Before a patch of clear ground, Miskyia stopped. Carefully she scattered a handful of seeds and spoke a few words in an ancient tongue. Slowly the earth began to move. A claw ripped through the grass, then another as the ground tumbled away and the Karzełek began to rise, their heads breaking above the earth, which vomited a sickly yellow pus around them. Iwa shivered as they dug their way out, their claws ripping away huge tracks of mud and grass. They were giants but at least they looked human, though their skin appeared hard as bleached leather and the colour of wet bark. Iwa cowered as the first of the Karzełek stood before them, their eyes flickering with an ancient enmity and their rough tongues licking past thick, chipped teeth as if tasting the air.
On either side of their necks a snake coiled, serpent heads reaching out to her. Iwa looked into their eyes, jet black and cold as they hissed, mouths falling open to reveal a pair of fangs that dripped with venom. She flinched and found that she was holding Miskyia’s hand.
Behind them Sturmovit drew close. The creatures were like him, the same dark eyes and leathery skin, but, for all his sinewy bulk, he could never have matched the primordial power of the muscles which moved stiffly under their hard flesh. Nor did he have anything like the snakes which coiled round their necks.
‘These are your kin,’ Miskyia said, reaching down to pat him, but Sturmovit continued to tremble, an angry grinding sound coming from between his lips. ‘There is little in the way of love to be lost between the Karzełek and their fighting brethren,’ she said to Iwa. ‘Once they were just like Sturmovit here, but some dabbled too deeply in the magic that lies in the hidden places of the deep. For centuries they gave themselves over to the magic of the mines; the craft seeped into their pores and twisted them into the creatures you see before you.’
Slowly the fighting Karzełek came forward to surround them, their faces filled with hostility as they looked first to Miskyia, then to Iwa and finally to the figure of Sturmovit crouched behind. A look of fierce hatred crossed their faces but they reserved the greatest loathing for Sturmovit, who clung close by the sorceress.
Iwa shrank away from them too. There was something unnatural about them, the way the light appeared to sink into their skin. There were ten or twelve of them at least and, for all their size, they moved quickly, blocking off any hope of escape. No, Iwa shuddered, if the craft could do this then she should have nothing to do with it. Just let me free my father and then I’ll run away, as far from this place as I can, even if it takes me to the edges of the forest and the far Lappish lands.
From the darkness there came a terrible howl. At first Iwa thought it was a giant wolf, but then the sound came again, a deep guttural call that chilled the air. The group parted to reveal another creature that towered over them. Without fear he came forward, his teeth bared, yellow and sharp. He carried a huge club spiked with the fangs of some once great animal, though what it could have been Iwa had no idea: even the largest boar had never borne such tusks. Around his neck too the snakes curled, their scales shimmering like a terrible rainbow.
But Miskyia held her ground. Before her the Karzełek leader stood, his hate-filled eyes watching her every move as the sorceress reached into the recesses of her gown and brought out a tiny figurine. For a moment nothing happened. Traces of anger and hatred played over the faces of the creatures, their mouths open so that Iwa could taste their breath hot about her. Then, with a final glance at the figurine, the leader grunted and raised his hand. Almost at once the Karzełek stood back, their muscles tense as if straining to be unleashed. But now there was something about them, a deep fear that dawned over the group so that, for all their power and their majesty, they drew back, spiked clubs trembling in their hands.
‘We serve the same master,’ Miskyia said, her voice betraying only the slightest tremor. Iwa curled her hand tight into a fist and hoped that the Karzełek wouldn’t notice the note of fear in Miskyia’s voice. Yet they kept back, the snake heads lowered and hissing.
‘You must forgive them,’ Miskyia said to her, the tension dropping from her voice, ‘but the Karzełek have little reason to trust us, and less to like us. Since time immemorial we have been their enemy and their persecutors.’
‘What word have you from our master?’ Again the leader pushed forward, his words guttural and halting as if the language of men was unfamiliar to him.
‘He is to walk the world once more,’ Miskyia replied. A murmur ran through the Karzełek.
‘How is that possible?’
‘Because of this,’ Miskyia replied, dangling the amulet from her fingers.
‘So the sacred crystal is found once again,’ the Karzełek leader said. ‘The master’s craft lives once more, here.’
‘But we have to be careful. Many enemies stand against us.’
‘What are your orders?’ There was a hard edge to the voice. The fighting Karzełek tensed, their hands gripping the shafts of their weapons. None wanted to take orders, least of all from a creature such as the one which stood before them. Their eyes burned with a fierce and primal anger. Would it not have been better to kill these creatures now, rid themselves of their ancient enemy? But the power of the amulet and their fear of the Lord Bethrayal
