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She froze in her work, startled, then dropped her net and lay flat, placing her ear to the ground as she held her breath. Even through the roaring of the falls and the tremor the cascade sent through the earth, random clicks and pops could be heard in the stone. And the air above the rock had a new smell, a broken-stone and lightning odor that the fisher dwarf had never before sensed but had often heard tell of in old legends of horror. She clumsily got to her feet and ran to seize an iron-headed gaff beside a metal pot.
The other dwarves of Raurogh's Hall had ceased their work to look about uncertainly for the source of the sharp crack they heard come from all directions around them. A moment later, a high, rhythmic clanging of metal against metal was heard. Some dwarves recognized the ancient signal and shouted the alarm. The others heard and as one flung down their tools in rising panic, quickly awakening those who were still abed. Without delay, the hundred dwarves packed themselves into sheltered corners or beneath narrow doorways, their backs pressed tight to the stone and teeth clenched in preparation. The broken-rock odor was everywhere now, disaster was certain. The dwarves' lips moved in prayer to their ancient gods. Mere seconds later, the earthquake struck.
The garden of glowing fungi had come to Wykar's mind when he had asked Geppo to meet with him later, after their unexpected escape from the drow. The fungus garden was reasonably close to the Sea of Ghosts, where the gold, the egg, and their former masters now lay, and the garden could be reached only through a high narrow tu
Wykar now descended the rough cave wall down from the tu
Once the derro had descended from the fungus garden and the rope was flipped loose and put away, Wykar took the lead toward their destination. Geppo agreeably followed a dozen paces behind, saying nothing and studiously ignoring the lethal advantage his position gave him over the gnome. Instead, he tested the heft of the gnome's blade and practiced a few shallow swings with it, then slid it back in his ragged sheath and prepared his crossbow instead. That done, he watched the walls and ceiling for possible targets as he walked. The gnome noticed this and gave himself a mental pat on the back. Maybe Geppo would adhere to the contract after all. He was certainly an odd fellow.
Wykar walked on with confidence, not particularly worried about being shot or stabbed in the back. He had long ago prepared for that in other circumstances, and he did not question his current defenses. Still, he would be disappointed if Geppo turned traitor just now. He would hate having to kill Geppo, even if he was just a derro.
The gnome's mind wandered as they walked. In the time they had been slaves, Geppo had said nothing about his past or how he had come to be held by the drow for what was likely many thousands of sleepings. He sometimes mentioned his father, but always as a powerful figure, always in the past tense, and always in a way that rang a little oddly to Wykar. Wykar had eventually asked about Geppo's father, but his questions were met with sudden silence, a cryptic shrug, or a change of subject.
It was getting dark again, no glowing fungi clung to the walls in this part of the tu
Wykar glanced back and saw Geppo squinting around but making good headway over the sand and stones nonetheless. The eyes of derros, Wykar had heard, were poorly adapted to seeing heat, their visual range for that was as far as a child could pitch a pebble. Hardly tragic, considering their other flaws.
Wykar's mind spun on as they made their trek to the Sea of Ghosts. If Geppo had been a true person, another svirfneblin, Wykar thought, we would have grasped each other and wept for joy in that glowing garden. He shook his head. No, that's wrong. We would never have parted after our escape. We would have been inseparable. It's as if I were cheated by the gods. If it weren't for having to get rid of that egg…
The deep gnome shook himself. What he had to get rid of were dark thoughts like these. They weren't doing the situation any good. His thoughts did not encourage talk between the two as they walked, but too much talk would have been unwise anyway. They were in a large, open area, and the more quietly they moved, the longer they would live. Silent hours passed. They rested and ate only briefly, not stopping for long at any point.
Wykar was meditating on the negative aspects of his plan to get the egg and destroy it when he heard the derro cough and whisper, "You close here to home, hey?"
The gnome slowed and waited for Geppo to catch up while swiftly signaling for him to speak more softly. They then walked on, side by side, with only a couple of yards between them. Wykar decided he could put up with a little conversation with a weird derro, they were still two hours from the side tu
"No," said Wykar truthfully, then thought and added, "I had to run to get there and back in time. Didn't mean to be late."
Geppo said nothing in return.
Wykar glanced up at the derro and took a chance. "Is your home around here?" he asked.
Geppo looked at him blankly, then away again. He shrugged. Wykar had seen that shrug a hundred times.
"Well, you asked me," said Wykar. "What did you do when I left? Did you find your people?"
Geppo shrugged again. "Stayed here, blue food cave. Sharp up sword, eat, sleep, wait you."
Wykar looked up in surprise at the ragged white ex-slave. "You didn't just stay here, did you?" he said.
The derro waved at the air as if brushing away a fly, but he didn't respond.
Wykar sniffed and rubbed at his large nose. "I thought you would go home and see your family, your father. Maybe lead a war party back and kill some drow. Have a little fun."
The derro frowned and shook his head. He took a breath to say something that seemed to be difficult to get out, then exhaled and shrugged. "Not anything… nothing to do," he finally said.