'But you can't even see very well!' stammered Axel, lending his voice in support of Capper Whetstone.
'I can see well enough when they're right in front of me!' retorted the thane. 'Incidentally, how close are they?'
Axel growled in exasperation, but gave up on trying to get Baker to climb to safety. 'Twoscore feet, closing fast.'
The last of the Hylar scooted up to the trapdoor as the two old dwarves stood with drawn blades beside Capper Whetstone and a few volunteers from the royal bodyguard as they waited for the onslaught. The dark shapes shifted, and Baker found himself looking at sharply focused images from his own nightmares. Indeed, one of the shades resembled his former wife, wickedly grinning at him, taunting and jeering.
But this image was tightly focused, unblurred, and in a flash of insight Baker understood that without his glasses he couldn't really see such a thing. It was entirely in his mind! He laughed out loud as he stabbed at the nightmare that no longer had the power to frighten him. He felt the silver blade cut through the shadows, and he heard a howling maelstrom somewhere in the distance.
And the shadow went away. Another stretched forward a tendril of darkness, and that too vanished after a quick jab of his sword. Again and again he stabbed with the blade, shouted curses at the unfeeling shadows, dispatched them one after another. He heard cheers and knew that the other Hylar had escaped, that his leadership had saved them.
Another rumble shook the mountain, jarring the lift so harshly that Baker thought for a moment perhaps the chain had broken and they were falling. Instead, the latest tremor merely released a shower of pebbles and boulders. Then a bigger quake shook the mountain, and even to the thane's blurred vision the crack in the shaft wall grew wider. With a splitting, grinding noise, the lower part of the transport shaft fell away, leaving the lift cage dangling freely in the air. Massive slabs of rock collapsed, breaking away from the bulk of the Life-Tree to tumble below onto the remains of the waterfront.
Baker looked up, seeing the lowest rungs of the ladder still secured to the side of the upper transport shaft.
'This cage isn't going anywhere,' said the young engineer who had stayed behind. 'That last rockfall pinched it in here like cement.'
'Come, my thane,' urged Capper Whetstone. 'It's time for us to get out of here.'
And Baker Whitegranite climbed with strength, knowing that the hopes of the Hylar climbed with him.
Chapter Twenty-three
Chaos Falling
For long minutes Tarn lay on the smooth rock of the shore, struggling to draw air through the raw, constricted passage of his throat. He knew he was in dangerous surroundings. But even if a company of dark dwarves had come along screaming for his blood, the half-breed would have been unable to so much as look for a hiding place. The lingering horror of his immersion in water-the nearness of death-had drained him. The fight to survive had utterly exhausted him. And even when he found the strength to lift his head, there was nothing within his range of sight to encourage him.
Around him the gully dwarves chattered and explored, though there was an uncharacteristic hush to their voices. Regal sniffed something, then called some of his comrades to help him move a large boulder. The industrious Aghar toppled the large rock to the side, but after several minutes of rooting around in the muddy crater they trudged glumly back to Tarn.
'Nuthin!' groused one.
'No food, not a bite,' said another.
'No beer,' Regal added mournfully.
Finally able to sit up and look around, Tarn tried to get a fix on their surroundings. He was startled to realize he was totally lost. Though he knew the Hybardin waterfront like he knew the hilt of his sword, he was now unable to recognize a single landmark. A pile of broken rock rose like a mountain before him, and to either side he saw a splintered wreckage of slabs, beams, fabric, and other debris. Looking straight up, he could see the bottom of the great stalactite that was the Life-Tree suspended overhead, though whether they could reach it or not was another question entirely. And even so, could they somehow work their way into higher regions of the city? It was inconceivable that the lift still functioned.
From his low vantage he was able to see enough to make several assumptions with a fair level of confidence. It seemed that all of Level One and Level Two of Hybardin had been buried beneath rockfalls. Obviously the Chaos horde had struck far more savagely here than in Daerforge. It was impossible to imagine that anyone could have lived through such a horrific devastation. Belicia Felixia Slateshoulders had been here, and Tarn faced the reality that she must certainly be dead.
Despair dragged his head down onto his arms. For a while he lay like a corpse, unthinking, uncaring, aware only of the black wave of hopelessness that swept over him. Very gradually he became conscious of an insistent tugging, something that had him by the elbow and was trying to lift him from the ground.
'Leave me alone!' he growled.
'Come on! Look up!' replied a voice that he remembered as Regal's. 'We try to get to Hybardin-not stop now!'
Tarn whirled on the Aghar, his face twisted into a snarl.
'What Hybardin?' he demanded. 'Look around, you imbecile! Can't you see that my city doesn't even exist anymore? Now do what I told you: leave me alone!'
'No!' insisted Regal, with surprising stubbornness. 'You look around! City's up there!' The gully dwarf pointed a blunt finger at the dangling massif overhead. 'Let's go see, okay? Kinda boring down here.'
'Not boring no more,' noted another little Aghar, who was squatting just above. The fellow pointed to the side. 'Here come some guys.'
Fighting through his despair, Tarn wriggled around to follow the direction of the second gully dwarf's stare. His heart pounded at the sight of several dozen Daergar poking through the rubble along the shore of the lake. They were a long way away, but coming in his direction.
Instantly the half-breed's malaise vanished as he realized that the gully dwarves, who had risked so much to get him here, would be easy prey for the villainous dark dwarves. Cursing his selfish melancholy, he looked around for some avenue of escape. Immediately he saw a large, flat slab of rock tilted up against the steep slope of the rubble.
'Get behind that!' Tarn whispered urgently. 'Stay low and quiet!'
He realized that his latter commands were superfluous as the Aghar once again demonstrated their natural instincts for stealth. The score or so of his shipmates were already out of sight as Tarn crawled behind them into the low shelter, fairly certain that the Daergar patrol had not spotted them.
'Now climb!' he urged. 'Get as high as you can!'
The makeshift wall served as good cover, and Tarn found that he could stand upright behind it and crawl upward towards the top of a rubble-strewn slope. For minutes there was no sound except for the gasping and panting of scrambling dwarves. The incline was very steep, and in many places Tarn and the Aghar had to pull themselves up with their hands and scramble on their knees to negotiate the grade. As they climbed still higher, Tarn was able to see great companies of dark dwarves marching up a neighboring mound of stone. Groups of shadowy creatures visible just beyond. It did not seem to the half-breed as though the Chaos creatures were menacing the Daergar and Theiwar formations. Indeed, he saw with despair that the two forces were actually advancing in concert.
'Look, there!' hissed Regal.
Tarn witnessed the black daemon straddling its fiery mount as the dragon spread its wings and flared into the air. The half-breed watched in fascination as the monster flew directly into the side of the overhanging rock, boring a hole right into the bedrock.
'Let's keep going,' Tarn said. 'And try to stay out of sight!'
