Storm of the Dead - Lisa Smedman [79]
Mazeer? Can you hear me? Are you still there?
Mazeer whirled. Her heart pounded even faster than the staccato clacking in the cavern beyond. Thousands of skulls! What was that voice? It was inside her head. A skull! Thousands of them, pressing in on her from every side. She slapped her palms against her ears, and one hand became sticky with blood. The skulls were consuming her from within!
"Get out!" she shrieked. "Get out of my head!"
Mazeer, it's Qiluй. You called me.
"The skull is stuck!" Mazeer wailed, beating her forehead with her fists. "Stuck inside the chimney. Light a fire. Get it out!"
It's Qiluй, Mazeer, High Priestess of Eilistraee. Listen to me. Let me help you.
"No!" The skulls surrounded her like invisible walls. Mazeer could feel them digging into her back, her arms, her chest. Bones and teeth. Laughing at her. "Stupid girl, getting stuck in a chimney."
Her eyes widened. Had she just said that? Or had it been the voice inside her head? What was that clacking noise?
Like spears, rattling. Spears stabbing her chest, the palm of her hand, the right side of her head. Throbbing. Pain. Her chest was tight. She couldn't breathe. She clawed out a wand, hurled it at the blue-green glow. The fire. It was all around her. Fire and smoke. Making her cough. Too tight, stuck in a chimney…
"Get out. Out of here. Must get…"
She fell backward. Splashing water choked off her scream. She was cold and wet. Sinking. The water hugged her close, extinguishing the fire. Something brushed against her: a sticky net. She remembered it had caught another drow. He was the one trapped. She laughed, and watched languidly as bubbles danced above her face. There was something she should be doing. Oh yes, the bottle. She raised it to her lips and inhaled deeply. Water slid into her lungs, smooth as a wand into a sheath. She didn't notice the coughing, or the hot flare of pain in her chest.
The skull was gone. At last.
She was free.
* * * * *
Cavatina waited impatiently as Khorl cast his spell. A mirror of polished silver hung on one wall, enlarged by magic from a brooch the wizard had unpinned from his piwafwi. Khorl peered into it intently, oblivious to the harsh glare of the reflected Faerzress. The blue glow was painfully bright. Cavatina squinted, yet it still hurt her eyes. Backlit by its glare, Khorl's head and shoulders were a dark silhouette.
"Can you see anything?" she asked. "Mazeer told Qiluй she'd found the way to the Acropolis. She mentioned a fissure in the rock."
"And a skull," Eldrinn added. "You said she mentioned a skull." He stood next to Daffir, fiddling nervously with a vial he held. If the boy wasn't careful, he was going to drop his potion.
Kвras pushed past him. "What about Telmyz? Is there any sign of him?"
"Patience, all of you," Khorl said. His fingers flicked in front of the mirror as if turning pages. "A scrying cannot be rushed."
Gilkriz stood to one side, arms folded and fingers drumming restlessly. One of his wizards had gone missing. Perhaps he'd already accepted the worst. According to Qiluй, Mazeer had been incoherent when her message abruptly cut off. That-and the silence that followed-didn't bode well.
All the other search teams had returned safely, if unsuccessfully. Despite more than a day's worth of searching, none had found the way to the Acropolis.
Khorl's hand dropped. "The mirror reveals nothing." A wave of his hand shrank the polished oval of silver back down to brooch size.
"Conjure up the eyes again," Cavatina ordered. "We need to find Mazeer and Telmyz."
Khorl shook his head firmly. "A second application of that spell will only produce the same result."
Cavatina turned to the human wizard. "Daffir?"
He inclined his head. "I will try, Madam."
As Daffir cast his spell, Cavatina brooded. The message about Mazeer and Telmyz hadn't been the only sending from Qiluй. There had been two other sendings