“Cannot tell you, mistress.” More and more the spindly creature’s expression soured. “Best . . . best if I show you, instead.”
This surprised her. “I granted you your freedom, Kryll—”
“For which this poor wretch is so eternally grateful, mistress . . . but only one path to Grim Batol offers certainty, and without me,” he dared look slightly egotistical, “neither elf nor dwarf will find it.”
“We’ve got my mount, you little rodent! We’ll simply fly over—”
“In a land of dragons?” The goblin chuckled, a hint of madness there. “Best to fly right into their mouths and be done with it, then. . . . No, to enter Grim Batol—if that is truly what mistress desires—you’ll have to follow me.”
Falstad would not hear of that and immediately protested, but Vereesa saw no choice but to do as the goblin suggested. Kryll had led them true so far, and although she did not, of course, trust him entirely, she felt certain that she would recognize if he tried to lead them astray. Besides, clearly the goblin wanted nothing to do with Grim Batol himself, or else why would he have been where they had found him? Any of his kind who served the orcs would have been in the mountain fortress, not wandering the dangerous wilds of Khaz Modan.
And if he could lead her yet to Rhonin . . .
Having convinced herself that she chose correctly, Vereesa faced the dwarf. “I will go with him, Falstad. It is the best—the only choice—I have.”
His broad shoulders slumping, Falstad sighed. “’Tis against my better judgment, but, aye, I’ll go with you—if only to keep an eye on this one, so I can lop off his traitorous head if I prove right!”
“Kryll, must we go on foot the entire way?”
The misshapen little creature mused for a moment, then replied, “No. Can travel some distance with gryphon.” He gave her a smile full of teeth. “Know just where beast should land!”
Despite his apparent misgivings, Falstad started for the gryphon. “Just tell us where to go, you little rodent. The sooner we’re there, the sooner you can be on your way. . . .”
The goblin’s weight added little to the powerful animal’s burden, and soon the gryphon was on its way. Falstad, of course, sat in front, the better to control his mount. Kryll sat behind him with Vereesa taking up the rear. The elf had resheathed her sword and now held a dagger ready just in case their undesired companion attempted something.
Yet, although the goblin’s directions were not always the clearest, Vereesa saw nothing that hinted of duplicity. He kept them near to the ground and always guided them along paths that steered them from the open areas. In the distance, the mountains of Grim Batol grew nearer. A sense of anxiety spread through the ranger as she realized that she approached her goal, but that anxiousness was tempered by the fact that, even now, she had come across no sign of either Rhonin or the black dragon. Surely this close to the mountain fortress the orcs would have been able to sight such a leviathan.
And as if thinking of dragons allowed one to conjure them up, Falstad suddenly pointed east, where a massive form rose into the sky.
“Big!” he called. “Big and red as fresh blood! Scout from Grim Batol!”
Kryll immediately acted. “Down there!” the goblin pointed at a ravine. “Many places to hide—even for a gryphon!”
With little other choice, the dwarf obeyed, guiding his mount earthward. The dragon’s form grew larger and larger, but Vereesa noted that the crimson beast also headed in a more northerly direction, possibly to the very northern border of Khaz Modan, where the last desperate forces of the Horde sought to hold back the Alliance. That made her wonder about the situation there. Had the humans begun their advance at last? Could the Alliance itself even now be halfway to Grim Batol?
If so, it would still be too late for her purposes. Yet, the nearing presence of the Alliance might aid in one way, if it made the orcs here concentrate on matters other than their own immediate defenses.
The gryphon alighted in the ravine, the animal instinctively seeking the shadows. No coward, the gryphon had the sense to know when to choose a battle.
Vereesa and the others leapt off, finding their own places to hide. Kryll pressed himself against one rocky wall, his expression that of open terror. The ranger actually found herself feeling some sympathy for him.
They waited for several minutes, but the dragon did not fly by. After what seemed far too long a time, the impatient ranger decided to see for herself if the beast had changed direction. Getting a proper grip on the rock, she climbed up.
The elf saw nothing in the darkening sky, not even a speck. In fact, Vereesa suspected that they could have departed this ravine long before, if only one of them had dared look.
“No sign?” whispered Falstad, climbing up beside her. For a dwarf, he proved himself quite nimble crawling up the side.
“We are clear. Very much so.”
“Good! Unlike my hill cousins, I’ve no taste for holes in the ground!” He started down. “All right, Kryll! The danger’s done! You can peel yourself—”
The moment his voice cut off, Vereesa jerked her head around. “What is it?”
“That damned spawn of a frog’s gone!” He scrambled down the rest of the way. “Vanished like a will-o”-the-wisp!”
Dropping down as safely as she could, the ranger joined Falstad in scanning the immediate area. Sure enough, despite the fact that they should have been able to see the goblin’s retreating figure in either direction, not one sign of Kryll existed. Even the gryphon acted baffled, as if it, too, had not even noticed that the spindly creature had run off.
“How could he have just disappeared?”
“Wish I knew that myself, my dear elven lady! A neat trick!”
“Can your gryphon hunt him down?”
“Why not just let him go? We’re better off without him!”
“Because I—”
The ground underneath her feet suddenly softened, broke apart. The elf’s boots sank deep within seconds.
Thinking that she had walked into mud, she tried to pull free. Instead, Vereesa only sank deeper, and at an alarming rate. It almost felt as if she were being pulled down.
“What in the name of the Aerie—?” Falstad, too, had sunk deep, but in the dwarf’s case that meant he suddenly stood up to his knees in dirt. Like the ranger, he attempted to extricate himself, only to completely fail.
Vereesa grabbed for the nearest rock face, trying to seize hold. For a moment, she succeeded, managing to slow her progress downward. Then, something powerful seemed to take hold of her ankles, pulling with such force that the ranger could no longer keep her grip.
Above them she heard a panicked squawk. Unlike Vereesa and the dwarf, the gryphon had managed to pull up in time to avoid being dragged under. The animal fluttered above Falstad’s head, trying, it seemed, to get a grip on its master. However, as the beast dropped lower, columns of dirt suddenly shot up, trying, Vereesa realized in horror, to seize the mount. The gryphon narrowly escaped, forced now to fly up so high that the animal could not possibly aid either warrior.
Which left Vereesa with no notion as to how to escape.
Already the earth came up to her waist. The thought of being buried alive set even the elf on edge, yet, in comparison to Falstad’s predicament, hers seemed slightly less immediate. The dwarf’s shorter stature meant that he already had trouble keeping his head above ground. Try as he might, even the mighty strength of the gryphon-rider could not help him. He grabbed furiously at the soft earth, ripping up handfuls that did him no good whatsoever.
In desperation, the ranger reached out. “Falstad! My hand! Reach for it!”
He tried. They both tried. The gap between them had grown too great, however. In growing horror, Vereesa watched as her struggling companion was inevitably pulled under.
“My—” was all he managed before disappearing from sight.