by what occurred beyond the doorway to the cell.
Now her captor knelt upon the obdurate stone floor and whispered prayers to her dark god. Purple and green energy suffused the cleric's body, eventually fading beyond sight. When the half-orc finally stood, the air was thick with divine power. The weight of it nearly gagged Marissa.
Still, hope surged within her. She was not alone! Her friends were just beyond that doorway. Marissa had never really believed the words of the half-orc, but despair had become a difficult suitor to deny in the darkness of her pain and torment.
"Do not think that this changes anything," her captor said in an icy tone. "The creature that guards that door will be more than a match for your pathetic friends."
The half-orc's words were like hot knives plunging into her chest. Marissa's hope faltered, and sadness welled up within her at the thought of Taenaran and the others lying dead beyond that doorway. Despite her best attempts at stifling them, sobs of anguish began to rack her body.
"Shut up," the half-orc commanded, punctuating her demand with a hard slap across the face. Marissa felt blood begin to trickle down from her nose. The hot liquid ran into her mouth, causing her to gag. Hands grabbed at her hair, causing the druid's head to snap back sharply. "If you make another sound," the half-orc hissed in her ear, "I will make sure that my mistress greets each of your friends personally before their blood waters the ancient stones of her altar. Is that understood?"
Marissa shook her head mutely, all the while praying to Rillifane for guidance and perseverance. When the sounds of battle stopped and silence fell beyond the doorway, it took all of Marissa's strength to not cry out. Instead, she held her breath, waiting to see who had triumphed.
Nothing happened.
For the space of thirty heartbeats the world lay in complete stillness. Nothing moved or made the slightest sound. "You see," Marissa's captor began, "I told you-"
When the stone door flew open and the world erupted into light, the druid called out Taenaran's name.
* * * * *
The door opened into darkness-a deep, shadow-filled haze from which ushered the sound of his name. Taen's heart leaped as he heard Marissa's voice calling out to him. They had not arrived too late to save her. Now they only had to stay alive long enough to walk out of here with the druid.
Light from the corridor behind him spilled into the room, banishing the gloom that hung about the chamber like a pall. Manacles and other more dire devices hung from the walls and ceiling. Dark reddish brown stains covered the floor, growing thicker and more numerous beneath the spiked chains that ran along the wall. Taen nearly gagged at the stench of bitter herbs and rancid