Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,77

times and inspecting the ebon-clawed tips. A wicked grin spread across his features.

“Now I am ready,” he said.

Amric frowned. A flicker of something––pain, or perhaps relief––had twisted the man’s expression when he regained the devices. He turned to scan the chamber. “You mentioned seeing maps of Stronghold here before. Do you see them now?”

Syth shook his head. “I tried to examine them without drawing the attention of Grelthus, but he caught me one day and removed them all from the room. I know not where he hid them.”

“How much do you remember of them?” Bellimar asked. The old man carried Halthak’s discarded staff, and was circling the table as he studied its contents.

“Some,” the thief admitted, “though it has been weeks now since I saw them. And I was more intent on plotting my eventual escape route from the fortress than looking for the bastard’s sanctuaries. Still, I recall him marking certain rooms and shading sections of the map to demarcate paths of high and low activity.”

“Take us to the nearest,” Amric said. He moved to the closed metal door and employed the key once more, then pocketed the device. He glanced back, looking to each of them until he received a nod in return, and then he cracked the door and peered out into the hallway beyond. It was still and silent as a tomb, lit along its length by those unwavering, flameless lamps. He waved the others forward, easing the door fully open and drawing his remaining sword.

“Tell me, thief,” he said. “Were your earlier words boastful or true? Are you truly a good hand in a fight?”

“You will find out soon enough,” Syth responded with a fierce grin.

They slipped into the empty corridor.

Awareness returned to Halthak in measured stages. First came the throbbing, like a steady, ruthless drum inside his skull. Second, as by reflex he tried to put a hand to his head, he realized his hands were bound behind him. His eyes flared open. He was lying prostrate on a stone floor, and he sighted along the cold flagstones against which his cheek was pressed. Memory began to make a grudging return as well. He recalled entering the darkened stairwell with water pitcher in hand for the prisoner Syth when a bulky silhouette hurtled up the stairs and filled his vision. He had flinched to the side in an effort to avoid the onrushing mass, but it caught him in a grasp like iron and dashed him against the wall behind him. His head struck the unforgiving granite, and the world was torn from him for a time.

Halthak surveyed his surroundings, or at least what little he was able to from his lowly vantage point. He was in another viewing chamber, with the Essence Fount’s lurid hues flickering against the stone. At first he thought it was the same chamber he had vacated, and perhaps he had fallen down the stairs, but the contents of the room told him different. The other viewing chamber had been almost empty except for Syth’s cage, and this room contained a row of smaller tables hemmed in by stacks of crates and other clutter. He could see no more from his current orientation, as he was facing a corner where the stone and glass walls met. There was a faint shimmer of reflection in the transparent material of the viewing wall, but it was not sufficient to perceive any additional detail in the room at his back.

And he would very much like to see more, as something was moving behind him in the chamber.

He listened to the shuffling sounds of movement, accompanied by bursts of low muttering. There was a pause followed by the clink of metal upon metal, and then the movement resumed. There was nothing for it, Halthak decided; he gained little by remaining in this position, pretending to be unconscious still. He needed to assess his situation, to determine where he was and how many of his companions were present. With a grunt of effort, he heaved himself to a sitting position and fought back a wave of dizziness.

The muttering stopped.

“Excellent, you are awake,” said a deep, guttural voice. “We can begin.”

The world swam into focus, and Halthak found himself staring into the dark, liquid eyes of Grelthus, as the Wyrgen sank into a crouch before him. A quick scan of the room showed that he was alone with his captor; it also revealed a chamber with a much more functional arrangement than the other viewing