'Jazrac! Gods, I forgot about him completely. He hasn't left yet!' The Harper's face brightened, and she turned to Sumalo and Jouka with renewed hope. 'Gather the women and children in one of these rooms on the eastern side. Make sure they're well away from the fighting and send someone to have the wizard join them. He can get us out.' `The wizard is useless.' Jouka spat contemptuously. 'He's our only chance.'
A loud thud sounded against the doors, and everyone glanced at them nervously. 'Gather everyone at the granary,' Jouka said stiffly as he relented reluctantly. When the inner door shattered under two ringing blasts from Vreesar, the gnolls charged into an empty chamber. Confused, the warriors ripped through the meager furnishings of the hall, howling in triumph. They were certain of victory. The gnolls broke into hunting packs and scattered down the empty halls.
'Now!' Vil cried out as the marauders cleared the first corner. The passage echoed with the sharp twang of crossbows fired by the small cadre of Vani accompanying him A loud shriek proved at least one quarrel had struck home, but Vil didn't wait to see. 'To the next position-go!' he bellowed. The gnomes sprang from their hiding places and ran down the hall, past where Martine lurked with another small band of warriors.
After several minutes, the gnolls reappeared cautiously, peering around the corner. 'Hold your fire,' the Harper hissed. The Vani next to her trembled slightly. The head disappeared, and then a single gnoll slowly stepped forward, nervous and wary. Martine waited as he advanced two cautious steps forward. 'Fi she shouted. The gnoll shrieked and slumped to the floor. 'Back, everyone!' she barked as the gnomes pulled out quickly. They had barely reached Vil's new position around the next corner when a handful of magical ice hurtled down the passage and burst in a small explosion right where they had been.
'Be careful, Vil. Vreesar's up there somewhere,' Martine said softly.
'You too, Martine,' he said with unmistakable concern. 'You sure you don't need help?'
'Krote's only one gnoll. You'll need every available gnome. Don't worry about me.'
'I'm-I'm only afraid I'll never see you again,' the big man said awkwardly.
'They're coming, Master Vilheim!' the Vani lookout cried.
'Go, Martine-and let the blessed gods go with you.' The former paladin turned his back to her as if he welcomed the interruption, so Martine left him to his command, feeling touched by the man's sudden concern.
Martine limped through the dim halls, wary because of the chance the gnolls might break through the defenders. The distant noise of battle mingled with fainter sounds-a baby crying, a confused murmur of voices. The normally warm warren was cold, the warmth lost to the night air through shattered doors.
At last she reached Krote's pen, and she gave small thanks to Tymora. She had secretly feared that one of the Vani-Jouka, perhaps-might have taken it upon himself to rid the valley of one more gnoll, but that apparently had not happened.
'Word-Maker!' she called into the pen. 'Come out here.'
The mound of matted straw at the back stirred, and a pair of feral eyes glinted in the dim light. 'My brothers come. Is true, human?'
The woman undid the lock and quickly stepped back, her sward held ready. The lanky gnoll eased slowly from the pen, stiffly unworking his cramped joints, even though the ceiling was too low for the seven-foot tall shaman to stand straight.
Martine motioned him to start down the passage. 'I don't want to kill you, Ward-Maker, but I will if 1 you force me to. Do I have your word you won't attack?' The question was almost a demand.
Krote stopped his canine stretching to look at the Harper and then ask with silken cynicism, 'Why should I believe your words? You said you would free me.'
'I will.' -Why?
Martine tossed back her stringy, short hair. 'Because you're the Word-Maker and you believe in your wordsdon't you?'
Krote stood silent, ears twitching to the echoes that rolled down the corridor. 'I give you my word, human. I will not attack. My people will kill me anyway.'
'Good enough. Now go-quickly.'
They hurried down the corridor, gradually increasing their speed to an easy lope. They moved through the dark passages toward the nervous din of the Vani. The hallways were deserted, not surprising considering the battle that raged through the underground halls, but it felt strange nonetheless.
Finally they reached the granary Jouka had chosen The last of the refugees were just arriving. The way quickly became jammed with cloaked older Vani women, young wives cradling their newborns in swaddling, and children clinging to their mothers' skirts. The council elders, too old to fight but carrying canes and swords, were directing the last preparations for escape, urging families to hurry as they finished bundling packs of food and blankets: Hostile eyes followed the gnoll, an enemy in their midst.
'Martine!' a deep bass rumbled from the hallway. It was Vii, with the last of the rear guard, sprinting down the hall. The gnomes of his command slipped into the room and immediately struggled to slip into the few remaining supply packs already prepared, all the while keeping an eye on the corridor.
'Now what?' Vil asked.
'We hope Jazrac can cast the spells needed to get us out of here.'
'You don't know?' Vil's face suddenly creased with concern. 'I thought you had this planned.'
'Almost. We just need a little luck.' With that, the Harper pushed her way through the crowd, peering over their heads for Jazrac's tall form. At last she found him, looking somewhat confused.
Martine was shocked to see the normally resplendent wizard, a man who valued immaculate grooming as much as his spells, looking so haggard. His lean face sagged; his eyes made hollow depressions underscored by gray bags. Even the carefully groomed goatee that Jazrac could almost use like another finger jutted soullessly downward.
'Jazrac, over here!' She raised her hand high above the milling crowd. The wizard stumbled over to where she stood near the outside wall. He'd clearly slept no more than she had, though he lacked the energy the surge of battle had renewed in her.
'What are we doing here? Shouldn't we be doing something?' the wizard asked in confusion.
'We are. I have an important question to ask you. When you sneaked back into our room after the raid, you used a spell, right?'
Pain crossed the wizard's face. 'Yes… a passwall spell.' 'Can you cast it right here and now?' The Harper pointed toward the nearby outside wall.
'As a matter of fact, I have memorized it again. But why-'
'Just do it! We don't have time to talk,' Martine blurted with relief. 'Just open a passage to the outside and get these people out of here!' _
The wizard's worn expression brightened slightly. 'I am, as you have reminded me, a senior Harper.'
'Jazrac, you don't have to playact for me.'
'Perhaps I can atone, if only in part, for past sins… Please stand back, everyone.'
As Martine helped to clear a space around the wizard, Jazrac straightened his clothing. Then, his hands stroking the wall, the wizard uttered a series of garbled phrases. As he spoke, the wooden wall seemed to evaporate like water Then the dirt, and finally a layer of snow, all faded into nothing. A hallway, broad by gnome standards, had been cat straight through the hillside. The howl of wind and a blast of cold air proved it was not an illusion.
'It won't stay open for long,' the wizard said urgently. 'Jouka! Vil!' Martine shouted. 'Guide everyone to the cabin.'
With a calmness bred by fear, the gnomes formed into lines and hurriedly filed through the magical passage toward the storm that raged outside.
Sixteen
The granary was empty except for Martine, Jazrac, and a handful of Vani who had volunteered to cover the retreat. They'd already barred the door with barrels of supplies and bags of flour. Martine knew the barrier couldn't hold up to Vreesar's icy blasts, but she had no doubt it would slow down the Burnt Fur. At their backs, snow blew
