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[Lazybones]

Chapter 43


Mara leaned back against the wall, overcome by exhaustion. She was too tired to sleep, even if it had been safe to drift off, which it most definitely was not. Lifting her head took an effort, but she forced herself to do it, to look at the huddled group of halflings who sat together in a quiet knot across from her. They had come a lot further than she had, she reminded herself, had been prisoners for much longer.

The two human miners lay on the floor a short distance apart from the halflings. They’d collapsed into sleep almost instantly on their stopping. Even in the weak light from their single lamp—they were rationing their oil—she could see the dark bruises that covered the face of Harek, the dirty bandages that covered Calder’s feet.

She rubbed her wrists, where the marks from her shackles were still visible. It would be a while before they healed. Longer still before the other marks of her captivity faded. If they lived long enough for that to happen.

A faint noise startled her, and she reached for the spear that was never far from her side. She’d risen to a crouch before she recognized the source of the sound.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” Jaron said, materializing out of the darkness like a wraith. She still hadn’t gotten used to how the halflings could see in the dark now. But it was damned useful trait to have in this place, she had to admit. The black goggles, which glistened in the weak light from the lamp, gave him an odd, alien look, like he was some sort of half-man, half-insect creature doomed to wander these deep halls for eternity.

She shook her head to try to clear it as she gestured him closer. Her mind was wandering down some weird pathways of late.

“Are they still following?”

Jaron shot a brief glance at the halflings from his village that Mara didn’t miss. He nodded. “Beetle’s attempt to draw them off down one of the side passages didn’t work, at least not for long. I didn’t get a close look, but there’s definitely more of them, including a wizard that I think I saw back at the Horned Hold.”

“Sounds like you stirred up quite the hornet’s nest there,” Mara replied.

“Yeah, they’re more persistent that I thought they’d be.”

“I imagine their reputation depends on not letting slaves escape. Especially since they lied to the dragonborn about having us as prisoners. If we make it back to the Hall, that deception could make trouble for them.”

“That’s a big ‘if’ right now,” Jaron said, his voice heavy, though he made an effort to keep his despair from showing on his face.

After fleeing the battle at the intersection, they’d made their way quickly back away from the surviving duergar, looking for another route back to the Hall. The goblin Gru had disappeared, leaving them without a guide. Mara had a general idea of the layout of the Labyrinth, at least the main passages, but she hadn’t been in this part of the complex before. Jaron certainly wasn’t comfortable in leading them into some of the tight, narrow side passages they passed, especially given Gru’s warnings from before about leaving the main tunnels. But they had been moving farther away from the Hall with each step.

A few hours back, they’d passed the fork that led back to the Horned Hold. There was no question about that decision, but shortly thereafter they’d come across another split, with one fork bearing off to the left. As far as Jaron had been able to judge, that choice led more toward the direction of the Seven-Pillared Hall, so they’d headed that way.

They hadn’t gone far before the tunnel started to descend, gently at first, the slope barely noticeable. Jaron had been worried, but they’d pressed on, only to come to a sharper fall, with the corridor starting to bend back upon itself, forming switchbacks that grew ever steeper. That had been alarming enough for Jaron to suggest retreat, but that had been when Beetle had suddenly appeared to report that dark dwarves were following them.

Leaving no choice but to go forward.

“Get everyone together,” Mara said. “We’re moving out.”