Game Play (14 page)

Consort scampered
forward, clutching at Delrael's arm. The fighter snatched the claw-hand away,
sweating and looking at the gathered insects.

"Come,"
Consort said. "Come."

The Anted guards
backed away from one of the catacomb openings. "You will not resist,"
Ryx said in a brittle voice. "You have already stretched my patience to
its limits."

Delrael looked at
the queen, at the other Anteds, then sheathed his sword. "We don't have
any choice, again," he said. "We never get to
do
anything in this
adventure."

Journeyman restored
his swollen fists to normal size. "He who fights and runs away, lives to
fight another day."

Consort snatched up
the empty shell of the Anted head he had found and swayed forward, walking like
an insect. He turned once to see that the others followed him. One of the giant
ants entered the passage behind them, keeping watch.

Consort capered
ahead of them, exuding coiled power and nervous energy.

The tunnels wound
downhill again until they saw only the dim greenish light from patches of
fungus on the wall. Occasionally, an Anted poked its massive head out of side
tunnels, watching the captives' progress. Delrael could sense other insects
following in the darkness of the tunnels behind them. Somehow in her great hive
mind Ryx watched through all of their eyes.

Delrael kept the
directions filed away in his mind. As a questing character he could recall
exactly where he had been and how to retrace his steps. He kept his eyes open
for any way they might escape or defeat the Anteds, ready to act on it without
thinking if an idea came to mind.

They crossed a
hex-line etched into the passage, up the walls, and across the ceiling over
their heads, as if the Anteds had tunnelled directly through the black mark
that went to the base of the map. "That's half of the desolation
hexes," Tallin said. "Things can start getting better now."

The green light
grew brighter ahead. Consort turned the corner, leading them to the glowing
opening of a wide chamber. Light streamed from it.

"In," he
said. He swung his curved hands, gesturing them with his fused fingers.
"In, in, in!"

Dripping growths of
fungus covered the chamber walls. Mounds of dead things, mulched and
unidentifiable, nourished the phosphorescent fungus, food for the Anteds. A
wet, rancid smell made the air thick and difficult to breathe.

"What will Ryx
do to us?" Bryl asked.

Consort looked up
and bobbed his head, grinning. "Eaten. Fresh. Or added here." He
bucked his shoulder to indicate the mounds under the fungus.

Vailret tapped one
of the ingrown plates on the part-human's back.

"Consort, what
is your real name? Do you remember?" he asked.

"Consort,"
the part-human said. "Consort." He shuffled ahead and did not look
back at them.

"No, I mean
your name as a human character. Do you remember when you first came to
Ryx?"

"Ryx!"
Consort lifted his eyes up in a worshipful expression. "Made me Consort.
Feeds me."

"She's
changing you into ... this," Vailret said, "with what she's feeding
you."

"Seems to be
wrecking his mind, too," Tallin snorted.

"I wandered
map. Scavenger," Consort said. "Then found Ryx." He seemed lost
in memory, trying to piece together the scattered dice game of his mind.

He raked a curved
claw-hand across his scalp, tearing up patchy hair. In the green light,
Consort's skin looked black and glistening, inhuman.

"Do you
remember back then?" Vailret said, "Did you play any games?" He took
out his set of dice. Something registered in Consort's eyes when he stared at
the dice.

"Games?"
Vailret repeated. "Do the Anteds play games with you? Here, let me show
you." He rolled the dice. "You have to guess which number will come
up. See?" He rolled again.

"Games..."
Consort said. His head drifted from side to side, fixing his saucer eyes on the
dice.

"Del, come
here," Vailret whispered. The two of them played a dice game. Consort did
not join in, but he watched with his full attention.

"Or how about
this one?" Using Tallin's dagger, they sketched a grid on the floor.
Delrael and Journeyman played tic-tac-toe.

As Consort watched,
old thoughts finally seemed to break through. "Ryx never plays games. Not
these."

"But you used
to like to play games, didn't you?" Vailret said. "All human
characters do. Here
―
roll the dice yourself. Play with us."

Consort awkwardly
held the dice in his cupped claws. As he noticed his fused fingers, another
thought seemed to jar loose. He stared down at his hands, as if puzzled at what
could have happened to them.

They played a few
rounds with the dice. Consort went through the motions, obviously not quite
grasping what he was doing, but Vailret and Delrael arranged it so that he won
the round. Consort's excitement grew, and he became more and more interested.

If only they could
be sure Ryx was not watching through
his
eyes, too.

"How'd you
like to play another game?" Tallin said, grinning so that his pointed
beard jutted out. His forest-patterned clothes had lost all their colors in the
green light. He winked at Delrael. "You must have played this one,
Consort. It's fun, and you'll probably win because you have the advantage."

"Game?"
Consort's bulging eyes never blinked as he cocked his head from side to side.
"Game?"

Tallin flashed a
toothy grin. "It's called hide and seek."

"Yes,"
Delrael picked up the conversation, fixing on the ylvan's idea.

He liked the way
Tallin's mind worked. "It's more fun than dice. You stay here and give us
time to hide. We'll go out into the catacombs, then you try to find us! Once
you find all of us, then you can hide, and we'll try to find you."

"Rule number
one, you know," Vailret said, "Always have fun."

"Hide and
seek." Consort stood up and made his eerie chirping noise again.
"Games."

"All right,
stay here and cover your eyes. Wait a long time now, otherwise it won't be
fair. Then you come find us." Delrael smiled, but turned his head to the
side, "Go!"

Consort hunched by
the glowing fungus. He tapped his claw-hands on the hard floor, buzzing to
himself. He couldn't close his saucer eyes, but he stared at the wall.

They ran into the
dimness, not knowing where they were going. "Head uphill," Delrael
said.

"And be
quiet," Tallin added. "If we don't bump into any Anteds, Ryx won't
know where we are."

At each
intersection of tunnels, they chose the one tending upward.

Delrael ran with
sword drawn. "We have to kill any Anteds right away, before they can
signal to more."

They lost their
sense of time. Without seeing daylight above, they had no idea how far they had
come or how long they had been down in the catacombs.

Delrael's sword
felt a part of him. His wooden
kennok
leg did not tire. The companions pushed
on. Their eyes were wide, their lips white, their teeth pressed together in
determination.

He knew they would
encounter an Anted soon, very soon. He hoped they could find their way to the
surface first.

The hazy green
light increased the shadows around them, offering too little illumination to
see anything sharply. The air was dense and warm, stifling. Delrael couldn't
seem to get enough breath.

His senses were
keyed up to a fever pitch. He picked up motion in a tunnel to their right,
something trying to move quietly. And then in the dim light he saw the clear
outline of an Anted head moving forward, ready to spring
―
.

Delrael swung his
sword and thrust forward as he plunged in faster than he could think. He hoped
the sharp point of the old Sorcerers' blade would break through the chitin and
strike something vital in the Anted. The sword plunged home more easily than he
had expected, and he twisted the hilt, driving upward. Something was wrong.

"Found
you..." said Consort, then he made a gurgling sound of delayed pain.

His hollow Anted
helmet slipped off his head and clattered to the floor of the catacombs.

Delrael withdrew
the blade and released his grip on Consort's shoulder.

The blade caught on
one of the implanted armored plates, peeling it from his skin and exposing soft
jelly-like tissue. Consort slumped bleeding to the floor.

"Ryx..."
The breath rattled in his throat, gurgling. He made his inhuman chirping sound
again before he died.

Delrael stared down
at what he had done. He felt more shaken than he thought he should. His mouth
was dry, and it hurt when he tried to swallow.

Tallin reached out
to grip Delrael's wrist. "We have to get out of here. One less spy to deal
with."

"Ryx might
know what's happened," Vailret said.

They ran, taking
less care to remain silent now. They turned a dozen more times, lefts and
rights, and finally they came to one passage that sloped sharply upward.

A bright
golden-blue light sifted through one of the cross-ventilation holes near the
ceiling of the tunnel, just above Delrael's eye level. He stood on his tiptoes
and looked. "I can see a way out on the other side of this wall."

"No way we can
get there." Vailret scowled up at the light. The hole was less than a foot
wide, too small for anyone to worm through. "It doesn't do us any
good."

"It's close
enough," Delrael said. "I'm not going to wander around here any more.
We can get through this."

He used the hilt of
his sword to pound at the edges of the opening. The fused sand chipped away and
broke, crumbling loose as he worked. "Journeyman, help me."

He moved to one
side, allowing room for the golem. Journeyman grasped the edges of the hole and
began ripping away chunks of the cementlike sand.

"It might be
wide enough for Tallin to squeeze through," Delrael said.

The ylvan came
forward, raising his arms as Delrael lifted him to the hole. "Get away if
Ryx comes after us."

Tallin glanced at
him, then worked his shoulders into the narrow opening, squirming through.
"No, I'll wait for you on the other side." The ylvan pulled himself
out. "Just don't dink around
―
Hurry up!"

His knees and feet
disappeared through the hole, and they heard him drop to the floor. Delrael
passed the little man's quiver and crossbow through to him.

"The opening
to the surface is too high for me here. I can't reach it to climb out. Anybody
got a ladder?"

Delrael and
Journeyman worked furiously widening the hole. "Your turn, Bryl! You can
fit."

The half-Sorcerer
stood up, appearing uneasy. He brushed at the sides of his cloak and
straightened his white hair and beard. Delrael wondered why he looked so
frightened.

"I don't like
to be separated. Especially not here."

Delrael urged him
to the wall. "We'll be with you in just a few minutes. Don't worry."

With a boost from
Journeyman, Bryl crawled through the tunnel, scraping his shoulders and elbows.
He fell to the floor on the other side, then scrambled to his feet. Tallin
crossed his arms over his chest and watched the work on the other side of the
wall. Daylight from the opening overhead gleamed down, blinding and bright
after their hours in the green dimness.

Journeyman worked
in silence, but the chipping of steel against stone rang out along with
Delrael's grunts of effort. Another noise suddenly joined it. Delrael paused to
listen.

Tallin called up
through the wall. "The Anteds are coming on
this
side!"

More sounds echoed
from other tunnels, like a melodic battle cry.

Twelve deadly black
insects emerged from different tunnels in the maze.

"Delrael,
hurry up!" Bryl said. "I don't think my spells will be enough."

Delrael did not
answer them, grunting as he pounded with the hilt of his sword. Sweat streamed
down his forehead, and his arm ached. He gritted his teeth and paid no
attention.

Tallin slipped his
crossbow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow. He removed a dagger from his
belt and, without taking his eyes from the Anteds, thrust it hilt-first at
Bryl.

"Take this! If
you run out of spells, you'll need something to defend yourself with. I'll be
too busy to worry about you."

Bryl slipped the
dagger up his flowing sleeve. He withdrew the Fire Stone and rolled it at his
feet. A "2."

"It's better
than nothing," Bryl said. He grabbed up the ruby and held a roaring
fireball in the palm of his hand. He waited for the Anteds to make the first
move. "I've only got three spells left."

Tallin's eyes
flashed as he crouched. He turned in slow circles, watching the insects.