The path sloped down at an even and gentle pace, and the dwarf was pleased that there were not nearly as many pools of magma here as there had been in the preceding chambers. The air even became marginally clearer the farther he went, and Adnama wondered if there might be some sort of vent or fissure that connected the depths ahead of him with the outside air above. He suspected it might be possible-even necessary if other, less inhuman creatures frequented these catacombs.

He could see that the walls were smoother here. This stone had been intentionally worked. A slow smile spread across his face. Ahead about fifty feet, the dwarf could make out the faint glimmering of light-not the chaotic shimmer of molten earth, but the familiar flicker of torchlight. He nearly broke into a run.

"By Deep Duerra," he whispered, "I've found them. I've found them."

At the bend in the tunnel, Adnama turned to the right with a look of absolute certainty fixed on his face. But as he rounded the corner, he slowed to a trot and covered only a few more feet before he stopped entirely, like a clockwork toy that had wound down its spring.

"It can't be," he choked out. "It's not possible…" his voice trailed away.

What little color Adnama possessed drained away immediately. A figure separated itself from the side of the catacomb, and the duergar recognized the bloody scrap in the thing's claws-the face rag he had abandoned earlier. The shadow held the cloth up to its face and drew in one long, almost loving breath as though the cotton had been scented by the finest of perfumes. Then it slowly slid the rag down over its mouth, all the while licking at it hungrily. Adnama turned and tried to flee, only to realize with a dawning dread that the shadowy masses surrounded him, and he was cut off from any avenue of escape. He turned in a helpless circle.

They were everywhere.

His mind could not wrap itself around what his vision had revealed to him, and it started to shut down. The dwarf could not have moved at that moment even if the ground itself had tried to shake him loose. Black spots crowded across his line of sight. He was vaguely aware that his knees were buckling out from under him, but he was p amp;werless to stop his fall. He hit the ground with a dull thud. As the last of his consciousness faded, Adnama could see the black shadows peel themselves from the darkness and start to swarm him. For the first and only time in his life, Adnama fainted from pure terror.

The rumblings of the ground rose and fell in waves. However, it was not loud enough to disguise the wet, slurping sounds drifting up from one of the many channels in the catacombs. Nor did the noise last long enough to cover the screams or the angry growls.

As it turned out, there was not enough gray meat to go around.

Uskevren controlled her breathing. Only the lightest, frosty wisps escaped her nostrils. She knew it would take sharp eyes for something to see her, but she knew any creature down in these caves with darkvision would be able to spot the heat of her breath like a beacon. So, she used the chunk of ice she was squatting behind as a shield of sorts and let it intercept her slight puffs. She waited, watched, and, as she quietly flexed and moved her gloved fingers, tried not to tmnk of the cold.

The acquaintances she loosely referred to as her peers would be hard pressed to recognize her here. The twenty-four year old woman had traded in her sumptuous, Sembian gowns and jewels for more practical wear. Tazi, as her family and most trusted friends called her, was well over thirteen hundred miles from her comfortable rooms in Stormweather Towers. The daughter of a noble family of Selgaunt, arguably one of the most powerful families in the governing body of that commerce-driven city, should have been out of place in this frozen tomb-but she wasn't.

She sported well-tailored woolen pants tucked into short leather boots with sturdy, gripping soles and a shirt with a high collar that masked her nose and mouth for additional warmth. Over her coarse shirt, Tazi had a heavy, leather vest. Matching bandoliers crisscrossed her chest, with various and sundry bits of climbing gear and tools strapped tight. A sack, coil of rope, and one of her Sembian guardblades all hung from her wide belt. The only concession she refused to make to the bitter cold was that she sported no cap over her jet-black hair, which she had tied back. It wasn't an issue of vanity, though. Years ago, Tazi had proven she cared little enough about that when she cut her then-waist-length wavy hair to a style a bit more boyish. Tazi, who enjoyed any and every opportunity when she could be contrary, had done it for two reasons. The first was to irk her mother, who was always aware of their family's station and need for proper appearance. The cut was more suited to the styles of Cormyr at the time, a very gauche look anywhere in the fashion-conscious Sembia, and that act set her mother's blood boiling. The second reason was a bit more practical.

As a young girl, Tazi began to pilfer items from the family coffers and the servants' pantries. She normally returned the goods, simply enjoying the challenge of the theft. As she matured, Tazi did not outgrow her love of thievery. In fact, she turned to her peers as a source of challenge and entertainment, each job a little grander and more daring. She embraced it as another life and disguised herself accordingly. With the short hair and appropriate thieving leathers, Tazi did a more than fair job of concealing her identity and even her sex when she explored the night. But she loved these "wildings," as she liked to call them. Each success made her feel more alive and more in control of her own destiny, a security Tazi valued above all else. Mostly ignored at home except by a special few, she longed to feel safe in who she was. Her wildings provided that and more.

Her thieving ways eventually caught the attention of two unique men. Tazi, who tormented and tossed aside every eligible bachelor her mother sent before her, found that she could not ignore either of them. One, a mage-in-training close to her age, actually shared her adventures of the corrupt life. He appeared to enjoy thumbing his nose at his destined station as much as Tazi did hers. However, when one of her wildings went horribly.awry, she discovered he had been a hired bodyguard on her father's payroll all along. Tazi was more devastated by that betrayal than by the fact that that same night she had to take her first life in an act of mercy. The sense of security that she had fought for in her own manner was horribly fractured.

She turned away from him and the other one, a family servant, no longer certain who to trust. The second man, several years her senior, had mentored and tutored the young Thazienne in the finer art of theft and had even given to her her first quality set of lock picks. But circumstances had taken Tazi from her home a year ago on a heartbreaking quest, and the situation had driven her closer to the mage while wedging her farther away from her mentor. It was only upon returning to her family estate that she discovered the man she always sensed was more than just a servant had given over his heart to her as well as his loyalty. But by then, a family tragedy changed everything for her. And here Tazi was.

She peered down from her frozen perch, and narrowed her sea-green eyes. The large vault in front of her glowed an icy blue. Tazi wasn't sure just where the light originated, whether it was from an external source or from within the icy blocks that formed the room itself. The chamber, larger than a cavern, was roughly three hundred feet across and at least half as high, with various tunnels that emptied into it. Between the tunnel openings was a section of frozen wall that ran in an unbroken line except for a few shelves that had obviously been hewn out of the ice. There was a series of waist-deep ruts that ran the length of the vault, and Tazi suspected ancient streams must have cut those ages ago. Stalactites sporadically hung from the ceiling, ranging in size from three to thirty feet in length and a few stalagmites jutted up from the vault floor. Tazi noted them carefully, as it would be easy to turn an ankle or worse around them.