Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [61]
Listle stood on tiptoe to study the rune. "It's not one I recognize, but I don't think it's a warning rune of any sort."
Sirana said nothing. Evidently, she agreed.
"Well, if it doesn't portend danger, I suppose there's no harm in passing through," Kern decided. He stepped into the shadowed portal, disappearing from view. Sirana followed, as did Miltiades. Listle was the last to walk through the doorway.
On the other side, the elf found herself at the end of a long, stone-walled walkway. The others were nowhere to be seen. She whirled around in surprise, only to discover that the portal had vanished. She was alone. She tried scaling the wall, but quickly ascertained that its surface was as slippery as glass.
"Kern!" she called out as loud as she could. "Miltiades!"
"Listle?" she heard a faint reply borne by the wind. It was Kern's voice. "Where is everybody? I seem to be alone in some sort of maze."
Maze? Suddenly Listle thought she understood what had happened. "It must have been a magical portal, Kern!" she shouted over the high wall. "I think it transported each of us to a different section of the maze."
Kern shouted something in reply, but the words were muffled by the wind. She shouted again, but this time there was no answer. She could only hope that Kern had heard her, and that the others had come to the same realization. There was nothing to do now but to try to find her way out of the maze. Despite her predicament, Listle had to grin. She loved mazes.
She padded lightly down the walkway. It quickly branched, then branched again. She came up against a dead end and turned to retrace her steps. A turn left. Two right. A dead end. Left. Twice right. Dead end. She hummed as she went, sensing the maze's pattern. No, this wasn't going to be difficult at all. She only hoped the others would fare as well.
Abruptly the path she followed widened into a small, roofless room, obviously still in the process of rebuilding itself. Even as she watched, two stones atop one of the walls shifted of their own volition, closing a small chink.
Iron-banded trunks lay half-buried in the ground. Suits of rusted armor hung from the walls. And in the center of the chamber was a table laden with gold coins, strands of pearls, and brilliant gems. Listle eyed the table skeptically, tapping her chin with a finger.
"A king's ransom lying in plain view. Hmm, I don't suppose there's a magical enchantment guarding that."
She cast a quick spell. Sure enough, she sensed enough magical energy surrounding the table to fry an elephant. A fine trap for any greedy thief who might happen along.
"Good thing I'm not that greedy." Listle laughed. She searched the room until she found an innocuous wooden chest lurking in a shadowed corner. It was the least interesting-looking thing in the room-which was precisely why it was the most interesting to Listle. She knew that the best way to hide something important was to make it look as if it wasn't important at all.
No magic guarded the small chest. It wasn't even locked. Listle threw back the lid.
"Now this," she said to herself gleefully, "is the real treasure."
She gathered several objects from the chest and stuffed them into her pack. Without so much as a backward glance at the treasure-strewn table, she left the chamber.
A dozen twists and turns later, she stepped through another portal, leaving the maze behind.
She found herself standing in front of the massive, headless statue of a wizard. The meeting place.
"Well," she said, "it looks as if I'm the first one here."
Feeling quite pleased with herself, she sat down to wait.
* * * * *
"Ah, Father, what power you must have had," Sirana exclaimed exultantly. She strolled around the circular room that had been the Red Wizard Marcus's spellcasting chamber. Arcane sigils covered the basaltic floor and walls. Bloodred sunlight streamed in through the high, narrow windows. The chamber showed no sign of decay or ruin. It was from here that the restorative