Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [29]
Jarial approached, carrying Ozama’s cloak. “I thought Ghleanna could use this,” he said.
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” Kestrel glanced at the woman rendered so vulnerable by the same magic she herself wielded. Corran still had a lot of healing to do. She turned back to Jarial and gestured toward Preybelish’s treasure. “Let’s leave them in peace and find that Wizard’s Torc.”
He regarded the naga’s hoard reluctantly. “It doesn’t seem important anymore. Certainly not worth the lives it cost-and almost cost.” His lips formed a rueful smile. “Sixteen years trapped in a boulder has a tendency to alter one’s perspective.”
Kestrel could scarcely believe her ears. After all he’d been through, how could he not want the prize? “You’re right-your lady did sacrifice her life in pursuit of the torc. Don’t you think you owe it to her to retrieve it now that you have the opportunity?” Besides, it sounded valuable-if he didn’t take it, she would.
A spark of interest returned to his eyes. “I suppose we should at least see if it’s here.”
By the time they emerged from the naga’s lair with the magical necklace in hand, Ghleanna was up and around. Corran had done as much healing as was in his power, and one of the remaining blueglow moss potions had done the rest. Both she and the paladin appeared drained, however. The group elected to sleep a while in the relative safety of Preybelish’s den, gnawing hungrily on dried provisions and taking turns keeping watch.
Their strength restored, they left the complex and returned to the maze of corridors. Eventually, they came upon a stairway leading up.
“Finally,” Kestrel muttered. “I was beginning to think we’d never get out of this place.”
“Don’t start looking for the sun yet,” Jarial said. “There are two dungeon levels built into the hill, so we have another stairway to locate after this one.”
At least they were moving in the right direction. Kestrel nearly sprinted up the steps in her eagerness to make more progress exiting these tomblike corridors. She slowed, however, at the top of the stairs.
Light spilled out of a room about thirty yards down the passage. A grid of shadows on the floor revealed it was a prison cell with a door of wrought-iron bars. From within, a harsh male voice bellowed questions at someone whose replies Kestrel couldn’t hear.
“Just give up the damn word, you cretin! We’ll learn it eventually anyway!” The smack of someone being struck echoed off the stone walls. “Tell me what you know or I’ll feed you to my master for supper.”
The explorers exchanged glances. “Someone should sneak ahead and see what’s going on,” Corran said. Kestrel sighed. Given everyone else’s skills at stealth, no doubt “someone” meant her.
She left the group hidden from sight in the stairwell and crept along the passage, keeping to the shadows as she neared the barred doorway. Though she moved silently, the interrogator spoke loudly enough that even Durwyn could have approached unheard.
Inside, a warrior sat on the floor. He was a sturdy young man, no older than twenty, dressed in brown leather armor. His wrists and ankles were bound to one wall with chains. Six skeletons, armed with short swords as those downstairs had been, stood at attention on one side of the cell. It was the room’s other occupant who made Kestrel suck in her breath.
A masked figure circled the prisoner. Though a red leather hood covered the interrogator’s head and shoulders, holes revealed his eyes, mouth, and jaw. The hard cast of these features matched his voice. What Kestrel could see of his face was so devoid of kindness or any other humane emotion that it might as well have been carved from stone. He wore little other clothing: a loincloth, boots, and one bracer-all made of red leather that matched the hood-a wide studded steel belt, and a circular medallion on a neckchain. His athletic body, particularly his upper legs, bore menacing green tattoos in a weblike design.
The figure’s most striking feature of all was his right hand-or lack thereof. In place of a normal human