"Draw your steel," Kalen said, brandishing Vindicator high.
"You have done nothing worthy," said Rath.
"Then come to me with empty hands, if you will," Kalen said, taking a high, two-handed guard. "I tire of your child's games."
That seemed to touch Rath, for his neutral smile faded. He streaked toward Kalen like nothing dwarven. Kalen cut down, dropping one hand from the sword.
Steel clashed, followed by a grunt of pain.
Rath danced back, and Kalen coughed and struggled to stay on his feet.
The dwarf reached down and touched a dribble of blood forming along his right forearm. He looked at the cut curiously, as though he had not been wounded in a long time and had forgotten what it was like. Kalen gestured wide with the dirk he had pulled from his gauntlet, gripping it in his bare left hand. He let himself smile wryly inside his helm.
"I underestimated you, paladin," Rath said. "I shall not make that mistake again."
The dwarf reached for his sword in its gold lacquer scabbard and untied the peace bond. He closed his eyes, as though in prayer, and laid his fingers reverently around the hilt.
"You know what an honor this is," said Rath. "To find a worthy foe."
"I do."
The dwarf drew the sword in a blur, opened his eyes, and lunged.
Kalen almost couldn't block, so fasr was the strike. Rath's steelshort and curved and fine:-screeched against Vindicator, but both blades held. The speed stunned Kalen enough to slow his counter, which mighr have taken out Rath's throat if he'd been faster.
Instead, the dwarf leaped away, then lunged back, slashing. He did so again and again, moving so fast and gracefully that Kalen could hardly follow him with his eyes and parried almost wholly by touch.
Kalen worked his muscles as hard as he could, bringing the steel around to foil Rath's strikes, trying always to catch his slender sword between his own blades, but to no avail.
They exchanged a dozen passes before Rath fled, down the hall to the great cavern. Kalen gave chase, and might have lost everyrhing when Rath came at him suddenly. The dwarf could reverse his motion as though by will, in defiance of momentum or balance.
Kalen parried the blow with his dirk, but he felt Rath's blade slit open the leather over his bicep. He took a wider guard-a narrower profile. He tried to bring Vindicator around, but hit nothing as Rath flowed away from him, running along the wall of the corridor. The dwarf plunged into the tunnels, and Kalen followed.
They ran from corridor to corridor, slashing and scrambling forward. Their swords sparked, trailing silver lightning through the halls of Downshadow. Rath struck a dozen times with his blade, but Kalen parried every attack-with sword, dirk, or gauntlet. Each time, Rath bounded away and Kalen cursed, panted, and followed. Lurking creatures scurried out of their way as the men ran and fought, roused from hiding by the duel. The combatants ran on, heedless.
"A darkness where there is only me," Kalen whispered through gritted teeth.
Rath vaulted off a nearby wall and slashed down hard enough to break through Kalen's guard and ring his helmet soundly. Instead of following through, he leaped away and continued the chase. Kalen grunted and sped after him.
"Why do you keep fighting, Shadowbane?" Rath's calm voice showed no sign of strain. "I can see you tiring-feel you slowing."
Kalen said nothing, but ran on.
They ran between crumbling chambers. The magic of Kalen's boots drove his leaps high and far, but the dwarf still eluded him. The dwarf seemed able to run along the very walls if he wanted.
They broke into the main chamber of Downshadow, with its tents and huts, lit by the dancing firelight that flowed across the ceiling. Inhabitants clustered around cook fires erupted in curses, then fled the path of the avenger and his quarry. Vindicator's silver glow made them bright, shining warriors as they chased each other.
They plowed through the heart of the encampment, leaping over cook fires and around startled natives. Hands reached for steel or spell but Kalen and Rath flew past without pause. They knocked down tent poles, sent stew pots flying, and generally wreaked chaos across the cavern. Rath struck Kalen several more times, but his leathers held. He could not land a single blow on the dwarf, but felt certain that when he did, Rath would fall.
"What will it take?" Rath asked as he vaulted up a wall, caught an overhanging ledge, and swung over the side, seizing higher ground.
Kalen jumped after the dwarf, grasped a broken handhold-his gauntlet screeching-and swung himself up. He caught a narrow metal pole that lay between the ledge and the wall-a waste pipe for the Knight 'n Shadow, he realized, which perched in the cavern wall just above their heads.
He swung himself around the pipe like an acrobat, once, twice for momentum, then he let himself soar, feet first, up onto the ledge. He twisted in midair and landed on his feet, panting, knees bent, sword wide. He looked up at a huge stack of crates and barrels, above which hung the low platform of the tavern. Near Rath stood a small shack, balanced precariously on numerous long splints for legs, where workers would clean the tavern's rags and dump the waste water.
As Kalen landed, Rath scurried to the shed, slashed through two of the supports, then climbed up the side of the shoddy building, pausing to look down.
As the dwarf watched from atop the platform, Kalen grasped his left arm, gritted his teeth, and tried to still his raging heart.
"Wait, Helm," he demanded, calling upon his dead god. "They need me."
"Still you refuse ro fall," said the dwarf. He stood, in perfect balance on the platform railing. "What admirable valor-foolish, but admirable."
The groan of buckling wood warned of danger, and the supports of the platform splintered and collapsed. The dwarf launched himself again, flipping and sailing through the air-leaving behind a collapsing storm of wood, stone, and water.
Kalen barely threw himself aside before the shack shattered against the narrow ledge, which itself started splintering. Choking on dust, he tumbled backward.
Rath was there, sword dancing like a steel whip, and it was more luck than skill that let Kalen block. He parried with his offhand, but the sword screeched against his blade and wedged the dirk free-it spun off into the cavern. Rath stabbed, but Kalen kicked his feet out from under him. The dwarf scrambled away before Kalen could get Vindicator in line.
"This will end only one way," Rath said.
He leaped out into the cavern and Kalen jumped after him, falling toward a sea of Downshadow folk who had joined in pursuit of the two crazed duellists. The dwarf bore down on one orc-blooded man and raced across the heads and backs of several others. Kalen crashed down in a knot of folk, sending three or four to the ground, then pushed himself up. He shoved his way through the crowd, holding Vindicator high and muscling the folk aside.
"Move, citizens!" he cried. "Waterdhavian Guard! Stand aside!"
That might not have been the best cry, for several lumbering forms-stirred by anger against that very organization-moved to block his path.
"Damn." Kalen bent his aching legs and sprang up.
His boots carried him up and over the intervening figures, following Rath. He landed badly and stumbled to the cavern floor, face first. Vindicator slipped free, but he recovered it in a roll to his feet. He charged after Rath, who was heading along the corridors toward the Grim Statue. Not attacking-just fleeing. Luring him.
Gods, Kalen thought-was he going toward the place where he'd hidden Fayne and Myrin?
Kalen burst into the plaza just as the statue's hands started glowing. He saw Rath standing before the statue, smiling. The dwarf sheathed his sword and spread his hands.
Whatever Downshadowers had been chasing them stopped at the edge of the cursed plaza, loathe to run into a trap.
With a grunt, Kalen charged.