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Assault Upon the Gate of Tears - Part 4b: Inner Conspiracies
Quintus walked up to Kham and in his usual booming voice, said, “Here’s your scimitar back. What have you discovered?”
Kham put one finger to his lips. Then he put two fingers up and pointed at the door.
Something heavy thudded on the other side of the door.
“They’ve heard us,” said Ilmarė. “It sounds like furniture is being moved.”
Kham shook his head at Quintus. “Do you have to shout everything?”
“What?” boomed Quintus. “This is my usual speaking voice.”
“No help for it now,” said Vlad. “I’m going in!”
He kicked the door open and charged forward, only to discover an antechamber with another door half-open.
Vlad ran up to it and peered in. A long corridor opened into a larger room. “I don’t see anyone inside, but the desk is turned over.”
“Something’s wrong,” said Ilmarė, standing hesitantly at the first door.
Quintus ducked in behind Vlad, shield up. “I don’t see anyone either.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s no one here,” said Holden, taking up a position to the left of the second door with rifle in hand.
Kham shrugged. “I’ll keep looking for an exit out of this damned place.” He disappeared out of sight down the hall.
“Fulgur sagitta!”
There was a horrible pop as a bolt of lightning tore its way through the corridor. Quintus hunkered down behind his shield, but the electrical energy blasted right through him.
When his vision cleared, Vlad was leaning against the corridor, smoke billowing up from his armor. Quintus had managed to avoid the brunt of the blast thanks to his shield. Holden fired back into the room with his rifle at the unseen attacker. Vlad stumbled backwards. Someone ducked behind the overturned desk.
“Well,” said Quintus, rising to his feet. “There’s definitely somebody in there.”
“We’ve got to press him!” shouted Vlad. “Quintus, come on!” With gritted teeth, the warrior spun back into the corridor and charged down it.
“Ilmarė, Holden, cover us!” shouted Quintus.
Holden was busy reloading his rifle but he grunted in affirmation. There was no sound from Ilmarė.
A cold, hard knot fell to the bottom of Quintus’ stomach. He looked over his shoulder.
“Ilmarė…?”
Quintus walked up to Kham and in his usual booming voice, said, “Here’s your scimitar back. What have you discovered?”
Kham put one finger to his lips. Then he put two fingers up and pointed at the door.
Something heavy thudded on the other side of the door.
“They’ve heard us,” said Ilmarė. “It sounds like furniture is being moved.”
Kham shook his head at Quintus. “Do you have to shout everything?”
“What?” boomed Quintus. “This is my usual speaking voice.”
“No help for it now,” said Vlad. “I’m going in!”
He kicked the door open and charged forward, only to discover an antechamber with another door half-open.
Vlad ran up to it and peered in. A long corridor opened into a larger room. “I don’t see anyone inside, but the desk is turned over.”
“Something’s wrong,” said Ilmarė, standing hesitantly at the first door.
Quintus ducked in behind Vlad, shield up. “I don’t see anyone either.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s no one here,” said Holden, taking up a position to the left of the second door with rifle in hand.
Kham shrugged. “I’ll keep looking for an exit out of this damned place.” He disappeared out of sight down the hall.
“Fulgur sagitta!”
There was a horrible pop as a bolt of lightning tore its way through the corridor. Quintus hunkered down behind his shield, but the electrical energy blasted right through him.
When his vision cleared, Vlad was leaning against the corridor, smoke billowing up from his armor. Quintus had managed to avoid the brunt of the blast thanks to his shield. Holden fired back into the room with his rifle at the unseen attacker. Vlad stumbled backwards. Someone ducked behind the overturned desk.
“Well,” said Quintus, rising to his feet. “There’s definitely somebody in there.”
“We’ve got to press him!” shouted Vlad. “Quintus, come on!” With gritted teeth, the warrior spun back into the corridor and charged down it.
“Ilmarė, Holden, cover us!” shouted Quintus.
Holden was busy reloading his rifle but he grunted in affirmation. There was no sound from Ilmarė.
A cold, hard knot fell to the bottom of Quintus’ stomach. He looked over his shoulder.
“Ilmarė…?”
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