The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson

Slowly, Meisha uncurled her body and slid out from under his hand. She came to an unsteady sitting position against the wall, still too close to the unstable wizard for comfort.

How long had she been meditating? No, that wasn't true, she thought, berating herself savagely. Meditation had turned to sleep, and a deep one. That had never happened to her before, not unless she willed it. Had Varan used some magic to make her sleep? The thought was more than unsettling. Meisha knew what he could do to her when she was awake and aware. It was frightening to contemplate what he might have done to her while she was helpless in sleep.

Helpless in sleep.

Meisha stood up so quickly that Varan looked up from his reading. His smile struck her with a profound chill. "You're dreaming, m'dear. Back to sleep now, child. There's a good girl." He resumed his shuffling.

Meisha slid back to the floor quietly, but her thoughts raced. Even in his current state, even asleep, Varan had sensed her presence in the chamber. He may have been confused about who she was or how old, but he knew someone was there with him. Of course—it should have dawned on her long before now.

Varan had known all along when the refugees were in his chamber. They shouldn't have been able to take his discarded magics from him without his consent, not while he could still cast spells—and she'd had painful proof that he could capably defend himself. But according to Talal, he'd never attacked any of them, until Shirva Tarlarin and Meisha herself, after she'd picked up the banded sphere. Meisha looked around the room for the item, but it was gone, taken in the last delivery to the Shadow Thieves. Varan didn't seem bothered by its absence.

Why, then, had he attacked her? Perhaps there had been another reason behind his violent outburst. Perhaps he'd killed Shirva Tarlarin for that same reason.

She watched Varan for a long time, but his face registered nothing and offered her no clues.

Meisha jumped at the sharp rap on the door.

"It's just Talal," Varan muttered without looking up from his papers.

Meisha's mouth slid open and shut, but she had no time to marvel at Varan's flashes of lucidity as the door opened a crack and Talal wiggled through.

"What happened to you?" Meisha demanded, seeing the dried blood on the boy's neck and shirt.

"Lost some hair," was all Talal would say. His hands shook slightly as he ran them through his dirty locks. His eyes were bright, hard chips of stone, but he smiled as he reached for her hand. "Still alive, I see. Good. Come with me. You'll like this."

Curious, Meisha followed him out into the corridor and down the passage he'd tried to take her through before. It arched away from the warrens and back up a tunnel in a rough horseshoe, emptying into a circular chamber bounded by steep flowstone sides. Scattered about the floor were piles of small- to mid-sized stones.

Meisha stepped around Talal to see at a better angle and realized the piles were arranged in tidy rows. A group of men with shovels scooped rocks onto a high mound at the back of the chamber.

"They're graves," Meisha said, counting the fallen and coming up with the exact number—plus one—of refugees Talal said had died in the Delve. Her gaze returned to the fresh stone pile.

Talal followed her eyes. "Like it? One of 'em's yours. We dug it the night I brought you in," he explained, and had the good grace to look sheepish. "You know—just in case. After you mended, we kept it for when they came back. Oh"—he kicked off her boots and held them out—"you can have these back. Don't fit me anyway."

"They believed I was dead?" Meisha asked, suspicious. "On sight of a grave alone?"

Talal exchanged grinning gazes with the circle of digging men. One of the men winked at Meisha. "Not at first," the man replied. "But Talal told em we'd dig you up, 'yes sir, right away sir—it'll only take a few days with these little stick shovels you give us, sir.' " The digger laughed heartily.

"So we started in," Talal said, frowning as he fingered the newly naked skin behind his ear. "We actually dug up Shirva. Aazen left with half the men and the latest shipment when we started digging, and Balram didn't linger to look beyond that she was female and recently dead. It's just like before," he said, looking at Meisha. "Balram hates the Delve, everything about it makes him twitchy. It was all he could do to be down here smelling us."

"Bloody cowards," another man said. He spat on the ground.

Meisha smiled at Talal. "You have my thanks," she said. "You've saved my life twice now."

The boy jerked his shoulders, but he was blushing fiercely. "Nothing to it, Lady. You get us out of here, Tymora puts us in balance." He added quickly, "The bitch."

"We have to talk about that," Meisha said, looking at the gathered men. "Get everyone together, if you will. We can't wait for Kall to find the portal. We have to try to escape on our own, and the only way out is through the Shadow Thieves." There was restless murmuring among the men, but Meisha ignored them. "According to Talal's brother, at least one of them has the key to activate the portal. We're going to take it from the next party that comes through the door."

Eyebrows soared around the circle of diggers, but Talal grinned, slapping an arm around Meisha's neck. "What'd I tell you, boys? She's going death-seeking again. That's our Meisha."

When the diggers had dispersed back to the warrens, Meisha pulled Talal aside. "I need to know about Shirva Tarlarin," she said.

Talal looked surprised. "What about her?"

"Do you know which of Varan's items she touched that set him off? Was anything found near her body?"

Talal thought for a moment. His eyes clouded. "She had one of his strings," he said finally. "From his neck sack."

"His neck pouch?" Meisha asked. She hadn't expected that. Then she remembered the rings. She'd put the apprentices' rings back in Varan's pouch at the same time she'd been handling the sphere, just before Varan attacked her. Had Shirva Tarlarin touched the pouch too? "Is that why he killed her?" she wondered aloud.

"Don't know, but the string was wrapped around what was left of her fingers. I think he"—the boy swallowed—"near as we could tell, he bit some of her fingers off taking it back."

A mental picture of Varan attacking a woman with only his teeth made Meisha light-headed. She felt Talal steady her with a hand to her waist. "Why would he do it?" she asked. "He keeps nothing of great magic in there. What is he hiding?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Keczulla, Amn

5 Marpenoth, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)

Cesira stood in the ruined tower, watching through one of the arched windows as Dantane, Morgan, and Laerin rode toward the estate.

Kall came to stand behind the druid. He lifted a hand as if to touch her long hair, but her tresses stirred in the wind, blowing out of his grasp.

You never asked me, Cesira said, turning to face him. You didn't ask me to stay behind.

"I was afraid you'd say I was a damn fool," Kall said with a laugh. "I thought I'd try an indirect approach to get you to do my bidding."

As if you've ever had a problem convincing me of anything. And you've always been a damn fool. Getting some years on you doesn't change anything, she said. Why do you want me to stay here? Even my charms—though considerable, I grant you—won't be enough to save Morel's name. Amn has seen through all our pretenses.

"It isn't for that," said Kall, frowning. "Don't you think I would rather have you at my back down that snake hole than Dantane? Now which of us is the fool?"

Then why?

"Because Balram won't stop us from entering the portal. He'll find out about it, and he may put up a token resistance, but he wants us to get in. And once we're inside, he'll come in after us and bring all manner of Hells down on our heads. He'll want to kill us all underground, where no one will see, then go about his business."

Cesira laughed shortly. You fill me with such confidence, my lord. I may faint from it, she said.

Kall shook his head. "I'm not worried about a fight with Balram in the Delve. But if he tries to seal us in, if Garavin's plan to get the refugees out fails, we need someone on this side who can blow that sealed entrance apart. You're the only one I trust, and the last person I ever wanted to ask to do this." He took her hand, folding her fingers around a small emerald.

Cesira looked at him questioningly. He showed her his sword. It rode at his hip as always, but the emerald in the pommel had gone. When Garavin took his gem down into the Delve, she could use her magic on the link between them to locate the hidden entrance, bypassing any concealing magic laid on the tunnel.

"Take rooms at an inn somewhere in the better districts," said Kall. "Garavin will use his stone to call you, if something happens." He grinned lopsidedly. "Believe me, if something goes wrong, we will call. I'm not too proud to ask for a rescue if I can't dig myself out of a hole."

But Cesira frowned, refusing to be distracted by the jest. Take rooms at an inn? Why would you ever think I would agree to hide, Kall? What are you protecting me from?

Kall hesitated. "This house won't be safe. When Balram finds out who's coming after him, he may send men here."

And?

"And if he does, they'll be out to destroy whatever is left of Morel. No loose ends this time. Balram won't allow it."

Then I hope he won't be too disappointed to find the lady of the house here to greet him.

Kall's eyes narrowed. His lips moved, but no sound came out. What was that, my lord? Cesira asked teasingly. I am the one who lacks speech, remember?

Kall put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed, fighting the temptation to throttle her. "I said, you're a stubborn, arrogant wench."

And you're a blind pig's arse, Cesira threw back, if you think I'm running away to hide.

"I can't have him get to you." Kall tried to steady his voice. "I won't let it happen."

Kall.. . Her anger gone, she seemed as much at a loss as he.

If anything happened to her, Kall realized, it would be the end of everything. He'd begun to build a new life the night he'd been hurtled through the portal to Garavin's camp. Now the ashes of his old life threatened to destroy everything he'd come to cherish.

Kall stepped back, kneeling before Cesira. He lifted a hand toward her. "Come here. I want to show you something."

Hesitantly, Cesira placed her hand in his palm. His fingers wrapped securely around hers. He guided her to the floor, splaying her hand beneath his against the rough wood. "Do you feel that—that catch?" he asked.

Cesira nodded and pressed. The false floor slid back to reveal a slender nook, no wider than their two arms but just as long. Arrows filled the pocket. Dust covered their fletching, but the points were still sharp enough to kill.

"My father feared attackers from every direction, even before Balram's magic took his mind," said Kall. He felt calmer now, and oddly detached as he spoke of the past. "He had dozens of these caches hidden throughout the estate. I don't think I've managed to find them all, but there are weapons and traps—some of them wickedly ingenious. I've written the locations down, along with instructions for how to set the traps. Morgan and Laerin were very helpful in that area, as I'm sure you can imagine. You'll want to go through everything step by step so you can remember where they are without looking for them."

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