“Do it, Gundabyr! You must! I’ve got us a way out of here, a way to get home!”
The dwarf nodded, rubbing his hands along the tops of his trousers. He held out his right hand, flexing his stubby fingers as they neared the floating ring. An inch away, he stopped, pulling his hand back.
“I can’t, lady! I’m too clumsy, I tell you! You’ll die if I try it.”
“We’ll both die if you don’t.”
Gundabyr sat back on his haunches to think. There had to be a way to move the ring without letting it touch the spear shaft. If only he had a feather, he could slip it between the floating ring and the spear. But he had no feather, no tools, nothing. He sighed.
His gust of breath made the floating ring quiver. Was that it?
He explained his idea to Vixa. Sweating profusely, the princess agreed he should try it. Gundabyr moved around behind her. Leaning forward over her shoulder, he blew against the ring. It quivered, but didn’t move. He blew harder. Coryphene’s ring skittered two inches toward the spear butt.
“Hurrah!” Vixa rejoiced. “You can do it!”
“It’s going to take a lot of wind.”
During Gundabyr’s many pauses for breath, Vixa told him about her explorations as a dolphin, the chilkit tunnel she’d found, and the discovery she’d made there. By which time, Gundabyr had moved the ring only half the distance necessary.
“So he’s alive.” The dwarf panted with exertion, his cheeks red. “Glad to hear it. Anything that thwarts Coryphene makes me happy.”
A few more minutes of huffing and puffing and the ring was only scant inches from the end of the spear shaft. Gundabyr took a short break and outlined what had been happening in the city since the battle. When he got to the part about finding their fellow prisoners dead and prepared for disposal at sea, Vixa blanched.
“And Armantaro?” she whispered. The dwarf nodded curtly, his eyes fixed on the ring. He started blowing again, faster and harder, looking down to avoid the tears glistening in Vixa’s eyes. “He was ill. Did he die of his cough or was it murder?”
“The others weren’t sick, lady, and they’re dead.”
“Coryphene gave his word! He promised he would free us!”
“He obviously changed his mind.”
Hatred welled up inside Vixa. Armantaro was dead. Like Harmanutis, Vanthanoris, Captain Esquelamar, and for all she knew, everyone she’d left on
“Hold still, lady!” Gundabyr hissed. Vixa forced herself to relax, pushing away her grief. It would serve no purpose now. Almost inaudibly, she said, “I will kill them both.”
The icy coldness of her tone made Gundabyr stare at her. Her face, considered “humanlike” back in Qualinost because of her quarter-human ancestry, had worn thin under the hardships she’d endured. Poor food and privation had sharpened her features and bled most of the color from her skin. The dwarf could see the rage burning in her eyes.
“Princess, I’m about done,” he said. “Are you ready?”
“I am.”
He filled his cheeks, blew smartly. The ring flew off, ricocheting against the wall. No sooner had it left the shaft than the spear dropped harmlessly to the floor. Vixa was up in an instant, the weapon in her hands.
“Thank you, my friend! Let’s go.”
He restrained her with one hand. “Escape, Princess, yes? Revenge can’t be enjoyed when you’re dead.”
Before she could reply, they heard voices outside. Vixa sat back in the chair. Gundabyr scurried to the far corner and hid behind a stone column.
Coryphene entered, leaving a pair of guards in the corridor. “Hello, Princess,” he called out. “Still here, I see.” From his position he couldn’t tell that Vixa, rather than his spell, was holding the spear in place.
“When are you going to keep your word and release me?”
There was the slightest of pauses. “Soon,” he replied evenly. “Right now my warriors are looking for the dwarf Gundabyr. I thought he might have found his way in here.”
“No such fortune. Is Armantaro nearby? I’d like to speak to him.”
“That’s impossible. Her Divine Majesty has forbidden it.”
Vixa resisted a powerful urge to hurl the spear at him. She must remember that Gundabyr, too, would be endangered if the guards were to rush in.
“Where’s your honor, Coryphene? Don’t the Quoowahb believe in keeping their word?”
“You would be well advised not to provoke me. You’re alive now only-” He stopped abruptly.
“Yes? Go on, Coryphene. What truth were you about to let slip?”
He made a fist. “You’re alive because I have defied my divine queen! She has ordered your death, Vixa Ambrodel, but I have secreted you here instead!”
“How kind of you, but why?”
“Because the Protector of Urione
Vixa’s arm, holding the spear by its head, was beginning to ache. “So, what’s to become of me?”
“After we take Silvanost and Uriona is crowned queen of all the elven nations, I will set you free. Perhaps you would make a good viceroy, to rule in Qualinost in Her Divine Majesty’s name.”
Astonishment momentarily left the princess bereft of speech. Coryphene must be as crazy as his queen, if he thought she would become the tool of a conqueror. How little he knew her!
“I believe that, in time, you will come to accept Her Divinity’s power,” the Protector went on. “My queen will reward me in the future for not killing you now.”
Vixa heard Coryphene’s footfalls as he moved from the doorway, coming farther into the room. If he drew too near, he would see his spell had been thwarted. Sweat trickled down her forehead.
“My lord!” A soldier had appeared in the doorway. “The watch reports a disturbance at the House of Arms.”
“What kind of disturbance?”
“A dispute-a riot between the surviving drylanders and the sea brothers.”
Smothering an oath, Coryphene hurried from the room. Gundabyr emerged from his hiding place, and Vixa, with a relieved gasp, let the spear drop.
“Damn him!” she fumed, rubbing her aching wrist. “Did you hear that? I would make a good viceroy to rule in Qualinost, he said. What kind of weak-minded simpleton does he take me for?”
“Lady, we must go,” insisted the dwarf.
Once outside under the colonnade, Vixa whispered, “We must hurry to the temple of Zura. Naxos needs water from the fountain there to heal his wound.”
They had to take the central ramp, at least part of the way. Vixa dropped down on her stomach and started crawling into the plaza. The war supplies hid them both from the remaining guards until they reached the entrance to the spiral ramp. Gundabyr rolled into the opening. Vixa ducked after him. The ramp was clear.
Noises drifted up to them from the lower levels. Creeping down the ramp, Vixa and Gundabyr speculated on what might be happening below.
“A riot? That doesn’t make sense,” Gundabyr mused. “The only drylanders left in the House of Arms are too sick and weak even to walk, much less riot.”
“Well, in any event, the timing was perfect.” Perhaps a little too perfect, Vixa added silently.
The thick scent of incense told them they were nearing the temple level. Farther on, and they could see robed priests and priestesses coming and going. It seemed impossible for Vixa and the dwarf to slip by unseen. Gundabyr, a practical soul, reached out from their hidden vantage point and grabbed an unsuspecting Dargonesti acolyte. A good solid blow to the back of his head, and the acolyte was in dreamland. Now they had a robe to wear.
“You’re too short to pass for a Dargonesti,” Vixa reminded him.
“Well, so are you, lady.”
Vixa chewed her lip for a moment, then a smile broke out on her face. She leaned over and whispered in Gundabyr’s ear. Soon he was grinning, too.
Moments later, a tall acolyte draped in a hooded gray robe joined the lines of worshipers in the courtyard
