Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [13]
"From the lack of dust, 'tis a well-used portal, by my estimation," Asson said near Liet's side, startling him. The old man was surprisingly quick and silent.
"Estimation? I'm surprised you can even see it, old one," Davoren said. Taslin glared, but the warlock merely shrugged. " 'Tis no great slight to call an old man old."
Taslin drew back, but Asson laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. The priestess looked away from Davoren and gave her husband a gentle smile.
Then the chest clicked, and Liet turned back to Twilight. The lithe elf perched over the strongbox, a wide smile on her face. "Happy Naming Day, all."
"Gold is meant to help us?" the warlock asked.
The elf snapped open the lock and flung back the cover, revealing weapons, armor, and gear. Eyes lit up around the room, and the adventurers fell upon it.
From the chest, Taslin claimed a mithral long sword. Liet chose a paired thrusting sword and dagger, and Gargan took a great battle-axe. Deep in the chest, Liet saw a dusky old rapier.
"Betrayal," Twilight whispered as she lifted it.
"What?" Liet started.
Twilight didn't seem to hear. Her eyes locked on a certain blue gem medallion wrapped around the blade's hilt. Unobtrusively, she untangled it and secured the chain around her throat, leaving the pendant to hang beneath her torn chemise. Liet stared at her, curious, until Twilight returned the gaze. He looked away, balancing his sword.
"You know how to use one of those, then?" Twilight asked in his ear, and he whirled. He almost hit her in the face with the blade, and if she hadn't moved her rapier to parry, he would have slashed her. He thought he saw sparks.
"Well, uh, yes," Liet said. "The point, anyway."
"Well," Twilight said. She brought a hand up to her cheek and flicked the blade wide with a wink. "See that you mind it well."
Liet didn't know what she meant, but the way she said it made him flush.
Asson declined a weapon in favor of his staff. One item remained for Davoren and Slip to dispute-a small mace that would have been a weighty bludgeon in the halfling's hands.
"I care not," Davoren said. "My gifts are all the weapons I need." As if to reinforce the point, flames danced in his eyes. Liet shuddered.
Farther into the chest came further spoils, including a suit of golden mail fitted for Taslin, a pair of vambraces too large for any but Gargan, and a shield Liet himself claimed. Built of stout wood, with a sheath on its reverse for a dagger, the shield pleased him greatly.
Asson laid claim to a pouch seemingly of spellcasting ingredients. Twilight discovered a black belt holding lockpicks, tiny crossbow quarrels, and myriad small devices. Beneath these lay a pair of black gauntlets decorated with snarling devils that no one would claim except Davoren. The chest held a further collection of mixed equipment, including empty waterskins, rope, and a grappling hook. Slip seized a largely empty sack that seemed to contain scraps of cloth and a strand or two of rope. Taslin's eyes lit up when she removed a cloth-wrapped bundle, and she handed it to Asson reverently.
And beneath, folded, stacked, and reasonably clean, were- to Liet's weary eyes and filthy limbs-the greatest prizes of all.
Clearly, Twilight agreed. "Thanks be to Lady Doom," she whispered. Then, without a thought to modesty other than turning her back, she threw off her tattered shift.
Liet stared. As the elf's prisoner garb was tossed aside, and before her long, loose hair could fall down her back, Liet glimpsed a black tattoo of a many-pointed star at the base of her spine. He heard a sharp intake of breath and saw Taslin stiffen beside him.
He gaped, stunned by Twilight's abrupt lack of clothes, for a single breath before she spun back. Black trousers fit her slim legs snugly, while a white, billowing blouse lay light and loose around her soft curves. With a flourish, she added a deep scarlet half cape to the ensemble and pulled a leather glove onto her right hand.
She must have