Descent into the Depths of the Earth (21 page)

She looked at him and shrugged. “I have a nasty side! What
can I say?”

At the far side of the passage, all hell broke loose. A male
drow charged from the cave mouth, saw Polk and Henry, and fired his hand
crossbow. The shot went wide. The drow ran forward, his shout silenced, but six
other drow came from the other caves and joined him in surging straight toward
Private Henry.

Two died in a savage instant of horror, their blood misting
as the Justicar struck from hiding. The drow turned, and Cinders shot a violent
blast of flame straight into their eyes. The flame took one elf in the face,
blasting the flesh from his skull. The other drow ducked wildly and turned,
their black cloaks sweeping around to take the flame blast. Fireproof cloaks
shielded the elves, but the instant of blindness cost the lead drow his life as
Jus cleaved downward with his sword.

More drow came running from the caves. Already facing two
enemies to his front, Jus poised, his sword ready, looking at the six elves
behind him from the corner of his eye.

The drow hesitated, looking at the savage splay of dead
around the Justicar. One of the elves hurled a javelin, while another fired a
crossbow bolt. Jus scarcely seemed to move, and yet as he slid one step and
turned, the bolt shot past him and the javelin clattered to the floor, split
neatly in two by the ranger’s black blade. The drow warriors drew short swords
and bucklers from their belts, paused, then sped forward in a surge of maddened
hate.

* * *

Escalla clung to the wall above the cave mouth. Below her,
two drow noblemen strode forth, one dressed in fur robes and the other armed
with a pair of sinister silver swords. With a shout of triumph, Escalla flicked
open her hands and fired. A lightning bolt stabbed downward, blasting the drow
warrior from his feet, but failing to even scratch the elf in the fur robes. The
warrior fell, and the fur-clad elf turned. Dodging sideways, Escalla fired a
stream of her magic bees straight at the fur-clad foe. Again, the spell failed,
the bees disappearing the instant before they hit.

The drow with the silver swords rose, snarling, but he went
after the Justicar after a curt jerk of the nobles head sent him away. Dragging
a hand crossbow from his belt, the remaining elf took aim at Escalla and opened
fire.

Escalla tumbled wildly, head over heels, the crossbow bolt
missing her by a hair. She whirled in her roll and fired her wand, and this time
the spell blasted home. The elf slammed back against a wall, ripped by ice
shards. An instant later, he lifted a hand and blasted his own ice storm
straight toward the faerie. The impact smashed Escalla into the wall behind her,
sending her tumbling to the ground.

* * *

In the passageway beyond, Jus moved with a wild blur of
steel. Drow leaped in and out, short swords and bucklers flashing. Jus spun and
kicked one elf in the head, breaking the drow’s jaw, then parried a short sword
with his blade before running its owner through. The elf screamed a silent
scream, staggering aside and gushing blood.

Short swords stabbed, and one ripped a mark across Jus’
thigh an instant before the elf behind it fell back with his arms severed.
Cinders fired flame, and two elves staggered while others ducked beneath their
cloaks. Steel flashed as the fight swirled in a maelstrom of blood.

* * *

Back down the tunnel, Escalla’s enemy moved to cast a spell.
Stunned, Escalla flickered into invisibility and shot to the ceiling. A
lightning bolt blasted inches beneath her, hit the ice wall, and smashed back
into the dark elf. Killed instantly, the creature fell steaming and hissing to
the floor.

The ice wall cracked. Something struck it a blow from behind
the melted impact point, and the entire sheet of ice began to break and fall.
Escalla took one look, then threw herself behind a stalagmite.

“Jus! We got visitors!”

* * *

The drow bearing twin swords ran toward the Justicar, joining
the only survivors—two scarred drow veterans. The nobleman signaled one to go
left and one right while he struck sparks from his swords and faced the
Justicar.

With his back against a wall, Jus stood with his sword on
guard, Cinders wreathing the scene in sulphurous smoke. The ranger loomed above
the elves like a sinister black giant. To his left and right stood drow with
swords and bucklers. Before him stood their war leader with twin blades weaving.
The three drow paced for a moment then sped suddenly backward as Jus lunged at
one swordsman with his blade.

Evading the huge man, the drow lunged at Jus, parried the
savage black sword with crossed weapons, then flew backward as Jus’ kick
crashed into him with enough force to shatter steel.

The elf leader instantly scythed high and low with his
blades. Jus turned, still leaning sideways from his kick and parrying one blow
and letting the other crash against his cuirass of dragon scales. Sparks flew.
The elf drew blood, but Jus spun, trapped the blade beneath his arm and hammered
a blow down onto the drow’s elbow. Bone broke, and the drow leader howled in
silent agony.

Cinders blasted flame at the third elf, making the creature
cower within his cloak and winning Jus an instant. The big man stood with legs
bent, sweeping one arm up, back, and over to crash the elf leader across his
knee. The drow’s back broke, and as his victim fell Jus whirled to face the
remaining elf.

A short sword ripped through Cinders and cut Jus’ back, but
the man smashed the skull hilt of his sword into the elf’s teeth and whipped the
blade in a savage blur, shearing open the drow’s abdomen. As sheet ice shattered
like an exploding wall of glass, Jus drove his black blade through the final
swordsman, twisting the weapon free and beheading the dark elf as it fell.

The ice wall splintered, and a half-dozen female drow came
raging into the corridor. Frost-burned and smothered with blood, they hurled
themselves straight at the Justicar.

Escalla swung out of cover behind the elves and fired her
wand. Two drow jerked and died, while others leaped untouched out of the storm.
The drow whirled, saw Escalla, and opened fire with a shower of crossbow darts.
Screaming in fright, Escalla covered her face with her arms, bolts smacking into
her and ricocheting free—victims of her stoneskin spell.

Hugging the cave wall, Private Henry watched anxiously,
panting as he saw the Justicar charge savagely into the attacking elves. A
silver-haired head fell to the floor as the drow scattered to surround their
foe. One leaped spectacularly above the fight, landing behind the Justicar. Pale
with panic, Private Henry ran forward, dragging his unfamiliar sword from its
sheath. He charged with the heavy blade held in front of him like a battering
ram, crashing into the elf from behind. The drow whirled, Henry’s sword jutting
through her ribs, and felled the boy with a backhand blow of her fist. She
loomed over him, grinning in insane bloodlust as she stabbed a short sword down
at his chest again and again, the blade striking sparks as it struck against
Escalla’s stoneskin spell. Henry screamed and tried to fend her away with
helpless hands. An instant later, her head snapped back with a crossbow bolt
buried in her face. Private Henry looked up in shock to see Polk standing and
reloading the crossbow. The teamster shook his head in annoyance at having to
work so hard for his drink.

Female drow fought with a wild, manic indifference to life.
They leaped like acrobats, spinning handstands and dodging madly from side to
side. Looming like a bear amidst a flock of sparrows, Jus hacked one in mid
flight, sending both halves of her smacking to the ground. He fought fast and
furiously, kicking another, catching her by the skull and pulping her head
against the cave walls.

Two elves held back behind the fight, both trying to cast
spells, and both finding that the silence spell blocked their chants.

Escalla fired her wand again—the frost blast failing against
one but staggering the other. As the last female warrior died, the two
sorcereresses flicked a look at Escalla, then leaped into the air, shooting like
lightning bolts down the corridor in magic flight.

Jus dived forward, rolling to come up with his sword moving.
As the sorceresses flew past, he whipped out his magic rope, making it crack
like a lash at it fastened about the neck of one of the fleeing elves. The drow
jerked like a victim on a noose, clawing at her throat.

Escalla shot past in hot pursuit of the remaining elf, who
rolled to fire a spell at the faerie, snarling in anger as Escalla’s shields
wrenched the spell aside.

Escalla sped like a meteor, dodging spellfire left and right.
She cranked the focus ring upon her wand and blasted a bolt down the corridor.
The fleeing drow rolled, the bolt shot past beneath her, and the evil sorceress
gave a cackling screech of mirth.

An instant later, the drow smashed into an ice wall at top
speed. The crash broke half a dozen bones and sent her tumbling to the floor.
Escalla fell on her like a diving hawk, screaming out a spell that blasted at
the stunned drow. Once again, the magic seemed to die an instant before it hit.

Broken and staggering, the drow snarled and swept her cloak
about her body. She shimmered and changed into a sinister gray manta that flew
up into the air, fanged mouth open and screaming. The manta plunged down and
folded around Escalla, intending to crush the faerie to death. The manta
swirled, clamped its mantle around its prey, squeezed with all its might…
and died.

Running with blood, the manta changed shape back into a drow
sorceress. The drow’s corpse lay curled about a deadly little shape—a steely
urchin studded with vicious spikes. The spines had punctured the drow like a
thousand knives. As the drow fell slowly to the floor, the urchin changed shape
back into Escalla, an Escalla dressed in a few torn clothing threads and
horribly drenched in dark elf blood.

“My clothes!” Wiping blood from her face, Escalla looked down
at herself. She looked as if she had been swimming on a slaughterhouse floor.
“You filthy drow bitch! Look what you made me do!”

The instant transformation had ripped Escalla’s clothes
apart. She threw the ruined scraps of her clothing away. Cursing and muttering,
she began to search the dead, bleeding elf.

From far behind her came a thin little cry, the voice of
Polk. “Girl, you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Escalla dropped her voice to a mutter. “Except
for dripping with drow body fluids.” She yelled across her shoulder down the
tunnel. “I got her! How’s Jus?”

“Poisoned!”

Gold glinted from the hair of the dead drow. A true
kleptomaniac, Escalla swooped and plucked out a golden spider pin. Swearing like
a dock worker, Escalla sped back to join her friends.

The tunnel section between the caves looked like a slaughter
yard. Parts of dark elves lay amidst an ocean of blood—black and gleaming in the
dim phosphorescent light.

With a look of raw fury frozen on his face, Jus sat slumped
unconscious against a wall. Polk sat on his heels, looking puzzled. Private
Henry wrung his hands in panic. Cinders merely grinned and wagged his tail.

Wincing, Escalla dropped to the floor. It felt like half her
ribs were broken by the impact of the drow’s ice spell. Hurting and dazed, she
waved a hand at Polk and Henry. Dripping with filth and feeling violated, the
faerie dragged herself over to Jus, took his pulse, then saw the bolt from a
hand crossbow lying by the man’s injured thigh.

“What happened?”

“The sorceress he caught on the rope attacked him!” Henry
pulled at a drow’s cloak to make a bandage, then hastily dropped it when he
found it to be soaked with blood. “She stabbed him with a crossbow bolt.”

Wiping her blood soaked hair back from her face, Escalla
wearily trudged over to Jus. Her naked body dripped blood as she stepped onto
him, and she saw Polk and Henry’s eyes go wide in alarm.

“It’s all right, guys. Drow blood, not mine.” Escalla winced
and held her ribs. “He’s alive. Don’t worry about it. Drow put a sleeping drug
on their missile weapons. He’ll come out of it in about ten minutes.” The girl
folded over, clutching herself. “Just time to… to check his pockets for
small… small change.”

Racing forward, Polk caught the girl as she fell. Lolling in
agony, Escalla could only croak and close her eyes.

Cracked ribs, bruises, concussion…

This had not been one of Escalla’s better days. Her stoneskin
spell had stopped punctures but had transmitted the shock right though to the
bones. Painfully awake at last, Escalla felt herself being tended to. Wounds
were tended and her face wiped semi-clean. Sitting cradled in Jus’ lap, Escalla
smoldered, thinking dire thoughts about the drow. She opened one bloodshot eye
and said, “So. Fireproof cloaks, poisoned arrows, they use magic, move silently,
and are immune to magic at least half of the time…” Extremely miffed, the
girl lifted her arm and suffered to have another healing spell across the ribs.
“Apart from that, we’re pretty even.”