Extinction

Valas stared into the darkened room, listening intently. Of the wraiths there was no sign, but that was not unusual. Wraiths could pass through walls, and they might appear at any moment. Nor was there any sign of the bodies of the rogue's companions. Again, that was not surprising. Risen again as wights, they probably left through the ruined door in search of fresh meat?only to be cut to pieces by the blade traps that lined the corridor. Their stench, however, lingered in the still air… or did it?

Glancing up at the ceiling again, Valas saw a skull nested in one of the tangles of tree root that bulged down into the room. The vault must have been built under a graveyard. The surface elves were known for planting trees atop the graves of their dead. With all of the moldering corpses that lay just above the ceiling, it was no wonder wraiths were drawn to the place.

Pharaun crept up behind Valas and stared down into the vault.

See anything? the Master of Sorcere signed.

Transferring both daggers into one hand, Valas shook his head and replied, I see no sign of the wraiths?or of the portal.

If it's here, you soon will, Pharaun signed back.

The wizard began whispering the words to a spell. He passed a hand through the air, palm toward the room. After a moment, a circle at the center of the room began to glow a faint purple.

There, he signed, pointing.

Valas made a mental note of the spot, then continued watching and waiting. Since magic had disturbed the air of the vault, the wraiths would likely appear that much sooner. Assuming, that was, that the rogues story had been accurate.

The fellow had claimed the vault still held treasure?something Valas hadn't told his companions, since it might have distracted them from their mission?but the room was clearly empty. Perhaps the rogue had been lying about the wraiths, as well. Neither the sudden appearance of a magic-hewn tunnel in one wall of the vault nor the divination Pharaun had just cast had brought them out into the open. If wraiths had once haunted that place where the gods frowned in stony silence, they seemed to have gone.

But that didn't mean Valas wouldn't take precautions. Hanging around his neck on a delicate gold chain was an amulet crafted by the surface elves and shaped like a golden sun. He pulled it out from under his armor and kissed it, then let it hang free against his chest, ignoring Pharaun's raised eyebrows. If any wraiths did turn up, it would protect him.

For a while, at least.

You and the others should make a run for it, he signed. With a running start and a leap, you should be able to levitate down onto the portal without touching anything in the room. I'll use my amulet to make the jump. With luck, the wraiths?if there are any?won't even know we're here.

You're forgetting that Danifae can't levitate, Pharaun signed.

Valas groaned?softly. Was he the only one capable of tactical thinking?

Use one of your spells on her?the one that enables you to leap around like a flea. She'll be able to make the portal in one or two jumps. He paused, then added, Just make sure she goes last. She'll be the clumsiest?if there are wraiths here, it will be her noise that attracts them.

Pharaun frowned at that but made no comment. Instead he raised a hand to his lips and pointed back down the tunnel, where Quenthel, Danifae, and Jeggred waited.

"We're through," he breathed, his spell carrying his whispered words to Quenthel. "The portal looks clear?and active. Come quickly, but quietly."

Valas, still intently watching the room below, heard a faint clink of armor from the far end of the tunnel?Danifae and Quenthel moving along it?and the faint click-click of Jeggred's elongated toe-nails on the stone. He gritted his teeth, praying that his companions would learn the value of moving silently?and learn it soon. Then he heard the clicking pause and the sound of a low growl.

His patience at an end, Valas spun around, an oath on his lips. He saw Quenthel moving toward him, leading the others down the corridor. Danifae was just behind her, but Jeggred was lagging several paces to the rear and was looking back over his shoulder, still growling.

Mistress! Valas signed angrily. Tell Jeggred to keep?

Before he could finish, the relative silence was split by a fierce roar. Jeggred launched himself back down the tunnel, bellowing his battle howl as his claws scrambled on the floor. In another instant, Valas saw what had triggered the draegloth's attack.

Two twisted caricatures that had once been duergar, with claws as long as Jeggred's own and mouths filled with needle-sharp teeth, were stalking up behind them. Rotted clothing hung from them in tatters, and their hair was a tangled mass, crusted with dirt. Their eyes blazed with the malevolence with which all undead regarded the living. Unlike the drow they'd been stalking, the two wights moved in utter silence. Seeing they had been spotted, they ran forward to meet Jeggred's charge.