Realms of Valor - James Lowder [9]
fabulous artifacts. Half-Ear bounced to his feet and paced ahead of them through the doorway. One boldly, the other reluctantly, the halflings followed the wolf under the bone arch. Enough light filtered through gaps in the crude stonework-bonework, Pawldo reminded himself-to light the interior just a little. Before the halflings had advanced two dozen paces, however, the darkness grew heavier and they paused to remove lanterns from their packs. Filling them with oil, touching spark to wick, they soon resumed their exploration under brighter illumination. The entryway was a wide corridor, smoothly paved below their feet- apparently with actual stone, Pawldo saw with a measure of relief. The walls to either side, however, formed an array of eyeless sockets and grinning teeth, for they were built exclusively of skulls. “There are thousands of them,” gasped Stefanik as they came to an intersection and saw three other corridors, each lined with leering skeletal faces. The air was dry and odorless, but each breath seemed to parch the halflings' tongues and throats of moisture. They each gulped a swallow from the waterskin, as much to calm their nerves as quench their thirst. “Which way should we go?” asked Stefanik. A longing glance back to the entrance registered the youngster's vote on that question. “The dagger!” Pawldo hissed. He took the platinum weapon from his belt pouch and held it before each of the three passages. “The Palace of Skulls,” the lord mayor intoned, picturing vast piles of treasure in his mind. He waited for several moments, remembering that the effect had been delayed before. Yet now, perhaps because they were in the palace, it gave them no clue. “We'll have to guess. Let's g6 this way,” Pawldo announced without pause. Pawldo had taken only a half-dozen steps down the hall straight ahead when his lamplight reflected with a telltale gleam from a scattering of metal along the base of one wall. “Gold!” exclaimed the lord mayor, forgetting even to keep his voice down. Eagerly he knelt to investigate, holding the lamp over several dozen gilded coins shining up at him from the floor. “Shouldn't they be dusty?” wondered Stefanik aloud. “No!” Pawldo's voice hissed with delight. “This place is only here for a fortnight, then it disappears! When is there time for dust to collect?” “But....” Stefanik's voice trailed away. The older halfling scooped up the coins and dropped them quickly into his satchel. Their bulk created a satisfying weight in the bottom of the bag. “Come on!” Pawldo urged, picking up the pace. Half-Ear trotted readily beside him, while Stefanik hurried to stay close behind. They passed into a huge, vaulted chamber, where the light from their lanterns created little pools of illumination in a great waste of darkness. Stefanik started across the flat floor, but Pawldo called him back. “Look-niches along the wall. Let's have a look as we go.” He held the lantern up between a pair of arches, lighting an empty space, small and square with a high ceiling supported by arching bones.
“Alcoves . . . maybe this is where Ketheryll's Doomed Legion had their quarters!” whispered Stefanik, awestruck and terrified. “Maybe,” Pawldo said, then added triumphantly, “but they're empty now! There's no haunted guards here, waiting to suck out your soul. So much for the old legends!” “No treasure, either,” the younger halfling countered. “Patience, Sprout. We've barely begun to search.” Pawldo moved on, following the row of nearly identical compartments. He checked the next, and the one after- and in a few moments he was rewarded. “What do you know?” he announced smugly, kneeling down to lift a small statuette, a figure of a crouching lion, from the floor. Like the gold coins, it gleamed as if it had been freshly polished. “Pure silver, with rubies for eyes!” Quickly he popped the object into his satchel, continuing his explorations. Before he had completed his investigation of the room, which took the better part of an hour, a pair of golden earrings,