Depths of Madness - Erik Scott De Bie [55]
"Courage," Taslin whispered. "You are older than the boy you act-be the man you are." She kissed his cheek, softly.
He would do it.
Liet got to his feet. "I shall return," he said. "I'll bring her with me."
"Go," Taslin said peaceably. Her hand snaked out to caress bare stone beside her, though she didn't seem to notice. "I shall be well."
He looked from Taslin to Davoren, a bit nervous to leave them. But he pushed fear away. Liet wasn't convinced, but he didn't care-not more than he did about Twilight.
The passage yawned forbiddingly, but he was determined. He stole after Twilight, quiet without his boots, seeking where she might have gone. He heard the rapier scabbard clicking against the stone ahead, and followed the sounds.
He saw a flicker of movement. "Slip?" he asked, hesitantly. The figure froze, staring, then dashed around a corner. Hand on his sword, Liet hurried after;
He turned the corner and gasped, seeing a light glimmer on the far wall. There was movement. He dropped his hand to his sword and stepped forward, cautiously, straining to see. He couldn't make it out clearly, but it looked like a black hand-he couldn't count the fingers-extending out of the wall itself. As he approached, the hand snaked around and extended its palm toward him. He saw an eye in its midst.
His own eyes widening, Liet hurled himself into the shadows and froze. He had no power, no magic of his own-at least, none that he could use. What could he do against… whatever this thing was?
The arm twisted back toward the wall and searched along its surface. Then, as Liet watched, it dipped its fingers into the stone as though into pudding and reshaped it. The hand simply tore a gash in the wall, revealing a new passage. The stone bled drops of black onto the floor. Liet's stomach rose. He looked back, fearful, wondering whether Taslin or Davoren could arrive soon enough to save him.
Clutching himself tightly, Liet massaged his arms and winced at the sudden burning pain. Why did they hurt now?
Then the hand was gone, snaking back into that shimmer, which winked out, leaving him in blackness-blackness that was complete except for the torchlight flickering from the new passage. He crept up to it, wary that the hand would reappear, and looked in. More sewers beckoned that they had never been in before.
" 'Light," Liet said. He needed to tell her of this. " 'Light!"
In the darkness-less than a pace from where the useless one hid-Gestal took careful note of the hand from the wall. It did not please Lord Divergence, being this far into the lower domain. Certain forces would not welcome his presence.
The eyes turned back down the passage whence the useless one had come. Yes.
Gestal had an appointment to keep.
He found her after only a few breaths-silent, still, in the middle of the corridor. Twilight's head was bowed as though she were praying. Liet's heart hammered in his throat. He opened his mouth but forgot whatever he had been about to say. As he tried to remember, his thought slipped away.
Liet was about to speak when Twilight's hand shot out and grasped his collar. Before he could say a word, she slammed him against the wall and put a thin, sharp knife to his throat. Liet squeaked, and she withdrew the blade and sighed.
"Torm's name!" he cried. "You can't just say 'well met'-like a sane lady?"
"You can't just approach from the light, spouting poetry, like a conventional suitor?" Twilight put the knife away.
Heat shot into his face. "I, ah, I guess I'm sneakier than I thought." His eyes widened. "I'm-I'm really not trying to sneak up on you!"
The elf smiled halfway. "A lass can never be too cautious," she said. "Strange men, creeping about dark corners, watching lasses from hiding, carrying sharp steel?"
"I see your aim," said Liet. "I'd have spoken, but I reasoned you'd hear…"
"And you were correct," said Twilight. "Just here to gawk as I take my rest, or do you have a purpose?"