The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [55]
Surprisingly wise, Steel said. But what about your guardian ogre, who’s waiting just down the hall to take you back to the party?
“As to that,” Thorn said, “I thought I’d get help from a little friend.”
Thorn slipped out of her room. Her clothing wasn’t quite as useless as it appeared—while her boots were fashionably high and pointed, they retained their sound-dampening enchantments, and her heels made no sound when they struck the stone. An ogre waited just down the hall; her chaperone, ready to escort her wherever she might need to go. As she’d hoped, he had his back to her. There was only one way out from the Brelish quarters, and he was expecting people to come from the other direction. He made no move as she crept soundlessly across the hall.
The room she entered was even smaller than her cell, and Thorn winced as the bitter stench washed over her. A warped wooden board sat atop a stone shelf, two holes carved in the plank. A stranger might have guessed that the smaller one was for children, but Thorn knew it was made for goblins.
The privy, Steel said. Well, I suppose it’s wise to empty your bowels before engaging in a dangerous task. Is that what they teach at the Citadel these days?
Thorn said nothing. Now that they were out in the open, she couldn’t afford to speak. It would have been easier to turn invisible and slip past the guardian. But she’d called on the power to eliminate her odor and any trace of her passage. This spell would last for hours, as opposed to a few minutes of invisibility. Given the number of creatures in the Crag capable of tracking by scent, this was far more prudent.
Especially considering what she was about to do.
They had traveled six days to reach the Crag, and Thorn had spent a few of her evening hours reading … specifically, reading the parchments she’d found in the sack belonging to the goblin Kalakhesh. Thorn’s father had fought on the eastern front and served with Darguul units. He’d taught her the goblin language between the seasons, and while she couldn’t speak it well, she could read it. It had taken her a few days to crack the cipher used by the goblin spy, but she’d succeeded.
Kalakhesh had spent months at the Crag in the guise of a servant. During that time, he’d found a way to move about the fortress—via the latrines. He’d already known much about the layout of the Crag when he arrived. The original foundations of the subterranean fortress had been carved by hobgoblin architects thousands of years earlier, and Kalakhesh had access to an ancient plan. The parchments were his notes, including his initial expectations and the discoveries he’d made as he explored the mountain.
A moment’s concentration sent Steel into the mystical pocket inside Thorn’s glove, freeing her hands. A second thought and her gown transformed into black garments and leather armor. She’d want the gown back when she found her way out, but the dress wasn’t an ideal choice for climbing.
Sifting through the pockets and pouches of her working harness, she produced two small objects. The first was an ivory clip that she pressed across her nostrils. The stench of the latrine alone was enough to make her retch, and she could only imagine how much worse it would be below.
The second object was a loop of leather cord, another object she’d found in Kalakhesh’s sack. She placed it over her finger and felt a faint tingle as it tightened against the leather of her glove. Studying the makeshift ring, she pictured a spider web, imagining sticky strands reaching out and wrapping around her palms, feet, and fingers. Thought became reality, and she could feel the invisible threads against her hands. She ran her palm across the rough surface of the latrine wall and felt the threads catch on the surface.
She’d put this off as long as she could. All the preparations were made. Taking a deep breath, she sat down on the privy and lowered