Chapter Sixteen
“Pure gold does not fear the fire.”
Torrin raced to the battle, his mace in his hand, ploughing through the floating crystals that crowded the air like floating hail. He wanted to shout Baelar’s name, to let the dwarves know he was headed their way, but that would draw the duergar’s attention as well. In the hazy, crackling light, there was just a chance that they wouldn’t notice him, or would think him some shadow or trick of the light.
As he drew nearer, he could see more clearly through the spellfire-hazed air. Just ahead, four dwarves battled three spider-mounted duergar. The dwarves were being pressed hard. They’d been forced out of the tunnel and into the cavern, where crystals on the floor made the footing treacherous. The crystals didn’t slow the spiders at all. One scuttled out of the tunnel and up onto the ceiling, where its rider rained arrows down at the dwarves. Another raced lightly along the wall and jumped down several paces beyond the entrance, flanking the four dwarves. The third spider leaped out of the tunnel and, as one of the dwarves stumbled and lowered his axe, grabbed him in its jaws.
The dwarf screamed in agony as the jaws scissored shut. He suddenly went rigid, and his axe fell from his hand.
Baelar ran at that spider, brandishing his axe. He shouted and swung. The blade sliced off one of the spider’s legs. Frost exploded in a cloud as what remained of the leg froze solid then shattered, wrenching a chunk of the body off with it. The spider released its hold on the dwarf and crumpled. Baelar’s second blow cracked its head wide open.
The dwarf who’d been bitten fell in a stiff-limbed heap to the ground and didn’t rise. Baelar glanced at him, then pressed home his attack on the rider who’d just leaped off the spider’s back. Baelar’s next axe swing, however, passed through empty air as the duergar did a peculiar leap backwards, twisting as he jumped. The foe suddenly appeared behind Baelar. His axe descended in a deadly arc…
But in that moment, Torrin reached the battle. “ Thuldnoror! ” he cried, swinging his mace. Thunder boomed as the mace smashed into the side of the duergar’s head, shattering the duergar’s skull like weakened stone in an explosion of blood and brains.
Baelar stared at Torrin for a heartbeat, his eyes wide. He gave the briefest of nods and pointed at the rider who’d landed his spider behind them. “That one!” he ordered.
Torrin scrambled to the spot where one of the other dwarves-Captain Blackhammer-was fighting the duergar rider who’d flanked them. Blackhammer was trying to lop the legs off of the spider as Baelar had done. But before he could, the duergar rider hurled his lance. Blackhammer dove under the spider and rolled, emerging beyond its claw-tipped legs. The lance clattered off the crystal floor and skittered away.
“Stoneshield!” Baelar shouted from somewhere behind Torrin. “Close the tunnel!”
Torrin could see Captain Stoneshield out of the corner of his eye. The gray-bearded knight punched a fist into the air above his head. An arrow that had just been shot by the rider on the ceiling shattered into harmless splinters as Stoneshield’s magic struck it.
“But the others!” Stoneshield shouted back at Baelar. “They won’t-”
“Now!” Baelar shouted. “Do it!”
Torrin risked a second glance at the tunnel behind him. He spotted another dwarf inside it, sprinting for the cavern and shouting at them to wait. Three more duergar on spiders were close on his heels, about to overtake him. Baelar shouted again at Stoneshield to close the tunnel. Stoneshield continued to hesitate. At the last possible moment, just as the running dwarf burst into the cavern, Stoneshield slapped his hands together.
The walls slammed shut, crushing the three spiders. Colorless blood squirted out in a spray from between the rock. A clawed foot caught in the rock twitched, then was still.
Then an arrow plunged down into Stoneshield’s neck. He crumpled wordlessly, slain where he stood.
Baelar shouted and hurled his axe. The weapon whirled through the air, blades flashing, and buried itself in the chest of the rider above. The duergar rocked backward, then slipped from the saddle to dangle from a stirrup, his twisting corpse spurting blood that froze to red hail as it fell. The spider scuttled away across the ceiling.
Torrin reached the last rider just as that duergar’s spider crouched for a leap. Shouting “ Thuldnoror! ” once more, he slammed his mace into the spider’s twitching abdomen. Thunder boomed, rupturing the abdomen and sending blood, strands of guts, and fragments of bristle-haired chitlin everywhere. Spider blood splattered onto Torrin’s face, blinding him. He danced back, frantically wiping a hand across the lens of his goggles and spitting out the foul-tasting liquid. As he moved, he heard a scream above. He whipped up his mace to parry the expected blow, and heard the thud of a body landing beside him. Another wipe of his goggles cleared them. He saw it was the rider who’d fallen, pierced by his own lance. Captain Blackhammer stood a pace away, panting. He must have been the one who threw the lance. Baelar was cursing as he watched his prized axe, still buried in the body of the rider he’d thrown it at earlier, being carried away by the fleeing spider.
Torrin grinned through the muck that covered his face. They’d done it! Killed the three duergar riders and their mounts, and sent the one surviving spider scuttling away. The squad had paid a heavy price, having lost Captain Stoneshield and the knight who’d been killed by spider venom, but three of them remained: Baelar, Captain Blackhammer, and a third dwarf who stood next to the spot where the tunnel had been, holding an axe in his hand.
Torrin stared at the third dwarf, trying to place him. He must be a captain, yet Torrin didn’t recognize him. And he was holding his axe in an odd manner, straight out ahead of him like a wand. There was also something odd about the way the dwarf was smiling. He looked… smug?
Torrin squinted, and the axe in the dwarf’s hand seemed to waver. That was a wand he was holding.
Baelar glanced in the direction Torrin was staring. He startled. “That’s not one of-”
A beam of green light streaked from the wand and slammed into Blackhammer’s chest. Blackhammer grunted, glanced down, and saw that his body was bathed in a sickly green light. A hole opened in his chest, and in the space of a blink it widened until it had split him in two. As the axe he’d been holding clattered to the floor, the sickly green glow flashed up to Blackhammer’s head and down to his boots, consuming him as it soundlessly burned. A heartbeat later, there was only a dwarf-shaped puff of greasy green smoke where he’d been standing.
Captain Blackhammer was just… gone. Killed by the dwarf who’d just dropped the illusion that had been cloaking him. Not a dwarf, Torrin saw, but a duergar whose body was covered in tattooed runes.
Their enemy grinned and shifted his wand.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Torrin heard his heart thud in his ears. He saw Baelar dive for Black- hammer’s axe. He heard his heart thud a second time. Torrin started to shift his mace, and realized he’d never reach the duergar wizard in time. He heard his heart thud again. Saw green light blossom at the tip of the wand, which was tracking Baelar as he dove.
Torrin felt a strange detachment. He heard his own voice shouting “No!” and felt his body, as if in a dream, leap into motion. His right hand-the one crackling with spellfire-reached out to block the beam as it streaked toward Baelar.
Spellfire flared outward from Torrin’s palm, expanding into a glowing blue shield. The green light struck it and reflected, streaking back to the duergar holding the wand. The duergar’s mouth opened in surprise as he was consumed from within by the noiseless green fire, just as Blackhammer had been. A heartbeat later, only greasy green smoke remained. The smoke drifted away and was gone.
Baelar rose shakily to his feet, Blackhammer’s axe in hand, and gaped at Torrin. “How did you do that?” he said.
“I have no idea,” Torrin said in a faint voice. “It just… came to me.” He stared in wonder at his spellscarred hand. What else might it be capable of? If only Eralynn were alive, he might have asked her. The thought saddened
