Seeking The Oracle
The party halted in front of two great brazen doors. In the flickering torchlight the strange, fantastic figures carved on those doors and on the surrounding stonework appeared to caper and dance. There was a long silence, broken only by the hiss and crackle of the torches.
“It is still not too late, your highness,” the old priest said. In his long black robes he seemed almost a creature of this darkness far, far below the great temple overhead. In one bony hand he held a massive brass key. “You may still return safely to the world above.”
Ampanae looked at him with cold blue eyes. “I did not come so far merely to turn back like some frightened girl, Omazan,” she said. She stood proudly in her long white gown. If the priest seemed a creature of the darkness, she seeme
