Free Depths of Madness by Erik Scott de Bie Page A

defenders. Had Twilight been alone, she might have done just that to see what treasures she might find, but she had a band of squabblers to look out for. And after Arandon, her heart wasn’t in it.
    In their search of the crypt, the women found little more than dust and ash, a great many claw marks, and a series of runes carved on the walls and sarcophagi, filled in with something that looked like dried blood. They looked much like the symbol they had seen earlier on the stairs, but Twilight prevented Slip from springing any traps.
    By the time they return, Twilight and Slip found the others engaged in a familiar activity: bickering. A part of her supposed it wasn’t so bad—they couldn’t be panicked and fearful if they were busy. Still, it grated.
    “If not for me, none of you would be alive,” growled Davoren. His face was still horribly cut, but the bleeding had subsided. It made him even uglier.
    “And if not for Corellon’s might,” countered Taslin, “the first rush of those creatures would have overwhelmed us and slain you. Your art could hold only so many.”
    Davoren seized on the approaching elf and halfling for more bolts to loose. “If your accursed cave shrimp had paid attention, I would have destroyed them all.” He clenched his fist. “If you blade swingers knew your role and served your purpose—”
    “Hey,” cried Slip. “I’m no one’s accursed cave shrimp but my own!”
    Twilight wasted no breath protesting the argument.
    Instead, she walked into their midst and shoved Taslin bodily away. The sun elf staggered, dumbfounded. Twilight put a finger in her face. ” ‘Twas your insults that took us off our guard,” she said. “Asson’s injury is your fault. Take responsibility for your own actions, sun.”
    Taslin stared.
    “And Davoren,” Twilight said. “Try and focus, if your little
    mind can stand it, on the matter at hand, lest something more than scarring befalls you next time.”
    His gray face went red. “How dare you lecture me, you—”
    She unsheathed her dusky blade in the blink of an eye and leveled it at Davoren’s throat. The others flinched at her speed.
    Twilight stared at him. “Care to finish that bit?”
    The warlock backed down with a scowl.
    “The next one of you who insults another of us loses a tongue,” Twilight said sharply. “Then a nose, then an eye, then the other. Then I get creative. Understand?”
    Davoren nodded, smirking.
    Twilight drew the blade away and looked at Taslin. “And if anyone doubts I have the sand to do it, as we say in the Shining South, I’d be more than happy to demonstrate.” She traced tiny circles through the air with her blade.
    No one spoke. Oblivious to their camaraderie in it, Taslin and Davoren both stared at Twilight with shock and loathing. Slip looked horrified. Even Asson, who had struggled to his feet again with many coughs, fixed Twilight with an angry look.
    “We survive together, or we die apart,” said Twilight. “If those wights are any indication of what’s waiting, we need everyone. Understand?” She stared hard at Davoren. “Everyone.”
    Davoren sneered, but nodded curtly. He moved away, presumably to find a soft spot to rest. The other adventurers followed suit.
    Twilight stood for another long moment, then sheathed her rapier. When no one spoke, she whirled away and padded off.
    Before she had taken two steps, Taslin caught her by the arm. Twilight expected a rebuke, but instead the sun elf s eyes revealed shame.
    “You were right,” the priestess said. “I apologize for my foolishness.”
    Twilight eyed Liet, watching her surreptitiously from a distance, as she answered.
    “I don’t want you to apologize,” she said evenly. “I want you to obey.”
    Taslin gaped.
    With that, Twilight shook herself free of the [priestess’s grip and sat down on one of the overturned sarcophagi. She pulled a knee up to her chin and rested her head on it watching the others. Silence reigned. The others ignored