25th Day of Goodmonth, 565 CY
The Dungeons of the Slave Lords,
The Aerie, The Pomarj
As fast as the animal was, Tojo was faster.
The samurai's right fist rammed into the badger's stomach even as his left forearm interposed itself in the path of the carnivore's teeth.
The creature roared with rage as it lunged at Tojo. He knocked aside the badger's jaws, but the beast's claws dug deep gouges on the samurai's right shoulder and down his left side.
Argo snatched up his bone club lying on the floor.
Elrohir was also already in motion. One of the few of the group who had been standing up when Tojo had shouted, the ranger ran as fast as he could, squeezed by the battling pair and then swung his sap at the dire badger's back. It was a solid hit but had no effect on the enraged creature.
Unru rose unsteadily to his feet, but Sir Menn also got up, gently moved the illusionist aside with a warning to stay out of the fight and began to rush forward. He managed to squeeze past Tojo's left and up to the badger's side before realizing that it was too tight a space for the optimum use of his sap. Unfortunately, by that time Sitdale was right behind him, and the knight couldn't back out.
Meanwhile, Argo, Arwald and Aslan had moved to flank the badger on its opposite side. None of the others could advance, either because they were spellcasters or because there just wasn't any more room in the cramped tunnel.
Seemingly berserk, the beast continued to attack Yanigasawa Tojo to the exclusion of anybody else. The samurai again avoided the creature's deadly bite, but the beast's claws once more dug furrows of red in his flesh.
"Tojo! Pull back!" Elrohir yelled, but the samurai seemed deaf to his voice.
Elrohir- not for the first time- cursed his friend's single-mindedness even as he thanked him for providing the distraction they needed. While Argo slammed his bony club against the creature's skull, the others attacked with saps and rocks.
Tojo saw his opening. The side of the samurai's open hand chopped into the dire badger's neck, and the creature collapsed on its side. It wasn't dead, but the other five warriors quickly pounced on their fallen foe, and it was all over in a matter of seconds.
After healing Tojo of the majority of his wounds, Talass unobtrusively edged up to her husband while the others were sharpening rocks and pinching pieces of moss of the glow-fungi.
"I can heal twice more, dearest," she whispered. "That's it."
"Are we ready to move out?" Elrohir asked several minutes later. "Let's go; I don't want to be in this chamber when another tremor hits."
Arwald had tried to hoist Hengist's body over his shoulder, but the fighter was just too weak to manage that now. Sir Menn, long accustomed to wearing his full plate armor, volunteered, and although it was a heavy load, managed it. Elrohir suspected Menn's generous offer was motivated at least in part that it gave him the opportunity to put his loincloth back on.
Elrohir couldn't hide his displeasure at this. They'd all have to move more slowly so as not to leave the burdened Sir Menn behind. This would cancel much of the gain they'd achieved by now having light to travel by. Elrohir was sorely tempted to point this out to Arwald, but the fighter had been waiting with a ready scowl when Elrohir had turned his eyes in his direction, and the ranger had decided to just drop the matter.
Sitdale stood idly by, fingering a glow-fungus he held in one hand. The creatures seemed to be harmless enough, although they had the annoying habit of slowly crawling away whenever they were set back down on the floor, so they needed to be held in hand. Like all those who previously wielded the crude saps, Sitdale had replaced his loincloth and now wielded a roughly-sharpened rock in his other hand. It was probably better suited as a chiseling tool than as a weapon, Elrohir noted, but at the moment it was the best they had. The group leader had decided Sitdale would continue in the front rank of the new marching order, next to himself.
Argo and Aslan would constitute the following rank. Elrohir kept hoping that the paladin would inspire his teammates with some encouraging words, but Aslan seemed as depressed as any of them; possibly even more so. The paladin's free hand kept wandering up to the grey metallic collar around his neck. Talass had examined it and declared it to be a cursed item of some kind. Once they had escaped and she was able to regain her prayers, the priestess was confident that she would be able to remove it, but until then it was impossible.
He feels useless, Elrohir realized. The ranger wanted to offer comfort to his friend, but he was so tired, hungry and thirsty that no suitable words came to mind, and he was sure the paladin wasn't in the mood for bland platitudes.
Elrohir knew he certainly wasn't.
His wife was nearby, holding a glow-fungus in one hand and a rock in the other. Talass kept taking deep breaths, as if to steady her nerves, and seemed disinclined to talk to anyone.
Argo was less than his usual cheerful self at this point as well. He'd replaced his loincloth, denouncing his sling as useless and kept tapping the bone club into his other palm. Bigfellow also seemed distracted, but Elrohir had a good guess his fellow ranger's thoughts were drifting to his wife Caroline back home.
Elrohir could sympathize. Ever since he had awoken in the dungeons, the ranger had harbored the unspoken hope that Monsrek might attempt to contact one of them with a sending, just to let Bigfellow know his wife was all right. Although Sir Dorbin wouldn't be able to teleport directly to their location, the clever knight would surely be able to devise some sort of rescue plan once Elrohir explained their situation.
But there had been nothing.
Cygnus and Zantac would be the next row. The two wizards looked as fatigued as anyone else, but the simple fact they were able to put pieces of moss into their makeshift pouches seemed to lighten their spirits a bit. It had been decided that even though each of the small glow-fungi only shed illumination half that of their light cantrips, carrying three of them would insure that the entire group would be bathed in light, even if it was green. They'd save the spells for if and when they were needed.
Talass and Unru would follow. The illusionist had insisted he was fine, although he was clearly weaker and more unsteady than any of them save Thorimund. Although she said nothing, Elrohir saw his wife flash a brief look of concern at Unru. The ranger had to smile, thinking only a few days ago how Talass had been ready to smash her warhammer into the same portion of Unru's anatomy that now hung down naked and unprotected.
The next line would consist of Arwald and Thorimund. Thormord's son was conscious and could walk, but that was about it. The others had insisted that he put his loincloth back on and abandon any ideas of further spellcasting. Arwald, now also carrying a rock, had taken the self-appointed job as his protector and that was fine by Elrohir, although that might mean Arwald would be slower to join any future combats. That would not be fine; especially as Sir Menn- one of their best fighters- was far too encumbered now to be a useful combatant.
The knight would have the next rank to himself. This was so if battle were to break out in another of these narrow tunnels, Menn would at least be have a place to put Hengist's body down before joining the battle himself. Elrohir still thought that a fight might be decided one way or the other long before the knight could bring his fisticuffs into play.
Tojo and Nesco once again comprised the rear guard. Despite the difficulties they'd had months ago, the two seemed to getting on fairly well now, and Elrohir never forgot to be grateful for that. Tojo seemed like his old impassive self, although the ranger suspected his samurai friend might insist on recovering his swords once they escaped.
Elrohir sighed. He wasn't looking forward to attempting to talk Tojo out of that idea, but he had no time to worry about that now.
Lady Cynewine, holding a rock in one hand and the third glow-fungus in the other, seemed ready to move out, although she looked as tired as everyone else. Nesco seemed to at least have overcome her reticence at having anyone see her topless, although Elrohir expected this was more due to ennui as confidence.
Elrohir had known that Nesco Cynewine was an extraordinarily attractive woman since the day he'd seen her in her velvet dress at her mansion in Chendl, but he marveled that she still retained a hint of that beauty even disheveled and covered in grime and dust. She wasn't quite his type- no woman would ever compare to Talass in his eyes- but Elrohir couldn't resist glancing over to Aslan.
He noted that the paladin was looking everywhere except at Nesco- or Talass for that matter- which made him unique among the eleven males present here.
Dismissing these thoughts as trivial, Elrohir was about to issue the command to fall into formation when Unru cried out.
"Garl's nuts- I forgot all about the parchments!"
The others clustered around as Unru removed the wooden rings from the cloth tube, removed the four sheets of parchment within and carefully unrolled them. One was very small- only a few inches long, but the other three generated intense excitement upon the spellcasters present.
"Spells!" Zantac exclaimed. "By Boccob's staff, what I wouldn't give for a prism right now!"
Elrohir looked at him curiously.
"It's a focus for our ability to read magical writings," Zantac explained.
"What does that small one say?" asked Arwald.
In response, Unru held it out for the others to read.
Fellow Furyondans,
This is all I could manage. It is possible to escape the dungeons, though I know not how. The Nine are preparing to depart sometime this day. May your gods be with you.
Your friend
Argo raised an eyebrow. "Fellow Furyondans," he mused. "That's interesting. I wonder who it could be. Still, it's always nice to have friends, even if you don't know who they are."
"Wished he could have snuck a prism in that tube," Zantac grumbled. "We can't make use of any of these spells."
"Can't be helped," Elrohir said. "Come on- we're out of here."
The tunnel had ended in a T-intersection several hundred feet further on, and Elrohir had chosen to take the passage to the right. He hoped that his announcement had sounded knowledgeable rather than the blind choice it really was, but no one had asked for an explanation, so he hadn't had to conjure up one.
"There's one thing I don't understand," Nesco commented after a few minutes of silent trudging.
"Only one?" asked Unru.
Nesco ignored him. "How can our mysterious friend know that there's a way out of here if he doesn't know what it is?"
"It's possible that someone has escaped from here in the past," Argo conjectured.
"And even if they haven't," Sitdale spoke up, "it stands to reason. We have to be close to the surface. Check out these walls," the half-add added as they walked on. "These are limestone, unlike the sandstone walls we encountered earlier. You can't have limestone without water, nor can you have fungi."
"Let's not forget that badger," Bigfellow reminded everybody. "They may be burrowing animals, but they always dwell near the surface, no matter how big they are."
"But wouldn't the Slave Lords have noticed and plugged up a hole big enough for that badger to move through?" Nesco wondered.
"I don't think the exit from here is going to be a hole we can simply stroll through, Nesco," Elrohir said. "Given the ravenous condition of that badger, I'm guessing it fell through a sinkhole, or perhaps a tremor collapsed its burrow and stranded it down here. We have to be alert for any traces of moving air. Our exit may be no more than an inch or so in diameter, but working together, we should be able to widen it enough for us to squeeze through."
"You're more optimistic than I am, Elrohir," Aslan muttered.
The team leader searched in his mind for something spirited to say that wouldn't spark derision in his friend.
"There is some cause for hope," he eventually went on, choosing his words carefully. "Mordrammo told me that these caverns are usually used to dispose of Suderham's worst criminals- those whose offences are too severe to warrant slavery."
"Is that supposed to make us feel better?" snarled Arwald.
"It should," responded Elrohir, more forcefully now. "Consider; how many of the condemned do you think they put down here at one time? This is just a hunch, but I don't think it's usually more than three or four at the most. This time, there are-"
The ranger bit his lip.
"-thirteen of us. That many people, if they can cooperate," he added with a pointed look at Arwald, "can accomplish amazing things."
Talass frowned. "If that's the case, why didn't they put us down here in smaller groups?"
Elrohir was silent for a while.
"I've been thinking about that, dearest, and I think I might know why." He took a deep breath. "They had to rush our imprisonment. I believe that Mordrammo knows- or at least suspects- that Mount Flamenblut is going to erupt as well. The Earth Dragon is angry, and even he, the Dragon's High Priest, doesn't know why. That's why he and the other Slave Lords are getting ready to evacuate."
"That's why we have to stop them," Nesco suddenly announced. She then turned to her rear guard companion. "Tojo, you know more about the Earth Dragon than any of us. Do you have any idea what we might have done to make it so angry?"
The samurai walked on in silence, but it was clear he was deep in thought. Occasionally, his violet eyes would flash over to Nesco, seemingly of their own accord, and then it seemed Tojo literally had to wrestle them back to looking straight ahead.
"Cannot say, Nesco-sama," he eventually sighed. "Earth Dragon of Nippon devourers its enemies but does not waste time on hatred. It is spirit whose worship is grounded in tradition going back many years. Fayure to appease Dao Rung onry way I think of to enrage it so."
Tojo's eyes narrowed.
"There more hidden purposes at work here. Mordrammo know more than he ret on."
Aslan appeared ready to say something, but then let it drop and remained silent.
"That's a vein of coal."
Sitdale pointed to a dark streak running along the left wall of the tunnel.
Elrohir gazed at the wall, running over any possible uses to which this new find could be put.
"We could dig out enough of it with these rocks for a decent-sized fire," Argo contributed.
The team leader considered, but then shook his head. "We have nothing to light it with, and even if we could, we'd have no means of transporting hot coals. Let's move on." He looked ahead. "The corridor makes a sharp turn to the right up here. It's also getting narrower. Watch your step."
It was just beyond the turn that they saw the irregular-shaped outcropping in the wall. Several of the group recognized it simultaneously.
"Flint!"
A number of people rushed forward at once, forcing Elrohir to restore order. A few minutes later, several large chunks had been obtained via their crude stone tools.
"We could light that coal now, if we wanted to go back and get some," Nesco suggested, but Elrohir again shook his head.
"No. Coal burns hot. It requires more heat to ignite than just the sparks we could get from this flint. Keep moving, people."
The tunnel widened up slightly as it continued, but it also began to twist and turn more frequently.
"This tunnel is sloping downwards," Sitdale announced. "Not sharply, but it is."
"There's also more water," Argo put in. "I can feel the dampness in the air, and look- the walls almost have a sheen of moisture on them."
"Well, we don't want to be going down. We want to be going up!" Sir Menn grumbled from under his burden.
"I'm well aware of that, Sir Menn," Elrohir sighed. "Let's follow this for a little while longer. We can backtrack if we have to, but if we are approaching water, we just might find something potable."
That thought was enough to keep everyone going.
"Water!"
Elrohir cursed inwardly when he heard Sitdale shout the word, and his fears were confirmed an instant later when what felt like a dozen people began to shove against his back, propelling the ranger awkwardly forward despite his protests.
The party staggered into a small pool, roughly half-moon shaped. Cold water sloshed around their ankles. There were two other visible passageways leading out of this area, and all three seemed to be spaced roughly equally around the curved wall. The far passage, about twenty feet from where they had entered, sloped visibly upwards and a small but steady stream of clear water ran down it into the pool.
The water was crystal clear, but even in the dim greenish glow of their mosses, the group could see that the floor sloped away sharply towards the straight wall, almost at a forty-five degree angle. Only ten feet away from where they stood, the water would be over their heads.
From what else they could make out; the floor was covered with- something.
"This calls for some real light," Cygnus announced, and several seconds later a reassuring white glow emanated from the piece of flint the wizard held in his hand.
Argo bent down and with a yank pulled something white off the floor of the pool.
"It's some kind of cave shellfish," the big ranger said. "A mussel of some kind. The floor is covered with them."
"And look!" Sitdale cried. "I see some blind cave fish, and there's even a few crawfish scuttling about!"
Elrohir was about to reply to this when he noticed that half of the group were already drinking from the pool.
He was about to cry out, but then the ranger stopped himself short. He was the one who had encouraged this, after all. Elrohir knew he could last longer than many of his friends could without water, but the soreness in his throat at the sight of all this cold, clear water became impossible to resist. When he saw his own wife, the paragon of restraint, cupping water in her palm and then lifting it to her lips, he realized that they were just going to have to take their chances.
Repressed sighs and even exclamations of joy erupted from numerous lips as the party not only drank but began to wash themselves off as well.
Sir Menn laid Hengist's body down as carefully as he could in the entrance to the middle passageway, which seemed dry and level. Rubbing his shoulders and arching his back, the knight was about to join the others when his gaze suddenly went to the far passage, from which the water was coming in.
"Cygnus," the knight said. "Cygnus! Hold your light still a moment!"
The wizard obeyed, and everyone else froze and went silent, expecting danger.
Sir Menn pointed to a spot on the wall to the left of the far exit. "Your light is glinting off those rocks there. Is that more flint?"
"No," Cygnus replied, slowly wading towards where the knight was pointing.
"No!" he suddenly exclaimed, water splashing about as he began trying to hurry towards it. "It's quartz, for the love of the gods- it's quartz!"
"We seem to be a little crowded here," Cygnus snapped a minute later.
The mage was speaking the truth, for the group had become a mob around the magic-user, who was sitting at the edge of the passageway they had entered, the scrolls in his lap. The party had chipped off many pieces of quartz with their stone tools, but sober examinations of them all by the five wizards present had excluded all but one of them, and they were unsure if even that one was of sufficient quality to allow the spell to work.
"If you'll all give me enough air to breathe, I'll try to read them," Cygnus continued. The crowd pulled back a little, but their excitement was palpable.
After what seemed like forever, Cygnus incanted and then began to move the piece of quartz over the parchment.
"It's working," he announced after a moment, to the sound of a dozen sighs of relief. "It's slow going; I have to go half as slow as I ordinarily would, but I should have more than enough time to get through these."
"And even if you don't, we can continue on," noted Zantac, and his fellow mages nodded.
"Invisibility," Cygnus muttered after about two minutes.
"Always useful," Unru commented.
Cygnus nodded and then moved on to the second scroll.
"Hmm," the mage muttered. "I've never seen this spell before." He continued on for another minute or so, and then looked up at the expectant faces.
"This spell affects fires. It can make them larger or smaller, within limits."
The other mages looked at each other, but it was clear none of them were familiar with it as well.
Thorimund shrugged. "A personal creation of either Ajakstu or Lamonsten. Must be they have a lot of time on their hands." He leaned against the wall to steady himself, breathing heavily but muttered "I'm fine," to Arwald's look of concern.
"And finally," Cygnus pronounced after going over the final scroll for another two minutes, "a jump spell."
Zantac wasn't impressed. "Useful for one person perhaps, but it doesn't help the rest of us."
"We make do," Cygnus replied, rising to his feet.
"Speaking of making do," Unru commented, a smile curling at the edges of his mouth, "am I the only thinking that sparks from, oh, say- flint- could now be made into a fire hot enough to burn coal?"
"For what purpose?" Elrohir asked, frowning.
In response, the illusionist reached down and yanked up a cave mussel.
"Food."
Elrohir watched in dismay as the group went into a frenzy of activity at the very word. Some rushed to dig out coal and pile it back at the entranceway while others began pulling up shellfish as fast as they could. Nesco even caught a good-sized cave fish with her bare hands while Argo snapped up small crawfish. Only Elrohir, Aslan and Talass stood apart from the activity.
"Elrohir." His wife's face was lined with worry. "We don't have time for this."
"I don't like it either, dearest," the ranger replied. "but unless you can tell them that the volcano is going to erupt in the next five minutes, I don't think there's any way of stopping them. Too bad you're a priestess of Truth," he added wryly. "You could lie to them, otherwise."
Talass scowled at her husband at the very thought. Bigfellow, close enough to overhear, turned around.
"If you'd like another reason for resting besides the obvious one of us not dropping dead from fatigue and hunger, here's one. Some of these mussel shells are long enough that I think I can sharpen them into serviceable daggers."
Talass turned to the big ranger, but the cleric's light blue eyes held only weariness, not anger.
"And how will that help us when a thousand tons of rock comes crashing down on our heads, Argo?"
Bigfellow gave her his first pained smile of the day.
"If I thought we were only five minutes from finding the exit, my good lady, I'd be sprinting for it."
Aslan, who had been silent for the past several minutes, suddenly pointed down into the water. "Look at that."
Elrohir came splashing over. "What is it?"
The paladin's face was as grim as ever. "There- and there. Bare patches on the pool floor where none of us have been gathering yet."
Aslan looked up to meet Elrohir's gaze.
"We're not the only ones who harvest here."
"Best meal I've had in my entire life," Zantac sighed as he tossed another empty mussel shell away.
"Just might be your last," Cygnus mumbled through a mouthful of cooked crawfish flesh. He finished it off, and then glared at his fellow wizard. "Who appointed you Guardian of the Fire, anyway?"
Zantac shrugged. "There's only room in here for one of us to tend the fire and actually do the cooking. You forget; one of my brothers is a fisherman. It's not the first time I've had shellfish. I know how to cook them. Here," he added, picking up another roasted mussel and tossing it at the Aardian mage. "That should be enough meat to keep your bony ass going for another month."
Talass, having given in, was licking her fingers clean. "Well, at least we'll die with full stomachs."
Argo called over from the middle passageway, where he and five others were currently sitting. "I've got another dagger finished, Zantac. Toss me another mussel."
"Can't you just take an empty shell?"
"Hey, we rangers need to eat, too."
Zantac snorted and tossed him a shellfish.
Elrohir and Aslan were over by the far passageway. That tunnel was too wet to sit down in, so the two stood in water up to their calves, silently eating the cave fish that Lady Cynewine had donated to them.
"Have to admit, Zantac knows what he's doing," Elrohir mumbled through his last bite of fish. "This is cooked perfectly. He even managed to partially fillet it with one of those shell daggers."
Aslan nodded silently in agreement, bending down to wash the fish juices off his fingers in the water.
"Aslan," Elrohir began, taking the plunge. "We're all in dire straights here, but there's something else going on with you. You know that a group is only as strong as its weakest link. As your team leader, I order to tell me what's bothering you."
The paladin flashed his friend a brief sardonic smile, and then looked away at the pool.
"I don't need to tell you, Elrohir. You've already figured it out."
The ranger frowned in confusion. "I'm a slow learner. Help me along."
Aslan took a deep breath.
"I am our weakest link."
When the paladin looked back around, he saw what he had expected to see.
Elrohir staring at him, dumbfounded.
"Aslan, are you insane?" Elrohir had to fight to keep his voice down. "What makes you say that?"
In response, Aslan tugged at the collar around his neck.
"So?" Elrohir snapped. "We've been without your Talent lots of times before! Quite recently too, I might add!"
Aslan shook his head. "Not like this. Even when my Talents were depleted, we knew I'd have them again soon enough. Our tactics, and our actions based on them, were all predicated on holding out until I had mindrested. Without my Talent, what am I? A short, naked man throwing skulls around."
"You're also a paladin!" Elrohir felt constrained to point out the obvious.
Aslan shrugged. "And where has that gotten us? We have clerics with us who can heal. Would my detecting for evil auras on every mushroom and animal we come across make things any different? I was a Talent long before I was a paladin, Elrohir. Even while I was in training to become a paladin, I used my Talent in every way I could think of, just to make sure I wouldn't fail in the trials I had to undertake."
He turned around and leaned back against the cave wall, closing his eyes in sorrow.
"My being a paladin didn't help Hengist, did it?"
Elrohir again tried and failed to think of something to say.
"Hengist was only here because I brought him here," Aslan continued. "Thorimund, Arwald, Sir Menn, Unru, Sitdale, even Wainold- it was all my idea, remember? I was the one who decided to call for reinforcements!"
The paladin opened his eyes, but he wasn't looking at Elrohir.
"I never realized how little I am without my Talent."
"Aslan, that's not-"
"I'm going to wash up," Aslan said suddenly, and without another word waded out into deeper water.
Nesco Cynewine let the feel of the cold water invigorate her
The group was getting ready to leave. Zantac was already extinguishing their fire, and Argo had handed out the four shell daggers he had managed to carve, including one to Nesco, who had tossed her glowing moss to Elrohir. The shellfish knives were almost as crude as the pointed stone tools that had shaped them, and there wasn't much room to hold them without cutting one's own hand on the sharpened edges, but it had been the best Bigfellow had been able to manage under the circumstances.
Lady Cynewine had decided to take one last quick dip before they left. A few others, sharing her thought, had done likewise but they had already returned to shallower waters, leaving only Nesco and Aslan in the deeper end.
She could see the paladin swimming now, taking a long, leisurely circuit by the far wall of the cavern. The paladin clutched a glow-fungus in his right hand. Aslan had earlier dunked his head into the water several times and repeatedly ran his hands over his dripping hair and through his beard. Nesco recognized the gesture- Aslan was trying to wash away unpleasant thoughts.
Lady Cynewine desperately wanted to make him feel better, but she thought that she might not be the best person to attempt that right now.
She couldn't be sure that in doing so, she might not let something slip.
Nesco felt the floor slide away below her toes as she began to swim towards Aslan. The ranger had swum in the canals of Chendl many times in her youth, and considered herself reasonably at home in the water, if not quite as good as others she had known.
Aslan, treading water now, was staring at the far wall when he suddenly turned around.
Nesco also stopped and treaded water, taking care to keep the water at about neck level. She briefly considered splashing some water at the paladin in an attempt to cheer him up- even if only through sheer embarrassment- but she didn't want Aslan to think of her as being frivolous.
In the dim green light, Aslan had an odd look in his eye that Nesco found unsettling.
"Nesco," the paladin began. "This wall doesn't go all the way down to the floor. This pool is only a small portion of this body of water- most of it is past this wall. I don't know if there are any air pockets on the other side, but I'm going to take a brief swim over there and find out."
"Why?" Lady Cynewine couldn't help but ask. It seemed unduly dangerous to her.
In response, Aslan pointed to the far passageway.
"There's water coming in, Nesco, but I don't see any coming out. I also felt some currents while I was swimming. There has to be an egress for all this water. It might even be large enough to swim through."
The paladin smiled, but it was without mirth.
"I may be useless," he said softly, more to himself than to Nesco, "but I don't have to be a burden."
"Aslan, wait!" Nesco called out, but he had already gone underneath.
Lady Cynewine had no idea what the paladin's last statement had meant, but she suddenly decided she didn't think it was a good idea for Aslan to be by himself for any length of time.
She took a deep breath and clutching the shell dagger in her right hand tightly, plunged down after him.
Even carrying all the dirt from their bodies, the water's clarity still amazed Nesco. Ahead of her, she could see Aslan swim downwards about ten feet- the length that the far wall extended under the surface, and then vanish behind it as the paladin began to swim back upwards. Only the faint greenish glow remained.
Nesco had just about reached the wall herself when the water suddenly grabbed the ranger and mercilessly spun her end over end. A roaring filled her ears, and she could feel her breath being forced out of her lungs.
The next tremor had arrived.
"Look out!" Elrohir cried over the cracking of stone overhead and the splashing as his companions toppled over into the water. Cries of alarm filled the cavern.
Larger splashes occurred as several chunks of rock fell into the pool from the ceiling.
The group leader tried to keep his gaze out over the water even as he struggled to remain on his feet. He had seen Aslan and then Nesco go under but swimming out to rescue them during the tremor was an impossibility.
What in the Nine Hells were they thinking? he thought to himself even as he cocked his arm back to throw.
Nesco Cynewine felt something hard slam into her midsection.
The ranger felt the last of her held breath leave her lungs in a gasp even as she continued to flail around wildly. Her makeshift dagger slipped out of her hand and was lost.
It had gone dark again- Nesco couldn't see what she had rammed into, but she had a guess- it was the bottom of the rock wall. It wasn't very thick, but the turbulence all around her still made swimming an impossibility.
She was trapped, and she was drowning.
Aslan! Her mind cried out even as panic started to overwhelm her.
And then the green glow was back.
Somewhere at the very edge of the ranger's fading vision, that wonderful light was back.
Nesco had no idea which way she was facing anymore, but the turbulence was starting to recede.
With her last effort, Lady Cynewine maneuvered herself from under the wall, and then pushed off from it with her feet towards that glow as hard as she possibly could.
And several seconds later, broke water.
Coughing and gasping while still treading water, it took many more seconds for the ranger to recover herself to the point where she could see clearly.
What she saw as the tremor faded was Elrohir and the others wading out towards her and shouting.
And the other thing she saw was the glow-fungus that Elrohir had flung out over the pool. It lay bobbing in the water only a foot or so away from her. That had been the light she'd pushed off towards.
Nesco's head had snapped around even before the terrible conclusion had reached her brain.
There was no sign of Aslan. There was no sign of any light from beyond the wall.
The ripples from the tremor faded.
The name rang off Nesco's ears again and again as the word repeatedly erupted from eleven throats.
"Aslan! Aslan! Aslan!"
The water became calm and clear again.
The pool looked just as peaceful and inviting as when they first arrived.
"Oh, Lord," Nesco whispered. "Aslan, please… no."
"NO!" she screamed and was about to dive under again when ripples began to return at about the same spot where the paladin had gone under.
Nesco halted her dive as she felt several of the others swimming up beside her, but she still couldn't tear her eyes away from the growing ripples. She wasn't going to relax until she saw Aslan break water.
And Lady Cynewine knew she was going to be very hard-pressed not to kiss the paladin when he did.
She could only hope that Aslan would chalk it up to sheer exuberance.
There was no light with the shape that was now swimming back under the rock wall, but that didn't concern Nesco. The turbulence must have torn Aslan's glow-fungus out of his hand. She thanked Zeus that the paladin had found his way back without it.
The underwater figure grew closer and closer now. It was-
It was-
It was too big.
Lady Cynewine felt Elrohir's hand grab her shoulder and yank her backwards as an explosion of water erupted only ten away from her.
A white exoskeleton glistened a faint green in their two remaining moss-lights. Water ran down white chitinous plates, feelers and a fan-finned tail that, for all their colossal size, looked horribly familiar to everyone.
The crawfish before them had to be at least nine feet in length.
And caught in one of the creature's gigantic claws was Aslan.
Blood seeped from all around the paladin's torso, where the spines on the inside of the crawfish's claws had sunk into his skin.
More blood, mingled with water, dripped from Aslan's mouth, but he did not scream for help.
There was no pleading look in his eyes.
As far as they all could see, there was no life in the paladin's body at all.