The Survivors

CHAPTER 24

A glowing light up ahead indicated the main group. At last Bradok and his bloodied warriors had caught up. Twenty minutes later, they could see Jeni and Omer bringing up the rear.

Bradok could hear Chisul and Kellik coming behind him with Thurl. They were panting, but neither dwarf would admit their exhaustion. Behind them came Much, cradling his maimed arm and leaning on Tal. Corin was walking a ways behind and listening for any sign of Disir pursuit.

Corin had lost track of the Disir about an hour past, but he still strained to hear something, anything. The caves in that part of the world were made of sandstone, and sound didn’t carry as it did with granite or some other hard stone. Bradok had to keep urging Corin to keep up, for the Daergar kept dropping back to “take a better listen.”

By the time they reached Jeni and Omer, Corin was nowhere to be seen.

“He’ll be along,” Much said, noting Bradok’s distress. “He’s not stupid.”

“I can walk from here, gentlemen,” Thurl said as his bearers came up to where Bradok stood, breathing heavily.

Neither dwarf spoke; they simply set Thurl down gently and collapsed against the walls of the narrow passage.

“No rest,” Bradok said, handing Kellik his waterskin. “Take a drink; get your strength back. We have to get going again as soon as possible. You know we can’t stop.”

Both dwarves shot Bradok a dirty look, but they drank and pushed themselves to their feet, trudging after the limping form of Thurl.

“Corin’ll catch up,” Much said, pulling at Bradok’s cloak with his remaining good hand. “Come on, Rose needs you up front.”

Reluctantly Bradok nodded. He dropped the still-glowing Reorx’s torch mushroom on the path for Corin as he turned and hurried up through the midst of the marching dwarves as fast as his wounds would allow. He ached everywhere and felt as though he hadn’t slept in weeks.

The other survivors also looked exhausted. They were at the end of their strength and their hope. Bradok passed Perin and gave the human a nod. Though he, too, was bone weary, Perin seemed to be breathing better.

“Tal,” he said, tapping the doctor on the shoulder.

The doctor grunted something.

“Go walk with Perin,” Bradok said. “It looks like he’s breathing all right, but I wouldn’t mind your professional opinion.”

Tal grunted something else that might have been a curse aimed at Bradok, but he dropped back to walk with Perin.

A sudden draft of air roused Bradok’s attention. Up ahead, the tunnel opened into another cavern. Instead of halting to let a few men check it out, Rose had led the whole group right into the cavern.

“We’d better get up there,” Much said, noticing Bradok’s sudden concern.

They pushed their way through the group up to the front. The cavern was as tall as the one with the opening to the sky, but it was longer and wider by far. A sandy island of earth ran out from the entrance to their tunnel like a bubble, vanishing into the biggest chasm Bradok had ever seen. Reorx’s torch mushrooms by the hundreds grew along the left wall, illuminating a small ledge that ran to several tunnel openings and eventually to the spot of bare floor where Bradok and his friends stood.

Much whistled, walking close to the edge and looking down into inky blackness below.

A cool breeze blew up from the depths, bearing with it the smell of rock tinged with the stink of decay. The smell reminded Bradok, uncomfortably, of the Zhome. He pushed his way to where Rose stood and looked down at the compass in her hand.

“Which way?” he asked. “We can’t stop yet.”

Rose gazed toward the edge of the jutting ledge. Not believing her, Bradok looked into the compass and found the Seer pointing in the direction Rose was looking.

“That’s impossible,” he said. “There’s nowhere for us to-”

But there was somewhere. Nearly hidden in the darkness, a long, narrow pathway of rock jutted out from the edge, like the prow of some rocky ship. Bradok couldn’t see all the way to its end, but he knew it connected to the far side of the chasm, otherwise the compass wouldn’t be directing them there.

“There’s no way we can get Lyra across that narrow space,” Rose said nervously. “It couldn’t be more than a yard wide.”

“We’ll have two men carry her,” Bradok said with a confidence he did not feel. He took a step forward, but Rose caught his shirt.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

“Someone’s got to try going over to the other side and make sure it’s safe,” he said.

Rose shook her head. “Not you,” she said. “One way or another we’re going to have to convince everyone to cross. Nobody in their right mind is going to want to try if you slip over and die.”

“I’ll go,” Much said, taking Rose’s lantern. “I’m a much lighter fellow anyway,” he said, winking at Bradok and displaying his bandaged arm stump. “Especially now. Once I’m across, I’ll plant the lantern at the other end so you can see better.”

He took the lantern and started out, making his way carefully across the bridge of stone. Bradok watched with an equal measure of wonder at his friend’s bravery and fear for his fate. One misstep, and Much would plunge into the unknown depths. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Much turned around and waved the lantern over his head.

“He’s across,” Rose said in a gasp. Clearly she’d been holding her breath too.

“All right,” Bradok said. “You get everyone moving across while I make arrangements for Lyra.”

Rose raised her voice and gave instructions to the group while Bradok made his way to where Lyra and her new baby were situated. It suddenly occurred to Bradok that he didn’t know if Jade, Lyra’s daughter, had a brother or a sister.

“Thank you,” Lyra said when Bradok knelt beside her.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, blushing slightly.

She pulled open her cloak and revealed the sleeping baby, which was almost red in color with a mass of dark, curly hair on top of its head.

“You kept us alive,” Lyra said, beaming. “You made sure we were safe.” She turned back to the sleeping infant. “I’m going to call him Bradok.”

Bradok was stunned. So it was a boy and named after him. He didn’t know what to say, only that he didn’t deserve so much praise.

“Bradok!”

Kellik’s cry was heard above the crowd. Bradok stood and spotted the big smith on the far side of the group by the chasm, pointing at the left wall. With a bad feeling in his gut, Bradok saw that the empty tunnels that led to the narrow ledge were no longer empty. A dozen Disir had emerged there and were making their way gingerly along the ledge toward the spot where Kellik stood.

Bradok looked down at Lyra then at Xurces and Vulnar, who had been part of the group carrying her stretcher.

“Pick her up and get across that bridge,” he said. “Now!”

They looked momentarily skeptical until Bradok barked, “Now! Do your best!”

The two dwarves sprang into action, lifting the stretcher and pushing through the crowd toward the narrow walkway. Thurl, Perin, and Tal joined Bradok as he approached Kellik.

“That ledge is pretty narrow over there,” Kellik said, pointing to a spot nearby. “If we bunch up here, they’ll only be able to come at us one at a time. Our chances will improve.”

“Their reach is twice ours,” Thurl said, holding up his short sword. “We need longer weapons to keep them at bay and maybe knock them off the ledge.”

“There go our only poles,” Bradok said, pointing to where Xurces and Vulnar were carrying the stretcher. Even moving slowly, the two were halfway across the bridge with their burden.

“Use your hammer,” Tal said to Kellik. “Maybe you can break away a piece of the ledge, make it even more narrow for them.”

“That’s a good-”

“Bradok!”

Bradok turned to see Corin come racing out of the tunnel. “There you are!” he said with some relief.

“Here I am, but they’re right behind me,” he gasped.

Bradok swore. “Fall back,” he said. “We have to buy some time to give the others a chance to get across the bridge.”

Rose was hurrying the dwarves on the near side of the bridge, but there were still a dozen or so who hadn’t crossed. Just as Bradok and his men pulled back to protect them, Disir came pouring out of the tunnel.

Omer screamed and jumped away, but Jeni pulled him back toward the bridge. Rose shouted for everyone to speed up, and Bradok swore in frustration and pain as he jerked his sword from its scabbard.

At that moment, Bradok knew he would die. There were at least thirty Disir bearing down on them. His handful of tradesmen and merchants and one trained assassin stood beside him, as resolute and unmoving as any professional troop of soldiers.

But they weren’t soldiers.

They had no armor, no training, and only scanty weapons at hand. The Disir were relentless killing machines. It would be a slaughter.

The worst part, Bradok thought, is that there won’t be anyone left to make a song of it. In his heart, he knew the hardy band of survivors deserved a song.

The Disir seemed to hesitate a moment as their sightless eyes swept the group, the blue organs in their heads pulsating. One of them lashed out suddenly, slamming its blade-arm into the ground.

Bradok and the others raised their weapons, ready for the onrush. Instead, the first creature lifted its arm, so they could see that it bore a scrap of colorful cloth. With a sadness that quickly turned to a fire in his belly, Bradok recognized the rag doll Much had made for Teal. Omer had been carrying it ever since the girl’s death and must have unknowingly dropped it when he fled.

The sight of the monstrous Disir with the doll impaled on its ugly arm made Bradok angrier than he’d ever been. It seemed like more than a simple insult to Teal’s memory; it felt like a blow against everything that Bradok held as good and decent.

He could hear his heart pound in his chest as he tightened his grip on his sword. Whatever else happened next, he would do his best to chop that despicable Disir to bits.

“Teal!”

It surprised Bradok that the voice was not his own.

“No!” Omer yelled.

The young dwarf with the child’s mind ran by Bradok, knocking Thurl down in the process. He rushed up to the Disir, reaching in vain for the doll that the monster held just out of reach.

“Omer, stop!” Corin shouted, horrified.

The Disir jerked back its arm, dislodging the doll, then lashed forward, slicing it neatly in two. Bradok didn’t know if the thing knew it was just a doll and not a living child, but it clearly didn’t care.

Omer screamed, though he himself had not been struck. But it was as though he had gone berserk. A flash of orange light erupted in the space before the Disir, and Bradok had to cover his eyes. When it subsided, he saw Omer standing before the Disir, shaking with rage. His skin seemed translucent, and Bradok could see orange fire outlining the veins below his skin.

“You hurt Teal!” the man-child roared. His voice seemed to shake the very ground with its power, and several of the Disir shrieked in pain as the sound overwhelmed their senses.

With the casual gesture one might use to pick a mushroom off a cave wall, Omer reached out and tore the sword arm off the Disir that had so offended him. The creature squealed in pain and lashed out with its other arm. Bradok watched in horror as the tip of the blade punched through Omer’s shoulder and out his back.

Yet miraculously, Omer gave no sign that the wound bothered him. Swinging the arm like a scythe, he lopped off the creature’s head, sending it spinning over the edge and down into the chasm.

Time, which had seemed to move in slow motion before, leaped forward and everything seemed to happen at once. The Disir rushed forward, and Omer charged into them, taking them on all alone, yet cutting a swath of death through their ranks and roaring in anger as he killed. Black Disir blood splashed over Bradok, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the amazing scene. A splash of red blood was spattered on the wall by some Disir as they surrounded the boy, lashing at him with their razor-sharp arms. All the while, bits of chitin and ichor flew in all directions.

In a minute it was over. Broken and shattered Disir lay everywhere, their black blood seeping from their body armor and oozing in a dark river over the edge of the chasm. And somehow, there was Omer, alive, standing in the middle of the carnage, slumped and leaning on the Disir arm he’d used as a weapon. The orange fire behind his eyes faded, eventually back to his normal piercing blue. His body shuddered and he fell, finally succumbing to wounds that seemed to have flayed the skin right off his body.

“Omer!” Corin shouted, rushing forward. He lifted the young dwarf in his arms and carried him out of the mess of dead Disir, laying him reverently on the clean ground by the bridge.

“Tal!” Corin yelled, tears streaming down his face. “Do something.”

Bradok looked at Tal, but the hill dwarf only shook his head. What had just happened was beyond his ken. Omer’s wounds were too deep and too many. Bradok wondered that he still lived at all.

“I couldn’t save Teal,” Omer said, his childlike voice strangely gentle. “I sorry. Tell Teal, I sorry.”

“I will,” Corin said, holding Omer’s hand in a death grip. “You did good, kid,” he said, brushing away tears.

“I did?” Omer asked, seeming surprised. “I never did good be … before.”

Corin cupped the bruised and bloody face. “Sure you did,” he said. “You were always my good boy.”

Bradok knew that Corin had taken Omer in when they were in prison, but he hadn’t known just how much Corin thought of the boy as his own son.

“Corinthar,” Omer murmured, using Corin’s full name. “I scared.”

Corin lifted the boy and hugged him fiercely. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I have a special job just for you. Would you like that?”

Omer nodded weakly. “I a good boy,” he said, pride in his faint voice.

“You go on to Reorx’s Forge now,” Corin said, choking back sobs. “You find a good spot for the rest of us and guide us there. Save the good spot for when we come. Can you do that?”

Omer nodded. “Teal be there?” he asked.

“Yes,” Corin said.

“I tell her not to burn her feet on the sparks,” Omer said, a smile flitting across his face. “Love Teal,” he whispered. “Always love Teal.”

His head lolled back, and Bradok knew Omer was dead.

Corin kept holding him for a long time, his shoulders trembling as he sobbed. No one spoke; there wasn’t anything to say. Finally, Corin laid the young dwarf down gently on the stone floor. His hand trembled as he smoothed the unkempt blond hair down and wiped the blood from Omer’s face with the hem of his cloak.

“He didn’t deserve his fate,” Corin said in a quiet voice. “He was just a boy when that thrice-damned Theiwar took him and tortured him, made him a rat in one of his experiments. He had the strength of a dozen men-you have witnessed that with your own eyes-but the mind of a little boy. My people put him in prison for it.”

He smoothed the boy’s cheek. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“Yes, he did,” Bradok said, eliciting a gasp from Kellik and Tal. “This is a death worthy of any dwarf,” Bradok continued, his voice rising with pride. “None of us will ever be worthy of his sacrifice. Only someone as pure as Omer could have this death.”

Corin looked up at Bradok with a mixture of pain and pleasure on his face.

“Look at him,” Bradok said as all eyes turned to the fallen boy. “Teal was a mountain dwarf, but Omer didn’t care what clan she came from; he loved her for who she was. He loved her so much, he was willing to face creatures that terrified him-for her.”

Bradok stared around at the somber faces of his makeshift soldiers, taking the time to look each of them in the face.

“Someday, Reorx willing, we’ll escape this underground prison,” he vowed. “When that happens, we need to remember the lesson of Omer’s life and his death. If we take that lesson with us wherever we go, then we’ll survive, no matter where we end up.”

“Pick him up,” Thurl said sternly. “Such a hero should not lie in the dirt.”

Bradok took off his cloak and handed it to Kellik, who helped Corin wrap the body. When they were finished, Corin lifted the corpse of Omer and, without so much as a hesitating step, strode manfully across the bridge to where the others waited.

Bradok slipped his sword back in its scabbard and followed.