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Chapter Thirty-Five – Hunters

Valen spun, and felt the familiar, heavy pull of his flail as it caught on flesh, dug in, and ripped clean. He thought he heard something thud to the ground, but between the roaring of his own heartbeat in his ears, and the whining clamour of Deekin's spells, he was not sure. Shoulders rigid, he turned, glared up and down the slope again.

Behind, Dakesh was crouching, pressing one hand against a dripping slice on his upper left arm. Nearby, unharmed, Deekin lowered his hands, left a single magelight floated beside his head. Still suspicious, Valen looked back up to where Andaryn knelt, slowly letting his bow go slack. "Anything?"

The drow shook his head. "I don't think so."

Valen swiped blood away from his eyes, and belatedly realised that the back of his right hand was gashed. They needed to clean themselves up and move on, and quickly, he knew. While Deekin bandaged Dakesh's arm, and laughed at the mercenary's snide remark about bait, Valen looked at the wide gouts of black blood on the stone. Cautiously, he prodded at a thick patch with one foot, scowled when it proved sticky. You hit more than one of them, and you think you heard them fall. So where the hells are they?

Kneeling, he flipped Devil's Bane round, swiped at the empty air. The haft bumped into something solid, and he narrowed his eyes. If he tried to ignore the bright point of Deekin's magelight, he thought he could see the edge of spines, and rough, scaled skin. "Deekin?"

"Yes, Goat-man?" The kobold pattered up to him. "You needs bandages too?"

"Yes. Deekin, can you see that?"

The little kobold tipped his head on one side. "Yes, but it be like trying to see stars that be too far away."

"What?"

"Well, when Deekin looks up into the sky at night sometimes, and there's stars, and some stars are very bright, and some are not…" Deekin shrugged. "And Deekin tries to see the not very bright ones, the bright ones seem to keep getting in the way."

"So it's a spell?" Valen frowned. "Why would it keep working if they're dead?"

"Might not be a spell," the kobold said. "Might be something they just do."

"That's not comforting." He scrubbed a hand across his face. Still, it meant the Seer had been right, at least on this count. These things can die, just like anything else. But how many of them are there? Half lost in thought, he let Deekin wrap a clean bandage around his hand, winced when the knots were tugged tight. And you made Imloth run off into the darkness with Jaiyan, and now you're not being attacked, but they might be.

Valen swung Devil's Bane back over his shoulder, and snapped, "Andaryn. Can you see them?"

The drow arched his eyebrows, but did not complain. He turned, vanished for a brief moment over the crest. "Nothing but dust and a few footprints."

"Then you'll follow their trail until we find them."

"I will?" Andaryn folded his arms. "You sent them away. We have little time enough as is it is, and these things know the smell of your blood. I say we keep moving and let them catch up."

"No." Three quick strides took Valen to the top of the slope. "We find them."

The drow's eyebrows rose again, tauntingly. "You really want to waste that time? We need to move on, and now, or did you forget about Lith My'athar?"

Valen bit back the urge to simply lash out. "Of course not."

"Imloth can track, I assume," Andaryn said. "If they move quietly enough, and aren't bleeding, I'd give them a fair chance of finding us again."

Was she bleeding? He was not sure. He remembered hearing her cry out, more than once, but he was not at all sure. "And they'll be of far more use with us, safe, and helping Lith My'athar."

"You're wasting time," Andaryn said flatly. "You're asking that we change our trail entirely, and go looking for a drow who should be able to follow us, and a surfacer who you apparently thought needed to come with us."

Valen growled. In one smooth motion, he had Devil's Bane unslung. "Meaning?"

Still gazing up at him, Andaryn did not flinch. "Meaning she's blind, mostly useless, and should have been left behind. Killing the Valsharess in a brightly-lit room is one thing, tiefling. Fighting in the dark is entirely another, and you should have left her behind."

Without thinking, Valen lunged for the drow, and snarled when someone grabbed his arm and jerked him roughly to one side. He glared into Dakesh's dark eyes, and did not lower his flail. "Let go," he ground out. "Let go, right now."

Dakesh did not loosen his punishing grip on Valen's arm. "Drop the flail."

The mercenary was built lean, and all he had to do was wrench away fast enough, drive a fist into his stomach, and kick his feet out. Then turn back, he thought, and convince the drow to go after them, any way you have to.

"Goat-man!" Deekin's nose bumped against his arm. "Don't. Please."

He blinked rapidly. His head felt heavy, fogged with anger. He needed to find Jaiyan, and Imloth, and see that they were safe, and he knew that Andaryn was right. He should have made her stay, even if it meant a screaming fight, because that could be healed in the end, anything except this leaden knot of fear that seemed to stop his breathing.

"Goat-man." Deekin's small hand closed alongside Dakesh's. "Drop the flail."

He shook himself, made himself look down into the kobold's face. "But I…"

"You know," Dakesh said, quietly. "I am actually slightly sympathetic right now. But you have to remember that the drow you seem rather intent on beating to a pulp is also the only one of us here right now who knows where he's going. Might be prudent to leave him alive, yes?"

Something in the mercenary's unexpectedly soft voice drilled into him. He's right, you need the drow, need the drow because even if Imloth can find the place you're looking for, he's not here, and Andaryn is, and he's been there before. "Alright." He drew down a long, shuddering breath. "You can let go."

"Drop the flail, Valen," Dakesh said.

He obeyed, and made himself watch when Dakesh kneeled down and scooped it up. On the edge of his vision, he was aware of Andaryn, still standing idly, unperturbed.

"Finally." Andaryn sighed. "Perhaps we could agree to move on, then?"

Dakesh ran one fingertip along the flail haft. "Indeed. The quicker we move after them, the quicker we find them."

Andaryn's eyes widened. "What?"

Deekin shrugged. "Boss needs to be found. Deekin not letting Boss or Imloth be alone with monsters."

"It's impractical, dangerous, and just asking for us to be attacked again." The drow's hand slid down to his sword hilt. "Either that, or we'll find them both gutted."

"Then go on alone," Valen snarled. "You're not the only one of us who knows how to track in the Underdark."

"Except, of course," Dakesh added thoughtfully, "Going on alone, you'd be the perfect target, wouldn't you? Stay with us, and you've got a better chance of one of us dying first. I know you gave Imloth maps. I'd wager with a bit of luck, he'd be able to find this death-trap cavern of yours. Rendering you perhaps not quite as useful as you'd hoped." He grinned viciously. "You know, I think this is what they call an impasse."

Andaryn's jaw clenched. "And if they're dead?"

"If they're dead, we go on as before," the mercenary answered. "And while I don't think you'd be stupid enough to attack all three of us, you're a drow, so kindly get that hand away from your sword."

Watching, Valen saw the drow's rigid frame slacken slightly. With his mouth firmly set, and his eyes blazing, he turned away. "Be ready to move, then. That means no dripping blood, clean weapons, and silence."

"Valen."

Startled, Valen looked back to the mercenary. "Yes?"

"If I give this monster of a flail back, are you going to cave my head in with it?"

Valen grinned wearily. "Probably not." He accepted Devil's Bane, hooked it back across his shoulders. While Dakesh checked his sword, and Andaryn paced furiously, he glanced down at Deekin again. "That was…probably not the best way to try and resolve that, was it?"

Deekin shrugged. "Nope. Worked, though."

"I just…" He had been angry, blindingly angry, and mostly at himself. "I need her back."

The kobold reached out, touched his hand. "So does Deekin."

***

Each breath sawed through Jaiyan's lungs as she ran. Her face was damp with sweat, and loose wisps of hair clung to her temples. Beside her, Imloth moved with maddening grace, his hand around her wrist as he tugged her along. Her shoulders stung, and her ankle throbbed from a jarring tumble against the ground. She could hear her own breathing, and Imloth's, much lighter, more controlled, and the insistent sound of rushing water, close by.

Twice they had stopped, thinking they were clear, and twice something had come lunging out of the darkness. The first time, Imloth flung himself past her, crashed into it, and drove his sword in to the hilt. The second time, the attack had been almost silent, and Jaiyan had come to close to panic when Imloth suddenly pitched forward. He had flipped over, shouted for her to hide, and cried out when something spun him around.

And, half hating herself, she had clutched at the light stone, shoved herself under the scooped-out blackness of a ledge and waited.

Fingers clasped over the light stone, blocking it, listening to her own rapid breathing and the scuff and scrape of Imloth's boots against the stone. The horrible sound of him hissing in sudden pain. The clang of his sword hitting rock. Even when silence followed, she did not want to move, did not want to find out which of them was still moving. Cold stone pressed in on three sides. Her fingers were slick with sweat, and she could not decide if keeping her eyes closed or open was worse. Either way, she could see nothing, and her heart was hammering painfully hard.

The air moved against her face. She slid a hand down, found her sword hilt.

"It's me," Imloth whispered.

"Gods above," she snapped back at him. "What is it with you and scaring the hells out of me in the dark?"

"It's dead."

She eased out from under the ledge, loosened her grip on the light stone. She saw blood, and little else. "Where is it, then?"

"Here." He kicked at something, and though she saw his foot impact against it, she could not quite make it out.

She shook her head. "I can't quite…it makes my head hurt."

He smiled, took a step, and swayed. "Oh."

"Oh?" She caught him, and immediately felt the hot spread of blood across his shoulder. "You're hurt, you idiot." She scrabbled in her pack for a healing potion. "Drink this, and then I'll wrap you up."

She had cleaned his armour as well, at least, the best she could with poor light and little time. After forcing another healing potion down his throat, they had moved on at a demanding pace. Covering the rough terrain quickly, and winding a zig-zagging path between clusters of high boulders, they ran wordlessly. By the time Imloth let her slow down, she was gulping down air and cursing the burning ache in her legs. She had no clue of how much distance they had crossed, or how far from the others they might be, and that ignorance rankled.

To the right, the ground slanted up again. Motioning for her to keep close, Imloth crept up, past a jagged column. She could hear water, harsh and loud. When he stopped, crouching low, she peered past his shoulder. Beneath them, the stone dropped away sharply, jagged and dark and wet. Below, water plunged and seethed, crashing white against high pillars of stone.

"Imloth?"

He nodded slowly. "I know. She spoke of a river, and…"

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know." He frowned. "I'm sorry. She didn't know."

Jaiyan stared down at the rushing, dark water and tried not to worry. "Well, if it meant we were both about to die horrible deaths, surely she'd've foreseen it?"

"Whatever I say to that is not going to be reassuring."

"I know." She scuffed a foot against the stone. She had no wish to linger, not with the river frothing below them, and Valen somewhere behind them. "Should we go back?"

"Yes." He tipped his head to one side. "Jaiyan…do you hear that?"

She shook her head. "All I hear is the water."

His face stayed grim. "We're too exposed. We need to move." He looked down the slope, then up, at the arching stone overhead. "Can you swim?"

"What? I am not jumping in there."

"I'm not asking you to," he snapped back. "I need you to climb down. Hide."

"While you do what? Stand here and hope you can take them?"

"Get down there and do as I say."

"No." As angry, she glowered right back at him. "If I lose you, I'm lost. I won't know…you have to come with me."

He opened his mouth again, and she heard it, the scrape of loose gravel, close by. She could see little beyond the small pool of brightness from the light stone. That's not Valen, she thought desperately. Valen would sound like actual footsteps.

She grabbed Imloth's wrist and tugged. "Come on!"

A shuffling, awkward movement took her over the edge, hauling him behind her. She scrambled down, hands sliding over wet stone. Her heels slipped, and she leaned against Imloth. He was braced easily, his back flat to the rock. She glanced down, noticed that they stood on a ledge maybe a foot wide. This close to the river, the air was full of spray, and the water surged past, cresting against smooth boulders.

It's moving too fast to have anything in it that could jump out and bite, she thought, slightly frantic. Which means if you fall in, you won't get eaten, but you might split your head open. Or drown. Stop thinking, now.

She looked at Imloth, saw him shake his head. His eyes flicked up, and she understood. She closed her free hand over the light stone, dropped it inside her collar, and waited. Tried to hear beneath the roar of the river. Flung-up spray touched her cheeks, her hair. Long, painful heartbeats crept past, and she wondered if screaming might make her feel a little better, or at least scare away whatever might be crawling around on the bank above.

She felt Imloth pry his fingers away from hers. She heard the low, steely sound of him very carefully drawing his sword. He leaned in, close enough that his lips moved against her ear, and murmured, "Press yourself back and hold on."

Jaiyan dug her fingertips against the slick stone. The ledge seemed too narrow, too precarious. Loose bits of rock showered down from above, and she bit her lip. The air shifted, damp against her closed eyelids, and she heard Imloth moving. His sword whined up, smacked against something solid. He cried out, startled, and she told herself she had to keep herself silent. Imloth's boots slid against the stone, and she heard him gasp. He's losing his footing and you have to do something. Jaiyan gritted her teeth, tugged the light stone out of her collar. Imloth hissed and jerked away, dragging a hand up to shield his eyes. His sword snapped up again, the blade sinking in.

The thing above him wrenched away, slithering back up. Imloth tried to heave back, tried to clear his sword. He had nowhere near enough room to move, and his impetus was thrusting him forward too far. She grabbed his shoulder, yanked him back. Above her, the air changed, pushed against her face. Imloth groaned, and his right hand juddered open. She lunged up, grasped his sword hilt.

"Need to…" He sucked down a shaky breath. His armour was carved open along his right shoulder. "Jaiyan…"

She dragged the sword free, and hot blood showered down. It screeched, high and shrill and painful. Something heavy and thick slammed into her side, sweeping her away from the ledge. Jaiyan scrabbled back, reached blindly for Imloth. Her fingers hooked on his arm. She kicked out madly, touched nothing but empty air. She managed to swear, once, before they plummeted, and the river swallowed them.

She surfaced, gasping. Where the hell was it? You heard it fall with you. Something heavy, plunging into the water alongside you. Was it still alive?

Her hair coated her eyes, and she swiped it aside angrily. The water tasted dank, somehow oily. Another swell rolled past. She kicked around, gauged the distance to the bank. "Imloth?"

"I'm here." He sounded ragged, somewhere behind her in the darkness. "Keep moving."

"Where is it?"

"It's dead."

"You're sure?"

"I'm not about to go swimming for it," he snarled. "It fell with us. I don't see it now."

The light stone dangled from her neck, bobbing when she struck out for the overhang nearby. She caught it with one hand, tried to heave herself up. The river crested over her head, left her spluttering. Her second attempt failed, gave her nothing but scraped fingers and a mouthful of rank water.

"Weapon belt," Imloth snapped.

She reached down, somehow managed to find the buckle. She wrestled her belt off, kept her hand locked around it. The current rushed underneath, caught the end of the scabbard. She swore, hauled it above the surface. With Imloth balancing her, she pitched it up and over, heard it hit the stone above. She helped him with his bow and quiver first, and shivered when another wave pushed them against the side. His daggers followed, along with his sword belt, and then they were drifting, caught again and pulled away from the side.

"Imloth!" Jaiyan reached out, grasped his hand, slipped away from him again. "Imloth!"

He launched forward, propelling her towards the bank. "Reach out for it!"

She swung up madly, caught the wet edge of the stone. The water roared past, and her left hand slid, almost fell. Imloth shoved, and she heaved, and then her knees cleared the surface, and she was crawling onto a ledge, sodden.

There was no time to think, no time to notice how her leathers clung to her, how she must stink of the river. She saw Imloth flail, and the water rolled, swamped him. Got a vicious current, she thought. Right down the middle and pulling. and he was hurt and bleeding. She dropped to her knees, stared wildly at the churning surface. The water was black and topped with foam, and the light stone showed her nothing more useful than a spot of dancing brightness.

"Imloth?" Where is he? "Oh, hells." She waited a moment longer, feeling cold water running past her eyelids. "Stupid drow."

Not giving herself time to think about it, Jaiyan dived back off the ledge. The enveloping coldness of the river shocked the breath from her lungs. She forced her eyes open, saw murky darkness, and the blurred light from the stone. And Imloth, a hazy shape beneath her, facedown and drifting, his white hair unreeling behind him. She stroked back up, broke the surface and gulped down air.

Sending a quick prayer to Tymora, she kicked down, and her grasping fingers brushed his shoulder. The current swirled on beneath her, and she thrashed against it. Reached out desperately when the water pushed him further. Her hand snagged against his collar. Another fierce kick, and she locked an arm around his neck, the other snaking around his waist.

Her chest was aching, and her ears were full of the sound of the river. Imloth sank against her. He's not heavy, she thought, close to frantic. Get him up there. She drove herself upward, holding Imloth against her, his head tipped back against her shoulder. She breached the surface, gasped down a breath that was half river, half air. Coughing, she tried to jolt Imloth's head level. Water ran out between his lips, but he did not stir. He's got sopping wet leathers on, she admonished herself. No way you'd be able to feel anything.

Still, she needed to get him out of the water, and fast. She shoved upward, grasped the edge of the overhang. Her fingers cramped and almost gave way. The water gushed past, nearly tearing Imloth away from her. Jaiyan swore out loud, and hauled upward. She ended up propped precariously, her shoulders and one arm clear of the river, and Imloth dangling on her other side. The hand locked around his belt was slowly turning numb, and she did not fancy her chances if she dropped him.

She kicked out at the stone, and her boots scraped and held. Another punishing heave, and her knees were on dry ground, the drow still with her. She ached everywhere, and was already certain she would find impressive bruises later. Groaning, she managed the last step, yanking Imloth clear of the edge and onto the ground.

He was on his hands and knees, trembling all over. By the light of the stone, she could see that his skin looked almost grey, and was horribly cold when she touched him. "Imloth? Imloth, you need to breathe."

A tremor ripped through him, and he twisted away from her. She heard his wet, wrenching cough when he gasped. She propped him up, pushed his hair aside when he threw up thick, dark water. "Imloth?"

His gaze lifted, eyes rolling and confused. His mouth moved, and he shook his head.

She nodded, just held him as another spasm racked him. "It's alright. You're alright. I've got you."

He drew in an unsteady, whistling kind of breath. "Thank you," he managed. "I remember…the river?"

"Yes. I pulled you out. You're damn heavy, for a drow."

He smiled weakly. "You saved me."

"Could hardly leave you there." She rocked back on her heels, shrugged. "You're the only one of us who knows where we're going."

"I feel so appreciated." He was shaking uncontrollably, his hair sticking in thick hanks to his chin and neck.

"Oh, gods, you're going to freeze. Everything's wet."

"Fine," he said, thickly. "Just need to…the others. Find the others."

Briskly, she found his weapons, buckled them back on. Her own sword followed, balanced reassuringly at her hip. Belatedly, she realised that their packs were soaked, but there was no time to check the supplies. More worrying was the slippery, uneven slope back up the river bank. Focus on Imloth, she thought. Get him moving and breathing, then we can worry about climbing back up. "Imloth? Come on. I've got you."

He nodded, grasped her fingers, his own icy and pebbled and still wet. He tried to stand, and groaned when his knees gave way. She caught him, said nothing when he retched again.

"I'm sorry." He was still unsteady, but he managed his next step without stumbling.

"Don't be. You nearly drowned, so at least you've got an excuse. You should have seen me at Hilltop, three years or so ago, for Mischa's birthday. I vowed never again to get quite so stupid drunk, then did it all over again at Midsummer. You should've seen the mess I made behind the tavern."

He laughed, rasping and exhausted. "You're so charming."

"Hey, I just went drow-fishing," Jaiyan protested mildly. "You have to be nice to me."

***

Following Andaryn's lean, darting shape, Valen gripped his flail harder and wondered again just what the hells might have happened. The trail led on ahead, criss-crossing sharply past high columns. Even if Imloth had been pushing hard, even if they were chased, why had they come this far? Somewhere behind, they had discovered dark blood pooled across the stone, and the scuffed marks of sliding footsteps. The skin between his shoulders was tight, and he was counting every thumping beat of his heart. If they did not hurry, if they did not get there in time….

Valen gritted his teeth, pushed on. Shadowing him, Dakesh kept pace, easily and silently, he had to admit. Deekin scurried alongside, his wings furled in, and his head down as he ran.

Around him, the darkness was strangely quiet, hollow somehow. Fitfully, he recalled blundering through the Underdark that very first time, when he had known only that he needed to find the Seer, and her city, and sanctuary. The caves and tunnels and echoing, open spaces had not been this deadened, this silent, he was sure. He remembered bolting, and hunger, and blood showering against the stone. Duergar, he thought. Duergar raiders and drow. Other creatures. Things you killed. Things you had to kill. Not this silence.

Andaryn held up a hand, motioned sharply.

Valen's tail lashed. He swallowed back his instinctive urge to snarl something at the drow, and obeyed instead. "What?"

"Listen," the drow murmured.

Valen tipped his head to one side. He could still hear the roaring of water, thundering close by. He had been vaguely aware of it for some time now, and he wondered if Imloth had led them towards it to perhaps hide beneath its noise. Or had been chased, he thought darkly. "And?"

"And it's going to make me deaf."

"The trail?"

"Towards the water."

Valen did not look away from the drow. "Then we follow."

For a long moment, Andaryn held his gaze. Without speaking, he nodded once, spun on his heel. Flitted past another huge, curving rock, and up the sloping ground. Valen growled, followed him with wide, wary strides. He needed the drow close, knew he could not hope to see as far in the darkness. He was tempted to snap out an order to slow down, but the roaring of the river was deceptive enough as it was. Don't want to announce our arrival to anything that might be lurking.

Beneath his feet, the ground was sticky with drying blood. The smell invaded his mouth and nose, thick and cloying. Not human blood. Not even drow blood. He pushed on, grimly noticed how sharply the crest of the slope fell away. Uneven, jagged rock, ending in a swirl of rushing water, filled with the gods knew what. Looking down, he saw crescent patterns in the dust, ending where the bank dropped down to the river.

His fingers clenched around his flail. He wanted to scream her name, shout it over and over until the echoes reached her and she heard him. She was somewhere, he knew. They were on foot, and stopped to fight at least twice. They can't have gone that far.

Andaryn's hand brushed his elbow, and he wrenched away. "What?"

The drow jerked his chin at a high, smooth boulder. He signed something that Valen thought he recognised as hiding.

He needed to wait, needed to learn what the drow actually meant. What was hiding? Jaiyan and Imloth? More monsters? Something else?

No, he thought. You've wasted enough time. Get moving.

He pushed past, ignored the drow's startled glare. Another two steps took him past the boulder, and a sudden flare of light stabbed into his vision. The flat of a sword snagged against his flail haft, and he heard Jaiyan whisper, "Valen?"

He squinted. "Yes…?"

"Oh gods…Valen." She lowered her sword. "I didn't…I heard, but I didn't think…"

He blinked again. He wanted to ask what the hells she thought she was doing, giving herself away like that, letting the light stone show. And where the hells had she been, in any case, and where was Imloth? He opened his mouth, looked at her, and the words died on his lips. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Imloth's here. He's…he's been hurt. He'll be alright."

"I…" He growled and wrapped his arms around her. "You're sure?"

Jaiyan sighed, relaxed against his chest. "He's got a gash down the side of his shoulder, and he tried to drink a whole river, but he'll be alright."

He laughed and did not let go, only held her tighter, lifting her off her feet. "I meant you."

She buried her head against his neck. "I'm alright." She kissed the side of his face. "Took your time, didn't you, tiefling?"

He was vaguely aware of Andaryn, and Dakesh, and then the kobold hopping past him. Deekin asking questions, and Imloth responding in a tired, rasping voice. "You ran," he managed. "What happened?"

"Imloth nearly drowned. And I hid under a rock."

His fingers found the straggling, damp ends of her hair, stroked. "While he nearly drowned?"

"No. Before." She burrowed deeper under his chin. "Deekin?"

"Your bard is fine." Reluctantly, Valen let her back down onto her feet. "I shouldn't've done that. Ordered you to go."

Jaiyan shook her head. "Valen…"

"No, I…" Cupping her face in both hands, he kissed her deeply. "I think we should stay together. It was a mistake. Stay together?"

She sighed against his mouth, and he felt her hands slide up and tangle in his hair. "Yes," she said, softly. "Stay together."