stood the gaping mouth of the largest cave. Not for the first time he reflected on how often he was drawn to the spot.
Haskeer noticed too, and looked uncomfortable. 'This place gives me the creeps,' he confessed.
'I thought nothing spooked you.'
'Tell anybody and I'll tear your lungs out. But don't you feel it? Like a foul taste. Or the smell of carrion. And I don't mean the bilker.'
'Yet we still come here.'
' You do.'
'It reminds me of the Wolverine's last mission.'
'All it reminds me of is the way we arrived. I'd like to forget that.'
'Granted it was… troubling.' Stryke flashed the memory of their crossing, as he thought of it, and suppressed a shudder.
Haskeer's eyes were fixed on the cave's black maw. 'I know we came to this land through there. I don't understand how.'
'Nor me. Except for what Serapheim said about it being like doors. Not to billets, but worlds.'
'How can that be?'
'That's a question for his sort, for sorcerers.'
' Magic.' From Haskeer, it was an expression of contempt. He all but spat the word.
'It got us here. That's all the proof we need.' Stryke indicated their surroundings with a sweep of his hand. 'Unless all this is a dream. Or the realm of death.'
'You don't think…?'
'No.' He reached down and yanked a fistful of grass. Grinding it in his palm, he blew the chaff from his stained fingers. 'This is real enough, isn't it?'
'Well, I don't like not knowing. It makes me… uneasy.'
'How we came here is a mystery beyond an orc's grasp. Accept it.'
Haskeer seemed less than pleased with that. 'How do we know that thing's safe? What's to stop it happening again?'
'It'd need the stars to work. Like a key. It was the stars that did it, not this place.'
'You should have destroyed 'em.'
'I'm not sure we could. But they're kept safe, you know that.'
Haskeer grunted sceptically and continued staring at the cave mouth.
They sat like that for a while, neither speaking.
It was quiet, save for the rustling of small animals and the faint chirruping of insects. Flocks of birds flapped lazily overhead as they made for their nesting grounds. With the sun going down, the evening was growing cooler, though that didn't stop a cloud of flies gathering over the bilker.
Haskeer sat up. 'Stryke.'
'What?'
'Do you see…?' He pointed at the cave.
'I can't see anything.'
' Look.'
'It's just your fancy. There's noth — ' A movement caught Stryke's eye. He strained to make out what it was.
There were tiny pinpoints of light inside the cave. They swirled and flickered, and seemed to be getting brighter and more numerous.
The orcs got to their feet.
'Feel that?' Stryke said.
The ground was shaking.
'Earthquake?' Haskeer wondered.
The vibrations became stronger as a series of tremors rippled the earth, and their source was the cave. In its interior the specks of luminosity had coalesced into a glowing multicoloured haze that throbbed in unison.
Then there was an intense blast of light. A powerful gust of blistering wind roared from the cave. Stryke and Haskeer turned their faces from it.
The light died. The trembling ceased.
A shroud of silence descended. No birds sang. The insects quietened.
Something stirred inside the cave.
A figure emerged. It walked stiffly, moving their way.
'I told you, Stryke!' Haskeer bellowed.
They drew their blades.
The figure was near enough to reveal itself. They saw what it was, and the recognition hit them like a kick in the teeth.
The creature was quite young, insofar as it was possible to tell with that particular race. Its hair was a shock of red, and its features were flecked with disgusting auburn spots. It was dressed for genteel work, certainly not for combat. No weapon could be seen.
Cautiously, they edged forward, swords raised.
'Careful,' Haskeer cautioned, 'might be more.'
The figure came on. It didn't so much walk as lurch, and it gaped at them. With an effort, it raised an arm. But then it staggered, legs buckling, and fell. The ground was uneven, and it rolled a way before finally coming to rest.
Warily, Haskeer and Stryke approached.
Stryke lightly toed the body. Getting no response, he booted it a couple of times. It lay still. He crouched and felt for a pulse in the creature's neck. There was nothing.
Haskeer tore his attention away from the cave. He was agitated. 'What's this thing doing here?' he wanted to know. 'And what killed it?'
'Nothing obvious I can see,' Stryke reported, examining the corpse. 'Here, give me a hand.'
Haskeer knelt beside him and they turned the body over.
'There's your answer,' Stryke said.
The human had a knife in its back.
2
They ventured into the cave to make sure there were no more humans lying in wait.
There was a lingering smell of something like sulphur in the surprisingly large, high-roofed interior. But the gloom proved empty.
They went back to the body.
Stryke stooped, took hold of the dagger and tugged it from the corpse's back. He wiped the blood on the dead man's coat. The blade had a slight curve, and its silver hilt was engraved with symbols he didn't recognise. He thrust it into the ground.
They turned the body over again. The colour was draining from its face, making the ginger hair and freckles all the more striking.
The human wore an amulet on a thin chain about its neck. It bore symbols different from the ones on the dagger, but they were unfamiliar too. There was nothing in the pockets of the corpse's jacket or breeches. Nor did it have a weapon of any kind.
'Not exactly kitted out for a journey,' Haskeer remarked.
'And no stars.'
'So much for them being a key.'
'Wait.'
Stryke pulled off one of the man's boots. Holding it by the heel, he shook it, then tossed it aside. When he did
