Free The Lost Library of Cormanthyr by Mel Odom

merchant’s case.
    Baylee moved along the chamber. In a few places, faded messages were scratched on the walls with the points of daggers or sharp rocks. Nearly all of the writings were pleas for help, or hopes that others would bury them decently. Some of them were prayers to a handful of deities. Apparently none of them had been answered. It was almost enough to make a man give up religion.
    Gifted as he was by native imagination, trained as he had been under Golsway’s critical eye and demanding mien, Baylee slipped easily into an understanding of what the poor wretches’ last few hours must have been like. Trapped in the throat of the well, some of them perhaps trying to stay afloat, yelling hoarsely till fatigue or their injuries finally took them, despair had undoubtedly filled them.
    The feeling was leaden in his mind, making him aware of the thick, still air around him. Dust coated his exposed skin now, and perspiration cut rivulets through it. With effort, he pushed the feelings from him. His affinity for getting the sense of places and things had always stood him well. But it was a two-edged sword because those feelings could overwhelm him if he wasn’t careful.
    Without warning, the sound of rattling bones came to the ranger’s ears. He turned back toward Jaeleen, in the direction the sound had come from. She was prying a pouch from under a tangle of bodies. The skin it had been crafted of had split in two areas, revealing a few silver pieces.
    Baylee’s senses came on full alert. Something had broken the spell of silence. Jaeleen halted her efforts to get the bag, though she did not relinquish it. Crouched down, she turned her head to look at the ranger over her shoulder. “Baylee?”
    Before he could think to frame an answer, movement exploded from the pile of skeletons in front of the woman, hurling bones whirling madly in all directions. A predator’s wail of triumph filled the chamber.

4
    Baylee caught Jaeleen’s shoulder and yanked her back as the shaggy creature rose from the pile of skeletons. The ranger pulled the woman with him as he retreated across the chamber. His torch and Jaeleen’s lamp threw uncertain light across the thing that pursued them.
    It stood over six feet tall and had been a big man in life. It was emaciated now, even for one of its kind. The grayish skin stretched tight over the bone structure, making the face appear blocky and misshapen. Wild hair alternately curled tight to the scalp and jutted out in unruly tufts. Dark circles shuttered the narrow eyes fired by unreasoning hunger. A long, thick tongue flicked out from between crooked, elongated teeth. The dry mouth cracked as it opened, and the sound of the tongue passing over the thirst-bloated lips rasped through the chamber. Clothing hung from the creature in shreds, scarcely covering the pallid body.
    What is it? Xuxa called. Her telepathic ability didn’t allow her to see through his eyes.
    A ghoul, Baylee replied as he looked around the scattered bones for a weapon he could use. Ghouls were very dangerous, and fighting one in such close quarters was not a good plan.
    The creature moved slowly, its joints and sinews snapping and popping with the effort. Evidently it had been in the well for a long time, probably drawn by the scent of decay. Once in, it had been unable to scale the walls and get back out.
    Jaeleen brought her hand crossbow up and fired a bolt into the ghoul’s face.
    The bolt thudded into the ghoul’s cheek with the sound of a knife splitting into an over-ripe melon. Stuck there, the bolt shoved its way between the creature’s jaw, wedging it open and exposing the sharp teeth inside through the gaping flap of skin. There was little blood. Baylee guessed that the creature had been near the end of its unnatural life at the time they had entered the well.
    The wound also unleashed a noxious odor.
    The ghoul roared with rage, struggling to get the cry out of its parched lips and past the embedded bolt.