Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [97]
"That gate would have worked for some of us, wouldn't it? Don't lie to me anymore, Beckla," he hissed, baring his pointed teeth in a feral snarl. "I know now that you already have. Your hair gives you away. When we first met, you told me that you had lived in Undermountain for over a year. And your clothes look it. But your hair is short, as if it had been recently cut. Don't try to tell me that you did such a fine job with the edge of your dagger."
Beckla did not deny his words. Instead, she braced her shoulders, gazing at him, deep remorse in her brown eyes.
"Damn it, Beckla!" Artek snarled. "Tell me what in the Abyss is going on here!"
The wizard took a deep breath.
"I've betrayed you," she said.
13
Horned Ring
Crimson rage surged in Artek's head, and blood pounded in his ears. His orcish side howled in silent fury at the utterance of the cursed word-betrayed. He gripped the edge of the onyx table, knuckles white, teeth clenched. He could not let go. He did not dare. There was no telling what violence his hands would commit if he did. He glared at Beckla with smoldering black eyes.
"Tell me," he commanded hoarsely.
They were the only words he could manage. The others stared at Beckla in astonishment, trying to comprehend what was happening. At last, the wizard nodded. Pain burned in her brown eyes, but her shoulders were straight, her too-square jaw resolute.
"I'll explain everything," she said solemnly. "I know now that I can't lie to you anymore. Though once I tell the truth, I imagine that you'll most likely decide to kill me. Not that I could blame you. There's only one thing that I ask. Just let me finish before you… deal with me. I think you owe me that much."
"No promises," Artek hissed. His arms trembled. He wished to let go of the stone and crush a living throat instead. "Just talk."
Beckla sighed. "As you wish," she said simply. "Not everything I told you was a lie." She shook her head ruefully. "Some of it was all too true. I am indeed a small-time wizard. I've been kicked out of more mage schools than I can count, usually for lack of money." A sardonic smile twisted her lips. "Though once or twice it was for telling the master mage just where he could stuff his wand. In case you hadn't noticed, I can be a little abrasive at times."
"Oh, I hadn't noticed, really," Guss murmured politely.
Beckla winked at the gargoyle in gratitude. Then her expression grew grim.
"All right, here's the part you don't know," the wizard said, crossing her arms across her grubby shirt as she paced before the table. "It wasn't by chance that I happened upon you in the upper halls of Undermountain, Artek. But it really was blind luck that I was there in time to help you with those flying snakes. The truth is, I haven't spent the last year in Undermountain. I came in by a private entrance no more than two hours before you entered the maze yourself. Before that, I had been informed of Corin's whereabouts. You see, it was my job all along to lead you to the lost lord-that's what I was hired to do."
"Hired?" Artek asked. "Hired by whom?"
Beckla paused and then spoke without emotion. "Lord Darien Thal."
An animalistic snarl ripped itself from deep in Artek's throat. Somehow he had known he was going to hear that foul name again. He let go of the table, bearing down on Beckla. Only by great effort did he keep his shaking hands at his sides. The others looked on, mouths agape.
"So what did he offer you?" Artek hissed. "A tower of your own? The finest tutors of magic? Money to purchase all you needed to research your precious spells? Was that it, wizard? Did he offer to buy your dreams for you?"
"Yes," Beckla whispered. She gazed, not at Artek, but into space, as if she could see a vision of all she had ever desired floating before her. "He promised to make me a great wizard, a mage of renown. All I had to do was lead you to Corin. Then you would