Red Magic - Jean Rabe [120]
Outwardly, the wraiths appeared no different, though their hollow voices carried a hint of surprise. "All those gnolls-a mere distraction?"
"A diversion," Galvin agreed. He eased himself to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. He was still weak, and he hoped the wraiths would cooperate, because he didn't have the strength to oppose them now. "Everyone is paying attention to Maligor's gnolls-even the mighty Szass Tam. With everyone preoccupied, Maligor's darkenbeasts are free to strike elsewhere."
"What are his real plans?" the largest wraith howled, as he hovered just beyond the druid. "Where did Maligor go? Szass Tam must know. Tell us."
"I don't know any more. But we're going to find out. I'm going to need your help, though, and at the same time, I'm going to help you. There are several levels below this tower. They should be a good place for you to stay when the daylight comes."
The wraiths protested waiting any longer, but Brenna convinced them that Galvin wasn't able to travel now. In the end, they followed the druid to a section of wall the stones had told the druid about. He pushed against it, and it slid wide, revealing a curving staircase that descended into darkness.
Galvin told the wraiths to seek out the bottommost levels, where the staircase seemed to disappear and an overpowering stench pervaded the air. The creatures could move quickly, could see without light, and didn't seem likely to mind the rotting smell. They seemed to take a perverse glee in the task.
"The first underground level is ours," Galvin told Brenna, steadying himself against the wall. "The stone spoke of great horrors there. Wynter, come with us."
Brenna helped support the weakened druid as they made their way down the series of smooth stone steps. The centaur followed awkwardly. Wynter had difficulty negotiating the stairwell and had to bend his human torso forward to avoid scraping his head on the ceiling. He was comforted when Brenna and Galvin finally left the staircase and entered a wide, high corridor. Here the odor of death and decay wasn't too overpowering. The trio discovered lanterns placed along the walls and lit them to reveal a series of barred cells. The iron bars were thickly encrusted with filth and rust, and the straw that poked between the bars was moldy and crawling with insects.
A ring of keys hung in the center of the corridor, obviously beyond the reach of the cells' inhabitants, but within sight of most of them.
Brenna left Galvin's side and rose to her tiptoes to pull the ring loose. She hurried to the closest cell, then fumbled with the keys until she found the correct one. Throwing the door open, she stepped inside and glanced about. Twisted, tortured bodies hung from manacles. The wounds in their flesh looked deep, but the pain wasn't what had killed them. Their swollen, cracked lips and protruding ribs attested to the fact that they had starved to death. Brenna gasped and proceeded to investigate the cells.
Wynter tried to help her, but he found the cell doors were too small to accommodate his equine frame. Instead, he stood out in the hall and strained to listen.
"All the cells are like this," Brenna announced when she was through, her disgust apparent in her voice. "All the occupants are dead. It's as if Maligor forgot about them and simply let them starve."
"Maybe," Galvin said. The druid was leaning against the door to the farthest cell and peering inside. "Bring the keys over here Brenna."
The enchantress hurried over and quickly unlatched the door. Galvin entered first, then turned and held out his hand to her. Taking it, Brenna climbed down the few steps to the cell floor. This cell was cleaner than the others, but splotches of dried blood covered most of the surface and partially obliterated a map that lay spread out on the floor.
Brenna bent to tug the parchment loose from the floor and