Kate Novak - Masquerades

Alias accepted the noble's terms with a nod, but she had to ask, "Lord Victor, if you had some clues, why didn't you contact me?

Victor sheathed his sword. "There was some indication that another noble house was involved, so I thought I had better check it out first, to spare you another incident like yesterday's with the Urdos," the young man explained.

"You shouldn't have come down here alone. You could have been killed!" the swordswoman exclaimed.

"I realize you think of me only as a merchant, but I am capable with a sword and I can take care of myself," Victor replied.

There was a chill in the nobleman's tone that stung Alias like an icy rain. I've offended his pride, she realized, and although she couldn't help think of the awkward way he'd held his sword up only a moment ago, she knew she couldn't bring herself to challenge him. "Victor, this isn't about your being able to take care of yourself," she began carefully. "This is about your life being too important to risk on such a reckless excursion. Your father, the croamarkh, needs you. Westgate needs you." The swordswoman held his eyes with her own and, in a whisper, added,"/ need you."

"How absolutely precious," a harsh whisper echoed through the cavern. "I'd nearly forgotten how amusing mammal love is."

Alias and Dragonbait held their swords up at the alert and wheeled back to back in a long-practiced maneuver. Without discussion they kept Lord Victor between them. Olive ducked quickly into the shadow of the iron statues.

The pool at the far end of the room began to bubble and hiss, and from it rose a great dragon's skull. "Hello, children." The words seemed to come from the dragon's skull. Its tone was mock cheerfulness. "It's good to see you again, even in my reduced circumstances."

It took only moments for all three adventurers to place the voice, but it was Olive who replied first.

"Misty!" the halfling chirped, sheathing her sword and stepping out from the shadows. "Long time!"

"So nice to be remembered," the dragon skull said as the water finished dripping from its sides. "I have not forgotten you either, Mistress Ruskettle. Or you, Champion. Or you, Alias, you red-headed witch."

Alias moved cautiously toward the skull. "Mistinarper-adnacles. You're an ally of the Faceless, aren't you?"

"No, witch. I'm merely a pawn," the dragon skull answered. "Just as is everyone in this city, yourselves included."

Victor stepped forward. "I am no man's pawn, dead thing," the young lord declared.

Mist's laughter rang all about them. "You are one of the biggest pawns of all, Dhostar pup. Pawn to your father, pawn to your ambitions, pawn to your… desires.

"As for you, Alias of the Inner Sea, you are a pawn of the Faceless's. He has plans for you. He will make himself your master." '"

"An evil sorceress, a lich, a fiend from Tarterus, a mad god, and an assassins' guild all tried to master me. All are now dead," Alias retorted.

"True," Mist replied. "If your luck is still as it was, you may defeat the Faceless. I will aid you in exchange for a boon." "What boon, wyrm?" the swordswoman demanded.

"Swear that you will free me from this bondage of my spirit so that I may rest in peace, and I will tell you three of the Faceless's secrets."

"I so swear," Alias agreed. "First. The device that shields the Faceless and the Night Masters from detection. Tell me all you knew of it."

"It sits there on that table," Mist answered, turning so that one eye socket seemed to look at the tree rack hung with the white porcelain masks. "It was crafted by the priests of the temple of Leira, the deceased goddess of illusions, and stolen by the priests of Mask, god of thieves. A doppelganger imitating the Shadowlord of Mask's temple stole it and used it to build the Night Mask guild. The masks must hang there on that rack for a day to recharge their magical powers. Anyone wearing one of the masks for one hour is protected from all magical detection and divination for four days. The Faceless sets them out for the Night Masters to wear just before the meeting they attend every other night so there is no chance of their being discovered. Even the Faceless dons one beneath the coin mask he wears to conceal his features from his own servants, including myself"

"So you don't know who old Faceless is. Too bad," Olive sighed.

"She didn't say that, Olive," Alias replied. "She said the Faceless concealed his features from her. But an old wyrm like you can see with more than her eyes, can't you, Mistinarperadnacles?"

"So true," the dragon said. "Is that the second secret you wish me to reveal?"

Alias hesitated, sensing a trick on the dragon's part. Mist had no love for her. Vengeance might still override her desire for a peaceful death.

"We don't need her to answer that," Victor declared. "All we need to do is destroy these masks-" The young lord yanked a mask from the tree rack. "Victor, no!" Alias shouted. "It could be a trap!"

"Oh, yes," Mist said. "Did I fail to mention the masks must be removed from the rack in a particular order?"

With a shocked look, Victor set the mask back on the tree rack, but it was too late. The floor began to shake as all around the cavern hidden gears and levers of massive proportions began to turn and move. A panel in the workbench slid open and the tree rack containing the masks dropped down into it. An iron gate dropped down over the alcove where the gem-laden amphoras were kept. Larger grates dropped over the walls with the sea chests and weaponry.

Mist laughed. "Oh, dear. It does not look like we shall be able to complete our little transaction after all. Ah, well. I have no regrets, knowing this will be your end. Die well, Alias of the Inner Sea. And fond good-byes to you, Mistress Ruskettle, Champion. Lord Victor, it was a pleasure dealing with you." The dragon skull sank back into the pool.

The level of water in the pool began to rise until it poured over the edge, splashing to the floor. "This doesn't sound good," Olive whispered.

The sound of the gears grinding stopped and there was a moment of relative silence. Then they all heard it: the sound of rushing water, as loud as the ocean itself.

Vast amounts of water began pouring down on the adventurers from the ceiling, extinguishing Olive's lantern. The force of the flow was enough to knock Olive off her feet. Dragonbait grabbed the halfling by her cloak and helped her stand upright.

"We've got to get across the bridge!" Alias shouted. She sheathed her sword and snagged Victor's arm, pulling him toward the stairs to the bridge. Dragonbait splashed behind her with the halfling in tow.

The stairs had become a rushing cascade of water, and Dragonbait's flaming sword was their only light now. The swordswoman was forced to press her hands against both sides of the narrow corridor in order to keep herself upright. She could feel Victor, Dragonbait, and Olive bumping into her from behind. As Alias touched down on the last step, she felt it shift beneath her feet. With a sickening dread, the swordswoman tried planting her feet more firmly on the slick stone, but to no avail.

A wave of water crashed down from the ceiling above the stair, knocking all the adventures off their feet and carrying them at a breakneck speed down the corridor toward the bridge and the sewer.

First Alias could hear the water plunging down into the sewer. Then there was a sense of weightlessness as the current shot her out across the chasm of the sewer. Just as she took a great gulp of air, she had a glimpse of light-Dragonbait's flaming sword. Finally, there came the flesh-bruising impact of her body against the fetid sewer water below.

Alias's lungs were screaming for air before she managed to break the surface and take a gulp of the foul air. The water was flowing faster, fed by the stream from the Faceless's water trap, carrying her with it.