far end without incident. It seemed as though the creature was scared and chose to leave them alone, or else the lake was connected to other underground reservoirs and it had fled further along one of these to avoid the tumult.
They rested on the far side. “Luck must be on our side, for once,” Lanrik said.
Aranloth gave him a tight grin. “Luck is always on your side. Don’t you know that?”
“It doesn’t seem that way sometimes. It definitely didn’t when the serpent attacked.”
“Yet you got through. And out of the midst of a ring of elùgroths you brought me forth – the both of you. It can’t have been easy, but you did it. You need luck for that sort of thing. Some are dogged by ill fortune all their lives. Others, like the two of you, have a way of landing on your feet. Even the serpent was good luck, in its own way. If not for its presence, the elùgroths would have learned of the tunnels beneath the pit. And then they would have secured that path and no rescue would have reached me.”
“You have a strange way of looking at things,” Lanrik said. “But I see what you mean. Yet tell me this? How good will our luck be with the elùgroths? Will they think you dead and buried beneath the tower? Or can they sense that you still live by some art of sorcery?”
Aranloth thought about it a moment. “They’ll be suspicious. Too suddenly I gave up the battle with them, and they’ll use elùgai to try and find my body. Minute by minute, as they fail in that task, their doubt will grow.”
“And then?”
“And then they will think on it. The serpent must somehow live, and no sacrifices have been made to it for a long time. They know it’s there, and they will consider next how it obtains food, and that will mean that it has a way out from the pit. And if so, I may have gone that way. They will know it for a truth when they fail to find my body.”
“Then we don’t have long before they mount a search.”
“No,” Aranloth answered. “But I don’t think they’ll be that quick either. They’ll be very tired. Only Elù-Randùr among their number is fresh.”
The air was still full of choking dust, but it was lessening. They soon moved on, Erlissa in the lead. She retraced their steps from earlier in the night.
They came to the cave of bats, but it was strangely quiet. The light at the tip of Erlissa’s staff flared a little brighter.
“They’re all gone,” she said.
They did not linger. The air was hot and oppressive, but it grew swiftly cooler as they went ahead toward the exit. They found the tunnel had partly collapsed in places, but the debris did not block it. They were able to move through, crawling carefully over piles of broken rock.
Finally, they reached the crevice that led outside. A long while Lanrik stood within its shadow, peering out and listening. It was still dark, but he guessed dawn was coming. The fresh air felt good on his face, and he breathed deeply of it.
The horses were still there, dim shapes in the dark. It appeared that no one had found them, nor would he have expected that to happen, but it was well to be careful.
They had far to go today, and time was against them. At some point the elùgroths would realize their prey had escaped and would come looking. Likely, they would rouse the Azan to search as well, so the three of them would have to risk riding during the day. That was a dangerous thing to do in a land seething with all manner of enemies.
He drew his sword and stepped out of the cave. The horses twitched their ears and looked at him, but he still saw no sign of anyone else. He went to them, Erlissa and Aranloth coming behind him. There was no lòhren-light now.
They untied the horses and mounted.
“Dawn is not far away,” Lanrik said.
“It will be a long day,” Aranloth answered. There was a note in his voice, not one of fear but of sadness. “Elù-Randùr will not give up.”
13. Drums and Silence
They had not gone far down the trail when the drums began.
The beat was slow. The rhythm did not change. It was a deep thrumming that rose from the foot of the mountain and swelled around the high peaks. Even as it did