Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [75]
"We're going with you," Beckla said grimly, crossing her arms over her flowing shirt and gray vest.
Behind her, in the thicket in which they had hidden themselves, Guss nodded solemnly. Muragh bounced up and down in the gargoyle's clawed hands to signal his agreement.
"It's my fault he was captured," Artek growled. "Don't you see? It's because of my blasted orcish side that he's in trouble. So it's up to my other side to get him out." He turned his back on the others, not wanting them to see the pain that twisted his face. Why did he always have to war against himself like this? Even as he posed the question, he knew the answer. When he suppressed the orcish part of him, he became an overly idealistic fool, someone who stupidly trusted that others would believe his innocence without proof of his guilt. Yet when he allowed the orc in him to reign free, he was brutish and violent-a cretin who drove a young man to danger with his insensitive words. Fool or brute, he could be one or the other. But he could never be whole.
Damn you, Artek, he cursed inwardly. Damn you, Arturg, and Arthaug before you. Yes, damn us all to the Abyss. The whole wretched family. I am what you made me, and I hate you for it.
"I know this seems horribly rude," Guss said in a serious but polite tone, "but you'll have to stop us from coming with you."
Artek let out an animalistic snarl. He did not have time for this! Hadn't they heard the ominous words of the madman? He glanced at the heart jewel; blue light still pulsed rapidly in the center, but that could change at any second.
"Suit yourself," Artek growled finally. "But don't get in my way. The dark gods know I can't say what will happen if you do." Artek then began to move through the trees, keeping to the shadowed edge of the clearing as he circled around the temple. Beckla and Guss followed quickly after him.
Finally, they reached the shore of the lake. Here the trees drew near to the temple-no more than thirty paces of grass lay between woods and walls. The gate was on the far side of the compound, and there were no watchtowers on this side. It seemed the priests were confident within their walled stronghold and that was well. Confidence led to conceit, which in turn led to carelessness.
Artek squatted, leather creaking, and considered the best way to gain entrance to the temple.
"I could fly over the walls," Guss suggested, sensing his train of thought.
Artek let out a derisive snort. "And why not carry a gong with you so you can announce to all the priests that you're dropping in?"
Guss's wings drooped and his toothy smile turned to a look of chagrin.
"What about you, wizard?" Artek whispered acidly. "Do you know any spells that can whisk us inside the temple?"
She fixed him with a sharp look. "I can cast a spell of teleportation. But you know as well as I that only a great mage could transport the three of us. Given my level of ability, I could probably teleport a dead vole into the temple. Would that be a help?"
That last question hardly needed the caustic irony she lavished upon it. Artek grunted. He had thought as much.
The temple stood directly on the edge of the lake, and water lapped against the rear wall of the compound. Artek made a decision. Without warning the others of his intention, he moved swiftly through the trees to the shore and dove into the icy lake. With swift, strong strokes he swam underwater until surfacing before the pinkish stone wall. Moments later, Beckla and Guss rose from the lake beside him. Both gasped for breath, though Muragh seemed unfazed. Of course, the skull was used to long submersion. Not needing to breathe helped, too.
Gritting his teeth, Artek began pulling himself up the wall. Guss gripped Beckla, who in turn held on to Muragh. Wings straining, the