Escape from Undermountain (25 page)

At last Artek drew in a deep breath. Maybe it was too late for him, but Corin was young. Maybe there was still time for the young man to find a sort of healing, to be whole. Artek reached out and gripped Corin's shoulders. He gazed into the young man's eyes and would not let him look away.

"Listen to me, Corin," he said solemnly. "Listen to me, because I speak the truth. I was wrong. Your father was wrong. You aren't worthless. You have to believe that. I know that there are voices inside you, voices that tell you otherwise, but you have to stop listening to them because they, too, are wrong. No one deserves what happened to you, Corin. Do you hear me? No one."

At last Corin stopped struggling and held still within Artek's grasp. Artek kept talking.

"Don't you see, Corin? We need you. All of us. You're the only one who can get us across that lanceboard. You're the only one who can help us." Black eyes bore into clear blue ones. "Please," he whispered. "Won't you try?"

For a long moment, Corin sat as if frozen, staring with unseeing eyes. Artek despaired, fearing his words had fallen upon deaf ears. Then Corin's pale visage seemed to melt, and he blinked, drawing in a shuddering breath. At last he nodded. "I can't promise anything," he said in a hoarse voice. "But I will try."

Artek could not suppress a toothy grin. He encircled Corin in his strong arms, embracing him tightly. The young man stiffened. Then, tentatively, he lifted his arms to return the embrace.

"Excuse me, Artek," Corin gasped after a time, "but I'd like to breathe now."

"Oh, sorry!" Artek exclaimed, releasing the young man from his grip.

Corin stood, smiling shyly. "Actually, you're all rather in luck, you know. Though my father never placed much stock in it-it wasn't a blood sport, you see-I was something of a champion at lanceboard among my peers." He clapped his hands together. "Now, let's get started. We have a game to play."

A new air of confidence and authority gradually crept into Corin's words and actions. For the first time since Artek had met him, the young man truly seemed like a lord. He surveyed the gameboard critically, forming a strategy.

"This isn't going to be simple," Corin murmured, his expression one of intent concentration. "Our opponent has a full complement of playing pieces, and we are only four."

"Make that five!" Muragh piped up, rolling toward the nobleman's feet.

Corin actually laughed as he picked up the skull. "Ah, then there
is
some hope after all," he said.

With crisp commands, he directed the others to their starting locations on the first row of the game-board. Artek took the King's position, and Beckla the Queen's, next to him. Corin placed Guss on the end, in the role of an Ogre, and took a Knight position for himself. Muragh, to his delight, was a Sorcerer.

After this, Corin instructed each of them on the manner of their movement.

"Artek, when you first stepped onto the board, it was where Muragh is now, on the starting square of a Sorcerer," Corin explained. "Sorcerers can only move along a diagonal. That's why you encountered the magical barrier when you tried to move forward and side-to-side."

Artek nodded at the nobleman's words. As long as they moved according to the rules of the pieces they were playing, they should be able to walk across the board without encountering the glowing barriers.

Corin continued to instruct them in the rules of their movement. As King, Artek could walk in any direction he chose, but only one square at a time. Beckla, acting as the Queen, could also move in any direction. However, she could go as many spaces as she wished. Upon learning of this advantage, she flashed Artek a smug expression. Guss, the Ogre, was informed that he could move as far as he wished along straight lines, but not along a diagonal, which was Muragh's sole ability as Sorcerer. Corin had taken the most difficult role for himself, for a Knight was forced to move in a curious pattern: two squares in a straight line, then one more square to either side.

Once they knew the rules, they were ready to begin.

"It looks like the starting move is up to us," Corin decided. "We're playing from weakness, but that doesn't mean we can't act boldly. King, move one square forward."

Artek stepped from his white starting square onto the black square before him. No magical barrier appeared to block his passage. He let out a sigh of relief.

The moment Artek finished his move, an ethereal figure on the far side of the chamber abruptly began to move. One of the dimly transparent dwarves in the front row-Soldiers, Corin called those pieces-stepped one square forward, then halted, standing as still as before.

"I was afraid of that," Corin said grimly.

"Afraid of what?" Artek asked in growing dread.

"This really is just like a game of lanceboard," the nobleman replied. "Every time one of us moves, one of our opponent's pieces gets to move as well."

Artek shifted uncomfortably on the black square. "Wait a minute, Corin. Isn't the point of this game to capture your opponent's pieces?"

The young lord nodded silently.

"All right," Artek went on. "Then what happens to one of us if we're captured by another piece?"

Corin took a deep breath. "All captured pieces are removed from the gameboard," he said evenly.

The others shivered as the implication of these words registered upon them. A chill danced up Artek's spine, and he licked his lips nervously.
Removed from the gameboard.
It sounded very… final.

"I guess we'll just have to keep from getting captured, won't we?" Artek said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

It was their turn again.

"Sorcerer!" Corin called out. "Diagonal to your left, two squares. Protect your King."

His mandible working furiously, Muragh hopped and rolled into position. As he came to a halt on his square, one of the ghostly Knights leapt the Soldier in front of it and sallied out onto the gameboard. Corin himself moved next, mirroring the enemy Knight's position. The knight moved again. Corin tracked him. This time another Soldier moved forward.

"Ogre, ahead two and challenge!" Corin commanded.

Guss obeyed, lumbering forward toward the middle of the board. One of the opposing Sorcerers drifted menacingly in his direction but could not have captured him anyway, for Guss and the translucent Sorcerer were on opposite colors.

Corin shook his head. "This is difficult with so few pieces. Do you see, Artek? There's a clear diagonal between you and that Sorcerer-and that's the only way he can move. You're in danger now. However, I can move to protect you."

"Wait a minute!" Artek protested. "Won't the Sorcerer be able to capture you then?"

"If so, then our Queen will be able to take him," Corin replied with only a slight quaver in his voice. "We'll have to hope our opponent is not yet ready to sacrifice one of his pieces." Before Artek could argue further, Corin moved two and then one, ending up standing between Artek and the enemy Sorcerer.

Fortunately, Corin's reasoning proved correct. The Sorcerer did not capture Corin. Instead, it moved diagonally back one square, taking itself out of Guss's path.

"Good, we've got our opponent on the retreat," Corin said. "Now is the time to keep pressing forward."

Following Corin's directions, they executed several more moves, making good progress across the board while avoiding the opposing pieces. Then one of the enemy Knights galloped silently forward, lance aimed menacingly at Artek.

Corin let out a sharp laugh. "It seems our opponent grows impatient. The Knight is in your path, Queen, and Ogre is protecting you. Capture him!"

Beckla swallowed hard, straightening her vest. "Here goes nothing," she said dubiously. The wizard steeled her shoulders, then moved boldly forward, stepping onto the same square as the enemy Knight. The Knight lowered its lance toward her, but its horse reared back, opening its mouth in a silent scream. A gout of green fire sprang up from the floor, consuming the Knight as it rose toward the ceiling. A moment later, the magical fire vanished.

Beckla stared at the faint scorch mark on the floor-all that remained of the Knight. "Something tells me we definitely do not want to get captured," she said.

The others could only nod in agreement. They continued to move across the board, but their progress was slower now. Corin was deep in concentration, and sweat beaded on his smooth brow. It was becoming steadily more difficult to avoid capture. Artek took an opposing Soldier, and Guss a Sorcerer-both opposing pieces were consumed by pillars of emerald flame.

"Queen, move two to your left!" Corin called out. Just as Beckla started to step in that direction, the nobleman shouted in alarm. "Wait! Stop!"

Beckla halted, no more than an inch from the edge of her present square.

"I'm sorry," Corin said breathlessly. "You'll be exposed to their Ogre from that position. I didn't see it until it was almost too late."

Corin studied the board again. Seconds stretched into long minutes. The others watched him in growing alarm. The nobleman muttered under his breath, going through move after move in his mind. It seemed he could find none that would not result in capture. Finally, he looked back at Artek, his expression grim.

"I'm afraid we're out of choices. There's only one thing I can think of, and I'm afraid it's a rather risky gambit. If it fails, we're lost."

Artek gazed at him unflinchingly. "I trust you, Corin."

For a moment, it almost seemed a faint smile of gratitude touched the young lord's lips. He nodded. "Very well, then. It's time to gamble our King. Let's just hope they take the bait. King! Ahead one!"

Artek did as instructed. In response, an opposing Soldier moved one square out of the way. In sudden alarm, Artek saw that he was surrounded on three sides. An enemy Knight, Queen, and Ogre were all in position to capture him. It had been his last move. There would be no escaping.

"We've lost," he said, his hopes dying.

"Not yet!" Corin cried out. "It seems you've forgotten the same thing our opponent has." He pointed toward a small yellow object that for some time now had sat unnoticed near the side of the gameboard. "Now, Muragh!"

Grinning toothily, the skull rolled forward, moving in an unobstructed diagonal line-straight toward the enemy King. The ghostly King's mouth opened in a silent cry of surprise and fear, but it could not move aside. Muragh careened directly into the ethereal form. The King's arms spread wide as a blazing column of green fire sprang from the floor beneath its feet. A second later, many more pillars of emerald magic shot toward the ceiling, each consuming one of the remaining enemy game pieces. As suddenly as they had appeared, the columns of fire dissipated-the ghostly figures were no more. Artek stared in wonder. They had won.

With no opposing pieces, all they had to do now was avoid the magical force walls by moving correctly. They made their way swiftly across the gameboard and stepped onto the swath of green marble bordering the far side.

Artek gripped Corin's shoulder. "You did it," he said with a fierce grin.

Corin smiled. "I did, didn't I?" he asked in amazement.

Their jubilation fell into silence as their eyes turned toward the golden door in the wall. It was time to see what waited beyond.

Together they approached the nave. Any thought of one of them going alone had been dismissed without discussion. There was no doorknob, so Artek reached out to push on the door. Just as his fingers brushed the smooth, gold surface, the door swung silently inward. A puff of dry air rushed out, and they stepped into the space beyond.

The chamber was small, with no other doors or openings but the one through which they had entered. The walls and floor were of the same gold-flecked marble as the outer hall. The only furnishings were a table and chair hewn of polished onyx. A male figure sat in the chair, slumped forward over the table. His rich velvet robes had long ago decayed to tatters, and his withered skin clung like old parchment to his yellowed bones. Rotted gray hair drooped over his bony shoulders. It was the last apprentice. And by the look of him, he had died in this room long centuries ago.

Artek shook his head sadly. Had it all been for nothing-the entire perilous game of lanceboard? He didn't know why he was surprised. He really should be getting used to disappointment by now.

"Look," Beckla said softly. "There's something in his hands."

She approached the mummified apprentice and carefully removed an object from the grip of his brittle fingers. It was a small, silver disk with thin writing engraved upon one side. They gathered around Beckla to read the words:

The deeper you go, the deeper I get.

If you jump sideways, you may find me yet.

-H.

Without doubt the
H
at the bottom stood for
Halaster.
Evidently, this riddle was a clue that the mad mage had left behind to help his students find him. Only it seemed this apprentice had died trying.

Artek glanced down at the inky tattoo on his arm. The wheel continued to spin slowly, inexorably. The moon had long passed the arrow, and now the sun drew near. By his best guess, it was no more than an hour until daybreak in the city above, no more than an hour until the tattoo sent out a fatal jolt of magic, stopping his heart forever. For all he knew, the last apprentice had spent centuries trying to solve Halaster's riddle, and without success. Artek doubted they could answer it in a mere hour. He shook his head sadly. The others sighed. There was no need for words. They had run out of apprentices, and out of hope.