Erik de Bie - Depths of Madness

"Chaos?" Liet asked. "What-?"

"There are certain forces in this world you should not know about," Twilight said. "That no sane mortal would want to know about."

"But you do," Liet argued.

She conceded that with a nod. "A race that was old when the elves were young," said Twilight. "Mighty spellweavers before Corellon's tears conceived the first elves-children of the primal chaos that came before the gods themselves."

Her voice took on a mystical quality, as though she recounted the memories of a pleasant childhood or a beautiful, half-forgotten summer. Liet could almost fall asleep into dark dreams, listening to that lovely, haunting voice.

"Sharn is simply what men call them, though in truth that is only a fantasy. They are an ancient, mighty race, but not one that most would deal with lightly-not even gods." Her eyes darkened, and Liet heard a second meaning. "Which would be wise. A creature born of such disorder cannot be trusted."

Liet Sagrin shivered, and not just with fear.

"Why do you follow me?" Twilight asked later as she clicked open a lock. "I told you to stay with the others. You have a habit of disobedience."

"Why do we camp at a crossroads?" Liet asked.

The heavy door sighed when Twilight pressed on it. She gestured, and Liet helped her push it open. The door growled in protest but opened. The plain chamber within was empty but for refuse-shattered wood chips, broken ceramics, worn statuettes-and ancient dust. Footprints, distinctly those of a lizard's feet, traced a path through the chamber to an open portal across the room, but the prints were old. She wished she were a tracker, and might have known how old.

She pulled a torch from her pack. Liet grinned until she shoved it at him. No reason she had to carry it-she had darksight.

"I asked you first," she said.

"I'm sure 'tis the same answer."

"Guaranteed escape route?" Twilight asked simply.

"I thought you only, ah, appreciated the concept," he said sheepishly. "Of a crossroads, I mean. That's not-you know-the same answer, or anything."

"Well, we all derive our chuckles in some manner," Twilight said. "I enjoy frustrating young lads much, much more."

Liet let that one go. "But your reason doesn't make sense," he said. "Camping at a crossroads, that is. Foes can come from any direction, even from behind."

"Yes, but they would have to be quite organized to come at us from all three," she said. "Something I have a feeling might be beyond the average demon-touched."

"What of hiding?" Liet rubbed at his hidden arms, nervous.

"I've always ascribed to the 'fleeing' school of thought, rather than the 'hiding,' " Twilight said. "If someone's searching as determinedly as I'm used to being searched for, hiding doesn't do any good." She left it at that.

"I see." Liet looked around the dusty chamber, straining his eyes in the flickering torchlight. "Where are we, anyway?"

Though the place was empty of creatures, shelves, books, or anything besides the rubble along the walls, Twilight could detect traces of the magic that must have been used there. She imagined it must have been a library or laboratory, long defaced by lizardfolk, smashed by golems, or worse.

"Wizard's sanctum," said Twilight. "Long abandoned."

"How can you be-?"

"I'm sure," she said. "There's nothing here. Go back. I'll be along shortly."

Twilight inspected the yawning doorway. A series of runes lightly etched into the stone radiated magic. A stone barrier had once existed there, but it had long ago become rubble, though the ward remained. Likely, thanks were owed to the lizards. Beyond, the corridor stretched into empty darkness.

Twilight was disappointed, to be honest. After a day spent avoiding battle like a scourge, she dearly wished for the opportunity to bloody Betrayal. The companions hadn't engaged any of the roving lizardmen in the tunnels-it would have been a waste of resources. And they could ill afford to stumble upon a golem, so they'd been very cautious.

She looked again at the portal wards. Twilight considered dealing with them, but thought better of it. Any foe coming the other way would trigger them-no purpose making ambush easier for one's enemies. She could always disarm them the next day.

Twilight wondered if they would go this way, anyway.

During their exploration, she had found two unblocked passages-tunnels that went east and north from their resting chamber, both of which led up. One ended in an old, dust-covered stairs ascending-the same stairs that had led her to the wizard's sanctum. The other stopped at a trapdoor above, with the remains of an old ladder.

Typical, Twilight thought. To search an entire labyrinth for days on end for a way out, only to find not one but two exits in close proximity. It seemed like something he would do to her.

"Come to think of it," she whispered. "You probably did, eh, N'tanathil?"

"Huh?"

"Pay it no-" Twilight turned. "You're still here."

"Aye, indeed," said Liet, leaning against the wall.

Twilight bit her lip.

She crossed back to the entrance of the chamber and stalked down the corridor to their camp-or more accurately, to the place where she had chosen to rest. She would take Reverie-or the human sleep, as would likely be the case-ten paces up the passage from the others, around a corner. Here, she could find the privacy she craved. Unless, of course, the boy insisted on following her.

Which he did. When she stopped, he stopped as well. Liet's face told Twilight he wanted to speak, but an awkward silence hung between them.

She decided to break the tension. "Is there some way I can assist you?" She was unable-and unwilling-to keep the suggestiveness out of her tone.

"N-nothing like that," Liet said. "I just wanted to know what-"

"N'tanathil is, in the trade tongue, my old 'uncle nemesis,' " said Twilight. "And believe me, if you knew the dastard like I do, you'd agree with the sentiment." She stripped off her glove and began unlacing her boots. "But you didn't come to debate the subtleties of linguistics, I would guess. So what is it?"

Liet turned as she doffed her boots and went to work on her breeches' strings. Her tendency to eschew modesty made him nervous, just as Twilight intended.

"I was just thinking," he said. "About Taslin."

"Pining for a lady, and not me? I'm shocked." She gave a grand sigh and put a hand to her forehead.

Liet whirled angrily. "No, no, 'tis not like…" His eyes widened at both her loosened clothes and her words, and he gaped.

Twilight finally snickered. "Well, boy," she said. "Speak, if you will."

Liet swallowed. " 'Tis about Asson. He… 'Twas he that persuaded us to come back for you. I wanted to, but I didn't have the courage to stand up to Davoren-not really, not without Asson. But that old man…"

Twilight wondered if that was the truth.

Soothed by the cold stone beneath her bare feet, she spoke without looking at Liet. "Don't take it so hard," she said as she unlaced her blouse. "We all fear death. Old Bones is a hard one to face-and an atrocious dancer besides."

After giving her an odd look-probably wondering what she could possibly mean-Liet turned halfway. "No, 'twas not that, either," he said. "I…" He paused and fidgeted. "My apologies. I should go." He started down the tunnel, heading toward the others.

Now it was Twilight's turn to gaze oddly. His words said one thing, his actions a second, and his eyes a third. She caught a glimmer in his face, as though through a crack in armor. Twilight's perception cut right through his humble, self-deprecating exterior, and what she found there startled and excited her.

He understood.

Twilight had always been too direct for her own good. "You really would have died for us."