Shadow Blizzard (16 page)

There were broad decorative friezes running along the walls of the corridor, with stone gargoyles, each twice the height of a man, grinning down at me. The sculptor had created a set of brutes who were absolutely identical—they all had heads in the form of human skulls and unnaturally long hands with three fingers. The gargoyles were leaning over the corridor, looking for all the world as if one of them would come to life and jump down. I suddenly had an idea that just might work.

I leapt up onto the frieze, flung one leg over a gargoyle’s thigh, heaved myself up, grabbed the statue’s neck, and hid between its back and the wall of the corridor.

A magnificent spot. In the first place, the men chasing me were not likely to look up. In the second place, they couldn’t see me, and, in the third place, I had a fine view of everything.

For a second I thought the gargoyle’s stone back trembled slightly. It was absolute nonsense, of course—in that blue murk you could imagine seeing anything. I took the crossbow out from behind my back and waited for my guests.

After about ten long, but far from tedious seconds my pursuers appeared. Count Balistan Pargaid had sent four soldiers after me and these lads didn’t look any different from the other two who had got lost in the maze of the second level. Just as I expected, the lads didn’t even bother to look round. They were putting all their energy into yelling and waving their swords about. The four of them ran past my hiding place, howling triumphantly, and disappeared into the blue haze. Well, I thought I’d sit there for a while and wait until they got tired of running and then clear off.

How brilliantly Lafresa had fooled me! But it was my own fault for underestimating a dangerous enemy. After all, I knew how important she was to the Master’s intrigues, and you’d be hard put to find another sorceress to match her anywhere. No wonder the woman had managed to find the way to the Doors and avoid the traps and also prepare a pleasant welcome for me. I couldn’t imagine how she’d guessed I would reach the Doors, too, but the Master’s servant had certainly made the right decision.

Without the Key, Lafresa wasn’t able to open the Doors, so the only thing she could do was wait until the blockhead who was bound to the artifact opened them for her. I’d done exactly what she expected, and then Balistan Pargaid’s men had swung into action, thirsting for my blood. Yes, there was a faint scent of strawberries in the air near the Doors, that was what had been bothering me, but I hadn’t taken any notice, and if not for the magical Key …

A long, appalling howl of pain and terror rang down the corridor and I hiccupped in surprise. A hesitant moment of silence, and then another choking scream. And another. The hair on my head stirred and stood up on end. I pressed myself against the gargoyle’s back as hard as I could and tried to dissolve into thin air.

“Save me, Sagra! Save me, Sagra! A-a-agh! Save me, Sagra!”

A man came dashing out of the haze, screaming—one out of the four who had just been chasing me.

The man tossed his sword away and went dashing back toward the Hall of the Doors, calling on Sagra to help him. As usually happens, the goddess of war didn’t heed his call. But someone else did. A gargoyle on the wall opposite me turned its head toward the soldier’s howls.

At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me in the strange light, but then the fingers on the long hands moved, the shoulders twitched, and, just as the man was running past the gargoyle, the stone monster leapt down nimbly off the frieze, landing on the man with all its weight.

Crunch!

The lad never even knew what hit him. The monster picked the body up by the legs with its long hands, swung hard, and smacked the dead man’s head against the frieze. There was a sound like a nut cracking and a dark spot appeared on the stone. The gargoyle went back to its usual place and froze in the same position as before, suddenly transformed into lifeless stone again. As if the terrible scene I had just witnessed had never even happened.

I tried to calm my wildly pounding heart, but that was more than I could manage. May Sagot save me, I couldn’t take my eyes off the monster that had just killed a man! But the beast was absolutely still now; it gave no signs of life at all.

Ah, but you won’t fool me like that anymore!

The back of the gargoyle I was hiding behind trembled slightly again. But no, I imagined it.… Or did I? I stopped breathing. The head on the stone neck slowly started moving.…

I jumped down and ran as hard as I could for the Hall of the Doors, and somewhere behind me there was a gargoyle awakening from a long sleep. Of course, I hadn’t bothered to wait for the unpleasant moment when the stone monster would be fully awake. I just ran for it before it could grab me.

Whoo-oosh … Whoo-oosh … Whoo-oosh …

The little blue lamps turned into long blurred streaks. I was running in the opposite direction now. Darkness take Lafresa and Balistan Pargaid and his men! I’d break through one way or another! In the Hall of the Doors at least I had some kind of chance, with just a little bit of luck and the factor of surprise, but if I ran the other way, I was a dead certainty for the light. And another foolish idea came to mind, too—if I could just get to the Doors, the gargoyle could easily turn his precious attention to one of Pargaid’s men and forget about me.

The rasping of stone talons rang along the corridor. There was something big and very unfriendly chasing me. I stepped up the pace to avoid ending up in its stony embrace.

A gargoyle standing ahead of me stretched and clambered down off the frieze, but I had already gone flying past before this latest animated spawn of darkness could gather its wits. The end of the corridor was close now, but my way was blocked by a third stone monster, standing straight ahead of me, with blazing blue coals for eyes. To stop now would have been quite unforgivably stupid, so I dropped to the floor like a stone and slid across the marble slabs on my stomach, skidding between the ugly beast’s legs. I don’t think it even realized what was happening.

I jumped up and ran for it, and heard a terrible crash behind me as the monster who was chasing me smashed straight into his friend—the one I had slid under so smartly.

The glowing floor in front of the Doors. The dark depths of the hall. And nobody there. Just as I thought: Balistan Pargaid hadn’t bothered to wait for his men to finish me off. He’d gone on to the third level, since a certain idiot had kindly opened the Doors for him.

I heard a stifled wail of frustration from the corridor and turned round.

Several statues that had come to life were standing on the threshold between the corridor and the Hall of Doors. They stared at me in helpless fury for a second, then turned and tramped away.

I grunted in relief and tried to catch my breath. No wonder the dead guardsman’s book had said that blue light brought death.

Kli-Kli had warned me; in fact, he had often made fun of me, saying that if I survived the Palaces of Bone, my best memories would be of running. First from one beast. Then from another. And another.

I missed the moment when the Doors started to close. It happened without a sound, and when I did look at the magical gates, they had already moved a quarter of the way together.

I certainly couldn’t hang around any longer. I went dashing toward the barrier, feverishly trying to spot the figure of the elf in whose hand I had left the Key. The Doors carried on implacably closing.

Darkness! I needed the Key! Egrassa would tear my head off if I came back without the elfin relic!

Darkness! Darkness! Darkness! Darkness! May a demon of the abyss eat my brains!

The elf’s hand was absolutely empty! That infernal Lafresa had taken the artifact!

But this was no time to hurl curses at the heavens—there was only a narrow gap left between the Doors, and I had to make a dash for it. Otherwise I’d have to gnaw a hole through the Doors with my teeth.

I made it.

The danger of being crushed by the closing Doors sharpened my wits and I slipped through and out the other side like a cork out of a bottle of sparkling wine.

The gates came together soundlessly behind me, putting an end to any chance of going back. Now I would have to take the Key from Lafresa (which was unlikely) or make my way through the abyss of horror and find another way out (which was even less likely). There was only one way I could go now—forward. And I had to keep on going in the hope that some kind soul would deal with the witch and take the Key off her body.

I leaned back against the smooth black surface and gazed into darkness. Right in front of the Doors there was still a faint glimmer of light, but beyond that …

Thirty paces away I couldn’t see a thing. Just dense, velvety darkness. I was standing on a faintly lit granite platform that was slightly wider than the Doors and about fifteen paces across.

The entire platform was littered with bones. On the left and the right the floor merged into the walls of a cave that receded into impenetrable gloom. I couldn’t see any ceiling, it was too high, monstrously high, and completely invisible without any bright light. The platform broke off at jagged edges with an empty void beyond. It looked as if the Doors had released me into some unbelievably huge natural cave that the builders of Hrad Spein had discovered many thousands of years before.

The third level was a lot lower than the spot where I was standing, and the way to it ran across a stone bridge that began at the magical doors and ended somewhere
out there
. I had to walk through the cave across the bridge.

Not a very encouraging prospect, especially bearing in mind that the bridge was only four paces wide and it didn’t have railings. And if I was careless enough to fall off, I could keep on falling until I died of hunger.

An untimely fit of curiosity made me pick up something that used to be someone’s arm bone and toss it into the abyss. I immediately regretted this fleeting impulse—who knew what creatures I might disturb? But even though I regretted it, I didn’t forget to count; at least I could find out how deep this bottomless cave really was. I gave up at ninety-three, realizing that I wouldn’t hear anything anyway, even if the bone landed. It was already too far away for the sound to reach my ears.

It was more than fifteen minutes since the Doors had closed. I had to get moving and for the time being abandon all thoughts about how I would get back out.

All I was doing right now was just spinning things out, trying to put off setting foot on that bridge. I would have bet a gold piece that it was longer than an ogre’s life, but I couldn’t see any supports underneath it. What was holding all that weight up? What magic had transformed the stone into a path?

And then again, the servants of the Master could still be quite close, and running into them on a platform only four paces wide could be fatal. Lafresa, Balistan Pargaid, Paleface, and a dozen men into the bargain. I thought how delighted they would be to see me. But then, if I let them get away, lost sight of them in the maze of palaces and halls, I could forget all about the Key. And any chance of ever getting out of here and back up into the sunshine. No thinking was needed! I had to act! How did that verse riddle go on?

And then, carry on! The twin doors stand open

To the peace of the halls of the Slumbering Whisper.

Where the brains of man and elf and orc alike

Dissolve in unreason.… And so shall yours.

An encouraging prospect, especially bearing in mind that the Doors were anything but open, and to reach the Halls of the Slumbering Whisper I still had to travel for days across a thin thread of stone stretched between the darkness and the abyss.

I cast hesitation aside, lit one of my lights, stepped onto the bridge, and walked on.

Trying to walk along the center and not look down, I held the little magical lamp at arm’s length and hoped that the light in the darkness would not attract unwelcome attention from unfriendly individuals who might happen to inhabit this place.

The road was as straight as a bowstring and easy to walk along; I just had to forget about where I was and keep away from the edge.

Silence and darkness. Darkness and silence. How could you ever describe the Palaces of Bone, if the words “darkness” and “silence” and “half-light” were thrown out of the language?

You couldn’t. Because Hrad Spein
is
the darkness of subterranean catacombs, the silence of ancient tombs, and the half-light in the gloomy halls that are sometimes lit in mysterious ways.

My little light struggled to keep the gloom at bay, illuminating the bridge for seven paces ahead and seven paces behind. But there wasn’t enough light, and I felt like a little bug stuck in a demon’s pocket. The bridge had a very slight incline, and I gradually moved lower and lower.

Far, far ahead of me a series of dense white flashes flared up in rapid succession. From where I was they looked like the blinking of a white-hot grain of sand. But that was quite enough to make me stop and put both hands round the magical light to make quite sure that it wouldn’t be seen.

Another sequence of whitish sparks—they were more than a thousand yards away. I gazed into the gloom for three long, weary minutes, but no more flashes came. Whatever Lafresa had been up to over there (I was certain this was one of her tricks), it was all over now.

I sat down with my legs crossed and waited for another ten minutes just to be on the safe side. A perfectly reasonable precaution—I didn’t want the Master’s servants to suspect anything; let them think I was still stuck on the other side of the Doors.

After that I wasn’t at all afraid the men would see the light—the distance between me and Balistan Pargaid’s brigade was too great, and my little light and Lafresa’s magical flashes, were like a glowing ember and a forest fire.