Paul Kemp - Realms of War

"Your turn, Druid."

Jaeriko walked over to the water. It worried her to place so much stock in the word of a man who had tricked her into leading him to Maze's house so that he could force them both into his employment, but she had little else to go on. The general told them that this river fed the cistern in the ruined citadel the General of Arrabar had holed up in. Provided he was right, a simple spell and an uncomfortable, wet time later and they should find themselves both within the citadel and undetected. Getting out undetected with the boy in tow would prove more difficult-but they'd tackle that problem when they came to it.

Reaching inside her doeskin jerkin, Jaeriko pulled out a locket. Reverently, she kissed it; the gold was cool against her lips. Then her fingers worked the catch, and it sprang open to reveal a sprig of mistletoe-her conduit to the spirits of nature. She spun the green sprig between her fingers.

"This will not be pleasant," Jaeriko warned Maze.

"Get on with it," Maze said. It was not as though they had a choice.

"Get in the water."

Maze complied, twisting her face as the water seeped under her leather. She ducked her head under the water and came back up gasping with cold.

"Keep your eyes closed and your limbs close until you feel air on your skin," the druid instructed. "The river's bargain allows you to breathe underwater, but it doesn't protect you from the dangers of underground water travel."

"Right, right," Maze said, but her teeth were already chattering.

"See you on the other side," Jaeriko said. Rubbing the mistletoe between her fingers, Jaeriko closed her eyes. Sister River, listen to me. . Words ripped through her and off her tongue like lightning, burning away the instant her mind touched them. A loud, rushing, siren song filled her ears, and the smell of salt filled her nostrils-then all was quiet. She opened her eyes to see five red gashes open on each side of Maze's neck like cuts from a tiger's claws. The woman fell into the water, the red gashes fluttered open and closed, and bubbles of air escaped Maze's nose. Jaeriko held her breath for Maze as the woman waved, then let the powerful undertow sweep her away.

Moments later, Jaeriko joined her.

Air washed across Jaeriko's face and she gulped in breath blindly. Searching for something to hold onto, her fingers swept up and closed around something slick and unforgiving. She opened her eyes-bars. The cistern had a grate covering its mouth, and the bars were encrusted with slime. The water was damn cold. Goose bumps rose along her exposed skin as the wind swept across again, raising a low moan from both her and the cistern. Already Jaeriko's arms ached from cold and forced use.

She heard a splash and a gasp and saw two eyes blink back at her in the darkness. Maze.

"Holy Hells," Maze panted. "I never want to have to do that again." A frown furrowed the woman's brow, and her fingers searched along the bars. "Gods be damned. I could deal with a lock, but there isn't even a door. What in the Nine Hells am I supposed to do with this?" She grabbed the grate in both hands and shook it angrily. It didn't budge.

"Shhh!" Jaeriko said. "They'll hear you!" The last thing she wanted to see was a ghoul's ghastly, flesh-torn face glaring at them from the other side of that grate. She could well imagine the spears and arrows that would follow.

"Bring them on," Maze whispered, but then she gritted her teeth and held her tongue.

Jaeriko breathed out a sigh of relief. It was hard enough to think with the icy water muddying her thoughts-trying to come up with any sort of way out with an irate assassin screaming in her ear was too much. Her fingers traveled automatically to the locket at her neck. Fire of the heavens, what was she to do now?

Jaeriko's eyes traveled the breadth of the grate. The whole contraption was essentially a stone opening to an underground river that had a grate tacked over it, probably to prevent intrepid intruders such as themselves from entering. There had been little to no modification to the natural stone at all, in fact … The fingers of her free hand traced the unworked stone as the other hand held the grate. A wild thought took root in her head, and she prayed it wasn't the cold speaking.

"Maze, hold me up," Jaeriko demanded.

"What?"

"Just do it." What felt like a band of iron wrapped around her waist, and Jaeriko felt Maze's breath against the shell of her ear.

"Hurry-I can't hold you for long."

Furrowing her brow, Jaeriko clasped one hand to her locket. She brought it to her lips. She didn't dare open it over the water-she hoped she didn't need that strength. Fear ran through her mind scattering her thoughts. The cold was ruining her concentration. With her free hand, she massaged their prisons stone circumference. Father stone, wake up, she thought, please listen. Stone was not her first choice of a medium. It was hard to read, harder to please, and the hardest to keep lip a conversation with.

Just as she thought the stone would never answer, just as she felt Maze's arms weaken around her waist and saw the assassin's head begin to loll, she felt the fire of the stone's answer tear through her. Her fingers pushed through the stone and pulled a dollop of it away to rub between her fingers like clay. She shuddered with relief, and hit Maze's shoulders with her palms. "Let me down! All we have to do is push the grate up-it should move easily, at least for now."

Maze fixed her with an appraising glance. "You're more useful than you let on."

Jaeriko was unable to fully appreciate Maze's comment as her body quavered and shook. It was as though all of her heat had been consumed in that one spell.

"Just get us out of here," Jaeriko managed, her teeth chattering and clashing on every syllable. Maze nodded and let the water close over her head as she sank to the bottom of the cistern. Then, with a powerful push of her legs, Maze slammed out of the water and into the grate. It resisted initially but then pulled free of the softened stone with a wet pop. Hand-over-hand, Maze pushed the grate to one side of the cistern.

Pumping her legs, Jaeriko pushed herself up to the opening of the cistern and dug her fingers into the clay. She felt the water rush by her legs as Maze did the same. With agonizing slowness, she pulled herself up just enough to see where they had landed themselves.

A single light smoldered like a fallen star stuck in a white fang of a tower. It struck her as strange-how were the general's soldiers to stand guard with so little illumination? Then her eyes adjusted, and she saw the broken and malformed shapes that hunched like gargoyles along the walls. The undead required no light-nor sustenance other than that which can be garnered from a battlefield. They were the perfect soldiers.

A hiss of breath stirred the hair on the back of Jaeriko's neck; then a hand pushed her under the icy water. She heard the clang of metal on stone as the grate was shoved back in place-or almost back in place. Kicking and pulling at the hand tangled in her hair, Jaeriko struggled to catch sight of her attacker. Dark eyes met hers with a warning, and she stopped fighting. The hand let go of her hair and together, Maze and Jaeriko looked up through the distortion of the water.

A pale shape skittered forward, its limbs moving with unnatural speed and a total absence of grace. When it came to the grate it jerked to a halt and stood as still as stone. Lungs burning, Jaeriko began to panic. If she couldn't get to the surface soon, she would not live long enough to be killed. Just as it seemed the creature would never move again, it shuddered, and its head snapped in their direction.

Jaeriko bit back a gasp. The flesh had rotted on the left side of its face, baring white jaws and missing teeth. A rip in the skin under its eye socket shone like a red tear over which stared dispassionate eyes the color of old milk. It stood stiller than life above the grate, its old armor hanging off it like fat off a bone, looking-expressionless-at them. If it had been alive, Jaeriko would have sworn it had seen them and that their death would shortly follow, but after another lung-searing moment it took off in the same swift, broken gait as before.