“I’m about all done in, myself,” Much said wearily, leaning his head back against the rocky side of the passage.
“We shouldn’t rest here for long,” Chisul said, his voice raspy.
“I don’t think many of us have the strength to go on,” Perin said, his chubby face soaked with sweat. “I’m on my last legs.”
“Us too,” the grizzled Marl Anvil said. He sat with his wife slumped against him and his three grandchildren huddled close.
The pain in Bradok’s stomach seemed to disappear as he imagined what the old dwarf must be feeling, the fear that he might be forced to watch his precious ones starve to death. Without thinking about it, Bradok performed the act he’d done so many times over the past few days. He slipped his hand into his pocket and drew out the little compass. As before, there was not any change or alteration in its appearance; the blind seer still hovered there, pointing, unwavering, up the same passage.
“No,” he croaked, using his voice for the first time in hours. He gripped the compass tightly in his hand and stared intently at it. “We need food,” he commanded, “or we perish.”
Nothing happened. After a moment Chisul laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern.
“Maybe she thinks we’re not hungry enough yet,” he said.
“Maybe she means that there’s food up ahead, just a little farther,” Rose said hopefully.
“Let’s send those of us who can still walk up ahead a bit,” Chisul said. “If they find food, they can bring it back to the others. I’m willing to go.”
The survivors of Ironroot exchanged glances with one another, and several of them nodded in agreement.
“No, we should stick together,” Kellik said. “Deep caves like these can be dangerous places.”
More nods than before ran through the survivors.
“We need food,” Bradok said, “soon.”
“Ask her again,” Rose said, indicating the compass. “She’s a woman; maybe she’s changed her mind.”
Bradok looked down at the purple stone on top of the compass. “Please,” he said softly. “We can’t go on. We have to have some food. Please show us the way.”
He took a breath and pressed the little catch. The lid sprang open, and multicolored light bubbled up out of the little well inside, like liquid. After a moment the light flared brightly, jumping up into the air above the compass and resolving itself into a new image: that of Reorx’s warhammer.
The hammer hung in the air above the compass, rotating slowly as if spinning on the pommel of the handle. The image was at least two feet high, making it easy for everyone to see it. After a moment, it began to move, dropping down to hover on its side. The hammer spun lazily for a moment; then it snapped around, its handle pointing back down the passage like a compass needle.
“That’s the way we just came!” Chisul exclaimed. “We know there’s nothing back
Bradok ignored Chisul. Adrenaline flooded through his body, washing away the weariness and the aches of travel. He leaped to his feet excitedly, not taking his eyes off the pointing shaft of the warhammer’s handle.
“This way,” he said, launching himself back down the passage, back in the direction they had just traveled.
“There’s nothing that way,” Chisul called after him. “We know; we’ve already been there.”
“He’s right, lad,” Much said.
“No,” Bradok yelled back. “We must have missed something.”
Not looking to see if anyone followed him, Bradok ran with the image of the hammer leading him. His legs carried him as easily as if he’d just enjoyed days of rest and food. The sound of people gradually picking up and following him reached his ears, and he slowed a bit to allow them to catch up.
As he reached the little trickle of water where they’d last refilled their waterskins, the hammer jumped. Bradok skidded to a halt on the wet floor.
The handle was pointing straight at the side of the passage. He ran his free hand over the stone but could detect no fissures or openings, just the tiny crack at the base where the trickle of water disappeared.
“This is it?” Rose said, panting. She was the first to reach the spot after Bradok, with the others staggering behind her.
Bradok checked the compass, but the hammer’s handle hadn’t moved. He closed the lid, and the image of the hammer disappeared.
“Give me a hammer,” he said, stowing the compass back in his pocket.
“What for?” Vulnar said.
Bradok turned and grabbed the ragged dwarf by the front his shirt. “Just do it,” he said.
“Here ya go,” Kellik said, passing up a short warhammer from his place in the crowd.
Bradok took the weapon, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He swung it back over his shoulder then smashed its narrow steel head forward against the wall. A thunderous boom resounded through the passage and a spiderweb of cracks spread out from the point where the hammer struck the wall.
“It’s hollow!” Rose said, a radiant smile splitting her face. “There’s something back there.”
“I doubt it’s someone’s larder,” Chisul said, drawing his short sword. “We should be prepared for anything.”
“Yes, anything. It could be a way out!” said the ever-optimistic Rose.
Bradok ignored them all and swung the hammer again and again. On the third strike, the head of the hammer disappeared into the wall and a large chunk of rock fell away into the darkness beyond.
CHAPTER 10
A blast of sweet air burst over Bradok as he wrenched the hammer free from the hole in the wall. He hadn’t realized how stale the air in the fissure had become. The air issuing from the black hole bore a vaguely spicy smell, reminding him of the spice rack Sapphire always had in the kitchen when he was growing up.
“I know that smell,” Halum Ironband said.
Halum reminded Bradok of the kind of dwarf one might find in the seediest tavern in the lowest hall in Ironroot. His clothes were all dark and well worn, and his face bore the markings of many scrapes and brawls. When he smiled, Halum showed at least three gold teeth and the stained gums of a blackroot user.
The rough dwarf leaned toward the hole and sniffed the air like a chef savoring a fine wine. “Peppertops,” he concluded after a moment.
“Is that food?” little Graylin Anvil asked his grandfather.
Marl Anvil grinned his gap-toothed smile and nodded.
Bradok hefted the hammer and struck the wall as hard as he could. That time a large slab of rock exploded inward, leaving a passage almost wide enough for him to squeeze through. Two more hard hits doubled the size of the opening.
“Bring up the lantern,” Bradok called, squinting in an attempt to make out anything in the blackness beyond the opening.
One of the blue lanterns materialized, being passed down the passage on the end of its pole. When Bradok got it, he stuck it into the hole as far as the pole would reach.
A large chamber lay beyond, full of stalactites and stalagmites and joined columns of rock. The air felt drier and fresher than the air in the long, rough passage they’d been using. All along the bases of the stalagmites and around every column, Bradok could see that mushrooms were growing. Tall, speckled peppertops rose on thick, meaty stalks, while short, broad-topped honey mushrooms clustered beneath them. Bradok had never favored mushrooms as most others of his race sometimes did, but as hungry as he was, they looked every bit as delicious as a banquet.
“Well,” someone demanded. “What do you see?”
