Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [46]
Tlork merely blinked, confused, as the carrot-shaped member straightened of its own accord and sucked in the blood dripping down his patchwork face. The troll's regeneration left very little that went uncured.
"Dumb them!" Tlork growled. "Dumb dims!" He hoped some of the dims had survived, so he could squish them.
The troll turned to see the floating blades coming again.
Those things wouldn't give up, even after Tlork made sure they were good and dead. Or had he just run past them? He couldn't remember.
Tlork hammered at the first one, but his weapon went through the blade like so much air. It wavered a bit, but kept slashing at his chest. Funny, it didn't make any noise-not even a good whistle through the air-and Tlork didn't feel the sting.
Any creature possessed of reason higher than that of an overripe turnip would have seen through the shadowy illusion, but Tlork had never been all that high in the garden hierarchy. Sun-baked green squash, slightly moldy, was about his level.
Tlork kept fighting the shadow swotds until they faded from view-only a few breaths. Then, unnerved at how they disappeared, the troll set to work dispensing with the rocky barrier.
As the dust settled, the adventurers found themselves breathless and in silence. Gargan lowered Taslin to the ground and stood ready with his blade, just in case the troll burst through the rubble. Slip moved stiffly to the sun elf s side and murmured healing prayers. Liet put a hand on Twilight's shoulder, though whether it was to comfort her or himself, she did not know.
She shook him off. Why would she want to feel, right now, rather than think?
Twilight scanned the dark corridor. It was not a worm's corridor but one carved by hand and pick. Nor was it of the shabby, rough craftsmanship of the grimlock city. She ran her fingers along the walls, feeling the subtle symmetries and imperfections.
Not dwarf work, either. Nor was it rounded and curved like the sewers. Rather, the tunnel was straight and smooth, traveling perhaps twenty paces before it branched right and left.
A new section of the depths? The concept made her uneasy.
"Liet," she said.
His eyes glazed and he did not respond for a second, seemingly lost. Twilight clenched her hands and bit her lip, uncomfortable at being patient.
"Liet!" Twilight snapped.
The youth started and looked over at her.
"Did you come through these tunnels to rescue us, or another set?"
"Can-can you not give us but a moment?" His voice was plaintive and weak. "I mean, Taslin, and Asson-he's-well, he's-"
"Dead," Twilight finished. Liet recoiled as from a slap. "As we shall be, unless we make sure no grimlocks can come after us. Sentiment comes only when we're safe."
Twilight could feel them staring at her-hard. Good. It distracted her, and them.
She continued. "Now, do those tunnels lead back to where you came from, or-?"
The youth scratched his head. "These… are the same tunnels, I think… but they seem different." He shrugged, and his eyes were damp. "We only got through guided by Gargan, and… and…" He trailed off.
So that's how it would be. Well, she could play this game. Twilight was adept at eliciting attention. "A maze?" She scowled.
As though shaken, Liet looked at her. "What's wrong?" "Bad experiences," she said, drawing his attention. "What do you find in mazes?"
"Ah," said Liet. "Twists and turns? Lots of dead ends?" Twilight shook her head. "Treasure at the center?"
"Minotaurs. And depending on the local wildlife, often ravenous ones."
"Oh. That." Liet's eyes were far away. It hadn't worked. "Just staying optimistic."
Twilight growled. "What?" she asked. "Are you all so stunned that you can't even hide to stay alive? Come on!"
No effect.
As though he heard and understood, Gargan thrust the sword through his belt and stepped to her side. The weapon shimmered in the torchlight. A row of emeralds met carvings of wind and flame along the back of the blade. The golden hilt depicted a coiled serpentine creature-its profile resembled a black dragon. Too lovely