Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [31]
Without doubt, Lord Darien Thal wanted the vacant seat on the Circle of Nobles for himself. He had invited Corin on a hunt into Undermountain, secretly planning for the young lord to meet with an unfortunate "accident," after which nothing would stand between Darien and the seat on the Circle. Yet Darien had not counted on Corin getting lost before the foolish young lord could be disposed of.
That's where I came in, Artek thought angrily. Darien did not want to take the chance that Corin would somehow manage to stumble on a way out of Undermountain in time for the vote. He needed someone to go below and finish the job. All along it had been Artek's task not to rescue Corin, but to make certain that he never returned from Undermountain. The golden box from Melthis had not malfunctioned at all. The gate had taken them exactly where Darien had intended-deeper into Undermountain.
"Guhr og noth!" Artek swore. It was an orcish oath, learned from his father. Rage boiled in his blood at the one possible conclusion.
Lord Darien Thal had betrayed him.
4
Webs of Deceit
Arms crossed over her chest, Beckla paced in agitation before a leering statue of some nameless beast. Corin watched, apprehension written plainly across his boyish face.
"This is just wonderful," the wizard said acidly. "I thought you were going to get me out of this dump, Ar'talen, and now I'm deeper than ever." She let out a sharp sigh of exasperation. "I suppose that will teach me to trust a thief."
Artek slumped against a wall. He stared blankly at the bas-relief carving of lost souls falling into the dark void of the Abyss. So this is how the line of Arthaug ends, he thought bitterly. Not in glory, ruling over the Garug-Mal once more, but in ignominy, alone and forgotten in a hole in the ground. Artek sighed dejectedly. He had been wrong to turn his back on the darkness within him. And this was the punishment that deed had wrought.
"I'm sorry to have led you to a bad end, Beckla," he said hoarsely. "I didn't mean for it to turn out this way."
The wizard paused in her pacing to glare hotly at him. "Oh, that's just great," she said disgustedly. "First you get me into this mess, and then you decide to just lie down and give up. You know, I don't think you're half the thief all the stories made you out to be, Artek Ar'talen."
No, I'm only a quarter, he almost spat, but swallowed the words instead. "You said it yourself, Beckla," he said grimly. "No one has ever gone this deep in Undermountain and returned to tell about it. In an entire year, you couldn't find a way out of this maze's uppermost halls. So what chance do we have this deep down?"
Beckla clenched her too-square jaw angrily but said nothing.
After an uncomfortable silence, Corin cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he said in a meek voice. "I know I'm hardly the most qualified person to offer an opinion on this matter, seeing as I'm the one who's theoretically being rescued here." He made a vaguely hopeful gesture with his hands. "But couldn't we at least try to find a way out of this dreadful place? It certainly seems like the reasonable thing to do."
Artek let out a derisive snort. "You see this?" He thrust out his arm, pulling up the sleeve of his jerkin to reveal the magical tattoo. "In less than two days, this thing is going to kill me. And in less than two days, the nobility of Waterdeep is going to hold its vote, and Lord Darien Thal will ascend to the seventh seat on the Circle of Nobles."
He jerked the sleeve back down, covering the tattoo. "Don't you understand? There's no point in trying to escape. Even if we could find a way out of this hole, it would certainly take us more than two days, and by that time I'd be dead. And if you managed to get out, Corin, I'm sure the first thing Darien would do in his new position of power would be to find a way to dispose of you."
Chagrined, Corin fell silent and hung his head.
"Well, that still leaves me," Beckla snapped. "Or had you forgotten? I certainly still want to try