Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [82]
A shout suddenly echoed down the tunnel. It was not the drone of a ferragan, but a human voice.
"Get your rusty hands off me!"
Artek would recognize that tone of cutting indignation anywhere. It was Beckla.
He sprang into motion and dashed down the tunnel. The walls fell away, and he found himself in a large cavern, its stony ceiling lit by a flickering crimson glow. A fierce heat wavered in the air, created by a bubbling pit of molten metal in the center of the chamber. Even as Artek watched, a ferragan dropped a chunk of iron into the pit. It melted and sank into the glowing pool. Then another sight caught his eyes, and his heart lurched in his chest.
Three ferragans each dragged a struggling form toward the smoking pit. Two of the forms wore crimson cloaks, and all three wore masks of beaten bronze. Artek was surprised that the masks had not come loose in the fall down the pit.
"Unhand us immediately!" the figure without a cloak cried imperiously. Corin.
"Chhhk," one of the ferragans said. "This metal is reluctant."
"Must not resist," another iron creature droned. "All metal must be melted. Vrrrt. That is Squch's rule."
Dark realization struck Artek. Seeing their bronze masks, the dull-witted ferragans must have mistaken Beckla, Corin, and Guss for pieces of scrap metal. And now the creatures were going to melt them down.
11
Specimens
Wizard, noble, and gargoyle fought against the pincers that held them, but living muscles-even those forged from stone-were of no use against hard iron. The ferragans clambered near the bubbling pit and raised their jointed appendages, preparing to cast their struggling burdens toward the vat of molten liquid. Beckla, Corin, and Guss would be burned alive. Artek had to do something. But what?
Before he could think of an answer, a piercing sound-high and keening, like an alarm-filled the air of the cavern. The ferragans abruptly froze. In what seemed like terror, they stared at an opening in the far wall of the chamber, their glass eyes bobbing on the ends of wiry stalks.
Clanking, a half-dozen hulking forms appeared in the far opening and scuttled into the cavern on multiple legs. Their shells were as bright as polished steel, and they waved great serrated claws before them and dragged flat, razor-sharp tails behind. To Artek, they looked for all the world like gigantic steel lobsters. They surrounded the three ferragans cowering near the pit of liquid metal.
"HALT!" one of the creatures ordered in a thrumming monotone.
"DROP!" commanded another.
Clicking in fear, the ferragans opened their pincers, releasing Beckla, Corin, and Guss. The three fell to the floor mere inches from the edge of the fiery pit. They tried to crawl away but were stopped by the impenetrable line of lobster-creatures.
"PRISONERS!" said one of the steel-shelled newcomers. "OURS!"
Beckla tore off her bronze mask, and Guss and Corin did the same, staring at the creatures in horror. As they revealed their faces, pitiful squeaks and rattles rose from the three ferragans.
"Clkkk! Not metal!" they wailed in their buzzing voices. "Bad ferragans! Whrrr! Prisoners for thanatars only! Not for ferragans! Scrrr! Must re-forge ferragans! Bad, bad!"
Evidently consumed by remorse at their mistake-and their apparent failure to be good ferragans-the three crablike creatures lurched forward and heaved their rusty iron bodies into the pit of molten metal. They clicked and squealed, pincers waving, as their carapaces began to glow: first red, then orange, then white-hot. Melting, they sank into the pit and were gone. The remaining ferragans kept their distance,