Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [83]
Through the rain, they saw the outline of huge wings. The wings disappeared as the strange creature approached, and a copper-skinned elf stepped out of the murk, dressed in animal leathers. Short and slender even for an elf, his dark hair was matted and unkempt. His red-streaked hazel eyes darted back and forth before settling on Ardeth.
"Ardeth of Llorkh?" he asked, barely audible over the raging winds outside. His voice was high-pitched and raspy, decidedly not like any elf any of them had encountered before.
"Yes," Ardeth answered cautiously.
"I smelled your scent on the wind. I am here on behalf of the Mayor of Llorkh."
"Thank the gods," Royce gasped. "I didn't suspect Geildarr would have contact with the wood elves."
The elf let out a disgusted grunt as his answer.
"You're a werebat," Ardeth said. "From Heskret's tribe. Geildarr told me there was a chance he could recruit aid from your folk." There was no relief in her voice, only suspicion, and she kept her eyes locked on his face, scanning for any insincerity.
"My name is Halzoon," the elf said, looking at the group, his neck twitching. "I am to offer myself as your guide."
"No deva, but a winged savior nonetheless," said Gunton.
"Where are you guiding us?" asked Ardeth.
"Three great phandar trees in a triangle, alongside the Heartblood River. That is what you seek."
"How do you know this?" asked Royce.
"Heskret extracted it-" he drooled and chuckled, "-from an Uthgardt shaman."
"You know the best way to the Sanctuary?" asked Royce. "These passes are difficult to navigate."
"Forget the passes," the werebat hissed. "Forget them! I know a better way."
"We don't have wings," huffed Gan.
"Not above the mountains, goblinoid. Below them."
"There are tunnels?" asked Royce.
"Yes," Halzoon said, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder. "Many tunnels, all through the mountains. Dwarves built them long ago. Harpies made their nests there. But not any more."
"How do we get in?" asked Gunton. "It'd be a far better option than waiting here for Elaacrimalicros to eat us."
Halzoon pointed upward. "An entrance farther up the mountain. Winds are terrible up there, but with care, you should make it."
"Thanks be to all the gods," Royce said. "I'd hug you if you didn't stink of guano."
The elf werebat chuckled at Royce's joke. "I will lead you," he said. "Heskret commands it."
"What was his name?" Ardeth demanded.
"Whose name?" asked Halzoon.
"The barbarian shaman you captured," she said. "What was his name?"
"His name was Keirkrad." A cruel smile crossed his face and he let out a high-pitched cackle. "We were lucky to get that one. Heskret was pleased. He had some unfinished business with that one."
"Keirkrad," she repeated. The answered satisfied her, and she lowered her crossbow.
* * * * *
The ingress on the mountain that Halzoon described was higher and more remote than anyone expected. Ardeth and her companions summoned every scrap of will and endurance to climb through the driving rain and the roaring wind to reach shelter again. They found a knee-high drop onto an enclosed platform, its base full of water, and a stone passageway leading into the mountain.
"Fascinating," said Gunton when they ducked into the dry passage. "A landing platform. The dwarves who lived here must have used flying mounts, just as they do in the Great Rift."
Ardeth lit a torch, and by its light they could see the fine stonework of the passageway. Dethek letters were inscribed in the wall and from them, Gunton translated the name of the place: Onthrilaenthor.
"Ancient mines," said Royce. "Built by dwarves, but with a clearly elf name. Most curious. How far is our destination?" he asked Halzoon.
"Two, three days," the werebat said. "I don't know why you want to go there. I know the place, and there's nothing to say about it."
"We have a key," said Gan,