City of Torment Read Online Free PDF Page B

from the nautilus’s interior with a delicate chest fashioned of polished mother-of-pearl plates and placed it at her feet. Nogah whispered the pass phrase that bypassed the magical trap, and popped the lid. Amid the clutter of needful things lay several vials. She selected a few and closed the chest before Curampah was able to see and understand the nature of all her treasures. “These,” explained Nogah, “are magical draughts brewed in Sembia. I got them from Captain Thoster. You remember Thoster? His birth was an unlooked-for complication, but it has proved useful. In any event, if imbibed, this liquid allows humanoids to breathe water.” Curampah merely blinked, but Nogah recognized the confusion that tightened his scales. “You wonder what use these are to us; after all, as a superior breed, we can already breathe air and water both. However, another effect of the elixir renders the imbiber immune to the crushing weight of extreme watery depths. It shall work for us as well as for any humanoid.” She handed the junior whip one of the vials. He carefully removed the wax-sealed stopper and sucked its contents down without mixing too much of it with the surrounding water. She did the same with her own elixir. It tasted of salt and kelp. Curampah examined his hands and scaled forearms. He said, “I feel no different.” “We shall see,” she replied. Nogah gave a slight tug on the reins, enough that the nautilus shell moved several body lengths away from the green stone and the black six-sided door. “Now, Curampah�open that metallic door. Let us discover what these mind flayers worked so feverishly to uncover.” She gestured to the entrance with her staff. The junior whip pushed away from the coach deck and swam toward the door embedded in the green mantle stone. To his credit, he merely hesitated, saying nothing, when he realized he swam alone while she remained behind, watching. She judged the protective effect surrounding the coach ended somewhere halfway between the nautilus and the door. When he made it all the way to the six-sided valve without ill effect, Nogah joined him. Unsealing the valve was a lengthy process. Having no other way to force it, the two whips were finally reduced to directing co-generated strokes of lightning against the dull metal. Again. And again. They rested between each blast just long enough to rekindle their capacity to produce the next electrical discharge. Each subsequent blast showed some effect, just enough to hint that persistence would eventually sear the metal through. The only question was, how many bolts? Nogah fretted. The effects of the elixir were temporary. Worse, the undead mind flayer was likely regenerating its own strength while they spent theirs against the stubborn entranceway. Finally, the valve seared through. Inrushing water snatched both her and Curampah, wrenching them through the irregular, red-hot puncture. Agonizing heat seared her flank. A mesh of madly spinning bubbles blinded her. The inrushing water dredged her forward, down an irregularly dug tunnel. She tumbled wildly, end over end. She flailed, trying to get a hold on something, anything. A muffled scream sounded somewhere within the roar of rushing water. Was it Curam� A jutting rock smashed her temple, and she screamed too. She was hurtled along, her voice lost in the boil of crushing water. Nogah’s mind whirled as she tried to gain her bearings. She was able to do so only when the inrushing water finally filled the space beyond the door. Though remnants of turbulence still spiraled around the narrow tunnel, Nogah managed to halt her forward momentum. Bruised and burnt, the whip praised the Sea Mother for her survival. She floated in cold darkness. A figure drifted past her, limp and slowly revolving. It was Curampah. His arms were broken, and his head bore a terrible puncture from which dark fluid thickly jetted into the water, spiraling around his drifting body. She hissed, a loss