me.”
Note that he speaks of the Durkoth in the past tense, sent Triss. Somehow I don’t think that Uthudor lived on to betray the secret of this place to anyone after he finished making it.
I wish that I could disagree. I didn’t particularly like any of the Durkoth I’d ever met, but the idea reminded me too much of all those rulers who’d built themselves vast tombs and then killed the workers they’d employed to prevent them from revealing the location to potential grave robbers.
Kelos pointed to our right. “There’s a privy through a thick stone door down at that end of the vault. Opening it creates a pretty stiff breeze, since it has its own airshaft to draw out the stink. Another shaft voids the contents into a fast moving underground river.” Next, he pointed left. “There’s a small sleeping cubicle up at that end. Also, a bathing chamber that draws its water from the same river, though well upstream, of course. It takes a while to fill, and longer to heat, but we’ll have baths as we need them. That’s where the rabbit run is, under a stone grate.”
“Where does it go?” asked Triss.
“Into the river,” replied Kelos. “It’s a rough, cold ride, but about a mile after you hit the water there’s a ledge on the left bank and a shaft that leads up to a one-way hatch onto the surface.”
“Nice setup,” said Siri. “Though it seems a bit sparsely furnished for the size.” There were a couple of chairs, a small table, and what looked like it might be another magelight lamp by the door to the sleeping cubicle, but not much else.
“I knew I’d be spending weeks at a time here over the course of years, and I wanted plenty of space to train and stay in shape. Speaking of which, all you need do is say the word . . .” He pointed upward and spoke a simple spell of opening, sending a rope of silver light to touch the center of the ceiling where it split in two and slithered away along the stone surface in the manner of bubbles flowing through a poisoner’s still. In the wake of the twinned lines, a row of tiny bronze shutters that ran the entire length of the vault overhead opened, revealing strong magelights and flooding the room with a pure golden light. “. . . and instant dojo.”
“It’ll be good to have a chance to train properly again,” said Faran, “though I imagine the stone floor is going to produce some spectacular bruises. Where are all your supplies?”
“There’s a trapdoor in the floor near the latrine with various tools of the trade stored below—targets, pells, magical gear, etc. It’s designed to double as a bottle dungeon, should we need one. There’s another just like it up by the sleeping cubicle. There’s food in that one in big earthen jars, and plenty of blankets and the like. Speaking of which, there’s only the one actual bed, but we can rig up a couple of hammocks easily enough for those who prefer not to sleep on rugs or mats. That’s what I intend to do, since the sleeping cubicle goes to our First Blade.”
I nodded because it was the obvious choice. “I’d say getting sleeping arrangements set up is our first order of business. We’ve been traveling hard, and I for one am ready for a long rest. Then come tomorrow night, we can start nosing around the temple precinct to see what it will take to crack the place under the new security regime.”
Siri grimaced. “We’re going to have to approach that with even more care than we normally would, given the betrayal of Lieutenant Chomarr.” She ticked points off with her fingers. “They know we’re coming, we can’t trust a thing he said, and every question we asked will have given him insights into how we think about these things.”
“In short,” said Faran, “we’re fucked.”
“Not entirely,” I replied. “But we are starting in a very big hole.”
“One thing Chomarr didn’t know about is the Signet’s finger with its ring,” said Kelos. “I presume you stashed it somewhere near the city, Aral. How fast can you get your hands on it?”
I blinked at the question and shrugged. “More than a day, less than a week.” I was surprised that now that Kelos had finally chosen to bring it up he did so in front of everyone, if not by the fact that he knew me well