Mel Odom - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

The well bottomed out at nearly forty feet, opening into a final, wide chamber. Baylee stopped ten feet above the rough stone floor and peered around. He had left the bow above, feeling little room would exist to use the weapon. Instead, he was not able to see the sides of the chamber below.

Jaeleen impatiently kicked him in the head.

Baylee reached up and swatted her foot away. Grabbing the string attached to the lamp, he moved it around in a slowly widening circle. The lamplight burned evenly, trapped inside the glass walls.

The dark stone floor seemed to absorb the light except for tiny patches that appeared luminescent. Baylee recognized the green glowing patches as lichens. Presence of the lichens confirmed the occasional presence of water in the well.

The lamp swung nearly fifteen feet across in an elliptical arc. Broken bones and smashed skulls showed yellowed white in the lamplight. Estimating from the number of skulls he was able to see, Baylee knew dozens of people had been thrown into the well over the years. Jaeleen kicked him in the head again.

Wishing he had a third hand so he could strike back, Baylee continued swinging the lamp.

She's worried that you might break her trinket, Xuxa said inside his mind.

Baylee grimaced ruefully, remembering that the azmyth bat's powers provided her a means of communication, even inside the spell of silence.

She won't kick again, Xuxa promised. / told her that you would smash the lamp if she didn't mind her manners.

Thank you. I see nothing moving in here. Can you sense anything?

Nothing living. But that doesn't mean there are no traps.

I know.

The ranger climbed further down the rope, taking up the slack in the string that held the lamp. Nothing appeared to be moving in the chamber. He put his feet on solid rock, then let go the rope.

Jaeleen dropped beside him and reached out to snatch the lamp from Baylee's hand. She turned away from him, casting the light before her and scattering dancing shadows that twisted over the rough surface of the chamber.

The chamber was at least ten feet tall, Baylee decided, and easily three times that in diameter. He took a small torch from his belt pouch and lit it with the flint and steel he had. The sparks ignited the torch and he breathed on it to encourage the flame. The thin, gray smoke curled up toward the open well above.

Holding his torch aloft and spotting the haphazard mound of bones and rotting clothing against the east wall, Baylee thought his companion might be right. Water could have carried the remains against the wall. Jaeleen's lamplight also set fire to the smooth, warm texture of gold within the tangle of ivory limbs.

She reached out and seized a skeletal arm. A worked gold bracelet with inlaid gemstones circled the wrist, loose now that the flesh had been stripped away.

Curious indentations in the bone as Jaeleen moved the limb attracted Baylee's attention. He moved closer, using his own torch. Upon closer inspection, he realized the indentations were teeth marks.

Trollkin are known for their appetites, Xuxa put in. Human flesh is thought of as a delicacy by some.

Baylee knew that was true. He drew back as Jaeleen slipped her captured prize free and dropped it into the pouch at her side. She quickly started shifting the bones, searching for more.

She is a grave-robber, not an explorer, Xuxa sneered.

Baylee moved around the chamber, exploring the perimeters. His breathing was easier as he grew accustomed to the hint of foul stench that clung to the well Jewelry is often taken, he defended. An historian can tell much about the craft of metal-smithing from the way the piece is crafted. And the inscriptions-

Faugh! The things that woman gathers will see only the inside of a merchant's case.

Baylee moved along the chamber. In a few places, faded messages were scratched on the walls with the points of daggers or sharp rocks. Nearly all of the writings were pleas for help, or hopes that others would bury them decently. Some of them were prayers to a handful of deities. Apparently none of them had been answered. It was almost enough to make a man give up religion.

Gifted as he was by native imagination, trained as he had been under Golsway's critical eye and demanding mien, Baylee slipped easily into an understanding of what the poor wreches' last few hours must have been like. Trapped in the throat of the well, some of them perhaps trying to stay afloat, yelling hoarsely till fatigue or their injuries finally took them, despair had undoubtedly filled them.

The feeling was leaden in his mind, making him aware of the thick, still air around him. Dust coated his exposed skin now, and perspiration cut rivulets through it. With effort, he pushed the feelings from him. His affinity for getting the sense of places and things had always stood him well. But it was a two-edged sword because those feelings could overwhelm him if he wasn't careful.

Without warning, the sound of rattling bones came to the ranger's ears. He turned back toward Jaeleen, in the direction the sound had come from. She was prying a pouch from under a tangle of bodies. The skin it had been crafted of had split in two areas, revealing a few silver pieces.

Baylee's senses came on full alert. Something had broken the spell of silence. Jaeleen halted her efforts to get the bag, though she did not relinquish it. Crouched down, she turned her head to look at the ranger over her shoulder. "Baylee?"

Before he could think to frame an answer, movement exploded from the pile of skeletons in front of the woman, hurling bones whirling madly in all directions. A predator's wail of triumph filled the chamber.

Baylee caught Jaeleen's shoulder and yanked her back as the shaggy creature rose from the pile of skeletons. The ranger pulled the woman with him as he retreated across the chamber. His torch and Jaeleen's lamp threw uncertain light across the thing that pursued them.

It stood over sk feet tall and had been a big man in life. It was emaciated now, even for one of its kind. The grayish skin stretched tight over the bone structure, making the face appear blocky and misshapen. Wild hair alternately curled tight to the scalp and jutted out in unruly tufts. Dark circles shuttered the narrow eyes fired by unreasoning hunger. A long, thick tongue flicked out from between crooked, elongated teeth. The dry mouth cracked as it opened, and the sound of the tongue passing over the thirst-bloated lips rasped through the chamber. Clothing hung from the creature in shreds, scarcely covering the pallid body.

What is it? Xuxa called. Her telepathic ability didn't allow her to see through his eyes.

A ghoul, Baylee replied as he looked around the scattered bones for a weapon he could use. Ghouls were very dangerous, and fighting one in such close quarters was not a good plan.

The creature moved slowly, its joints and sinews snapping and popping with the effort. Evidently it had been in the well for a long time, probably drawn by the scent of decay. Once in, it had been unable to scale the walls and get back out.

Jaeleen brought her hand crossbow up and fired a bolt into the ghoul's face.

The bolt thudded into the ghoul's cheek with the sound of a knife splitting into an over-ripe melon. Stuck there, the bolt shoved its way between the creature's jaw, wedging it open and exposing the sharp teeth inside through the gaping flap of skin. There was little blood. Baylee guessed that the creature had been near the end of its unnatural life at the time they had entered the well.

The wound also unleashed a noxious odor.

The ghoul roared with rage, struggling to get the cry out of its parched lips and past the embedded bolt. Pausing, swaying uncertainly, it reached up and ripped the feathered shaft free. It threw the bolt aside and charged.