a dislodged stone hitting the tunnel floor and rolling toward them. Danifae's eyes widened slightly.
"Someoneis - "
Her words were cut off by a violent hiss of steam from the cavern below. Glancing down, Ryld saw that the demon was melting the ice. He opened his mouth to shout a warning -
- then he pursed his lips shut. The demon was Pharaun's problem.
Ryld shifted to sign language, in order to speak over the hissing roar of boiling water.
Whoever it is, I'm going to make them sorry they followed us. Tell Quenthel where I've gone.
You're running off after Halisstra,Danifae accused.
Ryld, startled, was surprised by her bluntness - and by the approval he saw in her eyes. Was she glad that her mistress would have some-one to protect her, after all?
No,he told her, determined to keep up his bluff.I'llbe back. As proof you can keep this.
He pulled the lesser of his two magical rings from his finger and passed it to Danifae, intentionally dropping it. The ring bounced off a rock and began to roll down the slope toward where the oth-ers stood. Danifae scrambled after it, trying to grab the ring before Quenthel or one of the others claimed it.
Ryld turned to hurry back the way they had come. He saw Valas shoot him aquick, questioning glance. Then Quenthel shouted a warning to Pharaun. An instant later a roar of triumph filled the cavern. The demon was free.
Ryld was already several paces away, climbing swiftly up the narrow tunnel that had led them to the cavern. Behind him he could hear more roaring, violent splashing, and terrified shouts. An explosive rush of cold air whooshed past him - the blast of a spell. There was no way to tell whether it was one of Pharaun's - or one cast by the demon. Then a male voice screamed in mortal agony. Pharaun's?
For a heartbeat or two, he actually considered turning around. Then he decided against it. Pharaun deserved to know what it felt like not to be able to count on a friend.
He climbed upward, ignoring the sounds of battle behind him until he reached the flattened bag, which he plucked from its ledge. He dropped it into the portable hole, then folded the hole shut. He'd shake it out later when he reached the surface. If the others survived the demon attack and came looking for him, there would be no clues to alert them to the trick he'd played.
Ryld pressed on, retracing the route they'd taken from the sur-face. He'd taken careful mental notes as they descended, pausing several times to turn around to view landmarks from the opposite direction.
He passed the place where they'd been forced to crawl over a jumble of rock because the ceiling had partially collapsed, then the long, narrow cavern where a trickle of water had encouraged a faintly glowing patch of lichen to grow. Next came the natural chimney that rose more than a hundred paces above and below to dead ends, with several narrow tunnels opening onto it.
Reaching it, Ryld looked up the chimney and counted. The third tunnel above and slightly to the right was the one they'd come through. Touching the magical brooch pinned to his shirt, Ryld stepped out into the chimney and levitated toward it.
As he drew closer to the tunnel mouth, he heard a faint clink from somewhere inside it. Instantly recognizing the sound of chain mail links clinking against each other, he whipped up the hood of his piwafwiand drew his feet up under its hem. The magic of his cloak enfolded him, throwing his body into shadow. He drifted past the mouth of the tunnel he'd been heading for - to one side of it, so the person he'd just heard wouldn't spot the movement of shad-owed gray against shadowed gray - then he halted the equivalent of a dozen paces above the opening. He hung there, carefully control-ling his breathing so that not even a whisper of sound escaped his lips. He waited.
A moment later, a dark face appeared in the tunnel mouth. The strange drow's ebony skin blended with the darkness of the tunnel behind it, as did the black mask that hid his lower face - the symbol of a cleric of Vhaeraun - but his white hair and faintly glowing red eyes stood out in sharp relief. He peered up at where Ryld floated. A chimney was a natural place to expect an ambush.