above the cavern floor. Beyond that, in the dim light of the battle raging below them, Drakis could see the Stoneheart-last stronghold of the dwarven kings.
“Hey,
“It’s the most important treasure of this entire war, Megri, but you’re going to have a hard time finding it if you don’t know what it is,” Drakis grinned. “Weren’t you paying attention?”
“Yeah, dwarf barter-I forgot.”
“Can someone please tell Megri why we’re here?” Drakis called back, not slackening his pace.
Ethis spoke up at once. “Destroy the last of the dwarven thrones. . capture the Crown of the Ninth Throne. . and return with it and any other bounty we liberate in triumph to Lord Timuran.”
“That’s right,” Drakis called back, his voice starting to get hoarse from long use during the day. “We get to return with great honor and glory added to the House of Lord Timuran.”
“Maybe even a reward, eh?” Ethis chuckled. Drakis had long ago learned to listen carefully to chimera. Looking at them was useless in trying to gauge their intentions since chimera barely had a face, let alone facial expressions.
“Sure, Ethis,” KriChan, the captain’s manticorian second, responded. “Se’Shei Timuran himself will give you a big kiss, pat you on the head, and elevate you to Sixth Estate just so you can join him for breakfast.”
“More likely
Drakis eyed Braun as they ran side by side. He had known Braun all his life, but he had never acted so strangely before.
“Thick-bones-thick-head,” Ethis, snorted as he laughed. “You know the saying?
Both the chimerian and the goblin laughed heartily.
“Quiet, both of you!” ChuKang growled.
Drakis grimaced. Chimera approached battle with a lot more finesse than the manticores. They weren’t particularly strong, but they were fast and difficult to damage; their skeletons were telescoping plates and cartilage instead of the more rigid and brittle bones of the manticores or humans. They could change their skin color to blend into their surroundings and alter their skeletal frame at will so that they might be nearly as compact as a dwarf to nearly twice as tall as Drakis. Chimera made fine warriors but tended to be clannish and exclude others. He didn’t have anything against the chimera and always remembered them as maybe a little playful but never cruel to him. But now Ethis was making racial jokes?
“We’re coming to the end and the beginning all at once,” Braun huffed next to Drakis. “The whole pointless bloodletting and death dealing-all for the amusement of the elven children! We should stop. . savor the moment. .”
“We’re almost there,” Drakis snapped. “We can’t stop now.”
“You cannot run from yourself, Drakis,” Braun shook while he ran. His craggy face was sweating profusely. “The ghosts are lurking, waiting to pounce on you given any opportunity. They’ll leap from their little box and bite old Timuran right in his skinny ass!”
“Shut up, Braun! The Tribune will get the wrong idea. .”
“Do you think so? I thought I was speaking very clearly!”
“Just keep your mouth shut and we may salvage a way out of this yet. If we get hold of that last Dwarven Crown, the glory to House Timuran will be. .”
“I don’t give a damn about the House glory!” Braun spat back. “It’s not
“You know why as well as anyone!” Drakis shook his head. They had fought their way so far, lost more than forty brothers from their own Centurai in the last hour, and now their Proxi wanted to just walk away from the reward? What in the name of the gods was wrong with everyone today?
“Well, it looks like none of us are going to have to worry about the spoils today,” Ethis grumbled. “Look up ahead.”
They were rounding a towering stalagmite when they saw it. More than a hundred yards beyond TsuRag and GriChag, three full Cohorts had erupted from folds appearing on the causeway in front of them. More than a thousand Impress Warriors were now dashing madly toward the Last Gate ahead of them.
“Where did they come from?” Drakis asked sourly.
“What difference does it make,” Braun sighed, “so long as they’re the ones doing the bleeding?”
“Damn you, Braun!” KriChan’s golden eyes flashed in the darkness. “If you weren’t our Proxi, I’d tear out your heart right here and now!”
Drakis turned toward ChuKang. “Come on! We’ve come this far-we can still beat them to the throne!”
“Wait! Something’s not right,” ChuKang snarled.
The human stepped in front of their manticorian captain and angrily turned. “ChuKang! The lead Cohorts will break against the gate tower. Let them do the dying and then we. .”
ChuKang was not looking at Drakis; the manticore’s gold-hued eyes were fixed on something at the top of the causeway.
Drakis could feel the heat growing on his neck. He turned and drew in a sharp breath.
The front Cohorts had engaged the Thorgreld Gate; an upside-down tower suspended from the cavern ceiling down to meet the rising causeway, but the dwarves once more were anticipating them. A cascade of molten lava, held in check for uncounted centuries against this day, was loosed by the dwarven defenders from above the gate. Its brilliant, blinding stream arced out from the inverted tower’s spouts and poured down on the ledge below. Flashes of blue could be seen near its base-evidence of the desperate attempts of the Tribunes to hold back the incinerating river of liquid rock through their Proxi
The lava, however, continued to pour from above, rolling in a devastating torrent over the remaining warriors and into the entire Cohort behind it. The warriors of the Second Cohort broke ranks, running back down the causeway directly toward Drakis and his comrades, but the river of lava was rapidly overtaking them.
Drakis glanced at his feet. The fitted cobblestones of the causeway had been formed with a slight trough in the middle-the perfect channel for a river of molten rock.
“Back!” ChuKang shouted. “Back down! Now!” His commands were pointless as those behind him were already trying to move. But the causeway was packed now with other Centurai from the Imperial Army who had appeared behind them. Those closest to the front started shouting and pushing at those behind. Panic rose like a tide among the warriors. Drakis plunged into the fray, trying desperately to get away from the onrushing death. He heard the screams of several warriors as they were pushed over the edge by their terrified companions.
The deadly tide hissed menacingly behind him as the mass of warriors compressed around him. The air was being pressed out of his lungs.
A massive hand grabbed the back of his breastplate and pulled him back. He felt himself swinging wildly, his head banging against his own shoulder plate, and then suddenly he was spinning through the air. His scream was cut short as his back slammed against stone and he tumbled down a rock face.
His fall was only a few feet down from where he impacted, but it felt as though he had fallen much farther. Still panicked, he scrambled backward, clawing at the ground until he reached the wall. Only then did he take in his surroundings.
He was sitting on a rock outcropping above the causeway. The other members of his Octian were there as well, a few of them a little bruised but otherwise intact. ChuKang was pulling himself up the cavern wall to join them.
