Whose Sword is it, Anyway?

By Ralph Benedetto, Jr.

Part Four of Five

PART FOUR:

The Shadow Gnomes

"Oh, please, sir! The Duvarian Gardens of Pleasure? This is a course in fact, not fiction! If you're going to sully your mind with such nonsense, you might as well leave your brain at the door, as you'll get no use out of it. "If you're going to believe in such fantasies, why not go all the way and believe in the Grimwinder? Or even the Shadow Gnomes?"

--answer to a question by Miklan Grynwulde, Ph.D. former lecturer College of Ru'aath

TWENTY-SEVEN

"I'm really beginning to regret leaving Fang Mountain," Caitlin said, pulling her hood up in a futile attempt to keep the rain off her head. It had been raining for three days nonstop, a cold driving rain that seemed to find its way into and through the thickest clothing and onto bare skin which it left chilled and wet.

"Oh, come on!" Rivenbark protested. "We're back on track again! How can you not be happy?!" He looked up directly into the rain and spun around in a circle, his arms outstretched. "Rain or no rain, we're making progress!"

In spite of herself, Caitlin laughed, then she shook her head. Typical Rivenbark.

Mal looked around. Through the thick curtain of rain, he could still see the rock walls that lined the path. When it had first started to rain, a week after they'd left Fang Mountain, Mal had been concerned that the walls would channel the water into a flood down the path, but the water seemed to be draining away somewhere. Still, the walls trapped sound, concentrating it and helping it to carry. It also trapped travelers. If anyone attacked them, they'd have no option but to stand and fight. There was nowhere to run to.

"I wouldn't yell like that," he told Rivenbark.

"Oh, come on!" Rivenbark cried. "Not you, too! We were underground for weeks! Months! And now we're miles from anywhere! Even if someone was still looking for us, they'd never find us! Besides, who could hear me?!"

"I might," said a soft voice, then several things happened very quickly.

A tall figure dressed in a flowing cloak seemed to materialize out of a stone outcropping. He grabbed Caitlin, putting one hand over her mouth and the other around her waist. Caitlin, reacting without thought, made a fist with her left hand, put her right hand on top of her left and used the power of both arms to drive her elbow into the man's solar plexus. His grip loosened, and she repeated the move. Breaking free of his arms, she took a step away from him and then whirled and kicked him sharply between the legs. With a muffled grunt, he doubled over and she aimed a snap kick at his head. He stumbled back several feet, touched the rock and vanished again.

After an instant of surprise, Caitlin darted at the rock, pushing against it and rubbing her palms across the stone. "Where did he go?" She looked at Rivenbark. "Help me find the door he vanished through!"

"I was staring straight at him," Mal said. "And I didn't see him go through a door."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Caitlin responded. "There has to be a door!"

She and Rivenbark covered every inch of the large rock, the water streaming off of the stone and their hands, without finding a door of any sort.

"There's nothing here," Rivenbark said finally. "If there was, we'd have found it by now."

"Then how did he pass through this stone?" Caitlin asked angrily. She glared at the rock, then at Rivenbark, then at Mal. The rain, unheeded, plastered her hair to her head and ran down her face.

"I don't know," Rivenbark admitted, "but he didn't use a secret door. I'm sure of that."

"Maybe he didn't pass into the stone at all," Mal broke in thoughtfully.

"Are you crazy?!" Caitlin snapped. "I saw him go into the rock."

"No you didn't," Mal said, shaking his head. "At least, I didn't. What I saw was him stumble against the rock and then vanish."

"So?"

Mal shrugged. "I've been thinking about it while the two of you searched. Now, he must have done one of a few things." He ticked them off on his fingers as he listed them. "He must have used a secret door..."

Rivenbark started to open his mouth, but Mal pressed on ignoring him.

"He must have magically passed into the rock, he must have turned invisible or he must have camouflaged himself somehow."

"He didn't use a door," Rivenbark stated firmly. "There's no door here. I'd stake my reputation on it."

Caitlin looked at him but decided not to say anything. It would have been too easy.

Mal nodded. "Then it must have been one of the other three. If he had turned invisible, then I'd think he would have attacked us again already. He hasn't, so I think we can rule that one out."

"The same goes for camouflage, then," Caitlin said. "He could still have attacked us."

"Unless he's unconscious," Rivenbark put in. He grinned at Caitlin. "Our Kate seems to have learned a few things from the dwarves."

"All right," Mal said, "That leaves passing into the stone, somehow."

"Can you do that?" Rivenbark asked.

"What?"

"Pass into solid stone?"

"I don't know," Mal admitted. "I haven't studied enough magic to know."

They both looked at Caitlin. "Don't look at me," she said. "What little I did know, I've forgotten, and what I haven't forgotten is probably wrong."

"Is there any way to find out?" Mal asked.

"We could go back to Fang Mountain," Rivenbark suggested. "Someone there would probably know."

"No," Caitlin said quickly.

"Why not?"

"We're doing this to prove ourselves, right? Well, what does it prove if we run for help every time we have a problem?"

"Well..." Rivenbark began, but she didn't give him a chance to finish.

"And what do you expect the dwarves to do, anyway? Hold our hands until we get to where ever we eventually end up going?"

Rivenbark scratched at his moustache. It still wasn't coming in very well. Perseverance is everything. "Well..."

"Well?"

"Well, I guess we'd better get moving then. We still have a long way to go."

As they continued down the path, they couldn't help glancing back at the stone, but there was no sign of their attacker. Whoever he was, he had vanished completely.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Shortly before darkness fell, Caitlin dropped her pack on the ground and sank down next to it. The ground made a wet squelching sound beneath her, but at least no more rain was coming down.

"How far do you think we have to go?" she asked with a groan.

"I don't know," Mal replied, sitting down not far away. "According to the map, all we have to do is head due west, and we'll eventually reach the cleft, but there isn't a scale for distance on it."

"What a useful map."

"Oh, am I ever tired," Rivenbark said. "I feel like I've been walking all day."

"You have been," Caitlin told him.

"That would explain it," he said with a grin. "Who wants to see if they can find some dry wood for a fire?"

Caitlin climbed slowly to her feet. "I'll go," she said.

Mal reached out and took her by the wrist. "No."

Caitlin looked at him, puzzled. "Why not?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for us to separate while whoever that was is still out there."

Caitlin sat back down, thoughts of their morning visitor running through her mind. "I don't know," she said casually. "I took care of him pretty easily."

Mal nodded. "You did. But you surprised him. He'll be ready for you the next time."

"Do you think there'll be a next time?"

"I do."

"Who do you think he is?" Rivenbark asked.

"I've been thinking about that," Mal said. "He didn't strike me as a common thief. I mean, I don't think that's quite how a thief would have gone about it."

Rivenbark looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well, was that how you would have handled it?" Mal asked.

"I'm not a thief," Rivenbark said firmly.

Mal shook his head. "Didn't anything he did strike you as odd?"

"Yes," Caitlin said drily. "I thought it was kind of odd the way he appeared and disappeared out of solid rock."

With a sigh, Mal said, "That isn't what I meant. When he grabbed you, he put his hand over your mouth."

Caitlin shrugged. "He didn't want me to yell."

"Why not? We already knew he was there. He spoke to us, remember?"

"Maybe," Rivenbark suggested, "He was afraid a yell would bring help from somewhere."

"You or I could have yelled our heads off," Mal pointed out.

"Well, what then?" Caitlin asked.

"I think that he wanted to stop you from casting any spells."

Caitlin frowned. "But I don't know any spells," she protested.

Mal nodded. "But if he knew that you were a magic student, he'd have to worry that you might."

Caitlin closed her eyes and groaned. "You're right," she said. "That makes sense."

"Someone hired by the school?" Rivenbark asked.

"Or a bounty hunter, if they put out a reward," Mal said.

"And he's good," Caitlin added.

Rivenbark made a disgusted noise. "How can you say that? Look how easily we sent him packing!"

"Look how easily he found us after we'd been totally out of sight for a couple of months," Caitlin pointed out.

"Ah."

"Mal's right. We shouldn't separate. We don't want to have to face him one at a time."

"And I don't think we should make a fire, either," Mal added. "There's no sense in making it easier for him to find us."

"Not that he had much trouble, anyway," Caitlin said.

"But it's practically the middle of winter!" Rivenbark protested.

"The clothes the dwarves made for us will keep us warm," Mal said. "Dwarves are very good at the sort of thing."

"And we'd better start setting watches during the night," Caitlin said.

"Oh!" Mal said, a startled look on his face.

"What is it?"

"It's time."

Caitlin frowned. "Time for what?"

"Time to open Mika's gift," Mal said, reaching into his pack.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mika gave me a package before we left and told me that I would know when to open it. All of a sudden, I do."

He found that parcel and opened it quickly. Inside it was a thick book bound in red leather. He examined it carefully in the fading light. The outside of the cover was unmarked, but there was dwarven writing on the inside. Mal read it aloud, translating for Caitlin and Rivenbark.

"My dear grandson. Keep this book and use it well. Though the pages seem empty now, they will fill as your are ready for them to be filled. Take care of yourself and don't embarrass the family name. Mika."

Mal flipped through the pages. They were all blank. Then, as he watched, writing started to appear, letter by letter on the first page. It was in Mika's hand, and the letters were clearly visible despite the growing darkness. They seemed to glow with a light of their own.

"What is it?" Caitlin asked.

Mal watched the words appear for a few moments and then looked up at her, grinning. "Knowledge," he said. "Techniques. Spells. A way for me to continue studying on my own!"

"That's great, Mal," Rivenbark said with a yawn. "So, what about a cold supper and then some sleep?" he asked. "I could use the rest."

"Fine with me," Caitlin said. "We still have to set up a watch schedule."

"I'll go first," Mal said. "I don't think I could get to sleep yet, anyway." He stared at the book, wondering what it would eventually contain and eager to study the first page, which had so suddenly filled itself with words.

Rivenbark began to dig through his pack. The dwarves had given him something as well. Several pouches of dwarven spices. Maybe he could do something that would liven up even a cold meal.

TWENTY-NINE

Mal's watched passed quickly. He divided his attention between the book and the path, but he saw no sign of their pursuer. When it was finally time to wake Caitlin and turn in, he fell asleep quickly. The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and they were up and on their way again all too soon.

The day was cold but dry. The ground underfoot still squelched with every step, but no new rain fell to add to the dampness. As they walked, Mal continued to study the book that Mika had given him. Caitlin was occupied with her own thoughts, and Rivenbark was examining the map.

"What do you suppose this squiggle means?" he asked, peering at what appeared to be a dwarven rune next to an irregularly shaped figure.

Caitlin peered over his shoulder. "I don't know," she said. "This is the most idiotic map I've ever seen. I don't understand half of the marks on it."

"Mal?" Rivenbark asked, holding up the map.

Mal was staring at Mika's book. "Well, of course I can!" Mal said suddenly.

"Can what?" Rivenbark asked. Caitlin took the map from him and continued to study one odd squiggle among many.

"Well, among other things, Mika had me work on the deflection spell until I was sick of it.. She said that it was one of the simplest. Now she tells me..." he gestured with the book, "...that I probably don't remember how to cast it properly!"

"I don't see any pine cones around," Rivenbark said with a grin.

Mal glanced sideways at him. "Throw a rock, then," he said.

Rivenbark blinked at him in silence for a moment and then asked, "Are you sure?"

Mal nodded. "Yes." He closed the book and stuck it back in his pack. He stopped walking and braced himself.

Rivenbark shrugged and picked up a small stone. Mal shook his head. "Bigger," he said.

Rivenbark shrugged again and picked up a bigger stone. He raised it questioningly and Mal nodded.

"Go ahead."

Rivenbark tossed the stone gently. It described a gentle arc and fell to the ground about six feet in front of Mal. "I think you're going to have to throw it a little harder than that," he said.

Rivenbark picked up a second stone and cocked his arm back. Then he paused. "Are you sure about this?"

Mal nodded. "Absolutely," he said. "Now throw it!"

"Okay." Rivenbark threw the stone.

Caitlin, still absorbed in the map, hadn't noticed that Mal and Rivenbark had stopped walking. She was several dozen yards away from them when a yell made her look up. She looked quickly from side to side and then ran back to find Mal holding one hand to his head.

"What happened?" she asked anxiously. "Are you alright?"

Mal took his hand away to reveal a patch of blood. "Fine," he said.

"What happened?"

"Never mind," Mal told her. "Did you have a question about the map?"

"Uh...yes." She held it out to him. "Do you know what this mark means?"

Mal took the map and looked at it. "Darkness," he said.

Caitlin frowned. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that," she said. Tapping a finger on the map, she added, "Whatever this place is, it's right on our way."

Mal dabbed at his head with a piece of cloth and then took Mika's book out of his pack again. "I wouldn't worry about it," he said.

"Yeah, Kate," Rivenbark said brightly. "After all, thing are going our way nicely! What could possibly go wrong?"

"I hate it when you say that, Rivenbark."

Mal found his place and continued reading.

"My dear grandson. If you followed the instructions on the previous page of this book, you have practiced the deflection spell which you cast successfully so many times while you were with me. I hope that the injury you sustained is not too severe."

Mal grunted once, and Caitlin asked, "Yes?"

Mal shook his head. "Never mind," he said. He continued reading.

"One of the skills you must successfully master is the use of energy. After a time, you were able to use the energy of Fang Mountain quite well, but the energy of each place is different, so you must tap into it differently. That was why the spell you attempted did not work.

"Further more, you must work hard to master the skill of setting up a spell so that a single trigger phrase or gesture will initiate it. The deflection spell will be of little use to you otherwise. Few attackers are so considerate as to you let you know that they are about to attempt to kill you, thus giving you time to prepare a spell. You did not master this skill while you were with me, so you must master it on your own. Practice the exercises that I gave you."

Mal groaned. Those exercises never failed to leave him with a splitting headache.

"I would rather have a grandson with a headache than a grandson who is dead. Now, get to work!"

Mal closed the book and sighed. A complete visualization of the energy patterns and the selection of a single line for minor amplification. It sounded simple enough, but, in practice, it turned out to be fiendishly difficult. It required a touch more delicate than any he had demonstrated previously and frustrated him immensely.

He had been at work for some time and was finally beginning to catch glimpses of the local energy patterns when Rivenbark, keeping a cautious eye on Caitlin, sidled up next to him.

"How's your head?" he asked in a whisper.

Caitlin was several feet ahead, still studying the map.

"Fine," Mal said, rubbing his temples.

"I'm really sorry," Rivenbark said, but Mal shook his head.

"It wasn't your fault," he said. "Just my grandmother making a point in her own special way."

Rivenbark rubbed his hands together, wincing in remembered pain. "Yeah, I remember how dwarves do things," he said. "Oh, well. Hey, Kate! It's my turn to study the map!" With a jog, he caught up with Caitlin and took the map from her. He had really enjoyed the cartography courses he had taken, even though he'd never gotten very good at any of the skills they had tried to teach him.

Caitlin drifted back to walk beside Mal. They walked in silence for awhile, Caitlin apparently lost in thought and Mal continuing to practice his exercises. Ahead of them, Rivenbark continued to examine the map.

"Mal?" Caitlin said suddenly.

Mal let his attention come back to the world around him and looked at her.

"Do you really think that bounty hunter, or whoever he is, will come back?" she asked.

Slowly, Mal nodded. "Yes, I do."

Without realizing it, the two of them stopped walking.

"Do you think we'll be ready for him?"

Mal frowned. "I don't know," he said.

"I'm pretty good now." Caitlin's voice was a mixture of uncertainty and pride.

"Yes. Better than I ever was. You were better than he expected you to be, but you won't catch him off guard like that again.

Caitlin nodded. "We'll have to be ready."

"Yeah."

Ahead of them, the path curved out of sight, and Rivenbark had already passed beyond the curve.

"Come on," Caitlin said. "We're falling behind."

They hurried around the curve, but there was no sign of Rivenbark. They stopped and looked around. There were plenty of places he could be hiding - behind boulders and in crevices. Ahead of them, the path curved again.

"He couldn't have gotten that far, could he?" Caitlin asked, looking at the distant curve.

Mal shook his head. "I wouldn't have thought so."

"Rivenbark!" Caitlin called, then she looked at Mal. "You don't suppose he'd be hiding, do you? Playing a joke?"

Mal shook his head again. "That doesn't sound like something he'd do..." he said uneasily. "Maybe if he saw something that interested him..."

Caitlin began walking toward the curve, peering behind the irregularly spaced boulders as she did so.

She never did know what alerted her. Perhaps some small sound of movement, maybe a breath of wind or a flicker of shadow. What ever it was, she turned and moved back at the same instant, and the dagger hilt that would have knocked her unconscious missed her completely.

The man's movements were fluid and graceful. He seemed to have flowed upward out of a boulder near her, his cloak billowing around him, a dagger in one hand and a metal gauntlet on the other. He was tall and lean, and his face showed the wear of the seasons - too much time dealing with the sun, the wind, rain and snow.

Seeing that he had missed Caitlin, and that she was a little off balance from dodging his blow, the man glanced at Mal.

Mal had frozen for a split second when the man had appeared, and then he launched himself forward. He felt a shock somewhere deep in his mind and, even as his body moved rapidly, his mind seemed to slow down, in possession of infinite time for thought and action.

The stranger was between Mal and Caitlin, several feet away from Mal. He watched Mal start his rush, saw that Mal was seemingly out of control, his mouth working randomly as he threw his body forward. The man spun lightly on his feet as he observed all of this, his arm already swinging. The blade of his dagger caught Mal squarely in the face with a sound that Caitlin knew she would remember for the rest of her life. The impact of the blow drove Mal's head back, and he jack-knifed over a boulder, his hands clutching both the dagger and his face as he slammed backward into the ground out of sight.

The stranger turned back to Caitlin too late. She flew at him in a controlled rage. Fear and fury mingled gave her a power that surprised him, but her every move was planned and executed carefully and rapidly.

Mal, his eyes closed, gasping for breath, heard the blows and wondered idly what they were and why he was still able to hear them. He remembered the horrendous impact of the knife, but almost as if it were something that had happened to someone else -- something he'd seen rather than experienced. His head seemed to be spinning, and he was dimly aware that he was in pain. His arms were at his sides. He moved them carefully, a little surprised to find that they still worked and that they were under his control. Carefully, slowly, he opened his eyes. He could see the dagger, bisecting his field of view. Very gingerly, he reached up a hand and touched it. It didn't seem to hurt him. This puzzled him. Then he realized that the dagger wasn't touching him. It hadn't penetrated his flesh. It was frozen, a hair's breadth from the skin of his face, hanging there, motionless.

He blinked rapidly several times and then made a gasping sound that was halfway between a laugh and a cry. This wasn't exactly how the deflection spell was supposed to work, but he wasn't going to complain. He pulled the dagger away from his face and looked at it. It was heavy, with a slightly curved blade. The hilt looked worn and well used, but the blade was sharp and clean.

He tossed the dagger to one side and, lying there, staring up at the sun, he examined the rest of his body. The back of his head was sore. His neck was a little sore. His back hurt. But he was alive, and it didn't feel like anything was broken. He remembered the odd sensation of his mind seemingly acting on its own and realized that he had cast the deflection spell even as he had launched himself forward.

The sounds of combat gradually penetrated his consciousness.

Caitlin!

Carefully, gingerly, as if it weren't something that he was used to doing, Mal sat up. He looked over the top of the boulder. Caitlin and the bounty hunter were fighting hand to hand. She was doing well, but she was clearly outclassed. Blood was running from her nose, and her lower lip looked puffy. There was a rapidly darkening bruise on one cheek, and she was moving a little slowly.

As Mal watched, she stumbled and sank to one knee. The bounty hunter moved in rapidly, and Caitlin suddenly pivoted on her knee and kicked him squarely in the elbow. There was a cracking sound, and the bounty hunter backed rapidly away, his right arm dangling at his side.

The respite gave Caitlin a chance to regain her feet and catch her breath, but it also gave the bounty hunter time to pull a long-bladed knife with his left hand.

Mal closed his eyes, calmed his mind and focused. He could see the lines of energy that radiated through the area. He reached out and touched one. His movements were slow and uncoordinated, but he did it. He twisted the energy line slightly and opened his eyes. Absolutely nothing happened.

Mal started to close his eyes again, but then he shook his head and reached down. His hand fell on a rock. He scooped it up and threw it as hard as he could.

The bounty hunter had crouched and was advancing on Caitlin, when the rock struck the side of his head. He staggered, and, without hesitation, Caitlin darted forward. Mal couldn't see what she did, but he could see the effect. The bounty hunter grunted in pain, dropped the knife, bent double and then collapsed.

With a cry, Caitlin leaped over the prone form and ran to the boulder Mal had fallen over. When she saw him sitting there, smiling crookedly at her, she smiled back. Sweat and blood streaked her face and she was panting. Mal thought she was beautiful.

She fell on him and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Nice throw," she said, half crying, half laughing.

"Yeah," Mal said, cradling her in his arms. "It's amazing what you can do with magic.."

THIRTY

A few moments later, Rivenbark sat up, trying to rub his wrists and his head at the same time, looking with dour satisfaction at the man lying trussed up on the ground in front of him.

"What happened?" Caitlin asked him.

Rivenbark touched a large lump on his head and winced. "I was walking along, studying the map, and all of a sudden nothing. Ow." He looked up at Caitlin and Mal. "I'd say that you had a rougher time of it, though."

Caitlin's mouth was tender, and she could feel one eye swelling closed, but she grinned. "We won," she said. "And we're all alive. That's all that matters."

"And we have an important question to ask," Mal said.

"What?"

"What are we going to do with him now?"

They all looked at the prone form, stirring now. His hands were tied behind his back with the rope he had used to tie Rivenbark up after knocking him out. This man took no chances. Neither did Caitlin. She had searched the man with an embarrassing degree of thoroughness and removed a surprising array of weapons from his clothing. She had also trussed him up thoroughly, not worrying about hurting his broken elbow.

He regained consciousness quickly, tried his bonds, winced in pain but didn't cry aloud, and looked calmly at the three people gathered around him.

"Who are you?" Caitlin asked.

"My name is Linn dunCraggon," he said. His voice was steady and his eyes were clear, despite the fact that he had to be in considerable pain. This, thought Caitlin, is a very dangerous man.

"Why were you following us?"

His thin smile had no humor in it. "Surely you know that. The sword."

"You're a bounty hunter?"

"I would have thought that was obvious."

Here Rivenbark interjected a question. "Did you have to tie my wrists so tightly? It hurt!"

"Be glad that one of your arms wasn't broken," the bounty hunter replied grimly. "It would have hurt worse." He looked carefully from Caitlin to Mal. "The information they gave me was wrong." A trace of anger showed in his eyes. "You were supposed to be the magic student and he was supposed to be the fighter. My whole plan of attack was based on that. You never would have beaten me otherwise."

"How did you do the rock thing?" Rivenbark asked, still sitting on the ground. "That was really

great!"

Caitlin frowned at Rivenbark. This was altogether too chatty for her tastes.

"My cloak," the man said. "It helps me blend in." He looked at Caitlin again. "I figured you just got lucky the first time, when you knocked me out. I should have realized."

"How did you find us?" Caitlin asked, trying to take charge of the interrogation again.

"I'm very good at my job."

"Good enough to kill," Mal said.

The bounty hunter shook his head. "You rushed me," he said. "I have no interest in killing you." He shifted his position and bit back a groan. "At least, I didn't."

"Wouldn't it be easier to take us back is we were dead?" Caitlin asked.

"Not really. Alive, you could walk. Besides, I'm in this for profit, not ease of work."

Rivenbark nodded. "And they'll only reward you if we're brought back alive," he said.

"No." The bounty hunter was matter of fact about it. "But they'll pay more if you're alive."

"I don't know whether I like the sound of that or not," Caitlin said.

"I don't make the rules, I just play by them."

There was a moment of silence, and then dunCraggon asked, "So, what are you going to do with me?"

Mal looked at Caitlin. She looked steadily back at him for a moment and then shook her head and sighed. "I have absolutely no idea," she said.

"We will take," a deep voice said suddenly.

Everyone looked surprised as three dwarves suddenly stepped into view.

"Wh wh uh...where did you come from?" Rivenbark asked.

"Mika said follow," one of the dwarves told him. " So we follow. Said bounty hunter was on trail."

"You could have helped us out, then!" Caitlin snapped.

The dwarf shook his head. "Not could," he told her. "Mika said it is not to help. If humans not can survive on own, then not should survive. But dwarfs can take bounty hunter for long visit under mountain, give humans time to finish job."

Caitlin switched her glare from the dwarves to Mal. "Did you know about this?"

"No. But it sounds like something Mika would do."

"She could at least have told us about the bounty hunter."

Mal nodded. "She could have," he agreed. He shrugged. "But she chose not to." He smiled ruefully. "She likes to test me, I'm afraid. She wants to make sure I won't embarrass her."

"Is way of females," one of the dwarves agreed.

"Must head back soon," a second dwarf said.

"But first," added the third. "How about good hot meal?"

"Great!" Rivenbark said, bouncing to his feet. "I'll cook!"

Caitlin groaned. "Maybe we should have let the bounty hunter win...."

THIRTY-ONE

"That," said Rivenbark with admiration, "is the loudest belch I've ever heard! Can you teach me how to do that?"

"Better echoes under mountain," the dwarf who had belched so resoundingly said.

"Rivenbark!" Caitlin said, appalled and amused at the same time.

"Good food!" added another of the dwarves.

"Thank you," Rivenbark replied. "Not everyone has your fine sensibilities, I might add." He gave Caitlin a sidelong glance.

"Excuse me."

Everyone looked at Linn dunCraggon, still trussed up on the ground nearby The pain had been clear in his voice.

"Yes?" Caitlin asked abruptly.

"I...uh..." He seemed oddly hesitant. "I just wondered if I could see the sword. I came so close to recovering it. I'd hate to have come all this way and not even catch a glimpse of it."

"No," one of the dwarves said immediately.

"Well, now," Rivenbark said, "There's no reason why we have to be poor winners, is there?" The unaccustomed compliment to his cooking had put him in an expansive mood.

"No," the dwarf said again.

"Why not?" Rivenbark asked. "What could it hurt?"

The dwarf shook his head. "Dak not know," he said. "But am certain it not could hurt for him

not to see sword. True?"

Rivenbark took a moment to work that one out in his mind, and then he said, "Um. Yes. I think..."

The bounty hunter shook his head. "Dwarves never did know how to treat their prisoners with fairness."

"Fairness!" Caitlin yelled. "This from a man who appears out of rocks to attack--"

"Not is question of fairness," Dak said. "Dwarfs will see that human gets food and drink. Will see that human does not die of exposure. Will not torture human. What more does want?"

The bounty hunter gestured at Caitlin with his chin. "She cracked my elbow," he said. "Being tied up like this hurts." He shifted his body and his face tightened. "Very much."

Rivenbark looked at the man. He was sweating, and his face was twisted with pain. "And my hands...the ropes are so tight that I'm not getting enough circulation."

Rivenbark leaped to his feet, chagrin clear on his face. "I'm sorry!" he said. "Let me untie your wrists!"

"Rivenbark!" Caitlin snapped.

"Oh, come on, Kate! We can be gracious in victory, right? He's outnumbered six to one! We're not barbarians here!"

"Dak will do," Dak said, climbing to his feet. "Human is prisoner of dwarfs now."

Rivenbark nodded. "That seems fair," he said.

"Mal!" Caitlin said in protest.

Mal held up a hand in a 'wait and see' gesture and watched as Dak walked over to his supine prisoner with Rivenbark close behind him.

The bounty hunter was lying on his stomach with his hands still tied tightly behind his back and his ankles lashed together. That had been Caitlin's doing. Before sitting down to lunch, Dak had used a short length of rope to tie the bounty hunter's ankles to his wrists and had taken his cloak from him.

"Which elbow?" Dak asked, looking at the man critically.

"The left..."

Dak nodded, knelt down beside the prisoner, pulled out a small axe and sliced away the left sleeve of the bounty hunter's tunic.

"What are you doing?" dunCraggon asked, craning his neck to see.

"Looking," Dak said. The elbow was badly discolored and swollen. "Looks bad," he said.

"Be glad you don't know what it feels like," dunCraggon said.

"Bad but not fatal." Dak nodded to himself and then looked up at his companions. "Ready to go home?" he asked.

"Are," they told him.

"Dak, too." He looked over at the humans. "Dwarfs will go now."

Rivenbark gestured at dunCraggon. "How are you going to...uh..."

"Simple."

Dak nodded at one of his companions who walked over and held the edge of an axe against the

back of the bounty hunter's neck. He pressed hard enough to draw blood. "It is not to move," he said. dunCraggon didn't make a sound.

Dak then cut the rope that had bound the man's ankles to his wrist and untied his ankles. Then he pulled a chain and shackles out of a large pouch at his waist and fitted them around the human's ankles. The chain was no more than a foot long. He then sliced the rope that bound the man's wrists and replaced it with manacles.

"It is to stand," he ordered.

With a sigh, the bounty hunter rose to his knees and then managed to make it to his feet.

"This is going to be a long trip," he said.

"Is," Dak agreed. "But will be considerably shorter if human tries to escape. No second chances. Understood?"

"Yeah. How long do you intend to keep me prisoner?"

Dak looked at Mal. "How long?" he asked.

Mal considered. "To be safe," he said, "At least a couple of months, I'd say. Check with Mika to be sure."

The bounty hunter sighed again.

"Done," Dak said. He nodded to his companions, and, with cries of farewell, they set off down the trail, back toward Fang Mountain.

"This is great!" Rivenbark said. "Isn't this great?"

Caitlin looked at him.

"No more bounty hunter to deal with! Nothing can stop us now! Things are really--"

"Going our way!" Caitlin and Mal finished for him.

"I'm glad," Rivenbark told them, "That you two are finally starting to see things in the right light! Do you know what I'd like to do now?"

"Pack up and hit the trail," Caitlin said.

"Nope."

"Then what?"

"Get a full night's sleep again! How about if we just stay here for the rest of the day and start fresh tomorrow?"

"Rivenbark," Caitlin said, "You are full of surprises, do you know that?"

"Well," Rivenbark replied, "At least things aren't dull when I'm around!"

"That," Caitlin told him, "you don't need to say twice!"

THIRTY-TWO

Days turned into weeks. Caitlin spent untold hours studying the map, but she was no closer to

understanding it.

"When you were copying this map, why didn't you copy a key for it as well?" she finally asked, glaring in turn at both Mal and the piece of parchment in her hand.

"There wasn't one."

"Oh."

"Do you suppose," Rivenbark asked, "That we're anywhere near here yet?" He laid his finger on the squiggle that Mal had said meant 'darkness.'

"I have a feeling," Caitlin told him, "That we'll know when we get there."

"How?"

At that moment, the ground fell from beneath their feet. With terrifying suddenness, they went from walking to tumbling down a dark shaft that slanted and turned. They bounced off of the walls of the shaft, slamming into dirt and stone, finally coming to a breathless and bone jarring halt on a stone floor in pitch darkness.

Caitlin was bruised and shaken, and the breath had been knocked out of her when she had hit the floor. She lay there, clinging to the ground. The struggle for breath made her temporarily unaware of the bruises she had sustained in the fall.

Rivenbark was beside her, motionless. His head was swimming, his left ankle was burning, and he thought that he had gone blind. He could hear Caitlin gasping for air, so he knew at least that he hadn't gone deaf.

Mal was nearby, lying on his back, stunned, vaguely aware that something was wrong, but unable to gather his thoughts together and figure out what it was.

Rivenbark, concentrating on the sounds around him, was the first one to realize that they weren't alone. He could hear the soft whispering sounds of movement in the darkness around him. He rolled over onto his back, fumbling at one of his belt pouches, wishing that he'd thought to do this earlier.

A moment later, the quiet noises grew louder and then the chamber was flooded with light. While the three friends blinked repeatedly, blinded by the sudden illumination, hands plucked at their clothing and gear, stripping them of packs, pouches, belts, weapons and possessions. All of this was done in almost total silence before the three friends had recovered enough from the fall to offer any resistance at all.

When Mal could finally see again, he discovered that they were surrounded by a group of roughly humanoid figures, skin as black as the darkness. Their eyes were large and seemed faintly luminous, though they had been invisible in the darkness. The creatures were around four feet tall, slender and armed with swords that had long curved blades.

One of them cocked his head at the trio and then said, very slowly, as if the word were unfamiliar to him, "Humans." He nodded at one of his companions, and she stepped forward, cleared her throat, and said, "You. Comb."

Caitlin frowned at Mal while Rivenbark, very hesitantly raised a hand to his head and patted his hair. He knew that he wasn't looking his best at that moment, but, really, to have a total stranger criticize his hair on the first meeting was a bit much.

The speaker looked at the humans, saw how puzzled they were, and tried again.

"You...welcome," she said.

All three of them relaxed slightly, and Rivenbark smiled. "Well, that's wonderful!" he said. "We're glad to hear it! Let me tell you, when we fell down here, I thought--"

The speaker shook her head, clicked her tongue several times and tried again, speaking even more slowly and distinctly. "You...welcome....ord-eye."

Caitlin frowned at Mal again, but Rivenbark said, "Oh!" He shook his head. "You don't have that right," he said. "What you want to say is 'you will come or die.'"

She looked at him. "You...will...come...or...die?"

He nodded encouragingly.. "That's it. It's all a matter of accent, see? Try it again."

"You will come...or die."

Rivenbark nodded vigorously, and she looked happy. "You've got it!" he said.

She nodded her thanks and said it again. "You will come or die!"

As the figures around her spread out toward the humans, weapons drawn, Rivenbark said, "Oh."

"Nice going, Rivenbark," Caitlin told him grimly.

"Well, you know me. I like to be helpful."

"Maybe," Caitlin suggested, "You could try helping us for a change."

"I'll do my best!"

"That's what scares me."

Their captors kept them surrounded, giving them no chance to break away

Not that there would be anywhere to go even if they could escape, Caitlin thought sourly. The tunnel was straight, unbroken by side tunnels. It led back to where they had been captured, who knew how many feet below the surface. Could they possibly climb back up the shaft they had fallen down? She didn't know. It didn't matter anyway. They'd have to get the sword back before they could leave.

Ahead of them, the tunnel stretched ahead into darkness. Two members of the group had small lanterns that were still lit. All other light sources had been extinguished. As she peered into the darkness ahead, Caitlin found herself listening to the small sounds they made while walking, each of them magnified by the tunnel walls, and then she realized that there was too much noise. Some of the sounds were coming from somewhere ahead of them: strange clanking sounds, like metal hitting metal or some other hard substance.

When they finally rounded a corner and found themselves in a huge dimly lit cavern, only Mal was not surprised at what they saw. He'd recognized the sounds of mining long before he'd seen the prisoners, chained in place, digging at the walls of the cavern with pickaxes and chisels, and he knew who their captors were.

The cavern was irregularly shaped and filled with piles of rubble. Here and there, small lanterns provided pale pockets of light where small groups of prisoners worked the stone, with most of the cavern buried in darkness. Guards, some armed with swords, some with spears and some with whips, prowled the cavern, suddenly materializing out of the darkness to punish a prisoner who wasn't working hard enough.

Looking at the few work parties that were close enough for him to make out, Mal realized that no two members of the same race were in the same group. As he wondered at that, he felt the point of a spear jab him in the back.

"You! Here."

They had stopped next to a solitary shackled dwarf. Mal allowed himself to be moved forward and watched helplessly as shackles were fitted around his ankles. The two circles of metal were joined by a chain no more than a foot and a half long. Another chain ran from one of the shackles through a ring which had been driven into the stone floor of the cavern and from there to the shackles on the ankles of the dwarf.

"You, work!"

Caitlin and Rivenbark were led away, Caitlin and Mal exchanging an agonized glance before the small group was swallowed by the darkness.

"Work!"

Mal looked around and spotted a pickaxe nearby. He picked it up. "What am I supposed to be doing?" he asked.

The guard grimaced and pointed to Mal's fellow prisoner and then walked off.

Nearby, Mal could see a work party consisting of an elf and a man of mixed human and elvish ancestry. They were of different blood families and wouldn't even look at each other. Mal could see that they were pale and worn. Neither of them had any experience with this kind of manual labor, and neither of them was used to being underground. Mal's new companion, on the other hand, was in his element, and, while not exactly thriving, was obviously not suffering as much as some of the other prisoners were.

He looked at Mal and then, unexpectedly, grinned. "Karg Dropdelver," he said. He managed to keep his voice surprisingly quiet for a dwarf.

"Mal Stoneshifter," Mal replied.

Karg nodded. "Dekhai," he said. He continued to speak in dwarvish. "Glad to have other dwarf here."

Mal looked around the cavern, but he couldn't make out any of the guards. "Those are shadow gnomes, aren't they?" he asked.

"Are," Karg confirmed.

"I thought they were just a legend!"

"Not are," Karg said. "Karg knows. Has been here for very long time."

"How long."

The dwarf shrugged. "What is date?"

Mal told him, using the dwarvish calender.

Karg looked thoughtful. "One year, six months, three weeks, four days. Is too long."

Mal nodded. "I know what you mean. I've already been here too long," he said.

The dwarf nodded. "Karg and Mal will leave together. Is only matter of time."

"I hope so."

"Guards will be back soon. Need show Mal how to work or both will be punished. Have quota to fill."

Mal nodded again. "Let's get to it, then," he said.

The work, not surprisingly, turned out to be mining. Karg showed him the small yellow stones they were looking for, showed him how to use the hammer and chisel to remove the delicate gems from the surrounding stone and helped him learn how best to do the tiring work.

As he worked, Mal's thoughts kept returning to Rivenbark and Caitlin. Where were they? How were they? Would he ever see either of them again?

THIRTY-FIVE

"I really hate this!" Rivenbark said. He'd been doing the work for under an hour, and it was at

least the twentieth time he'd made that statement.

Beneath him, Caitlin nodded. "We're going to get out of here," she said quietly. It was at least the twentieth time she'd made that response.

Rivenbark looked down at the top of her head. "When?"

"As soon as we can."

Rivenbark nodded and continued climbing the unstable ladder that Caitlin was holding in place. Above him was a wooden sluice, and he could hear the rumbling sound that came from it the whole time he and Caitlin were locked in the chamber with it.

The sluice came from the ceiling some fifty feet overhead near one corner of the chamber and traveled the entire distance of the chamber before vanishing through an opening in the floor just large enough to accommodate it.

As he reached the sluice and looked into it, Rivenbark sighed. It contained a thick viscous mud that seemed to cling to skin and clothing and hair alike. The stuff seemed so thick that he wondered how it could flow down the sluice at all.

At intervals, the sluice had metal gratings in it that filtered the muck, and they clogged up fairly regularly. He and Caitlin had the job of clearing the gratings each time they clogged. As the sluice was several feet deep, this was, at best, an unpleasant job.

With another sigh, Rivenbark plunged his arms into the mud and dragged his hands along the grating, scraping out the detritus that had been unable to make it through. Each grating had openings slightly smaller than those of the grating that preceded it, and at least one of them seemed to be clogged at any given moment. There were ten gratings in the portion of the sluice that they were responsible for, and that kept them continually busy.

As he dropped the collection of garbage down toward the cart at the base of the ladder, Rivenbark found himself wondering again about the mud: what it was used for, where it came from, how long the sluice was and where it funneled the stuff in the end.

He had considered the idea of escaping by going down the sluice, but there were a few problems with that plan that he hadn't worked out yet. There were gratings at the openings that allowed the sluice to enter and exit the chamber as well as throughout the chamber. Presumably, each chamber the sluice passed through would be locked, as was the one he and Caitlin were led to each day, and escaping from one locked chamber to another, while it might break the monotony a bit, wouldn't actually get them any closer to freedom. There was also the fact that the sluice was filled with mud which would undoubtedly suffocate anyone sliding along in it. But, as soon as these trifling problems were overcome, Rivenbark was confident that he and Caitlin would find Mal, recover the sword and be on their way once again.

"Are you done up there?" Caitlin called.

"Just about."

"Good, because it looks like there's another clog a little lower down."

Rivenbark looked down the sluice and nodded. Tomorrow it would be Caitlin's turn to climb the ladder, and he'd be grateful. As it was, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get the stains out of his tunic. Just once, it would be nice to be captured by someone neat.

THIRTY-SIX

The end of Mal's workshift found him tired and stiff. The chain that ran from his shackles, through the ring, to Karg's shackles was unlocked and left lying in the cavern floor, still running through the ring so that the next workparty could use it.. The tools were carefully counted and checked, and Mal and the others were led down a dimly lit hall and into a large chamber filled with crudely made tables and benches. The short chain which still joined Mal's shackles to each other made him walk with an ungainly hobble. A thoroughly unappetizing smell filled the air. Perhaps a hundred dispirited prisoners sat at the tables rapidly shoveling the contents of wooden bowls into their mouths. Several armed guards wandered between the tables, eyeing the diners warily.

Mal scanned the faces eagerly, but neither Caitlin nor Rivenbark was there. Sighing, he followed the others to a counter where he picked up a wooden spoon and a bowl. Some kind of watery porridge was dumped into the bowl, and Mal found himself sitting at one of the benches next to Karg.

"Eat," Karg told him. "Only get few minutes."

Mal nodded. If nothing else, he was hungry after the work he had done, and the unappetizing glop was at least filling. He bowl was nearly empty when a cry made him look up. A group of prisoners was being led away from the table, and one of them was down on his knees holding his head. Blood welled out between his fingers. One of the guards was searching him and finally turned up the man's spoon which had been hidden in his clothing.

"Eat," Karg said, nudging Mal.

Mal looked down at his bowl and finished his meal.

It was barely a moment later when everyone at Mal's table was ordered to stand. The bowls and spoons were recovered and counted and the group was led out of the dining hall and down yet another stone corridor.

After several turns that left Mal thoroughly lost, they came to a corridor lined with heavy metal doors. Each door, when opened, revealed a very small chamber. Two prisoners came out of each room and were replaced by two from the group in the corridor. A few minutes later, Mal found himself shut up in a small cell with Karg in pitch blackness.

"Find wall and sit," Karg suggested. "Toilet is hole in corner."

"I can smell it," Mal said. He found a wall with his hand, felt his way over to a corner and sat down.

"Soon," Karg told him quietly, "Gnomes come with mug of ale for each. It is not to drink ale."

"Why not? I could probably use it right now."

"Is drugged," Karg told him. "Puts prisoners to sleep so not can cause trouble."

Mal sighed. "They're thorough."

"Are," Karg agreed, "But Karg and Mal will escape."

"How?"

"Karg know. Have to find something first, but will find soon. Rock in cavern is right at last."

In due time, a sliding panel in the cell door was opened. In the dim light that streamed in from the corridor, Mal could see that two mugs had been placed just inside the door, then the panel was closed and the cell was in darkness again. Karg picked up the mugs and emptied them into the toilet hole.

"Karg sleep now," the dwarf said. "Mal should sleep too, if can."

Mal nodded, but he'd never felt less like sleep in his life. He didn't know where Caitlin or Rivenbark were, he didn't know how he would find them if he and Karg did escape, and he didn't know how they were going to get out of this place and away from the shadow gnomes, anyway.

With his body braced in the corner, Mal tried to spread his legs, pulling on the chain with every ounce of his strength. After a few moments, he stopped. He was fairly certain that his legs would give before the metal did. He had had a chance to examine it in the dim light of the mining cavern, and the metal had a strange but familiar sheen to it. He rubbed his hands along the chain now and sighed. The metal had peculiar feel to it, almost as if it were wet.

"Is kolgoth," Karg said suddenly, startling Mal.

"Kolgoth?" The name rang a faint and distant bell in his memory.

"Kolgoth. Strongest metal known. Karg not know how shadow gnomes got any and not know how shadow gnomes could work it. Thought only dwarfs knew."

"It must take a great deal to chain everyone here up."

"Not do. Not even dwarfs at Wolfshead Peak have so much. Gnomes only use kolgoth to chain strongest prisoners, like dwarfs."

Mal closed his eyes, his muscles aching, his body weary, and despair threatening to close in around in him in the darkness, but his mind wouldn't leave him alone. It kept spinning from one question to another, working madly but getting no closer to any answers. Then, as clear as the summer sun, he heard his grandmother's voice making his promise to practice his mental exercises every day.

He shook his head. She couldn't possibly have meant under circumstances like these. She couldn't have known what was going to happen to him. The nagging thought came to him that she might very well have known, and when she said every day, she meant every day.

He didn't have the book she had given him, but he knew the exercises by heart. He ought to, as often as he'd done them. With a sigh, he tried to calm his mind and sense the energy flow around him, but his mind refused to cooperate. There were too many other things to occupy it. He was just about to give up, when he suddenly got mad at himself.

Did he want to learn how to use magic or not? And what good did it do anyone for him to wear himself out worrying about things that he couldn't do anything about, anyway? Grimly, he fought his own mind, gradually calming himself and capturing his whirling thoughts, slowing them down, finding his focus. He concentrated on his exercises until he was mentally tired as well as physically, and then, finally, he slept.

He didn't know if it was the result of exercises or the physical labor, but, somehow, he slept well and felt rested when the door of the cell opened some hours later. He climbed to his feet and followed Karg out, watching the pair who had left on his own arrival shuffling back into the tiny chamber.

He eventually found himself back at one of the wooden tables with another bowl of the thin porridge in front of him. The meal was quickly finished, and he was led back to the mining chamber and he and Karg were attached to the same chain once again. Karg nodded to him briefly and went to work on the wall with a hammer and chisel.

The shift dragged on in its weary way, until Mal found himself hobbling back to his sleeping chamber after another meal of watery porridge to find himself in the darkness again. He lost count of the days, each passing with unvarying regularity.

He continued his exercises nightly, even though it took time away from sleep. After three days, he was able to sense the energy flow of the caverns. He could feel the energy flow in the shackles, bright and strong, for all the good it did him. He even knew exactly where the weakest spot in the weakest link was, and it was far too strong for him ever to break it with brute force.

As he probed the spot, he considered trying to break it with a burst of energy, but he remembered what had happened the last time he had tried to direct the energy flow without knowing precisely what he was doing. Just before his heart had so briefly stopped, he had felt a split second of the most agonizing and poignant pain he had ever experienced. He didn't think he could go through that again.

Mika had talked to him about the need to know exactly how to direct the energy flow to accomplish a goal.

"There is no circumstance so dire that it should impel you to take such a risk," she had said.

"What if your life is on the line?" he had asked. "Or the life of a friend? Isn't it worthwhile to risk death to prevent death?"

She had shaken her head slowly. "You are asking the wrong question, child, because you think that death is the worst thing that can happen to you. It is not. There are things that are far worse. If you misdirect the energy flow, aside from killing others inadvertently, you can do such things to yourself that death would be a blessing."

With a sigh, Mal turned his attention away from the chains and began to grope through the nearby tunnels, touching every energy pattern he encountered, working to expand his reach. Eventually, he could count the guards patrolling the corridors, which he could tell were kept in darkness when no prisoners were in them. He could feel a crowd in one chamber, and then his breath caught in his throat and he found himself alert and back in his cell, with the stone cold and rough against his back and his hands shaking uncontrollably. He had touched Caitlin's energy pattern. The shock of it had broken his concentration.

He tried again to reach her, but he couldn't calm the rapid beating of his heart or slow his breathing for what seemed like an interminable time. When he could finally reach out again, she wasn't in the dining hall. Neither was Rivenbark. He kept searching, gently, insistently, and then he found them again, together, somewhere. They were awake, clearly, and moving around in a limited area. The shadow gnomes had let the two of them work together somewhere. He could tell the direction and he could tell the distance. He wished desperately that he could communicate with them somehow, but he didn't know what to do to make that happen. At least he knew that they were alright. It was enough. It would have to be. For now.

THIRTY-SEVEN

"Caitlin?"

Caitlin stirred uneasily. Countless nights spent trying to sleep in that pitch black stone cubicle, and she still hadn't gotten any good at it.

"Kate?"

Caitlin sighed. "Yes, Rivenbark?"

"I think I'm losing my sense of smell."

Caitlin surprised herself by laughing. Rivenbark sounded so mournful! "Excuse me?"

"My sense of smell. I think I'm losing it."

"I think one of us is losing it," Caitlin retorted drily. "Would you mind telling me what you're talking about?"

"Well, I can't smell the mud anymore. I used to be able to smell it all the time."

Caitlin knew exactly what Rivenbark's face would have looked like if she could have seen it. She had seen the comically tragic look often enough. She smiled at the imagined sight. "Do you really want to be able to smell it?"

"Well, no, but I do want to be able to smell stuff when we get out of here."

Caitlin was quiet for a very long time.

"Kate?"

"You've just gotten so used to it that you don't notice it anymore, Rivenbark. Go to sleep."

"Have you thought about what you're going to say?"

"What?"

"To Mal. The next time we see him."

"Rivenbark..."

"You really should tell him, you know."

"Tell him what?"

"Of course, maybe you don't realize it yourself, yet."

"Rivenbark, you're making even less sense than usual!"

Rivenbark smiled in the darkness. "Welcome back," he said.

The exasperation clear in her voice, Caitlin said, "What are you talking about?"

"I was getting worried about you. You haven't snapped at me in days!"

She laughed again.

"Twice in one day!" Rivenbark cheered, "A recent record!" He heard Caitlin moving around their small cell. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Just for being you, Rivenbark."

"Some people give gifts, you know."

She found his hand in the dark and squeezed it. "I've been trying not to think about Mal."

"You have to think about him. Think about him all the time! And when you're not thinking about him, think about what the sun feels like on your face and how flowers smell and how we're going to get that sword reforged! Think about all of it, all the time. Your body's here, Kate, but your brain is where ever you want it to be. And we will get out of here, and we will get that sword fixed."

"And find Mal," Caitlin added.

"And find Mal," Rivenbark agreed. "Unless he finds us first."

"Either way," Caitlin said. "I can't wait."

THIRTY-EIGHT

Mal was getting better at waiting. Life dragged on, day after endless day, until he lost track of the time. At first, he had wondered at the fact that Karg hadn't kept track of how many days he'd been a prisoner of the shadow gnomes, but he hadn't known then what it was like. He didn't know how long his workshift was, he didn't know how long they were given each night to sleep. Every day was just like the day that preceded it. He was hemmed in by darkness and stone, cut off from everyone except Karg. Months passed, blended into a mindless and unchanging river of work.

Periodically, Mal tried to prod the dwarf about his escape plan. That he had one was clear, but he wouldn't reveal any details except to repeat that the rock was right, all they had to do was be patient. Mal held onto his patience grimly and continued to practice his exercises to pass the time.

After each workshift, before sinking into sleep, he and Karg talked. They told each other about their lives before the shadow gnomes. Mal told Karg about his father's farm, about his visit to Fang Mountain, about the college, about Rivenbark, and about Caitlin.

That was where his thoughts lingered most. His friends. Karg had agreed with him that he couldn't leave his friends behind when the two of them finally escaped.

Mal was thinking about Caitlin as he worked, remembering a multitude of small things and an even greater multitude of missed opportunities. Suddenly, he heard a deep and very quiet sound of satisfaction. Without turning his head, no movement to attract the attention of the wandering guards, Mal looked at Karg. The dwarf was chipping away at the wall with a hammer and chisel. There was nothing unusual in that. What he finally prised free from the stone, however, wasn't one of the yellow gems they were supposed to be mining but a small unremarkable gray stone. Before Mal could get a good look, the stone vanished into Karg's clothing and the dwarf set to work on the wall with renewed energy.

This day, of all days, passed slowly. Neither Karg nor Mal gave any indication that anything unusual had happened. Finally, they were in their cell again. The ale had been delivered, and Karg didn't dump the contents as he had always done.

In the pitch darkness of the cell, Karg said quietly, "Karg and Mal can leave next workshift."

The despair that had been threatening to overwhelm Mal for so long ebbed away was replaced by a fierce excitement.

"How?"

"Karg will show."

Mal heard the sound of movement. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Over time, Karg has found other stones and hidden them in crevices in cell walls. Wait."

Mal heard more sounds of movement, followed by the sound of cloth ripping, following by the sound of stones being struck against each other. A spark flared, painfully bright to Mal's eyes. More sparks followed, and then the piece of cloth that Karg had ripped from his tunic was burning gently.

Mal saw Karg's face, with everything around him still encased in darkness. He watched the dwarf take one of the mugs of ale and drop the small stone he had discovered into it. It sank with a quiet plop.

"What is that?" Mal asked.

Karg smiled. "Something Karg think shadow gnomes not know about kolgoth. Is strong but has weakness." He dropped the burning cloth into the mug and the ale burst into bright flame. Karg let the flame burn itself out. Finally, the cell was in darkness again. Mal heard the sound of Karg pouring out most of the ale in the mug.

"Now what?" he asked.

"In bottom of mug is what Karg wants. It is to be still and let Karg work on shackles now."

THIRTY-NINE

The next day, after yet another meal of porridge, Mal and Karg found themselves back in the cavern. It was all that Mal could do not to stare at his shackles. Karg had traced a thin line down each shackle with the sludgy material that had been left in the bottom of the mug and then had told Mal to wait patiently and give the substance a chance to work.

When they reached the cavern, Mal took up his pickaxe and set to work on the wall. Karg, without seeming to, looked carefully around. He had to choose the moment. Unless the guards were in a pool of light near one of the work parties, Mal couldn't see them, but Karg knew where they were at all times.

Mal was digging his pick into the stone when he heard a soft exhalation next to him. He glanced sidelong at Karg, and the dwarf nodded. Mal watched as the dwarf bent over and gripped one of his shackles. As the muscles in Karg's arms tightened and swelled, Mal drove his pick into the stone. Mal could see the line where Karg had applied the substance, slightly darker than the untainted metal around it. The shackle, weakened, gave in the treated spot. The sound of the metal snapping was mixed with and buried beneath the normal sound of metal hitting stone.

Karg nodded, and they repeated the process first for Karg's other shackle and then for both of Mal's. Then Mal scooped up his pick, laid one hand on Karg's shoulder, and the two of them took off at a dead run. They darted into the nearest tunnel and ran into the darkness that filled it.

"Where are we going?" Mal asked.

"Does know where friends are?"

"I can find out the distance and direction if we can find a place to stop for just a minute or two."

"Hokay. Karg know place. Pass it on way to cavern every day."

Behind them, Mal heard a cry echoing through the tunnel.

Neither he nor Karg wasted any more breath on words. Their absence had been discovered.

Karg ran even faster, and Mal, running hunched over so that he could keep one hand on Karg's shoulder in the absolute darkness of the tunnel, could barely keep up.

"Side tunnel ahead on left," Karg warned. Mal managed to make the turn with him, and they continued to run into the darkness.

Mal had talked with dwarves in the past about how they managed to find their way in complete darkness, but none of them had ever been able to explain it to him. It wasn't sight, but they could identify friends and walk safely down tunnels they had never been in before. The couldn't do fine work or read or identify colors, though they could tell you how far ahead of them a tunnel extended without turning and run safely across uneven flooring. Mal had finally given up trying to understand it. He could he explain touch to someone who had never experienced it? Whatever it was, he'd seen it in action enough times to trust it implicitly.

Karg led them unhesitatingly down the tunnel and then through several turns before letting them stop and catch their breath.

"Hokay," Karg said, "Where friends?"

"Give me a minute to settle my breathing," Mal said. "The shadow gnomes can walk in darkness like dwarves, right?"

"No."

Mal was startled. "Are you sure? They leave the tunnels dark all the time unless they're taking prisoners through them, don't they?"

"Do," Karg confirmed. "But Karg has watched gnomes. In dark, gnomes count steps. Not always are certain where tunnels branch or turn. Leave tunnels dark to confuse and scare prisoners."

"Good," Mal said. "Maybe we have a chance."

"Have more chance now that not are chained. Karg will have to explain to gnomes why it is not to chain up dwarf!"

Mal heard the menace and the love of fighting in Karg's voice as his own breathing steadied and he drew his mind into focus and began probing the darkness, tapping into the energy patterns that lived in the tunnels and caverns.

He passed over a scene of furious activity. He passed over groups of unfamiliar patterns and then, in the middle of a crowd of others, he found the two he was looking for. Rivenbark and Caitlin, side by side.

"I've got it!" he said. He told Karg which direction and how far away his friends were.

"Food," Karg said. "Are eating. Karg can find. Go now?"

"Yes." Mal nodded, gripping the handle of his pick. "Go now."

Mal had never been bothered by the dark, but he was glad for Karg's presence beside him. He knew that he could never have navigated the tunnels on his own.

They moved more slowly now, pressed against the tunnel walls, seeking stealth rather than speed. Mal kept one hand on Karg's shoulder, and neither of them spoke as they pressed on through the darkness. Then Karg stopped suddenly, reached back, and moved Mal's hand gently off of his shoulder.

Mal didn't make a sound, but he felt his companion stiffening, bracing himself, and then he heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Two sets, perhaps three. He raised his pick and took a deep, careful breath.

The wooden shaft of the pick felt slippery in Mal's hands. He knew how heavy and sharp the head of the pick was. He knew what it could do to stone in his hands, and he could imagine what it would do to living flesh. He could imagine it all too well, in fact. He had seldom been called upon to kill even a predator stalking his father's flocks. The situation that he found himself in now was one totally new to him. He wondered what he would do when the moment to strike finally came.

Thoughts of Caitlin and of Rivenbark drifted through his mind. Images of the three of them, remaining captives until they died, finally worn away by the ceaseless toil, swept over him, and he tightened his grip on the pick and made himself as ready as he could. Then Karg reached back and laid the palm of one hand against Mal's chest. Wait. Stay. With relief, Mal relaxed.

He heard the footsteps approach. He felt, rather than heard, Karg leap away from him and attack. The dwarf swung through the darkness in uncharacteristic silence, and then Mal heard blows and cries followed rapidly by more silence.

"Done," Karg said, moving toward him. "Is good to strike at last."

Mal found his hand on Karg's shoulder again. The footing was uneven and slippery for the first several steps, and then they were back on dry stone once more and moving forward rapidly.

Karg guided them by a circuitous route, almost seeming to sense where a tunnel would lead before they entered it. They didn't encounter any more shadow gnomes, though the tunnels seemed to resonate with tension and they could hear the distant sounds of alarm.

Finally, ahead of them, Mal could make out a dim patch of light. He reached out again and knew that it was their destination. Caitlin and Rivenbark were still there. Something inside him uncoiled. Something that he hadn't even realized was clenched until it relaxed.

Suddenly, the light went out. Karg slowed down, then stopped. He pulled on Mal's arm until Mal bent over so that the dwarf could whisper in his ear.

"It is to stay. Karg will go to see."

Mal waited. He felt the absence of the dwarf and tried to reach out once again, but his mind was too unsteady. He couldn't tap into the energy flow. Didn't practice those exercises enough, he thought ruefully. Mika wouldn't be pleased. Fortunately for Mal's state of mind, Karg returned quickly.

"Have run chains through all shackles," he whispered.

"They never chain us in while we're eating," Mal said.

"Not worth it," Karg told him. "Too much trouble for too little time. Must have done it now because of Karg and Mal escaping. Probably also why lights are off. Not want more to escape."

"How can we get them out of the chains?" Mal whispered.

"One of gnomes must have key. Karg take it from him. Come."

Karg led Mal to the opening that led into the dining hall. He could hear the quiet noises that the prisoners made as they continued to eat. Well, why not? What else did they have to do?

Karg leapt into the room with a loud cry. It froze the few gnomes who were there in place, and Karg wiped them out quickly. In the dark, the advantage was all his. A nearly tangible silence fell over the room when he was done, the prisoners all motionless and utterly silent, not daring to make any noise while they didn't know what was going on.

Karg made his way back to Mal. "No keys," he said firmly.

"What?! Are you sure?!"

"Am."

"But..."

"Where are friends?"

Mal gathered himself. He was still too shaken to sense them, but he'd done it enough times already to know their location in the room. "Back row, left hand side, near the end."

"Come."

Karg led him through the darkened room and to the back table. A quiet murmuring had broken out among the prisoners, and some of them were rattling the chains, testing to see how strong they were. As they reached the back of the room, Mal heard a familiar voice.

"Will you quit pulling on my leg?"

"Caitlin..." The word was little more than an exhalation, but she heard it.

"Who...? Mal?!!"

Then he was beside her. He'd slammed his ankle against one of the benches getting there, but he didn't feel it. "Caitlin! Rivenbark!"

Their words were unintelligible for a few moments, and then Karg said, "Chains."

"Right." Mal nodded. "We have to get these chains off of you. I'm going to have to try a spell."

Caitlin groaned softly, but Rivenbark said, "No you won't. I can do it."

"Excuse me?"

Caitlin's voice was so normal that Mal could have laughed.

"There's a lock at the end of each table. I can reach it. I hid a lockpick in the hem of my tunic right before we were captured. I've still got it."

"Who's with you, Mal?" Caitlin asked.

"Oh. This is Karg."

"A dwarf?" Rivenbark cried, delighted.

"Am," Karg said.

"How nice! You know, I've grown to have a great appreciation for--"

"Rivenbark!" Caitlin interrupted. "Get on with it!"

"Surely."

They could hear the clanking of the chain as Rivenbark felt for the lock. There were a few more clanking noises followed by a lighter sound, as of metal striking stone.

"Would somebody hand me that lockpick off the floor, please?" There was a pause. "Thank you, Karg."

"Rivenbark," Caitlin said, "We don't have time for this!"

"It's alright, Kate. Trust me."

Caitlin's silence was more eloquent than anything she could possibly have said.

They listened for a few moments to the soft clink of metal on metal, and then there was a quiet click followed by a louder clanking sound as the lock opened and then fell to the floor.

Karg grabbed the chain and pulled it free.

"You did it!" Caitlin cried, surprised.

"All that time spent getting smacked across the hands paid off," Rivenbark said.

"What do we do now?" Caitlin asked, climbing to her feet.

"We get these shackles off," Rivenbark told her.

"Then what?" Caitlin asked.

"Then wait for Karg and Mal to come back," Karg told her.

"Where are we going?" Mal asked.

"To make friends," Karg told him.

FORTY

Karg led Mal rapidly down a series of darkened tunnels until the two of them were peering into the cavern where all the mining was taking place. There were several more guards in there than was usual, and all of the guards looked jumpy. Each one had a whip or a sword in hand, and the entire cavern was brightly lit so that each prisoner was clearly visibly.

"What did you have in mind?" Mal asked.

"Set prisoners free," Karg told him.

"How? There's no way we can unlock or break those chains, even the ones that aren't kolgoth."

"No, but not need to. Karg have other idea."

"What is it?"

"Not waste time talking! Come!"

Karg slapped Mal on the back and darted into the cavern at a moment when none of the guards were looking. They hadn't approached the cavern by the same tunnel that they had used to leave it, and the work party nearest them consisted of a human, an elf and a dwarf. Karg ran quickly up to the group and grabbed the ring that held the chain which connected the elf and the dwarf and tried to pull it up out of the stone. It didn't budge.

Seeing what Karg was doing, Mal joined him, quickly followed by the chained dwarf. All three strained and heaved. They could feel the ring moving, but it didn't look like it was going to come out of the stone. Suddenly, the elf wrapped his hands around the ring. He and the dwarf looked at each other for a moment, and then everyone pulled. The ring quivered, shifted and then flew up out of the stone so suddenly that nearly everyone fell down.

It took the guards a few minutes to realize what was going on, and then half a dozen of them came running toward the group. Some of the others spread out around the cavern to keep the prisoners calm, and some bolted from the cavern.

Mal and Karg ran to free another group of prisoners. The elf and dwarf, still hobbled and still connected to each other by a chain several feet long, picked themselves up and looked at the oncoming group of guards. The dwarf grabbed his pickaxe and was about to run toward the guards when the elf caught his attention and said something to him. The dwarf grinned and gave the elf a buffet that nearly knocked him down. They ran side by side toward the approaching guards, with the dwarf bellowing a blood curdling war cry at the top of his lungs. The walls of the cavern seemed to vibrate with the sound.

At the last moment, when it looked like they were about to run into the guards, the elf and the dwarf split, running around the group of guards instead of through them. The chain that joined them, pulled taut, caught the guards around the ankles, felling the whole group. With another cry, both of them leapt on the fallen guards.

Meanwhile, Karg and Mal continued to free as many prisoners as they could. Some of those who had been freed merely cringed in place, afraid to move. Others ran for one of the cavern's exits at full speed. A few began to free more of their fellows, and the remainder grabbed picks and began to attack the guards, many of whom broke and ran. The prisoners were weak and, in many cases, inexperienced, but they made up for that with numbers and a driving anger.

"Enough!" Karg called to Mal. "More guards come soon! Grab weapons!"

Suiting action to word, Karg scooped up as many pickaxes as he could carry. Mal, his arms full, followed behind him. As he jogged down the tunnel, Karg kept up a continuous stream of talk, giving Mal, who didn't have a hand free to hang on with, sound to follow. They made it back to the dining hall without encountering any shadow gnomes, though they had heard the sound of a large group passing down a joining tunnel a short distance away.

When they reached the dining hall, light was flowing out of the door, and they could hear the prisoners talking among themselves. When they reached the doorway, they dropped the picks they had been carrying, and several of the prisoners grabbed them.

"Now," Caitlin said, holding her new weapon. "Let's go and find our stuff."

"Need guide," Karg said.

"So we do," Caitlin agreed. "Let's go and find one."

Karg grinned at her and nodded. "Not bad, for human," he said.

Caitlin grinned back, and the newly freed prisoners boiled out of the room and into the tunnels, with Mal, Caitlin, Rivenbark and Karg forming a compact group. They split off from the main crowd and ran down a side tunnel. The could hear the rising sound of revolt echoing off of the walls behind them.

It didn't them long to find a small group of shadow gnomes, drawn by the noise, armed and ready. The two groups encountered each other at a blind corner. Confused by the echoes of their own running feet, the three humans hadn't realized that anyone was around the corner, but Karg had, and he had put on an extra burst of speed, ducking low to avoid any swinging weapons, and darted around the corner and into the oncoming gnomes, bowling them over and attacking them rapidly but with carefully aimed blows.

As soon as she rounded the corner, Caitlin joined the fight. The shadow gnomes had been surprised, but they were strong and well armed. Karg killed two of them before the other three could regain their feet, and these, their attention focused on the dwarf, were surprised by Caitlin's sudden appearance.

Mal and Rivenbark didn't join in. They weren't needed. The fight was swift and messy and, when it was over, all of the shadow gnomes lay dead save one. Caitlin was unmarked, but Karg had a thin line of blood running down one arm, leaking from a shallow cut.

Karg grabbed the remaining shadow gnome, lying unarmed and wounded, by the front of his tunic. He spoke with his face less than an inch from the gnome's in a deep growl. "Where are prisoner's weapons?"

The gnome blinked at him, shaking his head.

"He doesn't understand," Caitlin said, her breathing already slowing back to normal after her exertions.

Mal looked at her. She was dirty and sweaty, stained by all of her time in the mud sluice. Her hair was utterly filthy, and her face was haggard and pale. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Karg growled something else at the gnome, which none of the humans could understand. The gnome blinked rapidly a few times and then replied in the same language. Karg nodded and dropped the gnome to the ground.

"Have directions," he said.

"What about him?" Caitlin asked, gesturing at the gnome.

Karg shrugged and smacked the gnome casually in the head, knocking him out. "Not is problem."

"I guess not."

With Karg leading the way, the three of them headed down several tunnels. The noise level in the tunnels was rising all the time. They could hear fighting all around them, and they periodically caught glimpses of struggles going on down tunnels that they passed.

"There!" Karg said, pointing at a door several yards down the tunnel. At that moment, there was a yell behind them, and a battle spilled out of a side tunnel, catching up with them at last. They were suddenly surrounded by shouting, bleeding figures attacking each other with a ferocity that was new to Caitlin.

"Go!" Karg said. "Get gear. Karg will stay and fight!" With a yell that froze everyone for a few seconds, he leaped at the nearest gnome, his pick swinging.

"Come on!" Mal cried, running for the door. He threw his weight against it, and it didn't budge.

Rivenbark knelt down before the door and peered at the lock. Then he dug out his lockpick and set to work.

Mal watched the surging, fighting crowd too short a distance away. Caitlin swung her eyes continuously from Rivenbark to the fight and back again, her pickaxe gripped tightly in her hands. She had just opened her mouth to urge Rivenbark to hurry up when he stepped back, grinned, and swung the door open.

"You know, Mal," he said happily, "I'd really like the chance to go back to Fang Mountain and thank--"

"Will you go on?!" Caitlin said, pushing Rivenbark into the room and following after him, but even she stopped and just looked for a moment at the contents of the room. There were racks of weapons of all kinds and all levels of quality. There were cabinets and shelves and drawers and boxes and chests and sacks and packs containing all manner of goods and gear that the gnomes had taken from their prisoners before setting them to work.

Caitlin walked over to the weapons and looked at them lovingly, taking a few of them off of the shelves and trying them out. She finally settled on a pair of daggers and a small axe, strapping them on with a harness and sheath. She felt ready to take on the gnomes now.

Rivenbark and Mal, meanwhile, had been throwing open the lids to boxes and chests, peering into drawers and cabinets, each seeking a different item. Mal was the first to cry out. Rivenbark looked over to find Mal holding up the book that Mika had given him, flipping through its pages.

Then it was Rivenbark's turn. He spotted a weatherworn sack that looked familiar. He opened it and began to paw through the contents. Then, in frustration, he simply emptied the bag onto the floor of the cavern.

His third best tunic was lying on the top of the pile, which was nice. The one he was wearing was a mess, and he'd be glad to have a change of clothing. He also spotted his sewing kit in the pile. He sorted through the clothes rapidly, and there, wrapped in a scarf, was the sword, all three pieces.

"I knew," he said with a grin, picking them up, "That things had to start going our way again sometime!"

FORTY-ONE

"What about the rest of our gear?" Caitlin asked, looking around.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Mal told her, his eyes still on the book.

"It's all right," Rivenbark said cheerfully. "Mal's got his book. You've got your weapons." He stopped and peered at her. "Those aren't yours," he said.

"They are now," she told him firmly.

"Weren't you the one who was complaining about thieves once upon a time?" Rivenbark asked with a grin.

"Never mind."

Rivenbark nodded. "And we've got the sword back!" He started shoving the contents of the sack back into it. "And I've got a change of clothes, my sewing kit, and...my dwarven spices!" he finished with a yelp of pleasure that was nearly drowned out by Caitlin's groan of dismay.

"If you don't mind," she added, "Even though you'll probably ruin it, I'd like a little food, too."

They continued to search the room and found most of the rest of their gear neatly stacked inside a cabinet. "My tools!" Rivenbark cried, holding up a flat black pouch before secreting it in his clothing. "You see?" he said with a grin, "I told you things were going our way again," Rivenbark said.

"What about food?" Caitlin asked.

"You shouldn't worry so much about unimportant things," Rivenbark told her. "It upsets the digestion."

"And what difference does that make if I don't have anything to digest?"

"Maybe we'd better just find the way out of here," Mal suggested.

"Back up to the surface!" Rivenbark yelled, brandishing the bag with the sword in it. He charged across the chamber toward what he decided was the tunnel leading back above ground.

Just as he reached the tunnel entrance, a score of armed shadow gnomes came running out of it straight at him.

Rivenbark and the lead gnome collided, but Rivenbark untangled himself from the pileup first. "Back to the mines!" he shouted, charging back past Mal and Caitlin, who quickly followed him, and into the tunnel they had used to reach the storage room in the first place.

"Rivenbark!" Caitlin yelled as she overtook him, "Put the sword away!"

"It is away!" Rivenbark told her, holding up the bag. "It's in here!"

"Put the bag in your pack!" Caitlin ordered.

Rivenbark nodded. "First chance I get!"

There were still isolated pockets of fighting in the tunnels, and it was unclear who was winning the battle, the gnomes or their former prisoners, but the gnomes had reinforcements on the way.

Karg, when they found him again, had picked up a few new small wounds but showed no signs of giving up. The dwarf had rallied seven or eight other dwarves around him and had managed to find a battle axe somewhere.

"Ho, Mal!" Karg called, waving his axe in greeting after using it to decapitate one of his opponents.

"There are more gnomes coming!" Mal told him.

"Good! Let come! Dwarfs can handle!"

The dwarfs apparently could handle. Dead and unconscious gnomes littered the tunnel around the small group, and the few that were still fighting were being subdued quickly,

Rivenbark took advantage of the pause to carefully stow the sack he'd been holding deep in his pack and to make certain that his pack was sealed.

"There!" he told the sword. "I'm not losing you again!"

"Which way do we go to get out of here?" Caitlin asked Karg, her voice urgent.

Karg pointed down the tunnel. "Two straight, second left, third right, left again, fourth left, second right, third left. Not can miss! Karg and dwarfs stay to fight!"

"Thanks..." Caitlin said, looking a bit dazed.

"You should know better," Mal told her with a laugh, "than to ask a dwarf for directions underground."

Caitlin glared at him. "Did you get the directions?"

Mal half shrugged. "Not quite...." he admitted.

"Don't worry!" Rivenbark said cheerfully. "We'll find the way out. Things are--"

"Going our way, I know," Caitlin said. "I'd like something a little more solid to go on, if you don't mind."

Mal glanced anxiously back down the tunnel, speeding up as he did so.

"Do we have to go this fast?" Rivenbark asked, beginning to pant.

"Yes. Any gnomes that get past Karg will be coming after us."

"Let's pick it up, then!" Rivenbark said.

As they continued to run, the light grew dimmer. The lanterns were spaced farther apart, and the tunnel began to curve. Mal, in the lead, rounded one of the curves only to discover that the tunnel floor ended sooner than the rest of the tunnel did. He never had a chance to catch his balance but tumbled into a rock pit, his head slamming into an outcrop of stone.

Caitlin, a few feet behind him, heard the dull thud of Mal's impact followed by the sharper sound of his head hitting something hard. She spotted the opening in the floor and, instead of trying to stop, gathered her legs under her and used her forward momentum to jump. She leaped across the large hole, landing safely on the other side and yelling for Rivenbark to pull up.

Rivenbark, hearing all the noise, slowed down before he reached the corner. He managed to stop in time, windmilling his arms to keep his balance, with his toes practically hanging over the edge of the pit.

Caitlin turned and looked down, feeling her throat close as she saw Mal lying limply fifteen feet below her, blood streaming from a wound she couldn't see and staining the stones beneath his head.

To Be Continued . . .

Bio:"I am a college biology teacher living in the southeastern US with my wife, one dog, and one cat, which is plenty of cats but several dogs too few. All in all, I think the universe is a lot sillier than we can possibly imagine, which won't stop me from trying."

E-mail: benedete@esn.net