Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [38]
Beckla let out a fierce oath. "All right, I'll see if I can use my magic to remove the-"
The wizard's words turned into a scream as a pale form dropped down from above, landing on her back. Her cry was cut short as ghostly pincers dug into the back of her neck. Her body went limp, and she fell to the floor. The still-burning staff slipped from her fingers, rolling away.
Out of the corner of his eye, Artek saw Beckla fall. He strained against the dancing blade in his hands, face twisted in effort, then managed to turn it on the spider that clung to the wizard. The saber sliced through the thing's bloated abdomen. It waved its thin legs, then exploded into a puff of foul vapor.
Grim satisfaction turned to cold terror as Artek realized that his back was now toward the other wraith spiders. Sensing their prey's vulnerability, they chittered hatefully, closing in. Artek knew he had mere moments to live.
His eyes fell upon Beckla's burning staff, and an idea struck him. But he could not let go of the cursed saber. There was only one chance.
"Corin!" he shouted. "Grab the staff and hold it over your head!"
The lord stared at the approaching spiders, frozen in horror. He did not move.
"Now, Corin!" Artek screamed. "If there is any drop of truly noble blood in your veins, do it!"
The young lord blinked. Mechanically, he obeyed Artek's orders. He gripped the staff, then thrust the blazing end over his head just as the wraith spiders closed in. Flame licked the bottom of a clump of pale webs dangling from the ceiling. For a terrible second, Artek thought his plan had failed. Then crimson fire snaked up the hanging strands, and all at once the chamber's entire ceiling burst into roaring flame. Gobs of burning web dropped down, landing on the wraith spiders. They shrieked and writhed as they were engulfed in crackling fire.
As his enemies were consumed, Artek felt the cursed saber release his arms. He thrust the blade back into its sheath, then bent down to scoop up Beckla's motionless form. He threw the limp wizard over his shoulder.
"Run, Corin!" he shouted over the roar of the flames.
This time the lord obeyed. They dodged falling clumps of blazing spider web and dashed through the door. Leaving behind the blazing inferno of death, they ran into cool darkness.
5
Ancient Footsteps
When they no longer heard the roar of flames and the echoing shrieks of the wraith spiders, Artek slowed to a halt, still balancing the motionless wizard over his broad shoulders. A second later, Corin-unable to see in the thick gloom-collided with Artek's back. The nobleman stumbled, caught himself, then leaned against a slimy wall, clutching his chest and gasping for breath. Artek glanced down at Beckla's face. Her eyes were closed, her skin deathly pale. He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. They needed to stop and rest, but not here, not in this open stone corridor. There was no telling what things might wander by and catch them unaware. They needed someplace out of the way, someplace safe.
Then something caught Artek's eye. Set as it was into a deep alcove, he almost didn't notice it, even with the aid of his darkvision. It was a small wooden door. Resting behind a portal they could barricade would certainly be preferable to sitting in the middle of a drafty passageway. Artek made for the alcove, and Corin stumbled after him, feeling his way through the murk.
The door was locked. Artek drew the dagger from his boot, slipped the tip into the iron lock, and gave it an expert twist. The door swung open with a groan. Beyond was a small chamber bathed in leprous green light that emanated from phosphorescent fungus clinging to the room's damp walls. It was not a wholesome light, but at least Corin would be able to see. They entered the room, and Artek shut and relocked the door behind them.
"I must say, I've had better accommodations," Corin noted in a quavering voice.
"But you can't beat the price,"