Modru's evil art; it could be seen that the Dwarves had delved up to the wall of the chamber, but from all appearances, the Gargon had blasted through the weakened wall-whether by spell or by sheer strength, the Squad could not say.
The old tales told that the Gargon had slain many Dwarves, including a Dwarf King and his son: Third Glain fellin 4E780, and with him Om was killed. After they and others were slaughtered in a bloody day of great butchery, the Dwarves fled Kraggen-cor. Yet Dwarves were not the only ones driven from this region: great numbers of Elves of the bordering Realm of Darda Galion fled from the Dread, as well as steaders of Riamon. The Gargon ruled Black Drimroen-deeve for more than one thousand years, til slain by Tuck, Galen, Gildor, and Brega in a fiery doom. It took all of their efforts to vanquish this terrible foe, and even then it was but by chance circumstance that they slew the Dread, for it was a mighty creature.
Yet, as mighty as it had been, still it had not been able to break out of this prison until a wall had been weakened by delvers. The Seven were dismayed by this knowledge, for it meant that this chamber was a dungeon of extraordinary strength: it had defied the power of a mighty Gargon for nearly three millennia. Hence, how could the comrades ejven hope to break free in a matter of mere hours in order to aid Durek-especially in the teeth of a force of Spawn?
'What is the hour, Shannon?' asked Perry, for he was
bone weary.
'It is midmom of the twenty-fourth of November,' answered the Elf.
Lord Kian's face took on a grim look at Silverleaf s words, for the time was perilously short, and they were yet trapped. Lord Kian knew, however, that for whatever plan-if any- they devised for winning free, rested warriors were needed. They also needed water, for theirs was nearly gone. He did not know what mischief the Yrm were devising, but it was certain mat they would attack sooner or later. 'The Rukha seem to have fallen quiet,' said Kian, 'planning some deviltry. They can afford to wait for reinforcements, for we are trapped. We must use this time to recover our own spent strength: While we are under siege, we will take turns resting. Two will hold the way while the others rest, perhaps even sleep. Keep nearby to aid in the event of attack. Stay out of arrow flight from the cleft. Think on ways that we may escape-though Adon knows how that may be.'
Perry lay down off to one side. He was exhausted: the flight had taken much of his strength, for the way had been hard and he was of small stature. He rested his head against his pack, and his thoughts were awhirl. He felt something tugging and nagging at the back of his mind, but he could not bring it to the fore. He believed that something was being overlooked, yet he knew not what. He gazed at the smooth carven walls, ceiling, and floor of the chamber. The silveron vein came through the guarded broken wall and ran on across the floor to vanish into the shadows. The argent line had many offshoots, running short distances, tapering off into thinner and thinner veins, to finally disappear. One such seam zigged across the ceiling, to end in a whorl. Another seam ran to the large stone block in the center of the chamber and up the side, to come to an end among the writhing runes set thereupon by the Gargon. Yet another silver line shot up a side wall, to crash back to the floor. Perry lay there letting his gaze follow the precious seams, and even though the Rucken enemy was but a few paces away, he gradually drifted into slumber as his eyes roamed along glittering pathways streaking across the prison.
Perry slept for five hours without moving, exhausted, exempted from guard duty by the others; but then he began to dream: He was back on the Argon, riding the raft. But the river wasn't water; instead it was flowing silveron. The argent stream rushed into a roaring gap, and the raft was borne into a tunnel. Perry looked about and saw that he was riding with the other companions, yet there was a hooded Dwarf sitting on the far end of the float whom Perry did not recognize, for he could not see the Dwarfs face.
The starsilver river rushed through dark caverns, carrying the raft along, and Rucks sprang up to give chase. Onward the raft whirled, to come to many Dwarves delving stone and scooping up treasured water into sacks, which they bore away. The float sped toward a stone wall, but just before the craft crashed into it, the wall burst outward and a dark Gargon jumped forth with four warriors in pursuit. The raft whirled into the chamber and sped on the silveron vein out the other side, but all the companions were tumbled off by the far stone wall, even though the float somehow went on through. The wall became transparent, and Perry could see that the raft was caught in an eddy of silveron, and the mysterious Dwarf was still aboard in spite of the invisible wall. Perry looked at the Dwarf and called, 'Help us. Help us get through. You got out; how can we get out too?'
The Dwarf turned and threw back his hood. It was Barak! The dead Gatemaster! Slain by the Rucks far away on the shores of the Argon River! 'All delved chambers have ways* in,' Barak intoned in a sepulchral voice, 'and ways out, if you can find the secret of the door and have the key. Without the key even a Wizard or an evil Vulk cannot pass through some doors.' The raft burst into flames, and Barak lay down onvthe platform and uttered one more word: 'Gldr!'
The burning raft whirled off on the swift-running silveron vein, and Perry woke up calling out, 'Barak! Barak! Come back!'
When Perry opened his eyes, Shannon Silverleaf was bending over the Warrow shaking him by the shoulder. 'Wake up, Friend Perry,' urged the Elf, 'your slumber disturbs you.'
'Oh, Shannon, I had the strangest dream,' declared the Warrow, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the far wall to see if it was truly transparent; but he saw only solid stone. 'It was all mixed up with rivers of silveron, the Rucks, this chamber, the Dread, and a conversation I had with Barak long ago in our last camp by the Great River Argon, where he was slain.'
'Though Elves do not sleep as Men, Drimma, and Waerlinga do,' stated Shannon, 'still I believe I can understand the way of some dreams. Though many are strange and appear to make little sense, now and again darktide visions do seem to have significance; mayhap yours is one of those.'
'Maybe it is,' agreed Perry. 'I've got to talk to Delk. He's a Gatemaster, as was Barak.' The Warrow rose and went to the brown-bearded Dwarf who was standing guard at
the notch with Ursor. 'Delk,' began Perry, 'Barak and I often chatted at night. Once he told me that all delved chambers had doors, some secret; and for those what is needed is to divine each secret and to have the key it calls for. Delk, this Gargon's Lair is a delved chamber. Surely there must be a way out other than through a hole in a broken wall. Barak must be right.'
'Were this chamber Chak-deived, I would agree,' grunted Delk, 'but it is not. The work is more like that of… of.._.' Delk fell silent in thought, then continued. 'Old beyond measure, I deem, like the work of an ancient Folk called the Lianion-Elves-though but traces of their craft remain that I have seen.'
'Lianion-Elves?' exclaimed Shannon. 'The Lianion-Elves are my Folk, the Lian!' Now it was Silverieaf's turn to fall silent and study the chamber. 'You are correct, Drimm Delk: this chamber does resemble the work of my ancestors, though it is different in some ways. I knew that my Folk had known of the Lost Prison, but that we delved it would be news to me. And if delved by the Lian, I doubt that originally it was meant to house such a guest as a Gargon-though as to its initial intent, I cannot say.'
'Well, if Barak was right,' said Perry, 'there is a secret way out strong enough to defy even an evil Vulk. And if we can find it, maybe we can divine the way to open it. You are a Gatemaster, Delk; surely you can locate a hidden door. And you, Shannon, your Folk perhaps made this place; maybe you can find the secret way. We've got to try.'
'Ah, but Friend Perry,' protested Delk, 'we all have searched every square inch-walls and floor alike-and we have found nought.' Delk looked from the cleft to the far wall and finally at the slain Rucks; then he growled thoughtfully, 'Nay, not all; we have not searched it all. We have not searched where the Grg arrows can reach. But the dead-Ukh barricade is now high enough that if we stay low we can safely examine the stone block in the center of the chamber.''
Delk awakened Borin to take his place at the cleft, and then Gatemaster, Elf, and Warrow crawled to the central platform and began the search.
Perry watched as the other two carefully inspected the stone, but his mind kept spinning back to his dream of Barak: the Dwarf had said, 'Gldr!' yet Perry knew as a Ravenbook Scholar that gldr was the Sluk word for 'fire.' Though the raft in-the dream had burst into flames, why would^he dream that Barak had said a Sliik word? How did fire bear on their problem? Maybe it meant nothing. Perry watched as the search continued.
Delk had begun to examine the silveron seam running up the side of the block, and suddenly he gave a start. 'This vein is not native to the stone,' he muttered after long study, 'it is crofted! — made to look like a natural branching of the starsilver offshoot. And see! Here the silveron is shaped strangely, like two runes-though I cannot fathom their message.'
