Bek listened with growing despair, aware of how completely he had been duped into doing just what Shadea had wanted him to do in the first place. Now he was a prisoner and unable to do anything to help either Pen or his sister. At least they were both alive. He could assume that much from what she had just told him. He could also assume she would try to change that.

They continued down until he smelled the damp and felt the cold of the deep underground. Somewhere not too far away, he heard water running. The heat of the Druid Fire was absent, as if that part of the Keep was far removed from the earth-warmed core.

Finally, they arrived at a corridor lined with heavy doors kept closed by iron bolts thrown through iron rings. His captors opened one of the doors and placed him in the tiny room beyond, a space barely larger than a closet. There was a wooden bed, straw, and a bucket. The floor, ceiling, and walls were rough and uneven and had been hollowed out of the bedrock.

They untied his arms and legs, but left his gag in place.

“Remove the gag when I am gone,” Shadea said. “But first, listen to what I have to say. Behave yourself, and you might come out of this alive. I am locking your beloved wife up separately, in a place far away from you, somewhere you can’t find her easily. I know stone walls and iron doors can’t hold you, but they can hold her. If you try to escape, if your guards even think you are trying to escape, she will be killed at once. Do you understand?”

Pen nodded without speaking.

“Those guards will be stationed on each floor leading up, at each door, and they will communicate with each other regularly. If someone fails to answer, that will be the end of your chances of seeing your wife alive again. Behave yourself, and you and your family might still survive this.”

She motioned the Gnome Hunters back into the corridor, followed them out, closed the door with a heavy thud, and threw the bolt.

Standing alone in the darkness and listening to their receding footsteps, Bek Ohmsford was certain of one thing. No matter what Shadea a’Ru said, if he didn’t find a way to get out of there on his own, he wasn’t getting out at all.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

FOURTEEN

“I’ve been thinking about what I said to you yesterday,” Pen said, sitting down beside Cinnaminson. It was midday, and he had been searching for her for almost an hour.