Song of the Saurials - Kate Novak [67]
"So far, so good," she whispered, picking up her torch and pack and slipping through the gap. She pushed the gate nearly, but not quite, closed. Then she tiptoed down the corridor.
When she reached the gap in the wall that led to the tunnel the orcs had come from, Olive dashed across the open space, then pressed herself against the wall on the other side and waited a minute.
She listened carefully, but she heard neither voices nor footfalls. Finder must have been right about the orcs relying on their alarm, she thought as she crept down to the second iron grate.
The second lock was a masterful piece of workmanship, of fairly recent design.
It definitely was not the kind she'd expect to see in an orc warren. The orcs' friend who possessed the disintegrate spell must have installed it, Olive decided. After setting her pack down again and disengaging the alarm, the halfling examined the other mechanisms with more care.
The needle trap was especially nasty. It refilled and retriggered itself automatically. Olive pulled out an especially long pick. Holding it awkwardly from a position above the lock, with her hand safely out of the way, she twisted it in the keyhole and watched the trap spring. It was a very long, very sharp needle. Olive sprang it several more times, but the reserve of poison didn't show any signs of running low. Judging from its effect on Finder, Olive suspected it was too potent a poison to risk receiving even a trace dose.
Olive turned and looked behind her, just to be sure there weren't any orcs watching her work. Assured that she was still alone in the hallway, she wedged her torch in the iron grate and turned her attention back to the trap.
She drew out Finder's dagger. It was heavy, just right for bending needles. It took her three tries, but she managed to bring the blade down on the needle after it sprang out and before it retracted. It bent, but the force of the spring connected to it pulled it back into the mechanism. Once inside the retriggering box, however, the needle was jammed tight and couldn't spring out again. Olive sniffed once with pride, then spat on Finder's blade a few times and wiped it off on her cloak so as not to risk leaving any poison on it.
After checking over her shoulder once again for any stray ores, she began work on the lock. It was a heavy one, and she broke two wire picks in it. She wondered momentarily whether it had been welded shut. She began to examine miscellaneous keys from her key collection. When she thought she had a near match, she wriggled both it and another wire about in the hole. She tried to put Finder's poisoned hand out of her mind. She couldn't allow anything to distract her.
Olive had no idea how long she'd been fiddling with the gate, but when the lock finally gave way, her torch was burnt to a nub. When she pushed on the gate, the burning stick fell to the ground. The flame immediately went out, leaving only glowing cinders at her feet.
The halfling picked up her pack and pushed the door open farther, not bothering to oil the hinges. They didn't squeak, suggesting that the door was probably used often. Olive tried to put that idea out of her mind. If the only key was Finder's unfinished melody, there wasn't an orc in the world who could open the door. She'd heard orcs singing several times, and she had been anything but impressed.
Olive ran her hand along the polished steel door. There was no handle or lock.
"Listen up, door," she whispered. She sang the lyrics to the melody Finder had taught her as softly as she could. Something in the door made a clicking noise.
Olive pushed on the door gently, and it swung open. Bright light flooded into the corridor from the workshop within. Olive slipped into the room and pushed the door closed behind her. It clicked again. She was locked safely inside. The halfling sighed with relief and leaned back against the door.
"Hello, Father," a voice said from inside the workshop.
Olive stood bolt upright. A figure