mere inches from the powdery fragments that had fallen as the bed crumbled. He scanned the floor from one end to the next and sat back.
“Did you find anything?” Ortis asked.
Angus shook his head. “No,” he admitted. “I thought there would be something, too. Why put the bed here?”
Ortis grew distant for a few seconds and then said, “Giorge has an idea; he’s coming to take a look.”
“What’s his idea?” Angus asked.
“I don’t know,” Ortis said. “He didn’t tell me.”
Angus picked up the Lamplight, stood up, and held it above him, checking the wall and ceiling for a trapdoor. By the time Giorge arrived, he had finished looking at the ceiling along the wall where the bed had been. Giorge blinked when he walked in, turned his eyes away from the Lamplight, and handed his torch to Ortis.
“Well, Giorge, what’s your idea?” Angus asked.
Giorge grinned and said, “I think they moved the bed over there to delay pursuit.” He moved to the opposite wall and asked, “Can you bring that thing over here?”
Angus followed with him as he scanned the ceiling and upper portion of the wall. Then he turned to the floor. After only a few seconds, he dropped down to his knees and tilted his head sideways, almost level with the floor. He grinned, and snapped up, clapping his hand. “There it is!” he cried. “Can you see it?”
Angus and Ortis both shook their heads.
“It’s a very thin seam,” Giorge said, tracing it with his fingertip. “You can barely see it. It’s as if dwarves had carved the cap. Their stonework is so precise that they can make it fit perfectly.”
“Can you open it?” Ortis asked.
Giorge shook his head. “There aren’t any handholds,” he said. “There has to be some kind of release mechanism. A panel, lever, lock—it could be a lot of things.”
“How thick do you think the stone is?” Ortis asked. “Could Hobart break through it?”
“No way to tell,” Giorge said. “But I’d rather find the release mechanism. If there’s a lot of treasure down there, we may have to leave some of it behind and make a return trip. Breaking through the door will leave it exposed.”
“So,” Ortis asked, “where’s the release mechanism?”
“It has to be nearby,” Giorge said. “Boltholes like this need to be accessible. If it isn’t in this room, it will be in the one adjacent to that wall or in the corridor opposite this one. Either of those would be close to this corner. Further away than that, and the mechanics become far more complicated. There’s also a chance that it won’t work after all this time.”
“Tell us what to look for,” Ortis said. “I’m with Hobart in the other room and out in the corridor.”
“All right,” Giorge said. “It could be a panel in the wall; if it is, all you’ll have to do is push on it. It could be a keyhole; if it is, it will probably be in this room or the corridor, and it’s likely to be small. Don’t be surprised if there’s a panel covering it.”
“How small?” Ortis asked.
“As small as an inch,” Giorge said. “Maybe even less. Don’t leave any part of the wall untouched.”
“We may have trouble reaching up to the ceiling in here,” Angus said.
“It won’t be up that high,” Giorge said. “It needs to be reached in a hurry. Check from a foot above eye level to a foot below it, first. It’s the easiest place to reach when you’re in a hurry. I’ll check this spot and—”
“You said it could be a lever, right?” Ortis interrupted. “There’s a sconce in the corridor along this wall, but it isn’t large enough to hold a torch. I tried to put mine in it, and it wouldn’t fit.”
“Outside this wall?” Giorge asked, pointing to the wall in front of him. When Ortis nodded, he sprang to his feet and hurried out of the room. As he went, he called, “Kneel by the trapdoor and tell me if you hear anything. Not too close, though; it may spring upward.”
Angus moved close to the trapdoor and turned his head to listen. About ten minutes later, there was a soft click, and the trapdoor rose about three inches, just enough for a handhold to appear. “That’s it!” Angus cried, reaching for the handhold—and stopping himself from opening it.
What if it’s trapped?
He shook his head. Why would they trap their escape route?
He reached for the handhold again—but stopped again. To keep out their pursuers.
By the time he stood and stepped back, Giorge was in the room. “What?” he said, grinning. “You didn’t take a peek?” He knelt before the trapdoor and flung it open.
“What is it?” Angus asked.
“A tunnel,” Giorge said. “It runs under the floor along this wall.” He stuck his head through the trapdoor for a moment, and then brought it back up. “It’s a crawlspace. I couldn’t see very far. Give me a torch—” he paused and gestured at the Lamplight glowing in Angus’s hand. “Can I use that thing?”
Angus nodded and attached the Lamplight to Giorge’s shoulder.
Giorge laughed as the Lamplight followed him through the trapdoor. The tunnel was short, and the top of his head was still above the floor. Then he paused and turned back to Angus. “This is the spell you cast on me in Wyrmwood, isn’t it?”
Angus nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “But I attached it to your forehead that time.”
Giorge poked it with his finger—which passed through the glowing orb—and shook his head. “It’s not as hot.”
Angus half-smiled and asked, “Would you like it to be?”
Giorge shook his head and dipped down below the lip of the trapdoor, and the room suddenly grew much darker.
“I’ll get the torch,” Ortis said as he stepped out of the room.
Angus moved to the trapdoor and dropped down into it. The crawlspace was barely four feet high and less than that wide. It seemed to run straight for quite some distance, but he couldn’t tell how far; Giorge was in his way. There were no side tunnels that he could see, and he stayed crouched at the entrance until Giorge stopped.
“What is it?” Angus called when Giorge hadn’t moved for nearly a minute.
Giorge looked back and waved him forward. When Angus was almost up to him, Giorge turned sideways and said, “There’s another trapdoor. It’s stuck.”
“Are you sure?” Angus asked.
Giorge took hold of the handle and pulled. It didn’t budge. “I think it’s barred from the other side.”
“Let me try,” Angus said, squeezing past him. He pulled on the handle but the trap door didn’t budge.
“See?” Giorge said. “We need Hobart down here. He might be able to do it. But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“It must not be a wooden bar,” Angus said. “If it was, it would have crumbled when we pulled at it.”
Giorge nodded. “Iron, most likely. If it’s rusted, Hobart might be able to snap it.”
“Let’s find out,” Angus said, turning down the tunnel.
“I’ll check the rest of the tunnel,” Giorge said from behind him, moving down the corridor.
“Don’t go too far,” Angus called.
12
With a mighty heave, Hobart wrenched the trapdoor open.
Then he banged his head on the ceiling and cursed for five minutes.
13
“What did you find at the other end of the corridor?” Angus asked.
“Another trapdoor,” Giorge said. “It opened in the room at the end of the other corridor. They must have had two bolthole entrances, and they both led to here.”
“We’re going to need our gear,” Hobart said. “The floor is too far down for jumping.”
“Let me take a look,” Giorge said.
After Hobart moved back a bit—a difficult thing to do for him; the tunnel was scarcely wide enough for his broad, armored shoulders—Giorge put his hands to either side of the trapdoor opening and shoved his head into it. After a few seconds, he lifted it again and said, “You can lower me down. It’s only about twenty fee
t.”
“It’s too far—”
“No,” Giorge said. “I’ve fallen further before.”
“Let’s just wait for the rope,” Hobart said, crossing his arms.
Giorge sighed, sat back on his heels, and waited.
“What did you see?” Angus asked from behind Hobart.
“It’s a big room supported by pillars,” Giorge said. “There are about a dozen or so skeletons scattered on the floor and some kind of pit in the center. It looks like there’s a stairwell leading down, but I can’t be sure.”
When Ortis brought the rope, Hobart held onto it while Giorge slid down into the chamber they had discovered. When he let go of the rope, Hobart handed the rope to Angus and crawled to the other side of the trapdoor. He repositioned himself to face Angus by lying down, rolling over, and then sitting back up.
“Toss me the rope,” he said. “I’ll hold it while you and Ortis climb down. See if there is anything down there that we can use to prop the trapdoor open. If you find something, we can anchor the rope to the handle on the trapdoor. If there isn’t anything, I’ll find something up here after the rest of you get down there.”
It was, as Giorge said, about a twenty foot drop. There had been a ladder, but it had long since disintegrated, leaving behind a pile of sawdust at the bottom of the drop.
“Well?” Hobart called from above him. “Is there anything we can use? Or do we have to get something from up here?”
“Give me a minute to look around,” Angus said. “It’s a large chamber.”
When he saw the skeletons, Angus brought the magic energy into focus, but the skeletons did not radiate the tell-tale black tendrils of the dead-but-not. The only thing magical in the