Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [118]
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Xanther sneered silently at the two dale youths who stood guard. They were barely old enough to hold their spears properly and did not see him where he stood in the dimness of the passage. The Zhentarim slipped behind the concealment of a shadow cast by a bulge in the rough stone wall, and did something.
The two young guards heard the slight noise that the secret door made as it swung open and then instantly shut again, but by the time they reached the shadow, there was nothing to be seen but an empty stone passage. They hunted around for a bit-there had been a noise, both agreed-and looked warily upward. When they thankfully saw nothing waiting to fall on them, they shrugged and went away.
By then, Xanther had slain Stormcloak's old, stupid watchspider with the heavy stone block he'd thoughtfully procured earlier, and taken the scrolls he knew it guarded. Their capped tubes rattled, and he shook a large gem out of one with great satisfaction. The other yielded a fine chain linking three plain brass finger rings, and a dagger whose quillons were a pair of batlike, furry folded wings, dusty gray and looking very much alive. He was careful not to touch it bare-handed and so activate it.
Xanther packed all this revealed magical treasure back into the tubes that had held it. Then he hurried on, descending through dark, secret passages scarcely wider than his own hips, heading for the cellars. Heading toward the dark, waiting cesspool where he knew Elminster of Shadowdale and the wench Sharantyr would come… to meet their deaths.
For the greater glory of the Brotherhood. Xanther smiled a smile that held no humor and slipped on through the darkness.
* * * * *
"The gate lies just here," Elminster said, pointing in the fetid darkness.
"Without light, I can't see a thing," Sharantyr said crossly, "but from the smell, I can tell that we're very near the edge of the pool. Watch where you step."
Elminster felt for her hand, seized it in his own, and squeezed reassuringly. "That's the beauty of it, d'ye see? Kneel down here, beside me, and feel."
His hand led hers to trace cold stone. The stink around them was indescribable. Elminster continued an unconcerned lecture. "One enters the gate by stepping out over the pool, off the edge as if one were stepping right into it. One has to start here, though, just between these two raised stones, or the step forward is into empty air and ends as a fast plunge into the muck."
Sharantyr let him guide her hand to two stony knobs. "Do you mean we're kneeling right on the edge of it now?"
"Aye. An exposed position, indeed," Elminster replied. "Let us up and proceed, without further delay. Hold tight to my hand."
"Old Mage," Sharantyr said calmly, "I'm doing so. I've got a very good grip on you, in fact, and I'll yank you beard-over-ankles into this cesspool right now if you don't tell me just where this gate you're so eager to use will take us, before we step so boldly through it!"
Elminster sighed. "Ye want all the Zhentarim in this place-and those who serve Sembia, Cormyr, the Red Wizards of Thay, and the Cult of the Dragon, besides-to find us here, don't ye? I may know a few tricks and carry a few magic trinkets, but if ye'd see my skin stay whole and my thousand-odd years stretch to a few more, ye'd not force me to fight off every eager hedge-wizard and sharpknife in this dale!" He turned and glared at her as he spoke. The lady ranger felt the burning weight of his unseen eyes on her in the darkness.
"Old Mage," Sharantyr said firmly, "just tell and we can be on our way, provided it's not to a certain plane of fire and evil, or the center of the Grand Hall in Darkhold, or another such lunatic destination. I'd like to know what I'll have to fight before I get wherever we're going."
Elminster tried to pull away. Her grip shook with weariness but held him like iron as she added, "And since you threatened me with all those names, suppose you also tell me