Song of the Saurials - Kate Novak [70]
*****
After Olive had cried herself out, she stared for a while at the wall of the brightly lit workshop, blinking like an owl in day light. Part of her kept telling her to hurry back to Finder. If she couldn't get him to the road, she could at least be with him when he died. Another part of her didn't want to watch him die. That part must have been stronger, because she didn't move until something heavy thumped against the door.
Olive started and nearly tumbled from the bench. She padded over to the enchanted steel door and pressed her ear against it. From the hallway on the other side came harsh, unintelligible cries. The orcs had returned and discovered the unlocked gate, Olive realized.
Fortunately there was a second door out of the workshop, but if she used it, she'd have to find her way through strange tunnels and dig her way through Tymora knew how many more cave-ins. Then it occurred to Olive that the other door might also lead to a T-trap guarded by orcs. The thought paralyzed her with fear.
From near the door, she heard another cry-an unmistakably haughty voice demanding the orcs back away.
"Finder?" Olive whispered to herself, confused by the bard's presence. Why hadn't he stayed put?
From the hallway, Finder shouted, "You have no business here. This is my home.
Leave now or face the consequences."
Has he gone mad? the halfling wondered. There was a slurred sound to his speech and a tremor in his deep voice. That's just great. He's delirious, she thought wearily.
The orcs in the tunnel outside shouted and screamed. There was another thump at the door, like a spear or a crossbow hitting against it. Then suddenly there was silence. A new voice, sharp and high-pitched, spoke in the common tongue.
"Release him," the voice ordered calmly, in the manner of a being accustomed to being obeyed. Olive couldn't tell if it was male or female.
Someone else was out there, someone who ordered orcs around. Someone, Olive suspected, who had the power to disintegrate ceilings and other things.
"Don't try anything foolish. I can kill you in an instant. You are the Nameless Bard?" the voice asked.
"Yes," Finder replied with a croaking sound in his voice.
Olive bit her lip, wondering what she could do to rescue her friend.
"I'm pleased you returned," the sharp voice said. "I was sorry to have missed you the first time. The orcs were sure you'd fled for good. It seems that I came to investigate this tunnel in the nick of time. Now that you've gone to all the trouble to pick the lock on the gates, you might as well open the door to your workshop for me," the voice demanded.
"Why should I?" Finder replied. His tone was haughty, but Olive could hear him wheezing even through the workshop door.
"Because if you don't, these orcs will kill you," the voice explained.
"I'm already dying," Finder said. "I was caught by the poison needle trap in this gate."
"Show me," the sharp voice ordered.
There was a short silence, then the sharp voice said, "My, my. How inconvenient for you, nameless one. You can hardly play an instrument with that hand. Corx, the antidote!"
"He's not dying yet," an orc replied in common. "Let him open the door first."
"I need this hand to open the door," Finder lied.
"Corx, obey me!" the sharp voice insisted.
There was the sound of grumbling among the orcs, and a moment later. Olive heard Finder say, "A good year for antidotes. A youthful bouquet, fruity and light."
His voice still sounded weak.
"My name is Xaran," the sharp voice announced, "and I have just saved your life.
I think that deserves some consideration, don't you?"
"Consideration, certainly," Finder replied, "but not license to loot my workshop."
"I can still kill you without blinking an eye," Xaran pointed out.
"But then you'll never get into my workshop," Finder replied. "you've gone to such trouble to set up a trap to capture me before I got inside. What is