Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [15]
Darien rose to his feet and slowly approached Artek. "Yes, I can see it," he murmured in fascination. "Though I would hardly notice it if I didn't know what to look for. You are handsome enough in a swarthy way. But the signs are there: brow ridges slightly too thick, jaw a little too protruding, shoulders a bit too heavy. And those eyes-the jet-black eyes give it away." The nobleman's lip curled up in disgust. "Orc blood indeed runs in your veins, doesn't it, Ar'talen?"
Artek glowered but said nothing. He felt suddenly naked and exposed, and not because of his lack of clothes.
Darien opened a trunk next to the table and pulled out a bundle of dark leather. He heaved it toward Artek. "Here. Put these on. I believe black is your favorite color."
Artek put on the clothes: jerkin, breeches, and boots. The supple black leathers fit his body tightly but comfortably, as if made just for him.
"Take this," Melthis said, pressing the heart jewel into Artek's hand. "It will guide you to Lord Silvertor. I have two other objects for you as well." He handed Artek a curved saber in a leather sheath. "This sword is enchanted, and will lend you strength against any enemy you may encounter." Finally he held out a small golden box. "And this is a transportation device. If you open it, a magical gate will appear. All you have to do is step through and you will be instantly transported out of Undermountain."
Artek belted the sword around his waist, then tucked the heart jewel and the golden box into his pocket. It was good to know that he had a way out of Undermountain if things looked bad.
Darien nodded in approval. "There's only one more thing we need to do, Ar'talen. Hold out your arm."
Artek eyed the noble warily, but did as he was told. Melthis rolled up the sleeve of Artek's jerkin. Then, using a quill pen and a jar of black ink, the wizard drew an intricate tattoo on his arm: a wheel depicting a stylized sun and moon, with an arrow next to it. In the center of the wheel was a grinning skull. Artek wondered what it could possibly mean.
Setting down the pen and ink, Melthis held his hand over the tattoo and whispered a dissonant incantation. The lines of ink glowed with scarlet light, then went dark again. Artek felt no pain, only a cool tingling against his skin.
"What was that all about?" he asked with a frown as Melthis moved away.
A mysterious smile played around the corners of Darien's mouth. "Take a closer look at the tattoo, Ar'talen."
Feeling a sudden chill at the nobleman's words, Artek looked. At first he noticed nothing unusual. Then he blinked in surprise. Slowly but perceptibly, the circle drawn upon his arm was moving, the sun and moon spinning around the grinning skull.
"The tattoo is linked to the movements of the sun and moon in the sky above," Darien explained in cool tones. "No matter how deep in the ground you go, the wheel will move as they move. As you can see, the sun is just passing the arrow, for it is sunrise outside. If the sun passes the arrow twice more-that is, in exactly two days-the tattoo will send out a small but precisely calibrated jolt of magical energy. At that moment your heart will stop beating. Forever."
For a moment Artek could only gape at Darien in open-mouthed shock. Then rage ignited in his chest.
Artek lunged at the nobleman. At the same time, Darien pulled his right hand from beneath his coat. Artek froze. It wasn't a hand on the end of Darien's arm, but some sort of metallic device. Three viciously barbed prongs sprang from the end of the metal cylinder, whirling rapidly.
"Killing me will get you nowhere, Ar'talen." The nobleman's voice was not angry, merely matter-of-fact. "I will have Melthis remove the tattoo only when you return from Undermountain-with Lord Corin Silvertor. Return without Silvertor, and I will do nothing." The whirling prongs drew closer to Artek's face. "Now, what do you say?"
Hatred boiled in Artek's blood.