Suddenly Bronwyn realized that the tunnel had widened.
She no longer felt the walls rushing past her, brushing her along one side and then the other. And she no longer felt the ripple of the closely fitted stones beneath her. The floor over which she careened was still smooth but seemingly of solid stone.
She was inside the mountain now, Bronwyn realized, and still falling.
Her speed hadn't lessened much, but at least she had some room to maneuver. She wrenched herself to one side, tucking her knees up against her chest and then kicking out as hard as she could. Neither her outstretched hands nor her kicking feet managed to graze a wall, but stretching herself out full length had some effect. Her wild slide began to slow. Bronwyn dared to hope that the ride was almost over.
Just then she hit another curve. Her weight shifted, sending her into a spin. Completely out of control now, Bronwyn tumbled and rolled. She flailed about wildly, seeking something, anything, to hold onto that might halt her wild ride. There was nothing; the stone floor and walls were smooth and sheer. She was grateful for that. If the tunnel had been rough, she would have been torn and battered past recognition, but at the moment, she would almost welcome a boulder in her path if it would stop her precipitous slide.
Then, suddenly, one was there-or at least, something that closely resembled a boulder. She caught a glimpse of it, silhouetted against some faint, distant light far beyond. She threw her arms over her head to ward her face, and then plunged headfirst into a hard, rounded wall.
Fortunately for Bronwyn, the 'wall' had some give to it. A startled oofl wheezed out, and strong, stubby arms and legs thrashed about in a brief, desperate attempt to hold position on the steep incline. For just a moment, Bronwyn grappled with her unseen 'rescuer' as they both teetered on the edge of a fall. They lost the battle, and the slide resumed in a tangle of arms and legs and a flurry of gruff-voiced and exceedingly earthy curses.
The tunnel began to level out, and Bronwyn slowly skidded and spun to a stop. She had no idea where she was, but at least there was a bit of light-a soft, greenish glow, probably due to the phosphoric lichens that grew in some underground caverns. Bronwyn lay flat on her back, willing the whirling shapes and colors to sort themselves out into images she could use. With one hand she groped for her knife, in case she needed to defend herself against what she could not yet see.
A few paces away, Ebenezer groaned and rolled up onto his knees. He hurt from beard to boots, but his belly had definitely taken the worst of it. Physical pain was something he knew, something he could handle. Compared to the agonizing grief of his clan's destruction, a few aches and pains was almost a relief. A distraction. So was the anger that welled up when his eyes settled on the small, disheveled woman sprawled out on the stone floor of the cavern.
Ebenezer rose to his feet and staggered over to the dazed human. 'Well, are you gonna lie there all day?' he demanded in a querulous voice.
She opened her eyes and squinted in the direction of his voice. Her head bobbed around a bit, as if she were trying to peer through a swirling haze.
'A dwarf;' she muttered, and her eyes drifted closed again. 'No wonder I thought I'd run into a boulder.'
'You weren't far wrong,' Ebenezer said in a tight, rumbling growl, 'only boulders generally don't go taking revenge when they're attacked.'
That got her attention. Her eyes popped open, and she pulled a long knife out of a sheath attached to one side of her belt. She hauled herself onto her feet, looking so wildly unsteady that Ebenezer confidently waited for her to fail. She wobbled a mite, but stayed up. Dropping to a respectable crouch, she held her knife in a practiced, blade-down grip.
A fight, then. That was fine with Ebenezer. He pulled from his belt the hammer he'd taken from Frodwinner's cold, clenched fist.
'You're wrong. I didn't attack you,' the woman stated as she began to circle around him.
He turned with her, rubbing his aching belly. 'Yeah? What would you call it?'
'Falling.'
Despite his anger, Ebenezer had to admit that there was something to that. When humans wanted to bombard someone, they didn't generally use their own bodies as missiles. Ebenezer granted that this human might not have deliberately halted his process up to the fortress, but he still had ample justification for wrath. His clanmates had been slain or captured. Ebenezer would kill any Zhent he saw in Stoneshaft tunnels, starting with this one.
'Falling, eh?' Ebenezer echoed bitterly. 'Get ready to fall a mite further. I'm-a gonna send you and all your kind straight to the Abyss.'
He circled her, measuring her height and balance and stance. Humans, in his experience, were fairly predictable. When they saw a hammer or axe coming at them,! most of them instinctively ducked. But it seemed that their instincts didn't take into reckoning the measure of a dwarf's height and reach. Ebenezer noticed that oftentimes all they managed to do was lean into the coming blow. Aim at the shoulder, and he'd get the head. A good deal, by his measure.
He lashed out, swinging the hammer in a high, side-sweeping blow.
But this human didn't respond as Ebenezer had anticipated. She dropped flat to the cave floor, rolled in the opposite direction of his hammer swing, and came up behind him. Her knife slashed across the seat of his leather breeches.
He whirled at her, one hand clutching at the sudden, stinging breeze. 'You've fought dwarves before,' he observed coldly. That confirmed his suspicions. Not many humans took on a dwarf, not unless they had a powerful personal grudge or a bunch of Mends close at hand. Judging by the devastation of the clanhold, she had a big bunch of Mends.
The woman danced back a few paces. Her big-eyed gaze darted around the cavern as if searching for a means of escape. 'I've known some dwarves, that's all.' She lifted one eyebrow and gave him a small, knowing smile. 'One of them, I knew very well.'
Her meaning was unmistakable, but Ebenezer wasn't buying that. Humans and dwarves did very littie cavorting, and no serious courting to speak of. 'Bah!' he scoffed. 'What would a dwarf want with the likes of you?'
She proceeded to tell him, in detail so vivid that he was certain his cheeks were as red as his beard. Ebenezer liked a good tall tale as much as the next dwarf; but he was in no mood to swap boasts with a murderous Zhent wench. He cut her off with a quick advance, followed by a series of hammer-swings that kept her dodging and retreating for several long moments.
'You're quick,' he gave her, when they both paused for breath. 'But trying to distract me just ain't going to work!'
'No?' The woman smirked and lunged forward with a knife feint.
Ebenezer leaned back away from the blade. She sprang at him before he could right himself He did his best to bring the hammer up and around, but she was already in too close.
Her weight slammed into him-a pretty good hit for such a scrawny thing, but Ebenezer was used to harder hits, and he didn't expect to go down. He wouldn't have, except for the large stone right behind him. Seems that he had been a mite distracted, after all. Never saw the rock. It hit the back of his knees, which buckled and folded on him. Ebenezer toppled back, much to his mortification.
The woman went down with him, writhing and scratching and spitting mad, impossible to hit in so close and just generally as hard to hold as a trout. Little and puny she might be, but she fought with a fury that would have had Tarlamera's cats sitting up and taking notice.
Embarrassed now as well as angry Ebenezer wanted nothing more than to be finished with this. He palmed the stone floor in search of his hammer. Nothing. He cast a look to one side-and hollered when the damn female sank her teeth into his exposed ear. The weapon lay well out of reach. Ebenezer swore and shoved the two- legged she-cat away. He scrambled to his feet and then dived for the hammer.
The woman spat blood and leaped after him. Her arms wrapped around his ankles. Down he went, flopping onto his already abused belly. His chin hit the stone with a mind-numbing crack. Worse, his outstretched fingers fell short of the weapon's handle.
She scrambled over his back and grabbed the hammer, then flung it away as far as she could. Ebenezer
