Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [25]
He shot the wizard a questioning look. "Are you certain you still want to come with me, Beckla?"
"That little golden box of yours might be the only way I'm ever going to get out of here." She crossed her arms, fixing him with an even gaze.
"You could just kill me and take it, you know."
Her lips parted in a crooked grin. "If I was going to do that, wouldn't I have done it by now?"
Despite his fear, he let out a laugh. "I suppose so."
Together, they stepped through the archway's gaping mouth.
While elsewhere the dank air of Undermountain had been oppressive, here it was downright menacing. As they went, the darkness parted sluggishly before Beckla's flickering ball of magelight and closed turgidly behind them, like oily water in the wake of a ship. Artek found himself taking shallow breaths; he was reluctant to draw the noxious atmosphere into his lungs, as if once inside his body it might fester, filling him with its dark disease. He knew that they were not welcome here.
The two walked down a twisting tunnel; its walls were strangely curved and ridged. A dark, glistening mucus covered them, dripping onto the floor, which was nauseatingly soft and spongy under their feet. In all, the tunnel seemed as if it had not been hewn of stone, but was alive. Artek felt as if they had been swallowed by a gigantic creature, and were now moving down its long, sinuous esophagus. Hot bile rose in his own throat. He tried to force the queasy image from his mind, but had little success.
They had gone only a short way when the moist tunnel divided. They paused, and Artek pulled the heart jewel out of his pocket. The blue light glimmering in the center was stronger now. He moved a few paces down the right-hand passageway. The gem flickered. He retraced his steps, then padded down the left-hand tunnel. The glow inside the heart jewel steadied and strengthened.
"This way," Artek whispered.
Beckla followed after him, and the two moved down the slime-covered passage. Before long the tunnel forked again, and again. Each time Artek used the glowing heart jewel to determine which way they should take. Soon they found themselves in a labyrinth of networking tunnels, branching and rejoining countless times in a chaotically braided pattern. Artek began to wonder if they could ever find their way back out if they needed to. He did not voice his fear.
A distant thrum vibrated in the air. It was so low that they felt it more than they heard it, reverberating beneath their feet, almost like the sound of a beating heart. Otherwise, the winding tunnels were utterly silent. The grunts and howls that had drifted out of the mouth-arch had ceased. The quiet was even more disturbing.
"Where are the Outcasts?" Artek hissed when the silence became almost unbearable.
Beckla bit her lip nervously. "I don't know. But I almost wish they would just show themselves. I don't think facing them could be any more horrible than wondering and waiting."
There was nothing to do but keep moving. The tunnel opened up before them, and they found themselves in a smooth-walled chamber. Glossy shapes were embedded in the wall, livid and throbbing, like huge organs. Sickened, they hurried across the squelching floor and moved through a circular opening in the far wall.
Artek glanced at the heart jewel in his hand. The light in the center was so bright they hardly needed Beckla's magelight. The glow pulsed steadily, echoing the lost lord's heart. Silvertor was still alive. And by the rapid rate of his pulse, Artek guessed he was terribly afraid-as well he should be in this place. But the nobleman was close now, Artek was sure.
They rounded a sharp bend, then skidded to an abrupt halt. Something was embedded in the tunnel wall, something alive. It writhed beneath a translucent sheath of tough mucus, like an insect inside a chrysalis. In dread fascination, Artek and Beckla approached.
It was a person. For a moment, Artek thought it might be Lord Silvertor, but as they drew near, he saw that this was