Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [84]
These words seemed to excite the mechanicals. The thanatars emitted high-pitched whistles, clacking their claws. The silversanns hissed sibilantly, feelers whipping back and forth. Artek watched in growing alarm, wondering if he had angered them.
"SQUCH!" the thanatars uttered. They seemed to nod their small steel heads. "SQUCH! TELL!"
The silversanns rippled their sleek bodies. "Yesss. Asssk mussst we Sssquch, yesss. Tell usss will Sssquch what to do ssshould we. Yesss, yesss."
Three thanatars picked up Beckla, Corin, and Guss, holding them securely-but not ungently-in their clawed appendages. Another thanatar moved toward Artek, and he suppressed the instinct to run as it reached out and lifted him off the floor. The ferragans clicked submissively, scuttling out of the way as the thanatars marched toward the opening through which they had entered. Antennae waving, the silversanns slithered behind.
"It's good to see you, Ar'talen," Beckla said, her face drawn with fear. "But I sure hope you know what you're doing."
Artek did not answer. He hoped he did as well. Either way, it was a gamble. But if anyone knew how to contact Trobriand, it would probably be the leader of these creatures. And that was Squch.
The thanatars carried them through a winding labyrinth of rough-walled tunnels and irregular chambers. Here and there, thin veins of silvery metal marbled the stone walls. Artek guessed that this place had been a mine once, perhaps constructed by the same dwarves-the Melairkyn clan-who had built the vast city of Underhall eons ago. Artek shuddered. They must be far below Waterdeep indeed. Yet, remembering Muragh's words, he hardened his will. He would not give up-at least, not until the very end.
At last they passed through a rough archway into a large natural cavern. Here the stone walls were riddled with serpentine veins of silver metal. Lanterns like those that were attached to the heads of the ferragans lined the perimeter of the cavern. Their light was reflected and somehow amplified by the thin veins of metal, filling the air with a dazzling silver glow. It was breathtaking.
The thanatars came to a halt in the center of the cavern, the silversanns just behind. Opening their claws, the steely creatures dropped their burdens. The three humans, the gargoyle, and the skull dropped to the floor with various exclamations of discomfort and indignation. Before them was a shadowed hole in the floor that filled Artek with a sense of dread. Behind them, the thanatars and silversanns formed a half-circle, falling into an expectant silence.
Without warning, two red-hot pinpricks appeared in the dark circle of the hole. A shadow stirred within, and an eerie rattling emanated from the depths. Then, with menacing speed, something climbed out.
It was silver-as silver as the brilliant metal that snaked through the walls of the cavern. It was not unlike the thanatars, yet it was smaller, sleeker. And, Artek sensed, it was far more deadly. Its two clawed appendages were slender, even delicate, but gleamed sharply like polished knives. Six legs supported its shiny, multiplated abdomen. An armored tail curled up and over its back, ending in a cruelly barbed point. It was a scorpion, a gigantic silver scorpion.
The thanatars lowered their claws and the silversanns drooped their antennae in gestures of submission. "SQUCH!" they spoke in reverence. "Sssquch, yesss. Sssquch!"
"What have you brought me?" Squch demanded, pincer mouth moving. Unlike that of the others, the scorpion's speech was surprisingly intelligible, though clearly inhuman.
"PRISONERS!" the thanatars intoned.
"Ssspecimens are they, yesss?" the silversanns contradicted.
"I will be the judge of that," Squch snapped.
Legs moving swiftly, the metallic scorpion scrambled forward. Artek reached out his arms, keeping the others from trying to get up and run.
"Yes, you are wise, soft one," Squch said with a weird rattling that was almost like laughter. "I am a scaladar. To flee from me is a grave error." The scaladar lowered