Page 55 of Paladin's Hope

The tide slowly receded. The machine still moved, but only in aimless twitches, the motions of a snake with the head cut off. The blade lay half-severed, the tail joints broken.

“It’s dead,” someone said from the doorway. “It’s dead, Galen. You can stop.”

Someone. He knew them. Not the enemy, no matter what the tide might say. Not the enemy. Someone who had been in his arms, breathing against him. Piper. Yes. Not the enemy. The enemy was dead, if it had ever been alive in the first place.

He stepped back and shook himself. The tide never went away, but it receded. Ankle deep instead of over his head. Yes.

Galen turned and saw Piper and Earstripe in the doorway, watching him. The wariness in Piper’s eyes hurt more than he expected. “It’s fine,” he croaked. “I’m fine. It’s over.”

Piper crossed the distance between them in seconds. Galen wasn’t sure if the man was trying to embrace him or trying to keep him from collapsing where he stood. Possibly a little of both. “You’re hurt,” said Piper, getting a shoulder under his arm. “Sit down, for god’s sake.”

“Not here,” mumbled Galen. “Is the door open?”

“No,” said Earstripe, “but a gnole sees a panel.” He went to the door, giving the dying machine a wide berth, and pressed it.

For a long, long moment, no one breathed, and then the door slid silently open. Through the doorway, Galen could see another door standing open, and the darkness of the cellar beyond.

“We’re out,” he said. “We did it. We got through.”

As one, they bolted. No one had to voice the thought that the door might close again and trap them. Earstripe was through first, and Piper and Galen hobbled out like partners in a three-legged race.

The wet air of the cellar tasted like fine wine. Galen hadn’t realized how dry the air inside the maze was, or how badly his lips and skin and sinuses had dried out. He drew in a lungful and almost didn’t care how badly his ribs hurt in response.

“You’re hurt,” said Piper. “Sit down—let me look at you—”

“Not yet,” he said hoarsely. The adrenaline of the fight would last him a little longer, and he knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. “There’s still our gracious host to deal with.”

“Ah, yes,” said Thomas, from the top of the stairs. “I was wondering when you’d remember me.”

Twenty-Four

“I am very, very impressed,” said Thomas. “I mean that very sincerely.” The tip of the crossbow he held didn’t waver. It had a nasty man-killing head, pointing down at the trio. “I never expected that you’d make it through. At best, I thought you might manage another room or two, and I was hoping I could determine how you had died. But this! You got the door open, no less!” He smiled warmly at them, and Piper was struck by the thought that he was entirely sincere.

“He can only shoot one of us,” said Galen quietly. “Then he has to reload. We can rush the stairs.”

“Don’t think you can take another hit, tomato-man.”

Galen gave a soft, ragged laugh. “Then let him shoot me. I’m expendable now.”

“Not what a gnole meant.”

“No one is expendable,” hissed Piper. He raised his voice and stepped forward. “Anyway, he won’t shoot me.”

“I assure you, I will,” said Thomas. “Regretfully, mind you. It’s rare to find someone who appreciates the ancients as I do. But I will shoot.”

Piper put his foot on the first stair. Galen grabbed for his shoulder and Piper shook him off. The fact that he could shake the paladin off only cemented his resolve. Earstripe had been right. Galen was in poor shape after his fight with the machine. The paladin couldn’t take another hit. Certainly not a crossbow bolt. Piper had seen what a bolt like that could do to a human body. If it hit somewhere vital, it would punch a hole and the victim’s blood would drain out like wine from a barrel with the bung drawn.

“If you shoot me,” said Piper, “I won’t be able to tell you what I saw. I’ve figured it out. What it’s for. All of it.” Would Thomas buy that? Perhaps not. He gave a self-deprecating cough. “Well, almost all of it. I wouldn’t presume to say there’s no mysteries left.”

Thomas lifted his head just slightly. The lamplight glinted in his eyes. “Have you, now?”

“I have. You let my friends go, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Galen made a small noise of protest. Earstripe didn’t. Smarter than a paladin. Mind you, when it comes to expediency, paladins aren’t known for their wit.

Their captor clearly considered it. Piper could see him weighing the options, and risked putting his foot on the next stair. Thomas sighed regretfully. “As much as I’d like to hear your conclusions, I fear that you must think me a very great fool,” he said. “If I let these two go, they’ll just come back here with more men. I can’t risk damage to the ruins.” He sighted back down the crossbow.

“But—” Piper began.