once more. The dark, liquid eyes darted to each of them in turn. Bellimar had not moved, but Halthak sat forward, awake now, and Valkarr, no longer feigning sleep, had slipped into a crouch with bared steel clenched in one fist. The Wyrgen’s gaze fell upon Amric once more, and the warrior watched a mad flicker of indecision pass through the wolf-like features. The muzzle curled in an unconscious snarl as the tall, powerful form tensed. Amric shifted his stance and relaxed, measuring his space to maneuver in the surrounding clutter. Just as in the hallway, however, the Wyrgen regained his composure with a concerted effort and the moment fell back from the brink of violence.
“I am Grelthus,” he growled.
“Why this damned deception, then?” Amric demanded through clenched teeth. “You could have revealed your identity at any time. Did you not believe that Morland directed us to you?”
“That Morland sent you is no evidence of your good intentions,” Grelthus said with a toothy sneer.
Amric found it difficult to argue the point, as the merchant was a snake. Even so, he had agreed to perform a duty, however distasteful. “Morland provided the maps and information that led us here. In exchange, he bade us inquire as to the disposition of your, ah, business arrangement with him, were we successful in locating you.”
Grelthus bared his teeth in a mirthless expression. “The merchant and I had an arrangement where the mutual benefit outweighed the mutual distrust, by a very slight margin. It has been superseded by more important matters, however, and our deal is now voided. I owe the man nothing.”
“I will carry your answer back to Morland,” Amric said in a measured tone. “Our dealings with him were out of necessity rather than choice, whereas our own goal is to determine the whereabouts of our missing friends, the party of Sil’ath I mentioned to you earlier. Now that we are being more truthful with one another, I ask you again: have you seen them?”
The Wyrgen met the warrior’s level gaze, head swaying slightly, dark eyes hooded. “No, human,” he said at last. “You must seek your friends elsewhere.”
Amric swallowed bitter disappointment and gave a tight nod. “Our friends were seeking the source of the disruption plaguing the region. Morland directed them here to Stronghold for answers. Can you tell us aught of this?”
“I wish that I could not,” the Wyrgen said with a rumbling sigh. “I wish I could disavow any knowledge of it, but you must understand that it is our nature to study such phenomena. Untold secrets beckoned, seemingly within reach––and with the convergence, and Stronghold so ideally located to study––but little did we realize…”
The Wyrgen’s broad shoulders slumped and his hands rose to claw at his head. An agonized groan escaped him. Bellimar leaned forward from his seat on the crate, eyes intent beneath delicate silver brows.
“What did you find, Grelthus?” the old man asked.
“It will be easier to show you,” Grelthus whispered, raising his shaggy head from his hands. “Come with me to the observation chamber. It is fitting that you see.”
Amric stepped aside as the Wyrgen crossed the room and, procuring the strange cube from the folds of his tunic, unlocked the inner door. The swordsman observed the action from the corner of his eye, noting how the cube was pressed to the metal surface above the door handle and twisted to one side, prompting the muffled click of a mechanism hidden within. Grelthus then swiftly palmed the device before throwing open the door and striding through. He descended into a narrow, darkened stairwell that ran perpendicular to the room, and Amric and his companions followed several paces behind.
The stairs plunged a considerable distance below the floor level of the room they had departed, forty feet or more by Amric’s reckoning, and were lit at their nether end by an eerie, flickering glow. Amric peered past the hulking form of the Wyrgen to the doorway below, where a shimmer of multi-hued light danced across the wall in bold relief against the shadows, cast from the chamber beyond. A vague sense of unease stole over him as they neared the bottom, where wispy fingers of light caressed the walls about them and clawed at the stairs beneath their feet.
Sudden vertigo lanced through him, and he almost missed the last step before the landing, reaching out one hurried arm to the wall to brace himself. His vision swam for one disorienting moment, and he glanced over his shoulder at