Planescape: Torment by Ray & Valerie Vallese

Author:Ray & Valerie Vallese [Vallese, Ray and Valerie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-1527-9
Publisher: Fanversion Publishing
Published: 2020-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The green sky rushed along above him, striped by rivulets of pine, jade, olive, and chartreuse that streaked fluidly past so fast that Thane felt nauseous looking up at it. He considered that it might be grass or a forested land mass surging over his head—that he might be upside down. He tried to focus on the tightly interlaced roots of the ground ahead as he walked, taking care not to stray near the living walls that dwarfed him on either side. They were thick masses of black-barbed vine, loaded with spikes and thorns sharp enough to slice him to ribbons, if not for the protection of his ioun stone.

He watched the orange triangle circle his head, never touching anything. Yet it protected him well. A few minutes ago, he’d accidentally brushed a wall; the vines had tom the shoulder of his cloak and tunic as if they were tissue, but the skin beneath was unbroken.

Actually, that might have happened a few hours ago. Here in the maze, he had no sense of time’s passing. It couldn’t have been more than half a day since he first arrived, but there were no cues of day or night. The sickly green glow from above kept the maze in perpetual twilight, and his shadow stretched always behind him, no matter his direction. The lightstone around his neck barely glowed at all. Black shapes flapped and swam in the verdant sky stream—another reason not to look up.

He’d seen the flies swarm over Grace and Annah before they’d smothered his own face. Had Dak’kon and Morte succumbed as well? It stood to reason that they’d all been swept here somehow. He hoped he’d find the githzerai or the skull before he ran into Annah, who was now someone different: a wererat that had attacked him. And Grace—she’d sprouted wings. What was she? At first, Thane had believed that she’d orchestrated all of this, but upon reflection, he realized that Grace had seemed just as surprised by the flies.

Another path crossed his own, and he cut the number 93 into the dense carpet of roots before turning left. The vine walls never varied in height or appearance, and with all the turns and openings, he’d be lost in minutes if he didn’t mark his progress. Actually, he was already lost, but he’d be more lost. Numbering the intersections where he chose one path over another made it seem as if he were advancing, making progress toward something. And this way, he could retrace his steps if need be.

Thane thought he heard raspy breathing just beyond the barbed hedge to his right. The ropy vines grew too tightly together for him to see through the walls, and his sword wouldn’t cut the stuff. He wished he had a way to set the vines on fire. Was Ravel Puzzlewell lurking just out of sight, stalking him? Morte had said the hag had been banished to a maze, and Annah had railed that her name was on the lid of the black box.

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