Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [43]
"Hey, stop that!" Muragh complained. "You're giving me a headache!"
By force of will, Artek managed to keep his fingers from squeezing. "Sorry," he grumbled.
"I'm touched by your sincerity," the skull quipped sarcastically. "Now turn left here."
They passed through an archway and found themselves descending a narrow spiral staircase. The steps were slick and treacherous. Several cracked beneath Artek's boots, and one gave way completely when Corin trod upon it. If not for Beckla's quick hand pulling him back, the nobleman would have crashed into Artek, and both would have gone tumbling breakneck down the steep staircase. The steps seemed without end as they delved deeper into the darkness.
Finally the staircase stopped, and they stepped through an opening into a passageway so broad that it was not so much a corridor as an avenue. A line of basalt columns ran down the center of the hall, supporting the arched ceiling high above. The columns were skillfully carved into the shapes of trees, conjuring the illusion of walking down a sylvan boulevard under the shadows of dusk.
Artek let out a low whistle, turning his head to try to take in the grandeur of the subterranean road. "I'll give Halaster one thing-he knew how to think big."
"Actually, Halaster didn't build this passage," Muragh said. "It's even older than the mad wizard. This road was built by dwarves of the clan Melairkyn. In ancient days, they constructed an entire city here, called Underhall, far beneath the surface."
"What happened to them?" Beckla murmured in awe.
"No one knows for certain," Muragh replied. "They disappeared centuries before Halaster stumbled onto their delvings in the course of his excavations. Most likely they were slain by the duergar-dark dwarves who skulked in these halls until Halaster showed up. He decided he wanted Underhall for himself. Not being keen on sharing, Halaster eradicated the duergar like so many rats. After that, Underhall became part of Undermountain proper."
Artek took a deep breath. The weight of years hung heavily on this place. He almost could hear the ghostly ring of hammers, drifting in the air like echoes from the past.
"Is this what you wanted to show us, Muragh?" he asked.
"No, over there," the skull said, clacking his jaw in the direction of one of the stone columns.
Artek and the others approached the column. Scratched into the dark stone were several lines of strange, flowing writing. Beneath the writing was an arrow that pointed down the ancient road. The words looked somehow familiar, but Artek could not make them out. Whatever it was, it wasn't written in the common tongue. He shook his head, his annoyance growing.
"Muragh," he warned, "please don't tell me that you brought us all this way just to look at thousand-year-old markings."
"What's wrong with you, Ar'talen?" Muragh complained. "Can't you read what it says?"
"No, I can't," Artek snapped. He glanced questioningly at Beckla.
"Don't look at me," the wizard told him. "I can't read it either. Though I'm willing to bet it's a naughty poem," she added with a disgusted glance at the skull.
"Excuse me," Corin said suddenly, pushing past them to get a closer look at the column. He peered at the words with his blue eyes, then clapped his hands excitedly. "Oh, this is absolutely fascinating!"
Artek and Beckla stared in shock at the nobleman.
"You can read this, Corin?" Artek asked.
"Of course," Corin replied smoothly, as if it were a silly question. "It's written in Thorass."
"Thorass?"
"That's right," the nobleman said. "Thorass, also known as Auld Common. It's the tongue our ancestors spoke long ago, and from which the current common tongue is derived. I learned to read it as a child, studying the old Silvertor family history. It goes back centuries, you know. In fact, it all started when-"
"I'm sure your family's story is enthralling, Corin," Artek interrupted. "But we're in a bit of a hurry. Do you think you could just tell us what this says?"
Corin studied the words a moment more, then nodded to himself. " 'On this, the