Sea of Death

Chapter 15

Leda hurtled down the shaft made by the long-dead slug. The tube resembled a J, the upper portion tilted about thirty degrees from the vertical and the hook truncated so as to have about half missing. Although she hardly cared about it as she descended, the portion that was gone might have been sheared off by the same cataclysm that created the great chasm into which the J-shaped passage led. As she reached the spot where the tube curved back toward the horizontal, Leda's precipitous descent was slowed slightly; and for this she was glad. The dark elf had no idea that in the next second or two she would be catapulted from the tube into empty space, with the next solid ground to be encountered tying hundreds of feet below.

Gord feared that Leda was sliding toward certain death. He also feared that unless he did something fast, Leda would carry him with her, and both would plunge to become gory smears somewhere far below the place he precariously held onto.

As the sound of Leda's too-rapid slide down the tube came nearer to him, Gord reacted with speed and daring. With a heave, he jerked himself back up into the end of the tunnel, pulling his dagger free from the wall as he did so. In the same action, with the momentum of his surge to propel him, Gord shoved himself upward so that his back was pressed against the curving roof of the pipelike passage. By looking down and backward between his legs, he would be able to get a glimpse of Leda's form an instant before she slid past him. Just as a dark blur of motion came shooting beneath him, he acted.

In the same motion, Gord plunged his dagger into the tunnel wall above his head and dropped his lower body down from the ceiling, his legs closing from the full diameter of the tunnel to a clamping position similar to that which would be used to stay on the back of a wild horse. The magically keen point of the dagger was imbedded in the tunnel, and both of Gord's hands were wrapped around the hilt in a death-grip. His legs struck something soft as they scissored together. There was a muffled scream, a terrible pull that made his straining muscles shriek, and then he felt a pair of arms clamped around his locked legs. Gord was again hanging part way out of the passage; he could feel the sharp edge at the lip of the tube cutting into his shins.

"Don't let go," Leda's quavering voice called faintly. Fortunately, she had not been holding her sword when she came sliding down, or Gord's legs would have been severely sliced.

"I'm not," he replied through clenched teeth, "but you'd better pull yourself up here in a hurry!"

"I… I… can't. I don't dare let go of your legs. There's nothing below me!"

"Great," he groaned. "Just hold on, then. I'll try to pull us both up." The young thief was strong enough to manage that, but as he started to draw himself upward toward the imbedded blade, Leda screamed and Gord felt the dagger move slightly.

"Stop, Gord! When you do that, my lower back pushes against the wall and it forces my grip loose."

"Forget it, girl," Gord told her. "I won't try it again, because the dagger that's holding up both of us is loosened when I try that."

"Then what will we do? I can't hold on like this forever!"

His feet were touching, but not securely locked together, behind Leda's upper back. She held onto his legs awkwardly as she attempted to secure herself by grasping as high as she could. "Move your hands to just behind my knees, Leda. Lock them there." He felt her shift and then comply. After the girl had done this, Gord pulled himself toward the dagger, then slid back and repeated the process twice more.

"What are you doing?" The query from below was both frightened and angry.

"Hold tight!" Gord growled through a grimace. He hauled himself ahead once more, pushed his elbows against the tunnel wall as firmly as he could, and levered the buried blade up with wrists and forearms. It jerked free suddenly, and Gord was immediately pulled toward the sheer drop below.

"E…e…e…k!" The cry of horror came in a long, shrill scream as Leda felt them both beginning to slide and head for certain destruction.

But Gord had a plan, and his catlike reflexes made it work. At the point where his waist passed the rim of the tube, he raised the dagger and drove it downward again. It struck home as before, this time on the very edge of the opening. Gord hung at arm's length now, with Leda dangling below and moaning in abject terror. There was true method to his seeming madness, however.

"Stop that!" Gord said. "Fear saps strength. You have nothing to worry about now. I'll have us out of this mess in a second." He flexed his leg muscles, both to make certain that they gripped the dark elf securely and to reassure her that she was in good hands, so to speak. Holding firmly to the dagger with his left hand, Gord released his right from its iron grip and felt around the lip of the passage. His exploring fingers found what they sought — a crack deep enough to use as a hold. He pulled himself up a few inches, using the right hand to do so, then he released his left from the dagger hilt and held it down toward Leda.

"Grab my wrist!" he ordered her as he felt her upstretched fingers groping against the back of his left hand. She complied readily, and her right hand grabbed his left wrist with a viselike grasp born of fear. "Now hold tight. I'm going to release my legs, but I'm holding your wrist, just as you have mine," he explained slowly and carefully to her. "I'll find a toehold once my legs are free, and then I'll draw you up… Now!"

The sudden tug of Leda's full weight on his arm nearly made him lose his handhold, but the fingers of his right hand retained their position. He braced his right foot against the wall to keep his body from swaying while moving his left foot here and there, seeking any hold he could find. For a few seconds it seemed to him that the clifflike wall must be as smooth as glass, but then his toes found a little ledge. After carefully raising his foot and setting the sole of his boot on the outcropping, Gord placed weight upon that foot. This helped relieve the tension on his right arm a bit, allowing the muscles to relax just a little so that blood would flow more freely and lend strength to that member.

"Up now!" he cried to Leda, digging his fingers into the crack again and pushing down on his left leg for leverage as he hauled upward with his left arm.

As the girl's slim body was pulled upward, the strain shifted from Gord's arms to the foothold. If the little ledge of limestone crumbled, or his boot slipped, they would both be lost. Gord prayed silently. Then Leda managed to grab his belt, and using this new grip the girl pulled herself up to a position beside Gord. The young man's left hand guided Leda's own left to the handle of the imbedded dagger. "Let go of my wrist now, girl, and grab the pommel of the dagger — it's buried fast in the stone and will hold your weight easily."

Leda did as he said. "I have it!" she exclaimed in joy. Then she freed her right hand, and using both arms pulled herself up and over the lip, back into the tube above.

In a second Gord had hold of the dagger again, pulled himself up, and then he and the elf were wedged into the tube side by side, the cramped conditions actually giving both a sense of safety and security for the moment.

"How do we get back up the tunnel?"

Gord paused to think before answering Leda's question. "I am not sure we do," he said.

"Have you a flying carpet now?" She sounded exhausted and cross.

"No, but there might be some means of getting down that both of us can manage. That monstrous cavern, or whatever it is, seems to head off toward the southwest — just the direction for us."

"You go ahead if you like. I'm going to climb back up the way we came," Leda said acidly. The dark elf turned and began to wiggle away.

Gord remained where he was, waiting to see if she really meant what she said. But before she had gone twenty feet back along the passage, Leda froze in her tracks, and Gord heard the same sound that stopped her — a sort of slurping, snuffling noise. He had no idea what made such a sound, but decided he didn't care to find out just now anyway. As Leda began making her way carefully back toward Gord, the young thief eased himself over to the place where the tube opened onto the chasm and peered down and around. Five or so feet to his right and about ten feet down, a ledge ran along the face of the rock for as far as he could see. That looked like a usable route, and Gord could use his acrobatic skill to gain the place with no difficulty. But Leda would find it impossible to get to the ledge without his help.

"Don't lose your dweomer now," he muttered to his dagger as he began chipping away at the limestone just beneath the edge of the hole. By doing this, he turned a small toehold into a sort of step — at least in his climber-experienced eyes. Then, farther down and to the side of the passage he leaned out of, the magical blade went to work again, cutting the soft stone to provide another holding place.

By now Leda was back, and she was terrified again. "What are we going to do?" she moaned.

Instead of answering her, the young man redoubled his efforts. Then he moved away from Leda, swinging out to the step he had carved beyond the opening and working with one outstretched hand to hew another hold farther toward the ledge.

"Don't climb away without me," Leda pleaded.

"I'm not, and don't worry. Come to the mouth of the tube and climb out quick, or that thing coming behind you will have you for dinner." As Leda cautiously looked out, Gord showed her where the places for her hands and feet were. She was reluctant at first, but then a squishy, plopping sound from close behind her propelled Leda down and out onto the first step in a flash. "Just follow me, keep three holds at all times, and don't move too quickly," Gord said, making it all sound much easier than it was for her.

A rubbery appendage came snaking out of the hole Leda had just vacated. It paused, quivered for a moment, then quested in her direction uncertainly. With no hesitation, she moved to the next position, her head now about five feet below the mouth of the tube. Gord was working on gouging out another pair of holds. The protruding member lengthened, and was only a foot from Leda's body now.

"Gord, do something! It's going to grab me in a second!"

Gord moved to his right and let himself drop to the ledge below. By using the stone, he slowed his fall easily, and what shock there was to the drop he absorbed with flexed legs. As he turned to face the girl, Leda saw that she could move sideways a couple of feet to where he had been but a moment before and did so. The tentacle lengthened too, nearly reaching her with its searching tip. Then it did touch her, and with an involuntary cry, Leda jerked away from it, lost her hold, and fell — about two feet down into Gord's waiting arms.

"Let's move along," he suggested to her as he put her down on the two-foot-wide shelf of limestone. "Who knows what that thing can do?" With that, Gord began walking casually along the ledge. Leda followed, facing inward and doing a rapid side shuffle to keep up. After about two hundred feet there was a gap of six or seven feet before the shelf resumed on the other side, a bit lower than the elevation they presently occupied. Some fall from above had apparently carried part of the ledge away.

That thing is still after us," Leda hissed.

"No time to waste," Gord observed. An amorphous glob with several waving stalks that pointed in their direction was oozing its way methodically along the ledge about fifty feet behind them. A little work, and Gord had a single handhold about two feet out along the sheer surface. Grabbing that with his left hand, the young adventurer swung his body like a pendulum, arcing over to the far portion of the ledge and landing nimbly on his feet.

"Leda, go back a couple of steps, run, and jump. I'll be here to catch you." The monster was now only about ten feet away from her, so the dark elf nodded and immediately did just that.

"Now move on past me," Gord continued. "Let's see if that lump of dung can follow us across that space." Leda went forward a few steps and then turned to watch what he was doing. Gord stayed at the edge of their new pathway, watching the blob. One of its tentacle-pseudopods waved out toward him, as the mass of the monster hesitated where the ledge ended. Gord moved away from it a bit. The member snaked around, then down. It contacted the new ledge and appeared to fasten itself there. Then it began to thicken, and the blob on the far side seemed to dwindle at the same time. "I'll be damned!" Gord said in wonder and disgust

"Do something!"

Even as Leda urged him on, Gord was drawing his short sword. "That I am, girl!" he muttered. With an oath, Gord struck downward, hitting the black band of stuff just in front of the arriving swell. The blade sliced keenly, and a rush of vile, dark stuff washed over the steel. There was a keening sound, and in the next instant the mess fell from sight. Then Gord heard a faint sizzling sound coming from his weapon, and as he looked down he could barely believe his eyes — the ichor of the monster was dissolving the metal of his sword!

"Now I'm screwed!"

"There are other swords, love," Leda said and squeezed his arm. "We are safe now, and alive. That, not your sword, is what matters."

"Until it comes time to fight again," Gord retorted. There was nothing to do about it, though. He finally dropped the hilt and scabbard down after the dead horror, shrugged, and resumed his position in the lead along the narrow walkway of stone. "At least I retain my trusty dag," he finally said.

"Of course, Gord, and I still have my sword. Let us be bold!"

He didn't feel very bold just now, but at least the dark elf was now recovered from her fright at the near plunge into the abyssal subterranean rift they'd chanced upon. Let her handle the next problem with her spells and her weapon. Right now, Gord simply wanted to get out of this underworld and see the sun again — even if it meant plodding through the Ashen Desert once more.

The ledge slanted downward and grew broken, much as if the natural forces that created the place desired long, sloping steps, and it also broadened. So, it was actually very easy to travel along, as long as they didn't encounter a wide stretch where it was missing altogether. Eventually the ledge came to within ten feet of the floor of the rift, and they were able to jump down. They moved into the middle of the cavern to Investigate it. The ceiling was higher than they could see, and the place had to be nearly three hundred yards from side to side.

There is no dust or ash in this place," Gord said wonderingly.

"Some great magic still lingers over this rift, Gord. I thought so when we first encountered the place, for so strange a gap underground does not exist without powerful spells protecting it."

They went back to where they had descended from the ledge and began to follow it again, now heading gradually upward. The place they were traveling in narrowed in all dimensions, until finally the ledge became an actual floor and the cavern had tapered down to the size of a large tunnel. "We have gone for miles now, sloping up all the while," Gord observed some time later. "We should be amidst the powdery waste of the desert by now, Leda, and still we are underground. This wide ledge seems almost as if it were a roadway, too. What do you think?"

"That we should rest a moment," she said. As they both reclined on the ledge, Leda started to speak a legitimate answer to his question. "I am familiar with subterranean living. It is apparent to me that this area was fashioned by someone's hand — probably those who commanded the lost Suel empire. Perhaps that vast place we visited earlier was meant to shelter them until they managed to recover from the Invisible Firestorm and restore their lands." She paused and was lost in thought for several minutes. "I feel somehow that there is a city back there. Empty, deserted. A place never really used as its builders conceived it would be."

"What makes you think that?"

"Just a sensing of things, I guess. Consider those albino pygmies, too, Gord. I think that those are the descendants of the masters of the Great Empire of Suel, their degenerate aristocracy. And the apes are the less fortunate survivors of that unhappy race."

Gord had propped himself up on one elbow and stared hard at Leda as she spoke. She was a drow, but regardless of that, had he ever seen a more beautiful girl — no, woman? Even though he used only half of his mind to ponder the thought, Gord knew the answer quickly. Leda was certainly the most lovely female he could think of…

"Gord, are you listening?"

"Oh, yes. You seem to be thinking and remembering a lot, Leda. Do you recall who you are now?"

Now it was her turn to stare at Gord. He was looking at her with an open, assessing gaze, and when Leda smiled a little smile, he returned it with interest. Leda answered as truthfully as she could. "I know who I am not Gord. I know what I am, when I came to be, and what I must do."

"That is confusing as hell, woman."

Ignoring his use of the human appellation, Leda sat up and said urgently, "I do not want to confuse you. I need to tell you and have you accept me. Will you, Gord? Can I count on you?"

Making a wry face, the young man sat up too. "All of this deep, dark mystery — tut! I don't know who I am, really, you know, Leda, for I was orphaned… no matter. Go ahead and say your say. You and I are closer than any, so how can you doubt me?"

"We shall see. I was born only months ago. That's right, months! I am a clone — a special one, somehow nurtured to develop fully in a very short time, and one given something a clone is not supposed to have… Gord, I am the duplicate of the most evil and degenerate drow ever — the one who calls herself Eclavdra Eilserv."

"Never heard of her," Gord told Leda with a grin. "And somehow you don't fit the description of your twin — or should I say parent? — either. Aren't ones grown from the flesh of another supposed to be exact replicas? But you are by no means evil and degenerate, as you put it."

Leda breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his seeming to argue over this last point, she could tell that he believed her. She moved over and gave him a hug. Thank you, dearest! I was afraid you'd think me a liar, demented, or hate me!"

"Only if there is reason to," Gord replied. Then he hugged her in return, saying, "Go on. I can tell you have more to say."

"You see, I have two sets of memories. There are mine, and they really begin with the night you rescued me, love. Then there are her memories. That is a cesspool! Eclavdra's experiences are so vile and full of evil that I keep them locked away. If I could only burn them from my mind! Well, never can that be done, I suppose, so I will tell you a little. You know about me, for what I am we have shared. Now I will tell you about her.

"Eclavdra is the handmaiden of the great lord of demons — the one as jet-black as I, and bearing six digits on hand and foot. His name I will not speak; do you know the one I refer to?"

Gord nodded slowly. "I have had some cause to study demonology in my time, Leda. I have fought and slain one or two of the lesser sort, and I know a little of those great ones who lord it over the Abyss. The one you speak of has a name known to me."

"She is his high priestess, and I too must open a channel to his place to draw power for certain of my spells, Gord. But Eclavdra is his willing slave, and I am no part of that! It is only that I am attuned to her. We have the same vibrations in many ways — but I, Leda, repudiate the link!

"For two centuries she dwelled in the Vault, that home of the drow deep under the ground. Eclavdra sought power, desiring to rule the Great Cavern of the Drow and all who dwelled therein. When her plans were thwarted, Eclavdra deserted her clan and sought power elsewhere. The demon lord I referred to — he accepted Eclavdra. Then did she come home with fury, bringing a horde of that demon's own retainers to ruin her enemies. There was a civil war, Eclavdra's side triumphed, and now the Eilserv clan and its supporters rule all drow.

"Once exposed to what was beyond the deep world, however, Eclavdra was dissatisfied with being queen. At least, that's how I read the memories which fester in my mind when I can bring myself to examine them. Perhaps it was more a matter of having to serve him, that great demon, elsewhere. It is not a matter of concern. She now desires to rule far more than a few thousand dark elves who live in the subterranean realm. Thus, she deals with all manner of demon lords and evil ones…"

At this pause, Gord had to ask, "And where is this Eclavdra now?"

Leda shrugged. "I am supposed to be her, a duplicate who knows the whereabouts of my 'parent' and hates that original. I should desire that one's death, so that I can become the only Eclavdra. But I do not know her mind fully, and I do not wish to become Eclavdra. I will slay her, for kill her I must, but only to rid Oerth of one so vile!"

"What are you saying, Leda? Please don't allow your emotions to muddle your thinking," he said earnestly. "I need to know clearly what is going on if I am to help you."

"You're right. Let me calm myself a moment," and so saying, Leda visibly relaxed and gathered her composure. "Because I have been given, or somehow developed, a separate and unique identity, a persona my own and apart from Eclavdra, I do not know her exact whereabouts. Perhaps she is near here. I somehow sense she is, but that could be nothing more than a desire that she be, so I can confront and exterminate her. Eclavdra allowed my creation so that I would be a target, a decoy to be slain while she went unhindered to her goal."

Gord prompted her again. "What goal?"

"What you seek, she is also after. There is a contest, Gord. Two demonic factions struggle for possession of the… Final Key. I name it, for you are knowledgeable. The gross turd Iuz, the one who rules from Dorakaa, and now Molag too, and his unnatural mother as well, meddle in the game. They would be kingmakers, perhaps. I suspect that the two would possess the key themselves. I know that I am here to stop them all from succeeding!"

"My mission too, Leda, and one which I accepted freely. But why must you do this?"

"Eclavdra would consign the multiverse to thrall-dom to further her own ambitions. If she lives, let alone gains the Final Key, there will be terrible consequences. That is why I am so glad I found you, dear one, and you are with me. If there is no other choice, Gord, I must exchange my life for that of Eclavdra. I will die to see that she is expunged. If that must occur, then you will be there to take the last portion of the artifact to wherever you must."

"So two great demons contest for the Final Key, do they?" Gord said, reflecting on the words Leda had spoken. "Eclavdra on behalf of the one, but who for the other?"

"The dwarf," Leda said with hatred plain on her beautiful face. "Obmi."

"Aaah, him I am familiar with. There is a score to settle between us," he said, patting the place where his sword used to hang. "Blast! That filthy dungheap to fight, and me with no sword!"

Leda was practical. "If we find none to replace your loss before you must confront the dwarf, I shall give you my scimitar — a poor substitute for your own blade, I know, but better than nothing. We both have handicaps, Gord, but we also have a great advantage."

"Namely?"

"Eclavdra and Obmi came bent on taking the Final Key each for themselves. Both are demon-serving filth, but they will oppose and hinder each other while we work as a team, you and I. Eclavdra fights against three, and so does Obmi, but we have but two foes, do you see?"

"Oh, yes, I understand that well enough, Leda.

You are apt in your reasoning, but you overlook a major factor. Who else will accompany those two?"

The dark elf frowned. "Let me think… So, you are right," she said after a bit. "Eclavdra's memories contain a plan which includes many retainers, a half-dozen at least, able and well-equipped so as to counter whatever force Obmi brings in support of his effort."

"Will these factions slay each other?"

"The contest allows for such, but they would fight us first, I fear. I guess I was too quick to think us victors, too overconfident," she said ruefully, looking at Gord with a downcast air.

The young thief cocked his head, considering the matter. "Yes and no. With that intelligence, Leda, we are better prepared for the enemies we must face, so we have an advantage — surprise. They have no such information. True, the drow might have an inkling of your presence, girl, but not so with Obmi. Neither foe will know of me — unless I choose to reveal that fact. Now, let us plan, for to be prepared is to hold a host of weapons… and speaking of which, we must also attempt to find me some suitable blade. That dwarf is a doughty fighter, and his hammer is to be respected."

They conferred for a time, and then Leda used magic to bring them food and drink. Rested and refreshed, the two continued on, discussing their plans as they went. After a time Leda suggested that they were ascending a passage that must make its way up some high plateau in the heart of the Ashen Desert, for she concurred with Gord's earlier assessment. Were they not so doing, they would certainly be amid the wastes by now, for their pathway still climbed gradually upward. All mountains, even the high hills, of the ruined empire had been eaten away and brought down by the devastation that was brought upon Suel. Nubs and mounds only remained. Yet a great plateau might have, must have, withstood the colorless fire that devoured the rest.

That's it, Leda!" Gord exclaimed suddenly. Think of a river which began on a plateau, flowed there and grew, then plunged down to the land below, cutting a deep bed and feeding some great lake. That is what the rift, and this way, bring to mind."

The dark elf thought a moment. "You might be right, for with great magic and many workers, the thing could be done by such ones as once ruled these lands. Would not their chief city, their grand capital, be situated on such a river as you envision?"

"If they had any inkling of what might befall them, Leda, they would utilize the natural advantages to make their secret hideaway too. The destruction would end the flow of water, but a remainder would continue deep underground — a supply for the survivors to use for generations, if not forever."

Then this passage — actually an old riverbed, it seems — should eventually bring us to the City Out of Mind itself, Gord."

There was doubt on the young man's face as he replied, "We will travel another hundred and more miles, all of it underground? This seems too farfetched."

At that Leda laughed. "You are a surface-dweller, dear Gord, and not steeped in the darkness which exists beneath the world where sun and moons shed their rays. A hundred miles? That is no distance at all! There are tens of hundreds of miles of passageways in the subterranean realms, my dearest one. Be assured, this is certainty the route for safety and survival that the lords of the lost empire laid down for themselves an eon ago."

Leda's words were indeed prophetic.