“How soon until Sheedra’s likely to, er, wake up or lose patience and come in and check on us?” Jaymes asked.
Pete looked up. “Could be any minute. More likely days, but we’ll hear her when she starts to move that boulder, that’s for sure.”
“Right,” agreed the warrior. “Best get to work, then.”
Quickly the three gnomes got started. Pete selected an empty cauldron for the final product, while Carbo collected a series of measuring cups, and assembled a small balance scale. Sulfie started to grind some of her yellow rock into powder, using a large mortar and pestle, while Carbo scraped charcoal from several charred logs, and Salty Pete added small portions of his saltpeter from one of his kettles. Dram and Jaymes warily watched the boulder at the door, which fortunately exhibited no signs of movement.
For a long time the gnomes worked in busy contentment, grinding and sifting, measuring and weighing, adding carefully determined amounts of the three ingredients to the large kettle. They took turns stirring, re-sifting, and thoroughly mixing, increasing the amount until they had used up nearly all of their supply of sulfir.
“Yep,” Carbo said finally, peering into the cauldron after they had mixed and remixed it extensively. He reached down, critically examining the black powder within. “That certainly resembles the stuff Pap used to make.”
“Well, the other batch looked like the old stuff, too,” Dram noted sourly. “It just fizzled and smoked, if you recall.”
“We didn’t have Pete’s help when we made that version, did we?” Carbo retorted.
“What next?” Jaymes asked impatiently.
“We put it in something, fill it up, and seal it. One of those casks will do. We jam that down by the rock, then set a fuse, light it, and… I guess we’d better hide real good, too,” Pete said. “We want to blow the rock up but not ourselves. Right?”
“Right,” Dram agreed.
“Petey?” The bustling activity froze at the sound of Sheedra’s voice. They all looked at Salty Pete.
“What is it, Mistress?” he asked, with a gulp.
“Did you kill the nasties yet? Do you need my help?”
“Um, no, Mistress. Soon. I am figuring out an especially painful way to do it.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“I will tell you when they’re real dead. Soon, all right?”
“All right, best friend.”
There turned out to be enough powder to fill three casks, right to the top, so they did so, sealing all of them tightly with wax. “The tighter the seal, the better the blast, Pap always used to say,” Carbo said approvingly. “I think one of these will be enough.”
“What about the other two?” asked Pete.
“We take ’em with us,” Jaymes suggested. “Let’s pile some dirt around them over in the corner.”
Finally they had one keg positioned, while the other two were, hopefully, insulated from the anticipated explosion.
“Let’s light the fuse, and then go down that hallway and around the corner, far into my room. There’s a storage closet in the back where we can shut the door and hide,” Carbo said. “You might want to put your hands over your ears, too.”
Pete turned his face to the massive rock. “Oh, Mistress?” he called. “Mistress Sheedra?”
“Yes, Petey?” came the sibilant response.
“Put your ear real close to the rock. You will hear me torture the nasties before you hear their dying screams.”
“Oh, Petey. I like that.”
They quickly made a fuse out of the same black powder. After a final examination of the keg, Pete touched a spark to the line of powder, which immediately began to fizzle and pop, burning toward the keg. The companions dashed into the hall, around the corner, and down the narrow hallway into Pete’s small sleeping chamber. They were barely able to jam themselves into the small closet and pull the door shut, lacing their hands over their ears, before they heard a stunning explosion that rocked the closet, knocked the wind from their lungs, and left their ears ringing.
The closet door sagged inward but held. Jaymes was the first to recover, staggering to his feet, pulling the gnomes and dwarf up too. He charged out of the room and up the hall with his sword in his hand. The shop was revealed as a mess of wreckage and choking smoke. Large cauldrons had been overturned, the benches smashed, with smoldering bits of debris everywhere. The smoke was thick, but he saw that the blast had worked and the heavy boulder had been expelled into the outer corridor by the explosion.
Wasting no time, he charged into the hall and looked around, waving his hand to clear away the smoke. The rock had been tossed six or eight feet. A taloned foot and a slinky black body stuck out from under it, twitching. Its huge head was out of sight.
Dram came out and joined him, chuckling at the sight.
“Musta been listening ‘real close’ at the door, like Pete suggested. I guess she got popped over the head.”
“Let’s get going-come on!” Jaymes barked.
By then the three gnomes had emerged into the hallway, Carbo and Salty Pete each carrying one of the extra kegs of powder they had prepared. Together the companions raced up the muddy corridor, into the adjoining passage, back to the pit. With profound relief Jaymes saw the rope still dangled from the opening overhead.
“Quick!” Dram urged, racing to the rope, taking hold of the bottom to brace it for the gnomes. Overhead the sky was a hazy blue, a promise of freedom and fresh air awaiting them.
The daylight vanished, replaced by a shadow darker than night. The black dragon loomed above them, the bulk of her massive body blocking out the light.
“Uh-oh!” Pete cried suddenly, pointing upward. “It’s Sheedra. She must have gotten out from under the boulder, and slipped out her bolt hole, and come around here. I think she’s mad!”
“Right, back the way we came!” cried Dram. He pushed Carbo and Sulfie, who had just reached the bottom of the rope, then followed them, sprinting back toward Pete’s workshop.
Sheedra slithered down through the hole like a monstrous snake diving into a rabbit’s burrow. She was immense, black, and scaly, with muscular shoulders and a wedge of a head that lashed from side to side, yellow eyes staring into the darkness. Her huge wings flapped, completely filling the round chamber, and she hissed with a sound of a volcanic steam leak.
“Petey!” she called, her voice stern, crackling. “Nasties tried to kill me!”
“Run!” screamed Sulfie, sprinting as fast as her little legs could carry her. Her brothers, and Dram, came behind. Jaymes, however, stepped into the darkness of a side corridor, crouching low, his blade-flames extinguished-held low.
“There are the nasties-hssst!” spat the monstrous serpent, her forked tongue flashing in the darkness.
Serpentine jaws gaped. The warrior heard a gurgle of bubbling pressure, then a gout of caustic acid streamed past him. Someone screamed loudly down the twisting passage.
Jaymes twisted the hilt of his sword in his two hands, outlining him and the weapon in blue flame. The dragon took no notice of him, however, slithering after the fleeing gnomes and dwarf.
The warrior raised the sword before him, flames surging brightly from the blade. Another stream of acid spewed down the corridor, away from him-the mere vapors brought tears to his eyes.
Jaymes stepped into the corridor and from behind charged the black dragon, which was coiling to fling herself after the gnomes. She roared loudly as the flaming sword pierced her skin. Sheedra’s head snapped around, like a striking cobra, but the swordsman was already beside her, and with one brutal slash he chopped through her neck. Drooling acid, jaws gaping, the black head tumbled free. Sheedra’s body thrashed wildly, its huge tail smashing Jaymes to the side. By the time he sat up, however, the corpse was gurgling, and the black dragon was dead.
“Carbo’s burned!” Sulfie was sobbing, as she and Pete carried the stricken gnome back into the chamber. Carbo’s tunic was half dissolved, and the upper part of his body and his head were covered with terrible wounds.
“There’ll be more spawn coming,” Pete warned, as Dram scrambled up the rope. “We gotta get him out of
