Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [54]
She thought she heard Taslin say something behind her, but the words hurt less than those pained eyes, stabbing into her back.
"May Corellon guide you," the sun elf said. "And may you accept his hand."
CHAPTER Twelve
Liet breathed a sigh of relief when Davoren returned. His demeanor showed no aggression or wrath, surprisingly, and his eyes darted nervously. Liet wondered, with no small shiver, what could make the invincible warlock afraid.
A short time later, Liet saw Twilight gliding from the tunnel in the direction that Taslin had gone several bells earlier. "Take this night for mourning if you wish, rest if you do not." Her tone made it clear she addressed them all.
Taslin, nude but for the cloak they had found for her, followed not far behind, and Liet had to look at her twice. He glanced at Twilight, wide-eyed, but she didn't return it.
Twilight continued. Her voice sounded tired. "Tomorrow, we head south-circling back to the rising tunnel Slip found."
They nodded solemnly. Gargan was the only one who made a sound.
"Goli lenamaka nae" he said. Then he separated from the others, hand on the hilt of the sword he had taken, and disappeared into the tunnels.
Slip blinked out of her doze and watched the receding goliath. "Hey!" she called. "Hey, wait!" She got up and ran after him into the darkness. Gargan paused and waited until Slip reached his side, and they disappeared together.
Twilight stared after them. Taslin crossed to her side and laid a hand on her elbow. "He goes to keep watch," she said, pointing to her earring.
Twilight seemed to accept the priestess's words, though she looked decidedly uncomfortable. She shrugged, took up her sword, and wandered toward a tunnel.
"Wait, 'Light," Liet said with a start, but the shadowdancer was already gone into darkness.
"Don't need you," Davoren murmured, huddled against the wall. Blood dripped from his mouth as though he had bit his lip. "Don't need any of you."
"Eh?" Liet said. "What did-?"
"Silence!" Davoren snapped, with more self-loathing than real anger. Still, it was enough to stun Liet. The warlock went back to muttering. "Don't need you-any of you."
The Dalesman bit his lip and suppressed a nervous shudder.
It occurred to him that Davoren was wrong. Each of them needed the others to survive, and not just for protection. They provided one another something else in the darkness: drive, or purpose, perhaps. Slip and Gargan had each other, it seemed, and Taslin had depended on Asson.
He looked at the scarred priestess, who meditated two paces distant. Would she die, now that she had no ally? No. Liet resolved that he would protect her. She had been kind to him, and he felt for her, with Asson gone.
Observing the shuddering warlock, Liet imagined that Davoren lived only because of Twilight's protection. They were not friends, certainly, but allies? The two of them had entered this dungeon together as companions at arms, but was there any true connection between them?
What of Twilight? Who was her protection? Certainly not Davoren, and all the fire seemed to have gone out of Taslin. Gargan was an enigma, and Slip had enough trouble watching out for herself. Perhaps…
A hand fell on his arm, and he jumped. It was Taslin. Her scarred face may have lost some of its beauty, but her eyes had lost none of their intensity. He felt calm, peaceful, in that gaze.
"Go to her," the priestess said. "She craves solitude, but she needs you. You and she are so alike-younger than this world demands."
"What?" Liet asked, dumbfounded.
"Do you not desire her?" Taslin asked. In the corner, Davoren was a thousand leagues away. "You stand close to her, and your hand reaches for hers. You laugh just a touch too loud, and stare a breath too long."
"I don't…"
"Have you never had a woman, young master Liet?"
"Well, ah, um-" She put a finger to his lips. She reminded him of Twilight.
"My heart will mend," she said. "Hers…" She gazed toward the corridor.
Liet hesitated. He wanted with all his being to go after Twilight. What he would