The Dwarves

Tungdil and Boпndil sat at the front, with Bavragor and Goпmgar on the next bench and Boлndal at the rear. Their luggage, including comestibles, equipment, and the materials for Keenfire, was shared among them and stowed at their feet.

Tungdil turned round and sca

"Trust in Vraccas," he said, shifting his gaze to focus on the door ahead. His left hand grasped the lever beside the rail. He pulled it back and the door swung open, clearing their passage into the darkness ahead.

"And now to save Girdlegard…" He let up on the brakes and the wagon rolled gently down the ramp toward the tu

"What if Gandogar sabotaged the rail?" Goпmgar asked anxiously. "Or what if we're too heavy and fly off the side?"

"Let's hope we don't find out!" There was a crazed glint in Boпndil's eyes as they rushed toward the final pitch. "Here we come!"

Gathering speed, the wagon reached the point where the tu

Ireheart whooped in excitement, Boлndal held on for dear life, Bavragor burst into song, and Goпmgar petitioned Vraccas, while Tungdil wondered whether any of his companions were sane.

XII

Underground Network, Girdlegard, Late Autumn, 6234th Solar Cycle The windswept dwarves sped through the tu

Bavragor had stopped singing after choking on something that had flown into his mouth, leaving Boпndil to whoop and bellow with untrammeled enthusiasm, exhilarated by the stomach-turning ride.

Goпmgar was praying with his eyes closed and beseeching Vraccas to protect him from harm. His mortal terror betrayed a lack of confidence in Gandogar's sense of fair play.

The carefully hewn walls flashed past so rapidly that all they could see was a blur of polished stone. After a while the tu

"You'll burst my eardrums if you keep yelling like that," Boлndal told his twin. "It's even noisier at the back because of the wind."

Boпndil roared with laughter. "Isn't this fun? It's a million times faster than boring old ponies. I'd like to shake our forefathers by the hand!"

"I don't know," grumbled Bavragor, wiping brandy from his eyes. "They could have made it a bit easier for me to drink."

Tungdil smiled quietly. Being with other dwarves almost made up for the ordeals he had suffered since leaving Ionandar, and he had no regrets about visiting Ogre's Death, even though it meant embarking on another trip. At least this time he wouldn't be traveling alone. "If only it weren't for their blasted feuding…," he said, not realizing that he was speaking aloud.

"Blasted what?" Boпndil bellowed. "Speak up! I can't hear you!" Tungdil gave a helpless shrug.

Their steep slide into darkness ended as abruptly as it had begun and they continued at a more agreeable pace, with a few gradual climbs and the occasional gentle downhill.

They clattered over two junctions without being thrown off the rail.

"I hope we're on the right track," called Boлndal from the rear. "Has anyone seen any signposts?"

"I saw some levers before both sets of points," Tungdil shouted back. "There was dust and lichen all over them. I don't think anyone's used them for some time." He hoped to goodness he was right.

The tu

"There's your proof that Gandogar didn't come this way," said Bavragor, uncorking his leather drinking pouch and using the leisurely tempo to drink a few sips before the next descent. "Do you think they might have switched the points?"

"No," Tungdil said firmly. "The levers definitely hadn't been touched." Where else could they have gone, though?

"Maybe they lifted the wagon across the rails so we wouldn't be able to tell," surmised Boпndil.

Tungdil didn't argue, but privately he was wondering whether Gandogar's company had taken an entirely different route. What if they've found another tu

Meanwhile, the wagon was purring along the rail as if it had been making the journey every orbit for a hundred cycles. In time the tu

Tungdil jumped down stiffly. "Come on, you lot, let's see where we go from here." He was glad of the chance to stretch his legs after hours of sitting down.

Between them, they explored the hall and discovered an array of hoists and cauldrons similar to the setup in the secondling kingdom.

"It's a kind of junction," murmured Boлndal, shouldering his crow's beak. He sca

"Hey, Shimmerbeard! What are you doing?" boomed Boпndil.

The fourthling sprang away from the wall, revealing a tab- let of light gray granite. It was roughly the height and width of a gnome and held in place with long rusty nails. "I was…" He cleared his throat. "I was wiping the dust away," he said defiantly. "I wanted to see what it said."

"It looks like a map," said Tungdil, hurrying over. "Well done, Goпmgar. You've got sharp eyes."

He knew the fourthling didn't deserve his praise: Goпmgar had been scratching out the lines with his dagger to disadvantage the expedition and allow the fourthling king to get ahead. Tungdil had no means of actually proving it, so he kept the observation to himself and made a quick sketch of the map. I'll have to keep an eye on him.

"Look, Tungdil," Bavragor said cheerfully. "We're on the right track; it's this way."

"That's all we need: directions from a one-eyed dwarf," muttered Goпmgar just loud enough for Bavragor to hear.

The mason turned on him, snarling with rage. His right hand shot out, his fingers winding their way into the artisan's wavy beard and pulling him close.

"Come here, you pathetic excuse for a dwarf," he growled, raising his free hand and peeling back his left eyelid to expose the shriveled remains of an eye. A shard of rock was impaled at its center. "You think I'm blind, do you? Ha! Let me tell you about my eye. One orbit the mountain tired of my masonry and exacted its revenge. A splinter of rock as sharp and fine as a needle flew up and robbed me of my sight, but Vraccas took pity on me and made the other eye ten times as strong. That's ten times, Shimmerbeard. My one eye sees more clearly than ten!" He pushed the delicate artisan away and laughed grimly. "It sees the slightest flaw in the rock, the pores of your skin, and the fear in your eyes; what do you have to say about that?"

Goпmgar backed away from the mason's mighty hands and rubbed his chin. He had endured the humiliation silently, but now that Bavragor had released him, he felt brave enough to vent his fury in a threat. "You'll regret this, Hammerfist. Just wait until Gandogar is high king: The mountain won't be the only one to exact revenge!"