Free The Howling Delve by Jaleigh Johnson Page A

Morgan.
    “What does the message mean?” Kali asked, still watching the half-elf. “Friends in the dark?”
    “Means diggers,” Laerin said. He winked at Kali.
    “Nothing wrong with digging,” Morgan agreed.
    Kail looked up at the boulder, but Cesira had gone.
    “She’s rejoined the druids,” Laerin explained. “But she’ll be back.” He pushed off the rock. “We should go. Garavin will be waiting.”
    Kail held the sparkling emeralds in his hand. The forest was eerily quiet, tense and uncertain in the wake of the goblin battle. In the distance, fires still burned.
    It would take a long time, Kail thought, but eventually the fotest would look as it had before. Maybe it would be stronger for all the damage it had suffered. Kail wondered if he would see the mist stags again.
    Turning, he followed Morgan and Laerin back to Garavin’s hut.

CHAPTER 8
    Esmeltaran, Amn
    2 EUint, the Year of the Banner (1368 DR)
    Three years later, the house looked exactly as he remembered it.
    Kali expected to meet the bulk of the resistance at the door, but there was only one guard, a skinny, tired-looking man who stood by the window, with a fist stuck in his mouth to stifle a yawn.
    Kail slid around the side of the house, beneath the windows facing the front hedgerows. He came up behind the guard and clipped him on the back of the head with the pommel of his sword. The guard crumpled; Kail caught him under the armpits and dragged him into the shadows behind the bushes.
    Returning to the door, he took out the set of lockpicks Laerin had given him and set to work. He hadn’t nearly the half-elf s skill, but what he lacked in grace he made up for with persistence. The lock gave way with a click.
    Inside the entry hall, lanterns were dimmed for sleep, but Kail knew his house well enough to feel his way. He listened for signs that someone had detected his presence, but he heard nothing.
    One inept guard at the door and no stirring in the house—it
    was too easy for Kail’s comfort. His father would never have permitted such a breach of his private space. A sinking unease filled Kail’s chest.
    He stepped forward, passing between two twisted columns. He heard the second click a heartbeat too late.
    Kali ducked, on the off chance the trap was aimed at his head, but the danger came from below. Metal spikes burst from camouflaged gaps in the marble floor, ringing him in a field of razors. If he’d been standing directly on top of one of them, Kali was certain he’d have lost a foot. A spike caught him in the calf, shearing away his boot like so much meat off the bone.
    Kail resisted the urge to jump back, lest he should trigger more of the deadly spikes. Regaining his balance, he began moving forward again, watching the floor for holes. He made it to the other side of the hall without encountering any further traps.
    In the shadows beneath the main staircase, Kali paused to listen again. He’d never known his father kept such deadly traps in his own home. Dhairr had always feared assassins—Kail had grown up with nightmares from listening to his father’s tales about shadowy, hidden foes—but this? It made his father seem a prisoner in his own home. What other secrets had Dhairr kept from him?
    He pushed the thoughts away. He had to find Balram. Someone was sure to have heard the trap go off. He was running out of time.
    The back wall by the staircase had only one door. It opened onto the garden between the main house and the towers. He could conceal himself better in the garden than the hall.
    Kali listened at the door, hearing a faint scraping sound coming from the other side. He tested the lock, but it was open. Slowly, he eased the door inward a crack.
    In the center of the garden, illuminated by faint moonglow, Dhairr Morel crouched in the fountain’s dry basin, digging at a jagged crack with his sword. The blade was dull and notched
    from repeated scrapes across the stone. A shrill, metallic screech filled the air as he