Guild Wars_ Ghosts of Ascalon - Matt Forbeck [65]
She shoved him backward into the muck.
Dougal windmilled his arms to try to keep his balance, but failed. At the last moment he stopped fighting it and jumped in feetfirst instead, figuring that a controlled fall would be best. As he pierced the stream’s surface, he had no idea how deep it might be, so he held his breath.
He blew it out right away once he realized that the sewage only came up to about his waist. When he realized it was so cold, he was surprised it hadn’t frozen him instantly. He yowled in surprise, and his complaint rattled down the tunnels in every direction.
“You deserved that!” Riona said, still fuming.
Dougal pointed at Ember. “She needed out of those chains.”
“And you could think of us as being outside the city, if you want,” suggested Killeen.
Riona looked as if she were going to shout, then spun around and pushed Kranxx down the tunnel before her. Killeen followed along the thin ledge. Ember and Gullik stepped down into the stream. They groused at the stench and the cold, but the sewage didn’t come up nearly as high on them as it did on Dougal.
Ember lifted Dougal out of the stream and set him down on the ledge. They nodded their gratitude to each other without a word. Dougal turned to scramble after Riona, and the charr and the norn waded right after him through the muck.
“In a group like this, such troubles are fated,” Gullik said when they were all together again. “I’ve seen it happen before. Our differences are too great. Sooner or later we turn on each other.”
“Riona and Ember are crusaders for the Vigil,” Dougal said. “Despite their cultures, they should be able to work together.” He sighed. “And remember, Riona and I are both come from Ebonhawke.”
“I spoke not of cultures but of differences,” said Gullik. “Between you two I sense a gulf the size of the sea.”
Dougal glanced back at the grinning norn and couldn’t help cracking a smile himself. “Gullik, my friend, you are wiser than you look.”
“That’s an exceedingly low threshold,” Kranxx said from the head of the procession.
They walked in silence after that, following the tunnel through a series of switchbacks that brought them lower and lower through the side of the mountain. The muck got thicker and deeper, and the smell—if possible—got worse as they went.
Dougal tried not to think about how far they’d gone or how much farther they might have to go. He just focused his vision on the glowing rock hanging from the pole on Kranxx’s back, and trudged on. Every now and then, he saw another tunnel head up and away from the sewer. Some of these were clean and dry, while others added their own small tributaries of filth to the mainstream.
When Kranxx reached a large intersection where a dry tunnel sloped down to where they were, he signaled to stop, and the others gathered closer behind him. Riona put her lantern down on the floor.
“We should rest,” the old asura said. “This is the last place for a break before we reach the end of the line, and it’s a bit of a haul from here to there.”
As the words left Kranxx’s lips, a line of torches burst into flame up the dry tunnel. Dougal put up an arm to shade his eyes against the light and gaped at the squad of Ebon Vanguard forming a solid phalanx in that tunnel. Two of the guards they’d run into at the asura gate stood at the head of the ranks.
The male officer, Lieutenant Stafford, raised his blade and shouted, “This is the end of the line for you! Cast down your weapons and surrender—now!”
“Hang on,” Dougal said. “We can explain.” Already he was trying to concoct a half-believable story that would buy enough time for the others to plan a break. He knew that there was little chance anyone would stop to listen to him, but he had to try.
‘Lieutenant!” said one of the Vanguard. “The charr is free! And it has weapons!”
“Fire at will!” shouted the officer, wide-eyed and red-faced. “Then close to melee! Leave no survivors!”
The guardsmen in the front of the phalanx dropped to one knee, revealing a second line behind them with muskets