Still, Gretchan kept her feet and sensed the movement as a steady, stable force. She held firm in her position upon the crest of the hill, with Brandon, Sadie, and Peat huddling nearby. It was clear to all by then that they were not falling.
Instead, they were being borne upward, lifted by the power of her immortal god.
Tarn and Crystal led a mass procession of dwarves out of Norbardin and down the Urkhan Road. When they reached the terminus, at the shore of the sea, they found hundreds of dwarves already thronging there, staring out over the underground lake. Whispered word of their arrival spread, and the crowd parted to allow the king and queen to move down near the edge of the water, though none dared venture onto the wharf because it was steadily inundated by the fierce, unnatural waves that pounded against the shore.
At first, Tarn thought they were seeing a place exposed to daylight, and he wondered if the whole top of the mountain had been shorn away. Very quickly he determined that the brilliance came from three distinct fires, places where the rocky ceiling of the cavern was being consumed by a foul, yellow fire that seemed to cut right through the stone. The brilliance was intense and surreal, surrounded by thick and churning smoke. The smell of sulfur and brimstone was thick in the air, and he had a terrible flashing memory of the Chaos War, when the fires had been living things, a scourge of destruction sweeping through Thorbardin.
And in that light, he saw movement in the center of the lake. He wondered if it were a volcanic eruption, some kind of disaster that sent the Isle of the Dead exploding upward. For that was what they witnessed: a movement of solid ground, an upthrust of the rocky knob climbing away from the water, rising toward the ceiling of the massive cavern. It was the whole island, and it was moving upward, away from the lake and into the air.
But it was not an explosion, and it was not flying; it was a true, living growth. Solid rock supported the upper surface, like a shaft of green plant shooting upward to seek the sun. The rock continued to grow, emerging from the water, pushing higher and higher through the vault of the great cavern. The yellow fires on the ceiling smoked and smoldered in the face of such power, but those blazes were corrupt, and they were dying, as the rising stone pillar was genuine, no illusion, and it was pure.
The rocky, shattered island continued to be elevated into the air, borne upward by a massive pillar of rock that emerged from the lake, lifting it ever higher. Water gushed away from it in a steady cascade, a churning whitewash of foam and current. It spilled down the sides of the stone surface, and it churned and tossed around the base, radiating outward with the force of huge waves. The swells struck the shores of the sea and rolled back upon themselves until the whole surface of the water was tossed like a gale-swept ocean, waves colliding and crashing, spray flying, breakers smashing against the shore.
And the force that caused the storm was not a natural pillar of stone, the king realized, as more water spilled away from the exposed rock and the pillar continued to grow, rising hundreds of feet above the lake, with water draining away enough that the watchers could make out details. Dwarves began to mutter or pray or shout in reverence and awe. For they all knew they were witnessing a miracle, the real power of their deity, the Father God of All Dwarves, giving his people a great and wonderful gift.
Crystal gripped Tarn’s hand tightly, and together, barely daring to believe, they made out the outlines of wide porticos and columned balconies, as pure and pristine as if they had just been carved by master craftsmen. Buildings and platforms came into view, with rows of windows and ornate, marbled vantages swiftly drying as the water spilled away. Tarn scarcely dared to believe it as he saw the outline of his father’s palace, the wonderful edifice near to the top of the city that had been destroyed during the Chaos War.
And it was coming into being again, all immaculate, still rising, with the top of the island pressing ever higher, toward the ceiling of the cavern. Where that ceiling had started to sag, weakened by the three fires of corruption, it would be supported, stronger than ever, by the might of the renewed stone pillar.
Tarn realized what was happening, though he scarcely dared to believe it. But he recognized the truth, and he spoke that truth to his wife:
“By the power of Reorx,” he murmured. “The Life-Tree is restored!”
Brandon was swept away by a sense of wonder-amazement at his own survival, at Willim’s death, and at the power of the god, made manifest in Gretchan’s prayer. He knew they rose higher and higher, and very rapidly at that, but the movement was so smooth that he didn’t even feel any difficulty in standing or maintaining his balance. They were drawing closer to the vile, yellow fires that had burned into the ceiling, but those infernal sores were being gradually doused, defeated by the glory of Reorx.
“The teeth of the dragon are no match for the power of our god,” Gretchan told him, and though he had no idea what dragon she was referring to, he was willing to acknowledge that the power of their growing pillar of stone was the most awe-inspiring display of force he had ever seen.
He became aware of a new problem, one that would affect only the four of them who happened to be on the Isle of the Dead as the miracle transpired. The surface of the lake was far below them as the pillar of rock continued to grow. The ceiling over them was very close and coming ever closer. They could look up and see the cracks and fissures in the roof, and it seemed clear that the pillar would continue to rise until the two surfaces met. That meeting would save Thorbardin, for the pillar would support the roof and prevent the catastrophic collapse that had seemed so imminent.
But it might be very bad news for the four dwarves standing on top of the pillar.
“Do something!” Sadie screamed. “We’ll be crushed!” She rushed toward Gretchan, but both Peat and Brandon seized her and pulled her away from the priestess.
“Sit still, woman!” Peat barked. “Can’t you see she’s doing the best miracle she knows how to do?”
“It may be the will of Reorx that we die here,” Gretchan replied calmly. “The pillar is rising, and it will support the dome of the mountaintop. But to do that, it must reach the ceiling. I would prefer to give my life to this cause rather than to have my death serve as entertainment for the black wizard. May Reorx’s will be done.”
“At least we can look for shelter,” Brandon pointed out, touching Gretchan on the shoulder. “Here, let’s find a niche or a crevasse where we might have a chance.”
A quick survey revealed a wide crack, just past the crest where the cage had been.
“A lot of good that will do,” Sadie said sourly. “So we suffocate instead of getting crushed.”
“Choose your poison,” Brandon said. In another minute he brought Gretchan, Sadie, and Peat to the edge and helped each of them climb down. The gap was narrow, only a couple of feet wide, but it was also more than eight feet deep. The four of them huddled there, feeling the mountain shudder around them, the pillar of rock continuing to rise.
Soon they could see the cavern ceiling in complete detail. It was close enough to strike with a thrown rock. The four of them ducked instinctively. Then there came a solid thunk, and the movement ceased. Rock spilled and gravel tumbled into the crack around them. It was completely dark and utterly still.
“But the Urkhan Sea is saved,” Gretchan said. “Glory be to Reorx.”
“Glory may be,” Sadie said sourly. “But it looks like we’re trapped in here. I wonder how long it will be until our air runs out.”