"Can't you hear it?" the gargoyle asked, cupping a clawed hand to his pointed ear. "There must be an underground river down there somewhere."

Artek took a few steps forward and cocked his head, listening. He could barely hear a faint rushing noise, and new hope glimmered in his heart. All rivers, even those underground, must eventually run into the sea. This just might be the way out they were looking for.

"Good work, Guss," he said, giving the gargoyle an affectionate slap on the back. Immediately he regretted the action-the creature's spiky hide hurt. He clutched his stinging hand.

"Sorry about that," Guss said sheepishly.

"My fault." Artek winced. "I forgot that you're made out of stone." He shook his hand, and the pain dulled to a throb. "Now let's get moving."

Artek led the way down the tunnel, holding

Muragh in the crook of his arm. Beckla followed on his heels, her magelight floating above her head. Corin came next, and Guss brought up the rear, keeping watch on the darkness behind. Before long the water on the floor became a swift-flowing rivulet. They were heading down-always down, cursed Artek inwardly.

The sound of running water grew steadily louder, until it thrummed off the stone walls. Soon a damp spray drifted in the air, cool against their cheeks. They rounded a sharp bend in the tunnel, and the voice of the river became a thundering roar. A vast space opened before them. Beneath their feet stretched a steep, rock-strewn slope, and at the bottom raced a broad expanse of dark, frothy water. Beckla's blue magelight glinted off the onyx surface of the subterranean waterway.

"This must be the River Sargauth!" Muragh exclaimed, practically leaping from Artek's hands as his jaw opened and shut in excitement.

"The Sargauth?" Artek asked.

Muragh managed to approximate a nod. "It has to be. Only the Sargauth could be this large. According to all the stories I've heard, it winds its way through the middle levels of Undermountain until it joins up with Skullport, the pirate city hidden in the sea caves that border Waterdeep Harbor. Once it passes through Skullport, the Sargauth flows out into the harbor."

A thrill raced through Artek's mind. If the skull was right, then the river could be their means of escape. "How do you know all this, Muragh?" he demanded.

"Is it the ore in you that makes you so positively dense?" the skull asked testily. "Remember, I spent a good deal of time floating in Waterdeep Harbor before the mermen found me. I know every underwater rock and cave in that big puddle."

"And I'm sure you'd tell us about every one if we give you half a chance," Artek said with a snort. Before Muragh could reply, he gripped the skull's mandible, holding it tightly shut. Ignoring Muragh's muffled grunts, he gazed at the dark river. Here was a road to freedom. All they had to do was figure out how to travel it. "We need to find a way to float on the river, to let it carry us out of this maze," he murmured, more to himself than the others.

Apparently Corin heard his words. "Er, how about if we use that?" the nobleman asked tentatively. As one, the others followed Corin's pointing hand. Beckla quickly raised her magelight higher. Artek let out an oath.

It was a ship.

The ship rested by the shore of the river nearest to them, caught on a jagged spur of rock that jutted up from the dark waters of the Sargauth. It was a two-masted schooner, small, sleek, and highly maneuverable. Such crafts were a common and much-feared sight along the Sword Coast, for they were favored by pirates for their speed and agility. By the look of it, this ship had been trapped here for many years. The remnants of the sails hung listlessly from the masts in gray shreds like cobwebs. Most of the rigging had rotted and snapped, and blotches of black mold covered the hull like some leprous disease. The ship listed precariously to the starboard side, pressed against the rocks by the swift-moving current of the river. However, there was no breach visible in the hull. If the ship could be freed from the rocks, it might yet be seaworthy.

Artek scrambled down the slick slope to the bank of the river, and the others followed quickly behind. Upon close examination he saw that the rocks had indeed punched a hole in the hull, near the prow of the ship. However, the gap was small and, at present, above the surface of the river. If its makers had known their craft, the ship would still be dry inside. True, once it was righted, the hole would be below the surface. Yet the ship likely could sail some distance before it took on enough water to founder, maybe even far enough to reach the sea. Dim but still visible, the ship's name was painted across the prow: The Black Dart.

Artek smacked a fist against his palm. This is it. This is our way out, I'm sure of it. All we have to do is find a way to free the ship."

Beckla crossed her arms, surveying the vessel. "Easier said than done. I imagine her crew tried their best to free her from the rocks, and they couldn't manage it. A ship like this would have a score or two of sailors aboard. I don't know how the four of us could succeed where forty failed before."

"You mean the five of us!" Muragh corrected indignantly.

Artek squatted down, studying the ship. The wizard was right, of course. No doubt The Black Dart's crew had indeed tried to free her. An image drifted to mind of the pirate schooner laden with booty, its crew rough and merry, as it evaded the tall ships of Waterdeep's Harbor Watch. It sailed into a cave, meaning to hide in the underground waterways until the coast was clear. When the captain finally ordered them to sail back down the Sargauth, they found they were caught on the dark rocks, which their lookout had missed in the gloom. Despite their struggles, the ship remained caught between river and rock, like a piece of metal between hammer and anvil.

Artek wondered what had become of the crew. Had they jumped ship, hoping the chill waters of the Sargauth would carry them back to lighted lands? Or had they remained here in the dark, dying slowly of starvation and madness? He shivered, forcing the latter thought from his mind. No crew of sailors would choose to remain here, he told himself. Not unless they were ordered to by their captain. And even then they would probably mutiny. But it hardly mattered-Artek saw no point in exploring the ship. They probably would never be able to free it.

He stood up with a sigh. "Maybe there's no use in wasting our time here," he said glumly.

"Actually, I might be able to arrange something," Guss said. The others stared at the gargoyle in surprise. "I have a way with stone," the monster explained with a toothy grin. "I was conjured from it, after all." He pointed to the boulders that trapped the ship. "Ill go have a talk with those rocks over there. The rest of you get ready, just in case it works." The others exchanged curious looks as Guss wandered over toward the rocks.

The aft section of The Black Dart lay only a few feet from the shore, and its deck was tilted in their direction. With a running leap, Artek launched himself into the air and managed to grab the edge of the deck. With a grunt, he flexed his arms, heaving himself up and onto the deck. He searched until he found a bit of rope that seemed only slightly rotted. Looping it around the aft mast, he threw the end over the side to haul Beckla and Corin up. Moments later, the two stood beside him on the slanted deck, Muragh clutched tight in Corin's white-knuckled hands. Neither nobleman nor skull had appreciated being hauled up like so much cargo.

"Hold on, Guss!" Artek called out above the roar of the river. "We should look around first before we try anything!"

The gargoyle, squatting on the jagged spur of rock that trapped The Black Dart, waved up at the others on the deck. Figuring that Guss had heard and understood, they turned to look for an entrance into the ship's hold;