Masquerades - Kate Novak [105]
Just as the sea serpent's head arched over Olive, the saurial scooped the halfling up in his arms and dashed across the bridge to the other side. The quelzarn snapped its jaws on empty air, squealed with annoyance, and slid back into the water.
Dragonbait set Olive down gently. The halfling was breathing so heavily that Alias was afraid she might pass out before she regained control.
"Why do these things always happen to me?" the halfling moaned. "Why didn't it use magic to hold you in place?"
"Maybe it just wanted a light snack," Alias teased. "It probably noticed your lantern. I went across without one."
"Or you're more resistant to its magic." The enchantment holding Olive dissolved suddenly, and she started like a sleeper in a dream. "Boy, I really hate magic, sometimes. Now I'm all pins and needles," she complained, rubbing her limbs.
They finally got Olive back on her feet again and continued onward. The passageway on this side of the sewer sloped upward, ending in a short staircase. Alias wondered if they might be climbing into the basement of a bunding by the river, but she realized they must be somewhere beneath a hill when they reached the top of the stair and they stood in one more underground cavern carved out of solid bedrock. Magical lanterns bathed the cavern in a bright yellow glow, leaving them no doubt that they had discovered what they'd been seeking.
"Jackpot!" Olive whispered in awe.
Alias nodded in agreement.
The Faceless's treasury made Melman's hoard look like the collection plate at a dead god's church. Great sea chests, closed and locked, were stacked against one wall. A multitude of weapons, from swords and polearms to wands and staves, hung from another. Dozens of open amphoras stood in an alcove, stuffed to overflowing in the southern fashion with jewelry and gems.
On a workbench in the center of the room stood a rack like a tree-with twelve long pegs branching out from its central pole. Hanging from the peg branches were eleven white porcelain masks, each with a different glyph painted over the domino mask markings about the eye sbts. A twelfth branch was empty-no doubt the one that had once held Melman's mask. A large mirror was mounted on the wall to the right of the workbench. To the other side stood two rows of statues. Behind the workbench a fountain pool gushed water in a burbling rhythm.
"I always say there's nothing like the sound of a fountain for relaxing at the end of a hard day's extortion and murder," the halfling joked.
Alias held up a hand to silence the halfling. She thought she saw movement near the statues. She motioned for Dragonbait and Olive to take up positions on either side of the workbench as she moved around it.
The statues were iron, covered with a thin film of oil to ward off rust. They were about twice Alias's height, molded in a humanoid form but with dragon heads. Alias was sure they were some sort of golem-automatons capable of serving as deadly guards. Those constructed of iron often breathed poisonous gas, and Alias found herself holding her breath as she approached them.
She reached out and touched the nearest statue. It was cool and remained immobile. If the statues were iron golems, they did not appear to be activated. They were set in a military formation, two rows deep. It was in the back line where she thought she saw movement.
The warrior woman slid between the two ranks, moving as silently as a cat. She saw a flash of light on metal behind the second rank. Swinging around the line, Alias raised her sword, prepared to skewer whatever skulked back there.
Fortunately, her mind analyzed what she saw before her instincts took over. She recognized the man in fine silk vestments who stood before her gripping with white knuckles a sword held out in an awkward defensive position.
"Victor!" Alias gasped.
Victor Dhostar lowered his sword and held his