Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [30]
The wizard made an intricate gesture with her hand. The pebble began to descend. It continued to sink slowly as they watched in growing alarm. At last it came to a halt halfway between floor and ceiling.
"Is that very deep?" Artek asked nervously.
Beckla nodded. "If we were still in the halls where we met, the pebble would be no more than a foot below the ceiling." A haunted look crept into her brown eyes. "I don't think anyone has ever been this deep in Undermountain before. At least, not any who lived to tell about it."
Cold dread filled Artek's stomach. "But that's impossible," he said emphatically. "You said that we couldn't teleport out of the maze. You didn't say that a gate would fail as well!"
"A gate is different from a teleport spell, Artek." Beckla fixed him with a piercing look. "It should have worked. What did you do?"
"It wasn't me!" he said defensively.
"Well, somebody did something."
At this Artek nodded, scratching his chin. "You're right. And there's only one person who might be able to help us understand exactly what happened."
As one, Artek and Beckla turned to glare at Corin.
"What?" the lord gasped in shock, clutching a hand to his chest. "You can't possibly believe that I had anything to do with this."
"No, I don't," Artek replied gruffly. "But I think it's time we heard your story all the same."
Corin mopped his face with the ruffled cuff of his coat. The effort did little besides smear around the grime, but the nobleman was oblivious to this fact.
"Let's see," Corin began. "It all started when Lord Darien Thal invited me on a hunt into Undermountain. I had never ventured into Halaster's halls before, and I was thrilled at the prospect. It's all the rage these days, you know."
Artek and Beckla rolled their eyes but kept listening.
"The hunting party set out from Lord Thal's private entrance into Undermountain," Corin went on, his enthusiasm growing. "We were a grand sight. A dozen strong, and all bearing bright swords. Of course, I had my trusty rapier here." He patted the slender blade at his hip.
Artek barely managed to stifle a snort. A real monster wouldn't even feel the bite of that rat-sticker. Nobles, he thought derisively-they were all fools of fashion, and nothing more.
"I was having an absolutely marvelous time." Corin's bright expression darkened. "That is, until I got lost. It was my own fault. I lingered behind to examine a fascinating stone vase-I think it was Third Dynasty Calishite-while the others continued on ahead. When I tried to catch up, the rest of the party was nowhere to be seen. We had been making for a place called the Emerald Fountain. I tried to find the fountain, hoping to meet the others there, but it was no use. And then," said Corin, shuddering, "the Outcasts captured me."
"Wait a minute," Beckla interrupted. "Why were you going to the Emerald Fountain?"
"It was Darien's idea," Corin answered. "He said it was a magical font, and that if I drank from its waters, I would gain wisdom beyond my years. I could do with a little extra wisdom, as I am to take the seventh seat on the Circle of Nobles in two days' time."
"It's not wisdom you would have gained from drinking from the Emerald Fountain," Beckla said darkly. "Death is all you would have found in its green waters."
"But Darien's my dearest friend!" Corin protested. "Why would he tell me to drink from the fountain if it wasn't safe?"
Artek bit his lower lip. That was a good question. "Tell me something, Silvertor," he said. "If you were not present when the vote was held, who would ascend to the Circle of Nobles in your stead?"
Corin shrugged. "Why, I imagine Lord Thal is the next in line. But what does that-oh!" The young lord's eyes went wide with sudden realization.
Artek nodded. This was all starting to make sense. He plied Corin with more questions about Darien Thal and the hunting trip and soon pieced together a story. While he wasn't certain