DISSENTION

 

They dared not tarry in the feast hall for fear that the manticore's corpse would put more searchers onto their trail. Despite the cure spells, Devis walked with a weary limp that prompted Vadania to support him as they went. Tordek saw that Lidda was sulking about it as she brought up the rear, and he hoped her indignation would not dull her senses to an approaching threat.

He did not really hold her to blame, though. He was more than half certain the bard was overplaying his injury for more attention. The only reason Tordek did not say so was that he was sure his accusation would only generate more sympathy for the damned rascal.

Instead Tordek led them farther north, along a great cavern lined with long-abandoned homes and shops stripped of their original contents. Except for their subterranean location, the structures were not so different from the houses of the hill dwarves, who lived their lives above the ground. The only obvious difference was that the peaked roofs were reinforced for rockslides, not mere rain.

The cobbled streets smelled of dry rat dung, and the shredded remains of old spider webs waved in the gated air vents that remained open. From others, the stains of rain-soaked soil ran down the walls, and mounds of pebbles and dirt gathered at their bases, proof of the centuries of neglect the abandoned stronghold had endured. Now and then they found a few scattered bones, cracked and sucked dry of marrow. Centipedes and ants the size of Tordek's thumb crawled away as their light approached.

They crossed a bridge over a vast chasm. Looking up, Tordek saw reflected light over another bridge high above. The silhouettes of two more bridges appeared between them and the light, showing that Andaron's Delve was once far more than the shelter for a great smithy; it was a city unto itself. The distant echo of hammers drifted down from the heights, confirming his earlier estimate that they had plunged about three hundred yards below the foundry before splashing into the subterranean lake.

Lidda whistled low and appreciatively. "That's some climb."

Tordek nodded. "Unless their forces are far greater than we realized, they might never find us down here. Still, I would like to find a defensible room before we rest."

No one argued that point.

They crossed the bridge and entered a region of wide avenues paved with hexagonal tiles. Grand fountains, cracked and filled with dust, formed a roundabout at every intersection, and between the ornate houses jutting from the stone stood great half-pillars carved in the likeness of dwarven heroes. Despite the strength of their construction, inexorable time had dropped stones, pulled apart the earth, and shaken the walls to form long cracks. Most of the buildings had even greater injuries, with entire rooms crumbled to gravel or roofs collapsed into the chambers they once sheltered from avalanche. One narrow alley between a pair of squat domiciles was completely filled with deep, red clay fallen from a rupture in the cavern. Condensation from the walls trickled down its length, forming a miserable little creek across the street.

Tordek led them past all the crumbling monuments to a square of temples surrounding a huge statue of Moradin above his anvil. The Soul Forger's arm was raised above his head, but it ended just short of the elbow. Great fragments of his hammer and forearm lay tumbled on the street. Tordek knelt briefly and said a prayer to the great god of the dwarves, asking his pardon for this intrusion into accursed chambers and permission to take shelter within his once-holy refuge.

"How about this one?" said Lidda. She stood before a squat edifice with a row of scalloped columns for a facade. Unlike its neighbors, it had suffered few cracks, none larger than a snake could penetrate. Its walls looked thick and sturdy. Its only visible door was a great bronze portal turned dull green with age.

"If you can open that door," said Tordek, "I'll be impressed. That is a coin vault."

"Ha," said Lidda, bending her entwined fingers backward to crack her knuckles. "Brace yourself for being impressed."

She set to work with an intensity Tordek had never before witnessed, exchanging picks every few moments as she quickly got a sense of the lock's inner mechanism. When he saw her furtive glances to check whether Devis was watching her progress, he realized the source of her inspiration. He turned back to the broken statue of Moradin and made a silent prayer for endurance.

Lidda worked silently for half an hour, then the excuses began.

"There really is a lot of corrosion in here," she said.

Devis complained of a pain in his neck, and Vadania massaged his shoulders. The druid didn't seem to notice when Gulo whuffed indignantly and wandered out to explore the nearby buildings for vermin. Tordek wished he could go with the big fellow.

Lidda did a double take when she heard Devis sigh with pleasure and noticed the elf's ministrations.

"Damn it!" she said. When everyone looked at her querulously, she hastily added, "Almost had it that time."

Irritation made her difficult task downright impossible. Tordek saw her drop a pick and curse under her breath, so he decided to let her off the hook.

"Forget that lock," he said. "It's probably ruined, fused shut over the centuries."

"No," protested Lidda. "I'm going to show this bitch who's boss."

Tordek kept the smile off his face with a supreme effort. He knew it wasn't the lock she was cursing.

Devis took his lute out from its bag and tuned it by ear. Vadania sat back to listen, and Lidda noticeably relaxed as the elf took her hands off the bard.

"I once knew a great lockpick," said Devis, plucking out a tune that started slow and gradually picked up to a lively pace. He smiled at Lidda and added, "Not quite in your league, of course. In his land, he was known as the phantom, because he could pass through any door."

Spend all the coins kept in your purse,

The phantom's come to town.

Your vaults will go from bad to worse,

When he comes through the ground.

Lidda grinned and turned back to her task, a new gleam of determination in her eye. Tordek knew this sort of sport could cause trouble in the long run, but if it kept up her spirits while she was helping them find shelter, he had nothing to say about it.

They laid a trap in every house,

But he was warned before.

Their cage was bare but for a mouse,

And he was out the door.

The lyrics didn't get any better, but at least he sang it quietly. Tordek had to admit that the lad could carry a tune. Maybe later he would teach him some proper dwarven drinking songs, if there was a later for them all.

"I got it!" cried Lidda exuberantly. When she realized how loud she had been, she grimaced her apology and whispered, "See? Are you impressed now, Tordek?"

"I'm impressed," said Devis. He stowed his lute and made for the unlocked vault door, pausing only to give the halfling a congratulatory kiss on the cheek.

Tordek looked to see what reaction Vadania had to this turn of events, but the elf's serene face was unreadable. To Tordek, that composure was more frightening than any sign of ire.

"Let's go in," he said. "Carefully."

The outer vault was merely the entrance to a wide hall of individual repositories, each sealed by a much more impressive, much less ornate iron door. Once Gulo ambled in to join them, Tordek made sure the door opened with a latch from the inside and pushed it closed.

"At last," he said, "we can get some proper rest."

He spied Lidda standing beside one of the iron vaults. Upon the wall was a row of short, iron levers and four corroded wheels. Lidda reached for one of the handles.

"I wonder what happens if I pull this lever...."

"No!" shouted Tordek, Devis, and Vadania in unison.

"I was only kidding!" she said. "Gee, I'd think you could trust me by now."

"How should we know when you're joking?" said Tordek. "You're a halfling."

"Yeah, a halfling, not a moron!"

"What's the diff—?" began Tordek in an innocent tone.

"Don't finish that thought," said Lidda, holding up a finger. "You aren't even a little bit funny. You think you are, but you aren't."

"Dwarves have a tremendous sense of humor."

"Some dwarves," she said. "Not you."

"Not now, you two," said Devis. "Maybe you should sort this out by taking the first watch. I'm beat." He yawned into his fist.

Vadania spread her bedroll on the floor. When Devis placed his beside hers, they exchanged a sidelong glance that both Tordek and Lidda noticed.

"What's she doing?" muttered Lidda. "She doesn't need to sleep like people do."

"Maybe you can find the trap," said Tordek, hoping to distract her from the little drama Devis was nurturing.

"Maybe you can find it," snapped the halfling without taking her eyes off the bard and the druid.

"Already did," he said. "You're just about standing on it."

Lidda shot him a suspicious glance. "Fool me once ..." she warned.

"I'm not joking. You're fine as long as you don't pull that lever or pull on the vault door."

"How can you tell?" she asked.

Tordek pointed to the flagstones. Their creases were filled with dust and grime. "See how much space is between them? That's because they're on a balance of some sort. If they were meant to be firm, they'd be mortared."

"All right," said Lidda, stepping carefully back. "I see it now. You had a dwarf advantage on that one."

"Aye," agreed Tordek. "Still, I couldn't figure out how to disable it if I tried."

"Bet I could," said Lidda.

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much would you like to bet?"

"You never bet!"

"I will this time," said Tordek. The more incentive he could give her to concentrate on something other than Devis and Vadania, he reckoned, the less likely she was to sulk, complain, or otherwise irritate him while he stood watch.

"A hundred gold," she said with her chin held high.

"Done," said Tordek.

"Damn. I should have said two hundred."

"Do you have two hundred?"

"I will when this bet is settled," she replied.

"One hundred it is. I'll get out of your way and keep an eye on the door."

For the first time in hours, Tordek breathed easily. He could still feel the strange, dead core through his lung where the hammer's accursed power sealed his wound, but at least it didn't hurt or seem to be spreading. He walked toward the door and found a comfortable seat on a block of granite that had been an elegant bench before something smashed one end. Gulo was curled up nearby. He opened one wary eye as the dwarf approached.

Tordek knew that Vadania's bond with her animals did not necessarily include her two-legged companions, but he had met Gulo when the wolverine was little bigger than a wolfhound. He reached out a cautious hand and stroked the big animal's head. Gulo made a contented sound and closed his eyes. Tordek smiled but withdrew his hand. Better not to press his luck.

"I think I've done it," said Lidda an hour later. Rather than pleased, she sounded weary and sullen.

"You didn't try one of the doors, did you?"

"Of course not," she said. "Not while both the healers are... sleeping."

Tordek looked past the halfling to see Vadania nestled under Devis's arm.

"Besides," she said, "I thought you weren't interested in finding treasure here."

"I didn't say I wasn't interested," said Tordek. "It's just not as important as stopping Hargrimm."

"Yeah," said Lidda. "About that, you have any ideas how we're going to do it?"

"I don't know," sighed the dwarf. "I wish we had a small army."

"I wish we had a big army," said Lidda, "with tall feathered hats. We could make them march."

Tordek shook his head and turned his eyes up to the heavens.

"See?" she cried after him. "Me, funny. You, crabby."

"All right," said Tordek. "I concede the point."

"You'll give me a hundred gold, too, once we open one of those vault doors."

Tordek nodded, glad to see Lidda thinking of something other than that foolish bard. It wasn't a great surprise that the fun-loving halfling had gotten her head turned by Devis's silver tongue. What surprised him was Vadania. The elf was older than he by considerable years. She should have known what trouble such trifles could cause among a small group that depended on each other so much. He would have to broach the matter with her later, in private.

They kept watch silently for an hour and then whispered for a while concerning theories about how the vault doors must open. Lidda identified the particulars of the trap. The pressure plates triggered a battery of spikes or spears from the floor. As if that weren't enough to deter a thief, it appeared that the ceiling was rigged to fall on the skewered intruders moments afterward. The more she described the mechanisms she had perceived from the hidden clues of the stonework and vault hinges, the less Tordek wanted to explore the treasures that lay beyond the trap.

Vadania sat up, gently setting Devis's arm aside as he snored. She blinked a few times and stretched her neck, but then she appeared as alert as if she had never closed her eyes. Tordek had seen her go from seeming slumber to action in the time it took a stone to fall from shoulder height. These elven reveries were yet another way in which the fair folk were set apart from the other races, as well as another excuse for those who feared and hated them.

Lidda had never been one to shun elves, but she sniffed and turned away as Vadania joined them on the broken bench. Tordek moved over to make room for her.

"Shall I make a fire?" she asked Tordek.

"Not on my account."

He noticed that she did not make the same offer to Lidda. So did the halfling, judging from her arched eyebrow.

"You look a little stiff," said Tordek, nodding to the bloodstained wound on her shoulder. All of her cure spells were expended on Devis. She had made do with a simple bandage.

"I'll be fine," she said. "In a few hours, I'll be able to mend it. Or perhaps Devis will do me the honor."

Lidda snorted derisively. "Is that what you elves call it?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

'"The honor'," Lidda mugged like a child. "It's a wonder he didn't 'do you the honor' right there in front of the rest of us, after you rubbed yourself all over him."

"Lidda," admonished Tordek.

"No, let her speak," said Vadania. "She is obviously troubled by the attention Devis shows me."

"Shows you!" Lidda sputtered. "I'm the one he was singing to. I'm the one who got us in here so he could sleep."

"Whu?" said Devis, stirring from his slumber.

Tordek held his head in both hands.

"Well, you've put an end to that, haven't you," said Vadania. "If I knew how irrational and jealous you would be, I never would have invited you on this quest."

"Invited?" said Lidda. "Why, you practically blackmailed me into this. Devis, too. I have half a mind—"

"That's the main problem," interjected Vadania.

"Ladies, ladies," said Devis, gesturing for calm. "There's no need to fight over me. I'm perfectly willing to—"

"This has nothing to do with you, minstrel boy!" spat Lidda. "Butt out."

"Yes," agreed Vadania. "This is between me and the brownie."

"Who are you calling a brownie, you green hag!"

Tordek made a tactical withdrawal behind Gulo, who was already snuffling as the loud voices jolted him from dreams of slapping salmon out of the river—or so Tordek imagined. The thought of standing in an icy river was appealing to him, too, at the moment, as long as it was far from here.

The combatants circled each other while trading verbal barbs. Tordek shot an accusatory look at Devis, expecting him to do something to stop this quarrel. The bard only shrugged with a conceited little smile as if to say, Can't help it.

"If you weren't a friend of Tordek's," said Lidda, working up a good head of steam, "I'd...I'd..." She thrust her finger at the elf, just short of poking her in the chest.

Vadania gasped and arched her back, her head whipping back.

"Don't you mock me, elf!" cried Lidda. "I won't stand for it."

Vadania stumbled forward onto her hands and knees, and they all saw the gashes in the back of her armor and the blood dripping down the leather.

"I didn't do that!" Lidda unsheathed her blade, peering behind Vadania for some sign of her attacker.

Devis hopped up and grabbed his sword. Tordek already had his axe in hand. He swung it before him like a blind man walking through an unfamiliar room, seeking the unseen intruder.

Vadania recovered quickly and scrabbled to her feet while reaching for her scimitar, but then she let out a little shriek as another pair of slashes appeared on her sword arm. For an instant, Tordek saw the pustulant little fiend from the forge room appear beside her, but the creature vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Its mocking laughter rang out briefly, then Tordek heard its scabby feet running across the floor.

Gulo sniffed and growled as he caught the thing's scent. The big wolverine stalked forward, then snuffled the floor. He turned from side to side, unsure which way the thing had run.

Vadania fell again to one knee. Her body shook as the quasit's venom worked its way through her veins toward her heart. Lidda moved beside her, sweeping her short sword in all directions in the vain hope of cutting the invisible foe.

"You ridiculous, pathetic fools," cackled the voice. Tordek stalked toward the sound, but then it spoke again from another location entirely. "Hargrimm promises the next of Andaron's blades to the one who brings back the hammer, and that will be Yupa!"

Tordek lunged for the voice, swinging wildly but cutting only air. Devis did the same, more cautiously and with his back against the wall. Lidda stood guard over Vadania as Gulo lurched first this way, then that. All the while, the quasit mocked them from the shelter of his invisibility.

Gulo roared and twisted around to slap at his tail, which suddenly bled from a jagged wound. The quasit appeared for less than a second before scampering off again. Gulo tracked it for ten or twelve feet across the rubble then darted to the side, confused by the quickly moving scent trail.

"Leave now," cried the shrill and hateful voice. "Leave the hammer behind, dwarf, and flee. It is the only way to avoid joining your brother's bones in my master's belly!"

"You couldn't lift Andaron's Hammer, you troglodyte dropping," spat Tordek. "How will you carry it away?"

A sudden, pungent sensation surged through the room. It was a stink that was not scent, a cold, liquid urgency beyond feeling or taste or sound. Tordek swallowed hard, trying to smother the sudden urge to flee.

Vadania curled into a ball on the floor.

"Oh, good gods," babbled Devis, He almost dropped his sword as he pressed his back harder against the wall. His gaze darted from side to side, finally fixing on the front door. Tordek saw that he would bolt from the place if he could work up the nerve to leave the safety of the wall.

"Tordek!" cried Vadania. "Whatever you do, don't let that thing near those levers or we're doomed!"

He hesitated only an instant before catching her meaning. "Oh, no!" he yelled, a bit stiffly. He balked as if torn by two opposing fears, then he ran—not too quickly—toward the trap levers.

"Too late!" cried the little fiend's voice. One of the levers shot down with a clang.

Nothing happened.

Tordek took a step back and looked up at the ceiling. He half-expected the roof to fall in on them all.

"Oh, no!" shouted Lidda. "He's going to pull the second lever!"

"What?" said Tordek. "Oh, oh no!"

With a gleeful cackle, the invisible quasit pulled the next lever. Eight spears shot up from the floor just in front of the vault doors. The one nearest the levers dripped with ichor for an instant before they plunged back into their sheathes in the floor. A wet mess began pooling on the floor beside the levers. Something burbled and gasped as it made halting trails in its own blood.

"Stand back, everyone," warned Tordek, heeding his own advice by hustling away from the vaults.

Eight granite blocks fell from the ceiling. Their crash silenced Yupa the quasit's frightened squeak.

Devis held a hand to his chest as though to keep his heart from leaping out. Tordek knew just how he felt, but he managed to hide it better. Lidda seemed completely nonplussed by the infernal terror as she knelt beside the elf and popped the cork from a pewter vial then held up Vadania's head to help her drink.

"There, there," she said. "This will fix you up."

Vadania licked the last drops of the curing potion from her lips and sighed in relief. "Thank you," she said.

"Hey," replied Lidda, slipping the vial back into her belt pouch. "Anything for a friend."

"Friend?" said Devis incredulously. "Just a minute ago—"

Before Tordek could warn him, both of the women turned on him with squinty eyes.

"Mind your own business," said Vadania.

"Yeah," agreed Lidda. "Stop causing trouble, Bunny."

"I can't believe I let him snuggle with me," said Vadania.

"You think that's bad?" asked Lidda. "He kissed me, and I've seen where that mouth was recently."

"Hey!" said Tordek and Devis. They looked at each other, then they looked uncomfortably away.

"Men," said Lidda.

"Boys," corrected Vadania, and they both nodded in sympathetic understanding.