First the demon with the glowing blue eye and now this. What could it possibly mean?
Moira didn’t hope, for hope had long since burned out of her. But she felt a stirring. Whatever was going on couldn’t be good for her captors and misfortune to them was as much as she dared wish for.
With a faint “pop” an Emac appeared in front of Wiz, so close he almost stumbled over the demon in his pacing.
“We have found her, Master! RDsquaresquare has found her.”
“Thank God! Where?”
“Underground master, far and deep underground. The coordinates are . . .”
Wiz waved the small brown demon to silence. “Show me in the bowl!”
The demon removed the quill from behind his ear and dipped the point in the water. Ink flowed from the pen, turning the clear water black and then shimmering as the image formed. Wiz looked intently at it and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Have we got a good enough fix?”
The Emac cocked his bald brown head and his huge ears quivered as he listened to something unhearable. “Yes, Master. We can come within a few cubits of the place.”
“Then come with me.” Wiz strode to the door, grabbing his oak staff and wrapping his cloak tighter as he stepped into the outdoor chill.
“Wait, Lord.”
Wiz turned and saw Donal and Kenneth arrayed for battle. Their mail hauberks hung to their knees and their greaves and vambraces were secure to their limbs. Donal’s great sword was over his shoulder and Kenneth’s bow was slung across his back. Both wore their open-faced helms and their mail coifs were laced tight.
“You’re not going,” Kenneth said. “Not alone.”
“I have to.” Wiz told him.
“Bal-Simba told us to guard you and guard you we shall,” said Donal.
Wiz shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Look, I appreciate the idea, but you can’t come.”
“Stubborn,” said Donal.
“Too stubborn,” said Kenneth. “You look, Sparrow. Someone has to keep your back while you’re making magic.”
“My magic can do that for me.”
“Unlikely,” said Kenneth.
“Take them, Sparrow,” Shiara put in from the hut’s door. “You may need them.”
“It’s dangerous,” Wiz warned again. “You might get . . .” He cast his eyes over their well-used armor and weapons and trailed off. Both men looked at him in grim amusement. “Uh . . . right.”
“It is Bal-Simba’s wish,” said Kenneth simply.
Wiz sighed. “Very well. Stand close to me and I’ll see if I can make this thing work.”
Donal and Kenneth pressed in against his back and he shifted his grip on the staff.
Wiz drew a deep, shuddering breath, filling his lungs with the cold, sweet air of Heart’s Ease. He looked around slowly at the place he had come to call home. Then he tightened his grip on the staff and began.
“backslash” he said to the Emac. “$” the Emac responded, now ready and waiting for orders. “transport” he said and the Emac began to gabble silently translating the predefined macro spell into the words of power. “arg moira” He raised the staff high over his head as the air began to waver and twist around him. “EXE” he shouted.
And the world went dark.
Something’s gone wrong!
Wiz thought frantically. It’s not supposed to be like this! His arms quivered from the strain of holding the heavy staff high. He could feel Donal and Kenneth pressing hard against his back and hear their breathing, but still the darkness did not lift. Then he shifted slightly and his staff scraped against something overhead, showering him with noisome dirt. He nearly laughed aloud as he realized that this darkness was simply the absence of light.
He pointed with his staff. “backslash light exe” he said, and a blue glow lit the world around him. All three blinked and looked about.
They were in a tunnel so narrow they could not pass abreast. The rough flagged floor was slippery with condensation and the air was close and foul with the odors of earth and decay. About ten yards in either direction the tunnel twisted away, hiding what was beyond. Wiz could see four or five low wooden doors bound strongly with iron set into the walls along this section of the corridor.