“What are you doing?” Brianna asked.
“I just wanted to check something,” he said.
Then he tossed the burning hemp over the rail of the bridge. Zollin and Brianna watched as it tumbled down into the darkness, flickering as it went. The light faded until it was a pin prick, smaller than a star in the night sky. And then, it disappeared.
“Did it burn out?” Brianna asked.
“No,” Zollin said. “I don’t think so.”
“What happened to it?”
“It’s still falling,” said the gruff voiced dwarf behind them. “It’s just too far for you to see.”
“Have you ever gone down there?” Zollin asked.
“No. We dwarves are mountain folk. We live in the roots of the mountains. Foul things dwell below, in the deep places of the earth.”
They continued their journey in silence after that. Both Zollin and Brianna wrestled with ideas of what could be down deep in the bowels of the earth. The luggart had been horrific, but could there really be worse things? They didn’t understand how the dwarves could live exposed to such terrifying creatures, but they kept these thoughts to themselves.
The next day they came to another dwarf village. It was located next to a Stepping Stone cavern that still had an intact but ancient bridge. It was a crumbling structure; the rails were broken down and the edges of the path over the center of the bridge had fallen off, leaving jagged edges that encroached on the path, making it narrow and dangerous to cross. It also left the traveler exposed to the heat from the molten pool below.
“What brings the Oliad clan here without arkhi to trade?” asked a fat dwarf with a dirty beard.
“We are traveling the Stepping Stones,” said Bahbaz.
“The Jaq clan has one of the only usable caverns left,” said the fat dwarf. “But you can’t cross for free. And I don’t see anything you brought to trade, Bahbaz.”
The fat dwarf said the Oliad clan leader’s name with scorn. The other dwarves bristled with injured pride, but Bahbaz just laughed.
“We don’t come empty-handed,” he said. “The Oliad clan never comes with nothing to trade. We’ve brought a wizard.”
“Bah, there are no more wizards,” said the fat dwarf.
“Hammert, your skull is as thick as your belly. Here stands a wizard, and a powerful one at that. He defeated the luggart.” Bahbaz pointed to Zollin as he spoke.
“Bah! The only thing the Oliad clan brings is lies. Where did you find the tall folk? Lost wandering in the mountains I expect. We’ve no use for southlanders.”
“Your bridge is crumbling,” Bahbaz said. “As is the reputation of your tribe. I’ll trade my wizard’s work on your bridge for. .” He let the thought trail off as he pondered what the village had to offer.
“Nothing,” cried Hammert. “I wouldn’t trade with grifters like you. We’ve more sense than that.”
“No, you don’t,” said Bahbaz. “In fact you’re already proven how very little sense you have. Why don’t you welcome us into your village? Are you so poverty-stricken that you can’t offer basic hospitality?”
“Bahbaz, you old fool. If you insult us again I’ll cave in your skull with my hammer.”
“You’ll try, but I’m warning you not to threaten me again,” Bahbaz said menacingly. “We’ve repaired the Stepping Stones between here and the Oliad village. Do you really want people to have to try and cross that ruinous relic you call a bridge? Most traders will bypass your village rather than risk it, and your pride will be the reason that your clan suffers.”
“What do you know of suffering? The Jaq clan has fought the luggart for decades. We’ve held the only Stepping Stone bridge in the North. While you Oliads brew your drink and live in safety, we’ve sacrificed to make sure that trade has prospered in the dark days.”
“What’s he mean by dark days?” Zollin asked.
“He’s referring to the loss of magic in the land and the decay of our way of life. There are fewer dwarves now. Some of the clans have been lost in the darkness. But that’s changing now,” Bahbaz said this last part loudly, as much to Hammert as to Zollin. “You’re the proof of that. The magic is awakening and prosperous times are ahead for the dwarves. Here is a friendly wizard. One who would fix your bridge and share your bread, if you’ll but offer it to him.”
“He’s not welcome,” said Hammert. “No one is.”
“You refuse us?” Bahbaz said angrily. “What kind of dwarf are you?”
“I’m the kind that knows what it takes to protect my clan,” he said. “Move on, I’ve no more time for your idle talk.”
“Hammert!” Bahbaz shouted. “What is wrong with you? Are you so old and bitter that you’ve lost your senses?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hammert screamed back.
“What’s wrong?” Zollin said.
“Keep your pet human on his leash,” Hammert said.
The group of dwarves traveling with Zollin were angry now. They were prideful people, and while hearing the Jaq headman insult their leader could be excused as poor trading, they would not let Hammert slander Zollin.
“I’ll have your head for that,” shouted Bahbaz.
“Come and get me,” Hammert taunted.
He was standing on what amounted to a balcony that overlooked the tunnel as it opened into a larger cavern. There was an arch of stone with heavy metal doors that blocked their way forward. Bahbaz and his kinsmen were about to charge forward with their war hammers, but Zollin spoke again.
“What is it? Sickness? Plague?” the wizard said loudly.
This made Bahbaz hesitate. Hammert looked crestfallen. His pride was gone, and so was his defiance. He hung his head and leaned heavily on the balcony rail.
“I can help,” said Zollin. “Please let me try.”
“You can’t,” said Hammert. “Our best healers have all failed. If you carry this sickness to the other clans, we could all be wiped out.”
“What is it?” Bahbaz called.
“It’s a wasting disease. Fever burns and food can’t be kept down, not even water. We’re dying here, Bahbaz. Go and leave us to die in peace.”
“Perhaps he’s right,” Bahbaz said.
“No, I can help them,” Zollin said.
“He can,” Brianna added. “He can heal people using magic. I’ve seen it.”
“They may not allow us and even if they did, Hammert’s right,” Bahbaz said. “We could get sick and spread the disease.”
“Just let me go in alone,” Zollin said. “If I can’t heal them, you can leave me here.”
“No!” Brianna said loudly. “We’re not leaving you.”
“You’d never find your way out of the mountains,” Bahbaz said sadly. “Even if you weren’t killed by the disease. And you might spread it to the other clans. We can’t take that risk.”
“Then I won’t leave. I’ll stay here if I can’t heal them.”
“Think about what you’re saying, Zollin.”
“I am,” he said. “I can’t just leave these people to die.”
“Dwarves to die,” corrected the gruff-voiced dwarf.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said firmly.
“You don’t have to. Make camp here,” Zollin said. “I’ll go in and see if I can help them. Then we’ll decide what to do.”
“I’d rather take you around the village,” Bahbaz said. “Then we can repair the rest of the Stepping Stones.”
“I can’t,” Zollin said. “Besides, how long would it take us to go around?”
“Only a few more days.”
“We can’t risk that,” Zollin said. “The dragon would be too far ahead of us.”
“Forget the dragon,” Brianna said. “I’m not sure you should take the chance. You don’t know if you can heal dwarves.”
“I don’t know I can’t,” Zollin said.
“But you don’t know for sure,” she argued.