Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [111]
Every so often Lhasha or Fendel would hold up a hand in warning, and they would all stop. The two thieves would confer briefly over the trap that had been discovered. If the snare was simple, such as a trip wire, they would disarm it. With some of the devices they used Fendel's walking stick to set them off from a safe distance. For larger traps, such as hidden pits, they would come back and explain to Corin the proper path to take to avoid the danger.
These were the worst for the warrior. He did his best to follow precisely in the exact footsteps of his smaller companions, carefully avoiding stepping on the areas they had identified as pressure triggers, though he could see no distinguishing features on the uneven floor as he crossed.
At these times-his weight awkwardly balanced, his eyes focused on his feet, everything about him vulnerable-Corin could feel the unseen eyes surrounding them move in closer, waiting eagerly for the single misstep that would set off the trap and give the hidden predators their chance to strike. Corin was careful to insure that chance never came.
But Tymora cares little for care or caution.
"There's another trap just ahead," Lhasha explained to her burly friend after yet another lengthy consultation with Fendel. "A real nasty one. A crusher, Fendel thinks. We're pretty sure we've got it figured out, though. Fendel's going first. Once he gets safely to the other side, hell give us the all clear and I'll lead you across. Until then, we'll wait here. That way, if anything happens to Fendel…" She couldn't finish.
Corin nodded to show he understood, though the name "crusher" meant nothing to him, other than conjuring up a series of gruesome mental images of mangled limbs and bodies. The warrior sheathed the sword in his left hand so he could hold the glowing staff Fendel offered him.
"Hang on to this for a minute. I won't need it, and I don't want to leave you here in the dark while I go across."
"Good luck," Corin whispered.
The gnome soon disappeared into the shadows, vanishing as soon as he was beyond the range of the glowing pole. "Is he all right?" Corin asked anxiously after several seconds of agonizing silence.
With the advantage of her heat-sensitive vision, Lhasha could still see Fendel's form in the blackness. "He's just taking his time. He wants to be sure he doesn't hit a trigger. Even one wrong step could be fatal."
They could do nothing but stand and wait. Corin didn't know which was worse: the helpless feeling of sitting idly by while the gnome risked bis life to find them a safe route, or the anticipatory dread that came with the knowledge that he, too, would have to cross the trapped area.
A sharp whistle from the blackness signaled that it was time for Lhasha and Corin to cross.
"All right, follow me," Lhasha urged. "Stay close-step only where I step. Exactly where I step."
The instructions were the same at every trap they had crossed so far, yet for some reason Lhasha's voice seemed more urgent this time. The pit of Corin's stomach rumbled ominously.
The warrior's fate was in Lhasha's hands now. Or rather, her feet and her eyes. Corin simply had to trust that the half-elf had watched and memorized every careful step Fendel had taken through the trigger area, and he had to assume Lhasha could duplicate that path without error.
Only several months ago, putting his own life so completely into someone else's care would have been unthinkable. If there was anyone he was willing to trust, it was Lhasha.
Ahead of him, the half-elf paused momentarily, uncertain of her next move. Corin glanced back over his shoulder, his attention drawn by the sound of something rushing at them out of the darkness. He didn't dare move his boots from their spot, but he did pivot on the balls of his feet