Erik de Bie: Depths of Madness

She straightened and sound returned. "Anyone else in there?"

"Nope!" Slip said. "Just me!"

"Very well," Twilight said. "Come with us. We're organizing an escape. But quietly-our guard may be a light sleeper."

"Yes, Mistress!" Slip shouted. When the elf gave her an icy look, she lowered her voice. "Yes, Mistress. Whatever you command, I obey. My life and body are yours."

Liet reddened and Twilight rolled her eyes. What a child. "Good."

She handed Slip the key ring. "Open the other cells and gather all the prisoners. That"-she pointed down the main corridor, away from Tlork's chamber, toward a wide room that might once have been a guard station-"will do quite well."

The halfling gave her the widest of grins and scampered off.

"Just like that?" Liet blinked. "Why trust her?"

Twilight shrugged. "Why not trust her?" she asked. "After all, I own her life and body, as you noted in such manly fashion."

"N-nay." Liet's face went red. "I didn't-I meant, why'd you give her the keys?"

Twilight plucked up her shard of iron. "The Hells I'm going through that again."

In wonder, Liet watched the black-haired elf work.

Eyes closed, she knelt before a heavy lock, fingers twisting and prying with the shard of iron. Every so often, she laid her fingers gently upon the lock's surface and paused. Then she would press her ear against the door, peering up at the lock from below.

He realized he hadn't looked at the elf closely, up until this moment. It was not necessarily a beautiful face, but a certain edge caught his mind as he looked upon her and her image bounced back and forth in his mind, unwilling to leave. She had skin like alabaster and features delicate as porcelain, and her hair seemed so black as to be almost blue. He found that he couldn't identify the color of her eyes-gray, blue, green… it depended upon the light.

She appeared calm-peaceful. If Liet hadn't breathed the stagnant air, felt the freezing stone under his feet, and heard the great snores filtering down the corridor, he would have forgotten where he was entirely. "Ah, Twilight? I-"

"Silence, please," she said.

"But you let that Slip talk as much as she wanted-about nothing."

"That was Slip." Twilight adjusted the iron, wedging it against something unseen in the lock. "You can be silent."

"But why?"

"Three reasons," Twilight said. "One, so you don't wake up the troll. Two, because this isn't a silent cell, like Slip's was." She focused on the lock.

After a pause, Liet coughed nervously. "And the third?"

"Because I hate you," she said brightly.

The lock clicked open. Twilight shifted and stood without using her arms, then put her hand to the oddly curved handle. She hesitated.

"On second thought," she said. "You do it."

"Me?" Liet put his hand on it without thought, brushing hers. "Why?" he asked.

Twilight merely smiled, stepped behind him, and allowed him to open the door.

An upright palm emerged and struck him full in the chin. He staggered, and his attacker followed, dashing him to the ground. A yellow knee settled on his throat, and green eyes with golden spots burned down at him. Liet gasped and squirmed.

An iron shard slipped around his attackers throat. "Ah-ah," Twilight said. The eyes widened at its sound. "That one's mine."

Then Twilight hissed and wrenched herself aside just before a shaft of wood could fall on her skull. It merely clipped her temple as she rolled. She kicked out and knocked her attacker to the ground. He gasped raggedly.

"Asson!" The weight vanished from atop Liet, leaving him sputtering, and the woman-for so she was, a lithe, golden-skinned woman-leaped to her companion's side. The human man was old and weak, and he coughed as he settled into her protective arms.

"We…" Liet coughed into the floor. "We aren't your enemies…"

The golden woman looked at Twilight, who stared as though startled by her golden hair or perhaps just dazed. The features were different but just as delicate. An elf, Liet realized as he gazed, fascinated.

"We thought you were our captors, come to torture us." She narrowed her eyes, as though still uncertain, then glanced at the old man, concern in her eyes.

This broke her hold over them both.

Twilight got to her knees. Her fingers probed gently at the blood trickling down her cheek. "We're here to release you… unless you'd prefer torture." Liet's jaw dropped, until he saw her smile.

"We owe you amends, then," the golden elf said. "I am Taslin, and this is my husband, Asson." The old man waved weakly. "I am a priestess of Corellon Larethian, though my prayers could not reach him in that place." She gestured at the cell. "Asson is very sick. I would use my remaining strength to heal him rather than your wounds."

Liet stood stunned. Twilight merely waved with acceptance. "As you will." She pointed down the corridor. "We shall meet in that chamber, when you can."

The golden elf nodded and turned her eyes on Liet, where he sat, dumb. The youth mumbled something he hoped was agreement. Taslin began chanting tenderly.

Something nudged Liet in the ribs. There was Twilight, eyeing him in something like exasperation. He rose with the aid of her hand. "What's the matter?" he asked.

Twilight just rolled her eyes and pulled him away.

Liet knew he'd never understand yet always admire two things: elves and women.

"How goes it, little one?"

In response, the lock clicked under Slip's delicate touch and the door to the fourth cell swung open. The halfling turned. "I don't like it here," she said. "It's dark."

"Yes," Twilight said. Her aching head was muddy. "You and Liet go…" She frowned at the boy. "Well, take Liet and go free the others."

"What?" Liet's face went ashen.

"Yes, Mistress!" Slip nodded, didn't look at Liet, and scampered toward the last door, the one farthest from Twilight's original cell.

"Wait," Twilight said. She bent her face to the door and inhaled a familiar scent. Through the small window, the darkness in the cell was impenetrable, and she sensed nothing within. It blocked her magical sight. Somehow, though, she sensed eyes-eyes that stared at her from a hair's breadth distant. Not pleasant.

She looked back. Liet was massaging his neck and Slip was staring up at him, as though trying to place him. Twilight shrugged that oddness away-the halfling did not seem exactly normal for her kind.

"No-you collect this one." She lifted the ring of keys. "I'll go free the last."

The halfling looked at her for a long breath, then silently pulled the door open.

"Come," Twilight said, pulling Liet across the corridor. She took out the shard.

"The last?" Liet asked.

"Six, including you, but not me. Choose one." She extended the keys.

Liet tapped one at random, dully. Twilight put it in the lock.

"You know of this place?" Liet pressed.

"No." The lock clicked open. "What an amazing guess."

Liet opened his mouth but Twilight grinned and slipped into the cell.

Twilight could see with greater acuity than any human when light was lacking, as it certainly was in the cell. Unlike others of her kind, however, she could see as well in the dark as any dwarf or orc. And what she saw took her by surprise.

A huge form huddling in the corner did not look up. At first glance, it might have been a massive man, towering seven feet in height, but the skin was leathery and thick. She could see no color, but did not expect that it would match any human shade. Tattered sackcloth covered its body. The chamber was silent, but not from any spell.

"Hail, good sir," she said aloud. Liet sucked in a breath at her side, surprised at the sudden noise. Twilight had forgotten-of course, the human couldn't see.

No response came from the creature. It might have been dead for all Twilight saw of it, but she could sense faint breath stirring its lips.