The Road to Death

50

“Give them your swords,” Kandler said.

“What?” Sallah brandished her blazing blade before her. “This is a sacred symbol of my office. I cannot give it away lightly.”

“Forget it, boss,” Burch said, waving his crossbow around and around at the three groups of dwarves that surrounded them. “Let’s just kill them all and be on our way.”

Kandler lowered his own blade. “These people aren’t our enemies,” he said. “They’re just trying to protect their home.”

The justicar stabbed the tip of his blade into a small patch of dirt in front of him. “Besides, who knows what’s down in those caves?”

Burch snorted. “They do.”

“Right,” Kandler said, motioning again for the others to put down their weapons, and they did. “We could use their help.”

The dwarf who’d called upon them to surrender rushed up to them to kick their weapons away. “A wise decision,” he said, keeping his crossbow leveled at them. Kandler could see the runes carved along the bolt’s length, and he wondered if maybe he’d made a mistake. “Much wiser than your friends from before.”

“Those aren’t our friends,” Kandler said. “We’re here to rescue my daughter, a young elf who was with them.”

The dwarf sized up Kandler. “Your ears are awfully round for an elf.”

“She’s my stepdaughter.”

“Ah,” said the dwarf. He glanced nervously at the other dwarves around him. “About your bony friends there—”

“They’re not our friends,” Kandler said.

“Didn’t you see us on that airship?” Burch said. “Some lookouts.”

Sallah pointed at the embroidery on the front of her tabard. “I am a Knight of the Silver Flame,” she said. “The only truck I have with such creatures is their destruction.”

The dwarf frowned for a moment and bowed his head. “Those skeletons killed a number of my crew here, good dwarves.” He raised his eyes. “If your quarrel is with them, then we share a foe, and we are short of allies. Pick up your weapons, and join the dwarves of Clan Drakyager if you will.”

Sallah and Burch gathered their sword and crossbow. Kandler pulled his blade from where he’d stuck it in the ground. Then he stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

“Duro Darumnakt,” the dwarf said with a tentative grin as his many fellows gathered around behind him. They were a dour sort but happy to let their leader talk with the strangers for them. “Do you know why those skeletons came here? Most of them and their half-dragon leader entered the caves through that hole not long ago.”

Kandler shook his head. “They are looking for the dragon-elf’s master. It seems he lives here.” A few of the dwarves gasped. Others muttered a quick prayer to the Sovereign Host.

“Nithkorrh,” Duro said, his face as white as a ghost. “You’re looking for the dragon Nithkorrh.”

Kandler grimaced. “That could be.”

“Well,” Duro said, “I knew this day would come. I’d just hoped it wouldn’t be in my lifetime.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “This dragon of which you speak is a black-hearted beast my people have kept trapped in its lair for centuries. This is the first visitor it’s ever gotten.”

“That you know of,” Burch said, checking the action on his crossbow. Kandler noticed the shifter eyeing the bolt in Duro’s weapon too.

“Are you impugning our ability to fulfill our duties?”

Kandler stepped between Burch and the dwarf. “We don’t have time for this. Can you take us to the dragon’s lair?”

Duro started to nod but then thought better of it. “That may not be wise.”

“Forget them, boss,” Burch said. “We don’t need them. I can follow Esprë’s trail myself.”

“We don’t know what we’ll find in there though,” Sallah said. “It would seem prudent to engage a native guide.”

Kandler gazed down at the dwarf. “If Ibrido has entered your caves already with a contingent of skeletons, I think we’re the least of your troubles. Can you take us to the dragon’s lair?”

Duro narrowed his eyes at Kandler for a moment, then nodded. “If you can’t take foolish chances in desperate times, when can you?”

Kandler nodded his agreement then followed Duro into the mountain, with Burch and Sallah hot in his wake. A dozen well-armed dwarves followed after them.

They made good time through the mountain. As they jogged down various narrow and twisting passages and across expansive chambers, Kandler realized that they could easily have gotten lost on their own. Despite Burch’s legendary tracking skills, there were so many different ways to go that even a map would have been only a small help.

After a long while, they emerged into a massive chamber supported by tall, thick pillars that seemed to be in the business of holding up the night sky. As Kandler gazed up toward where he hoped a ceiling would be, he did notice a faint bit of light filtering down from above.

“We are in the Great Hall of Clan Drakyager,” Duro said. “Where you look, great louvered windows once hung, bringing sunlight into the most massive chamber under the mountain.

“We’re not far from the surface here then?” Kandler asked. “It seemed like we were heading down the entire time.”

“That matters not,” said Duro. “The mountain above follows its own mind. An avalanche covered those windows many years ago. Sadly, we have not had the resources or the need to clear them again. If we lived in this part of the caves again, that would be one thing, but the clan makes its home under peaks to the north of here, closer to the seat of the Iron Council.”

“Where to from here?” Sallah asked.

“We cross the Great Hall, then we find passages to lead us into the mountain’s very bowels. Once there, we’ll look for the Iron Door. It is a stunning piece of craftwork that legend says cannot fall while Clan Drakyager still stands. Beyond that lies the dragon, the monstrous beast itself.”

“What will we find when we get there?”

“Only the gods know that for sure. With luck, we’ll beat the half-breed and his friends there and be able to make a last defensive stand before the doors.”

Then, a rhythmic beating began echoing from all around. It sounded like a giant banging on a gong the size of a house’s roof, and it rattled the floor on which Kandler walked and shook dust from the stone pillars and the unseen ceiling.

“What in the name of the Flame is that?” Sallah said, the dust catching and sparking in the tongues of fire licking her raised sword.

“The dragon!” Duro said over the frightened words his friends murmured among each other in their own guttural tongue. “It’s trying to break free.”