Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [106]
Mari shuddered. "When will the pact end?" she managed to gasp. She felt ill.
The mage's eyes grew icy once more. "When I die."
The shadows of twilight crept through the narrow streets of the Old City like ghosts. It was time to go. The companions readied themselves as best they could in the warm firelight of the common room.
As Caledan adjusted his swordbelt, he saw the Harper and Morhion exchange a meaningful look. Something has happened between them, he thought, clenching his hands into fists. He swore softly under his breath. Yet why should whatever went on between those two be of concern to him?
"I wish I were going with you, wife," said Jolle regretfully as he hugged Estah close. His broad, usually cheerful face was troubled.
"You have two rather good reasons to stay," Tyveris said as he picked up Pog and Nog and tossed them, shrieking with laughter, into the air before setting them back down.
Mari spoke then. "Once Tyveris and I begin freeing the prisoners, guards will most likely be summoned to the dungeons. The tunnels beneath the Tor should clear out. With luck you will be able to find the entrance of the crypt of the Shadowking."
"Don't worry about me, Harper," Caledan growled. "You do your part tonight, and I'll do mine. After that, I never expect to see you or the Harpers again. You can save your meddling for somebody else. I've had enough of it."
For a moment the proud look on Mari's face wavered. She cast a brief glance at Morhion, her dark eyes troubled, then turned her gaze back to Caledan and thrust her chin out defiantly.
"Let's go, then," Tyveris said gruffly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
They kept to shadowed lanes and dim alleyways, hoping to avoid any confrontations with the Zhentarim. A silence hung over the city. There was not a trace of wind. It was as if the city itself knew that its fate hung in the balance this night and was holding its breath.
They were near the rear wall of the Temple of Selune when two dark forms suddenly separated themselves from the shadows of an alcove to join the companions. Caledan started to draw his sword in surprise, but Ferret's hand on his arm stayed the action.
"These are friends," the thief hissed.
"Well met, Ferret," one of the thieves, a slender, dark-haired woman with large, catlike eyes, whispered.
"Greetings, Kyana," Ferret answered the woman.
Kyana spied the big Tabaxi. "What is this?" she asked mischievously. "A disciple of Oghma sneaking around the city like a common criminal? A rather large disciple of Oghma at that."
Tyveris's face darkened. "I was a warrior long before I was a loremaster, thief," he said dangerously. "Don't forget it."
Kyana tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "Very well, I won't." She turned to Mari. “Talim and I will be going with you into the dungeons." She nodded toward the other thief, a young man-hardly more than a boy-with a mop of red hair. Mari started to protest, but Kyana held up a hand. "No arguments, Harper. If you want to use our entrance to the dungeons, you have to play by our rules. Besides, you're going to need some help springing all those locks on the prisoners' cells."
Kyana led them down a dank, foul-smelling alley. She stopped at a peeling wooden door, knocking three times before pausing, then twice after that. After a long moment the door opened. Caledan felt eyes watching them from all around.
Kyana led the way into the ill-lit building. There were numerous thieves inside, but it was difficult to count them all, for they kept to the shadowed corners. Kyana paid them no heed as she led the companions down a flight of rickety stairs into the basement The small stone room was littered with broken crates and rotted furniture. Against one wall slumped an ancient oaken wardrobe. Kyana