had the unpleasant look of a throat swallowing. Finally, it went still.
Whisper backed from the Croagh, ears flattened in a mixture of fear and hatred. The smell of the steamy jungle rose to assail the cat’s nostril’s, and he coughed and spit in distaste. He padded back upon the rock shelf.
Then a new sound brought him about with a low snarl. Other dark forms stood upon the Croagh above him — two more of the black things and behind them a robed figure, tall and hooded. Whisper’s saucer blue eyes blinked and narrowed. It was too late to hide. They had already seen him.
Soundlessly he turned to meet them, dark muzzle drawing back.
Jair Ohmsford and his companions raced through shadows and half–light deep within the fortress of Graymark now. They ran down hallways thick with the stench of must and sewage, corridors of rusted iron doors and crumbling stone, chambers that echoed with their footfalls, and stairways worn and broken. The castle of Graymark was a dying place, sick with age and disuse and rotten with decay. Nothing that lived here gave tolerance to life; those within found comfort only in death.
And it seeks my death, Jair thought as he ran, his wound throbbing painfully. It seeks to swallow me and make me a part of it.
Ahead, the dark form of Garet Jax darted swiftly on, a wraith that beckoned. The gloom about them lay empty, silent and waiting. The Gnomes had been left behind; the Mord Wraiths had not appeared. The Valeman fought back against the fear that coursed through him. Where were the Wraiths? Why hadn’t they seen them yet? They were here within the keep, hidden somewhere within its walls, the things that could destroy minds and bodies. They were here and they must surely come.
But where were they?
He stumbled, fell against Slanter, and almost went down. But the Gnome held him up, one stout arm coming quickly about him. «Watch where you step!» Slanter cried.
Jair gritted his teeth as pain flooded outward from his shoulder. «It hurts, Slanter. Every step…»
The Gnome’s blocky face turned from his own. «The pain tells you that you’re still alive, boy. Now run!»
Jair Ohmsford ran. They raced down a curving hall, and ahead there was the sound of other feet running and voices calling out. Gnomes had come another way and were searching for them.
«Weapons Master!» Slanter warned urgently, and Garet Jax skidded to a halt. The Gnome beckoned them into an alcove where a small door opened onto a narrow stairway that disappeared upward into blackness.
«We can slip above them this way,” Slanter panted, leaning wearily against the stone block walls. «But a moment for the boy, first.»
Quickly, he pulled the cork from his ale pouch and lifted the spout to the Valeman’s lips. Jair drank gratefully in a series of deep swallows. The bitter liquid burned through him; almost at once, it seemed to ease the pain. Leaning back against the wall with the Gnome, he watched as Garet Jax slipped ahead along the stairway, searching the darkness above. Behind them, Foraker and Edain Elessedil stood, guard at the stairway entrance, crouched down within the shadows.
«Better now?» Slanter asked him shortly.
«Better.»
«Like that time in the Black Oaks, eh? After you’d taken that beating from Spilk?»
«Like then.» Jair smiled, remembering. «Cures everything, that Gnome ale.»
The Gnome laughed bitterly. «Everything? No, boy — not what the walkers will do to us when they catch us. Not that. Coming for us, you know — just like they did in the Oaks. Coming from the shadows, soundless black things. I can smell them!»
«It’s just the stench of the place, Slanter.»
The Gnome’s rough face lowered, as if he had not heard. «Helt — gone just like that. Wouldn’t have thought we would lose the big man so quick. Bordermen are a tough breed; trackers tougher still. Wouldn’t have thought it would happen so quick with him.»
Jair swallowed. «I know. But it will be different for the rest of us, Slanter. The Gnomes are behind us. We’ll get away, just as we have done before.»
Slanter shook his head slowly. «No, we’ll not get away this time, boy. Not this time.» He pushed clear of the wall, his voice a whisper. «We’ll all be dead before it’s done.»
Roughly, he pulled the Valeman up after him, made a quick motion back to Foraker and Edain Elessedil and started up the stairs. The Dwarf and the Elf followed at once. They caught up with Garet Jax several dozen steps ahead, and together the five climbed into the blackness. Step by step, they made their way forward, with a small glimmer of light from somewhere above as their only guide. Within Graymark’s walls, it was like a tomb meant to hold them fast. Jair let the thought linger momentarily, desperately aware of his own mortality. He could die as easily as Helt had died. It was not assured, as he had once believed, that he would live to see the end of this.
Then he brushed the thought away. If he did not live, there would be no one to help Brin. It would end for both of them, for there could be no hope for her without him. Therefore, he must live, must find a way to live.
The stairway ended at a small wooden door with a barred window. It was through this window that the daylight slipped down into the darkness where they crouched. Slanter pressed his rough yellow face tight against the bars and peered out into what waited beyond. From somewhere close, the cries of their pursuers rang out.
«Have to run for it again,” Slanter said over his shoulder. «Ahead, through the great hall. Stay close!»
He threw open the wooden door, and they burst into the daylight beyond. They were in a long corridor, high–ceilinged and raftered, with narrow, arched windows cut into its length. Slanter took them left, past alcoves and doorways draped in shadow, shells of rusted armor on pedestals, and clusters of weapons hung against the stone. The cries grew stronger, and it seemed as if the company were running toward them. Then suddenly the cries were all about them. Behind, only yards back, a door flew wide and Gnome Hunters poured through. Howls of excitement burst from their throats, and they turned to give chase.
«Quick!» Slanter cried.
A shower of arrows whistled past them as they charged onto a threshold fronting a pair of tall, arched wooden doors carved in scroll. Slanter and Garet Jax flew, into the doors, the others only a step behind, and the doors snapped at their bindings and sagged open. The company rushed through, tumbling over one another down a long stairway. They were within the great hall that Slanter had sought, a massive chamber bright with daylight that poured through high, barred windows. Beams, aged and cracked by time’s passage, ran crosswise overhead, buttressing a cavernous ceiling canopied over rows of tables and benches scattered across the floor beneath in disarray. The five from Culhaven regained their footing hurriedly and raced through the tables and benches, dodging the debris frantically. Behind them, their pursuers burst into the room.
Jair followed Slanter right, conscious of Garet Jax close ahead. on the left and Foraker and Edain Elessedil trailing. His lungs burned and the wound in his shoulder throbbed painfully once again. Arrows and darts hissed wickedly past, thudding into the wood of the benches and tables. Gnome Hunters were appearing all about them now.
«The stairs!» Slanter screamed frantically.
Ahead, a long, curving stairway wound upward toward a balcony, and they broke for it in a rush. But several Gnomes reached it first, fanning out. across the lower steps, cutting off their escape. Garet Jax went directly for them. Springing atop a trestle bench, he skidded its length and dove into their midst. Somehow he kept his feet on landing, like a black cat striking out at the harried Gnomes. With long knives in both hands, he slipped past their cumbersome pikes and broadswords and slew them one by one, as if they were but helpless targets. By the time the others of the company reached him, all but a few lay dead, and those few had scattered.
Garet Jax wheeled on Slanter, blood streaking his lean face. «Where is the Croagh, Gnome?»
«Through the hallway beyond the balcony!» Slanter barely slowed to answer. «Quick, now!»
They were up the stairs in a rush. Behind, a cluster of new pursuers closed on the stairs and bounded after. Halfway up, the Gnomes caught them. The Weapons Master, the Dwarf, and the Elf turned to fight. Slanter pulled Jair a dozen steps further on to shield him. Gnome broadswords and maces swung high, and there was a fearful clash of metal. Garet Jax staggered back, separated from the others by the press of attackers. Then Elb Foraker went down, his head laid open to the bone by a deflected blade. He struggled to rise, blood streaming down his bearded face, and Edain Elessedil leaped to his aid. For an instant, the young Elf held the attackers at bay, his slender sword darting. But a pike pierced his sword arm. As his guard dropped, one of the Gnomes brought a mace
