Escape from Undermountain - Mark Anthony [99]
A rough-hewn corridor stretched into shadow in either direction. Pale fungus clung to the walls, and dark water trickled across the floor.
Artek swore vehemently.
"I don't understand," Beckla said in confusion. "The ring was supposed to take us to the surface, but this still looks like-"
"Undermountain," Artek spat, finishing for her. He shook his head and almost laughed. Almost, but his chest was too tight with the bitter irony of it all. What fools they were! "Don't you see, Beckla? Haven't you figured it out yet? He's betrayed you, too."
The wizard's face blanched. Then anger ignited in her eyes. She spoke a single, hateful word, as if it were a curse: "Thal."
Artek nodded grimly. "It makes sense. He couldn't have allowed you to live-you knew that he had arranged Corin's demise. So, he made certain that you would never escape from Undermountain either."
A great heaviness came upon Artek, weighing him down. "Well, it looks as if Darien has beaten us to our little surprise. He has defeated us after all. But I suppose it was well that we tried." He glanced at his tattoo-less than an hour left. At least he would not have long to wait for his end to come. The others would not be so lucky. It was hard to believe now that the legacy of the Garug-Mal truly ran in his blood, because the darkness held no comfort. It was cold, and bleak, and utterly empty.
"Wait just a second," Muragh piped up suddenly. "Guss, pick me up. Beckla, hold up your hand. I need to take a look at that ring of yours."
The others regarded Muragh in vague curiosity, but they did as he instructed. The skull peered at the ring with his empty eye sockets.
"Hmm," he muttered through his broken teeth. "I was afraid of that," the skull pronounced finally.
"Afraid of what?" Artek asked, not certain he had the energy to play the skull's guessing games anymore.
"This is a Horned Ring," Muragh replied. "Not a common find in Undermountain, but not so rare either. Halaster made quite a few of them."
"Wait a minute," Artek protested. "You mean Halaster himself made this thing?"
Somehow the fleshless skull managed to look annoyed. "Granted, I don't have lips, so sometimes I tend to mumble, but I'm pretty certain that's what I said."
Beckla studied the ring with new interest. "If it won't take us out of Undermountain, what will it do?"
"Take us down," Muragh replied. "A Horned Ring will gate you anywhere you want to go in Undermountain, as long as it's below where you are at the moment. With every jump, it takes its wearer deeper."
Artek looked at the skull in sudden shock. "What did you say?" he demanded hoarsely.
"Really, Artek," the skull grumbled. "Why don't you clean the orc cheese out of your ears? I'm getting awfully tired of repeating myself."
But Artek was no longer paying attention to the skull. He paced quickly over the damp stone floor, his mind working feverishly.
"Of course!" he exclaimed, smacking his forehead with his hand. "That's the answer!"
"The answer to what?" Beckla asked.
"Halaster's riddle," he replied in growing excitement. "Remember? 'The deeper you go, the deeper I get. If you jump sideways, you may find me yet.' "
"I think maybe you've jumped a little too deep yourself," Muragh noted acerbically.
Artek ignored him. "Don't you see, Beckla? You said it yourself, back when you were explaining to me the difference between teleporting and using a gate. Teleportation is a fast but direct journey between places." He brought his hands together. "But using a gate is like jumping-"
"Sideways," Beckla breathed.
Artek snapped his fingers. "Exactly! That's the key to finding Halaster. If every use of the Horned Ring takes you deeper, eventually you would have to reach the deepest part of Undermountain. And where else would the Mad Wizard be except at the very bottom of his own maze?"
"Do you think we really dare disturb Halaster himself?" Corin asked, a startled expression