16
Spiros took the lead while Xander shoved the rest of us behind him. The subjects grasped the wood paneling on the walls and drew themselves from their paintings. Those drawn without legs were cropped at the artist’s discretion while the satyrs, flutes a-playing, leapt out fully formed. They raced toward us and unsheathed the pointed wooden stakes at their waists.
Xander fended them off as we raced into the corridor. He shoved them back and slammed the door behind him. Many hands pounded on the door and the handle rattled like a snake.
“We must barricade ourselves in our room!” Darda insisted.
Tillit snorted. “Did you see how many paintings were in that one?”
“Did anyone notice a room without paintings?” Spiros asked us.
“The dining hall,” Tillit suggested.
Xander shook his
