The Sorcerer's Bane Read Online Free PDF

back up into the palace from the Necropolis. When Gruum and Nadja reached the level below the servants’ laundry, Gruum noticed something odd. Before, there are had been steamy heat here, but now the chambers seemed colder and dank. He shrugged to himself, dismissing his observation. It only made sense the laundry would shut down in the wee hours.
    They splashed further into the chambers and twisting stone passages. The chill increased until he stepped upon a puddle that had iced over. The ice cracked and the water beneath was so cold it formed slush upon his boot as he lifted it back up.
    “Oddly cold in here now,” Gruum said.
    Nadja did not turn, but kept moving ahead. “I like it,” she said.
    Gruum frowned and reached up to one of the bubbling outlets in the walls. Small vents let the warm water flow down into these chambers from the laundry above. This level operated as a giant drainage system. Gruum found the water coming down out of the vent was warm—almost hot to the touch. He ran his hand down the wall further, wondering at what point it turned cold. It was when his hand touched the floor itself that he recoiled in pain.
    “Ah!” he gasped, pulling back his fingers.
    Nadja stopped and returned. Her fluttering candle flame was a welcome sight. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “The floor. It is so cold that it burned me.”
    Nadja crouched at the spot. She ran her bare fingers down the wall as Gruum had.
    “Careful,” Gruum cautioned her.
    She smiled. “Hyborean skin is not so delicate as that!” she assured him. She ran her fingers freely over the floor where the hot water touched it and turned to slush, then rapidly to ice. She seemed completely comfortable with the experience. Just watching her touch the floor with bare fingers made Gruum wince.
    “You are right, it is cold,” she said in an odd tone of voice. “Even I can feel it. How very odd.”
    “What is below us?” Gruum asked her. “Right here?”
    She shrugged. “The servants’ quarter.”
    Gruum frowned at the walls. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the vent closely. It was shaped like a lion’s yawning mouth. He pulled up his tunic and cut away a long strip of cloth from the bottom. He rolled this into a tight ball and shoved it into the lion’s mouth.
    “What are you doing?” asked Nadja stepping near.
    “Perhaps we can find out where this vent leads by blocking the outlet.”
    Nadja giggled. “An evil trick. How do you think of these things?”
    “I’ve spent a lifetime performing evil tricks… according to some.”
    After they’d left the drainage level and wound up the side stair into the quiet corridors of the palace proper, Nadja put out her candle and took her leave.
    “You will not accompany me to the royal apartments?”
    She shook her head. “Father will be cross with me.”
    Gruum smiled. “I didn’t think you feared anything.”
    “I fear father. And you should too.”
    Gruum nodded. He watched her glide away down the hall and disappear. He noticed that she did not bother to relight her candle. He doubted she needed the tiny flame to see.
    He shook himself and made his way up to the King’s doors. He lifted his gloved hand to rap upon them, but found them standing ajar. Wary, he drew his saber and advanced into the room. The lamps were lit, and the room was brightly illuminated for once. A figure sat upon one of the silver-clawed chairs.
    “My King?” Gruum asked.
    The other turned. He could see now it was not Therian. It was in fact a woman dressed in black. It was a priestess of Anduin.
    “King Therian is away,” she said.
    Gruum eyed her warily. “What have you done here?” he asked sharply.
    “It is not what I have done!” said the priestess, standing and staring with blazing eyes. “I did not ask for this duty!”
    Gruum took another step, but then halted. He eyed not the priestess, but the floor. There were tiles everywhere, many with stubborn stains that would never bleach out.