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… for what? None of the Wee Folk could say.

"Have you come to help?" called Tip.

Reacting in surprise, the Utruni turned toward Tipper-ton's voice, their gemstone stares searching for whoever had called out.

One of the Stone Giants spoke to the others, his voice deep, his words sounding somewhat like rock sliding upon rock, the others replying in the same tongue.

"Hiyo," called Tip, waving his arms. "I'm here."

With eyes like large diamonds, the greatest of the giants, pale buff in color, peered down toward the buccan, and in an eld form of Common said, "Ah, seest thee, ae naow do. Vapour ephemeral thou dost loken. Be ae riht: there be feower of ye?"

The grey Utrun shook its head. "Nae, Tholon. They be fif." The giant pointed down at Farly's body.

"Are you asking if we are four?" called Tip. "Asking if we are five?"

The one called Tholon cocked its head and then said, "Aye, though ye seemeth summat more solide than many who dwellen aboven, we be not want to stepe an ye."

"We must be difficult for them to see," said Rynna.

"Mage Farrin did say they can look right through solid stone," said Beau.

"Farrin?" said the grey Utrun. "Ye knowen Farrin?"

Beau nodded.

Again the giant asked. "Ye knowen Farrin?"

"Yes," called Tipperton, realizing that the Utrun could not see Beau's nod. "We do know Farrin. He is a friend and in dire straits, as are we all."

"Farrin didst techen we this dwer tunge," said the buff-hued giant, Tholon. Then he cocked his head and asked, "But who be ye?"

Tipperton stepped forward. "I am Tipperton Thistledown, and my companions are Rynna Thistledown and Beau and Linnet Darby"-Tipperton looked out at the rift, where Modru's seething Swarm boiled toward the ramp- "and we desperately need help."

The rudden giant pointed at Farly's body. "Thou hast nama feower, but ye be fif."

Tipperton's eyes teared, and he said, "The one lying there is slain. His name was Farly Bourne."

As one, the Stone Giants looked at Farly and made a clenching gesture with their right hands. And then the buff-colored Utrun turned to Tipperton and said, "Ae hight Tholon. Thaes be Orth, Flate, Umac, Chelk, Sidon, and Drit."

At the naming of each, without conscious thought Tipperton noted their gemstone eyes: sapphire, emerald, peridot, another emerald, ruby, and topaz, in addition to Tholon's diamond.

When Tholon fell silent, Tipperton, a plea in his voice, said, "Again I ask, did you come to help?"

"We be yet nae deciden Friend Tipperton," replied Orth.

"Oh, but you must help," implored Beau, gesturing out at the oncoming Swarm. "I mean, if you don't, then Gy-phon will rule all, for Modru has come with his minions, and they are many and terrible and in numbers we cannot defeat: Rucks, Hloks, Vulgs, Ghuls on Helsteeds, Trolls, Gargons, and a Dragon."

"Se Drake?" asked Flate, pointing into the sky.

"It is Daagor," said Rynna.

Tipperton looked at her. "Daagor? The renegade? Daagor who vies with Black Kalgalath to be the greatest Dragon of all?"

Rynna nodded. "At the parley, Lord Tain-Modru- named him so."

"What does it matter?" said Beau, despairing. "Daagor, Skail, Sleeth, whoever, still it is a Dragon, a thing we cannot hope to defeat."

Tip, Beau, Rynna, Linnet: all turned to look upon the Drake high above… and then down at the rift below.

On the long slope the battle yet raged, Dwarves, Elves, Baeron, men, hewing and piercing and stabbing and bashing and crushing, shouting battle cries and calling out Adon! and Elwydd! and Fyrra! Calling out Gyphon! and

Rakka! Calling out Blaine! and Modru! All while slaughtering one another.

"Oh my! Look there!" cried Linnet as the battle swirled. And in the midst of the clangor and chaos, great Bears raged, claws and teeth rending and tearing.

The Warrows looked at one another in wonderment, for how could such a thing be? And then Rynna said, "There is a legend 'round the Baeron…"

"Oh lor'," said Beau, "that's right. Some Baeron are said to turn into Bears… that, or Wolves."

They turned and looked back, but the snarl of battle had come in between and the huge Bears could no longer be seen. And as one, both Tip and Beau looked out on the basin below, and there they found Silver Wolves whirling in melee with Vulgs, slaughtered black creatures lying all 'round.

And then their gazes were drawn rightward, where across the floor of the rift came Modru in his iron mask, a troika of Helsteeds drawing his chariot, his vast Swarm churning after, Gargons and Trolls in their seething midst.

As the Warrows looked on at the overwhelming defeat at hand, behind them the great Stone Giants held rumbled converse in that sliding-rock tongue of theirs, and finally Tholon said, "Aye, we willa helpan. Yet ye seeth betera thanne we: hwaer best to aiden?"

"Are you saying that you cannot see the great Swarm coming?" asked Tip.

"Aye. Se Trollth and Graegoni we seeth well; se Drake, too; 'twaes thaem we traked to this plaece hwil trieneth to deciden. Se rest be as vague as vapours."

"Oh, Tip," groaned Linnet, "there are too many Trolls for them to fight. Too many Gargons, too. And the Dragon, well, can even a Stone Giant tackle such a foe?"

"Argh!" said Beau. "Even though the Alliance holds the high ground, the Utruni have come too late, for the tide of battle is lost before the flood of Modru's forces." He turned and pounded his fist into the sheer stone, and said "We're nought but insignificant flies on this wall. There's no way-"

"That's it, Beau!" shouted Tipperton. "You've got it!"

"I what?" said Beau, wheeling 'round to look at Tipper-ton, but that buccan had turned to the giants.

***

In the midst of the melee arcane waves of fear washed over the combatants, for the Gargons were nearing and affecting all. Even so the battle raged on, for wrath and revenge and hatred and desperation powered the arms of ally and enemy alike.

And high on the slope King Blaine was tended by healers drawing a crossbow bolt from his forearm, the shaft having punched through shield and armor alike.

"Swift now," gritted the King, "for I must return to battle."

At his side stood Mage Farrin, and nearby pacing back and forth strode Linde, the Warrior Maiden anxious to rejoin the melee below.

"They can't hear me, can't hear me at all above the roar of battle," raged Tip, his black-oxen horn in hand, the buc-can looking up at Tholon, the only Utrun left. "We cannot do it if they hear me not." Dejected, Tipperton turned to Rynna and said, "I might as well be whispering, for all the good it did."

Rynna peered out across the floor of the rift-Modru's Swarm now closing in on the ramp. Then she looked at the battle above, and groaning in defeat she spun toward the wall. Suddenly her eyes widened, and she whispered, "Sur Kolare." Spinning toward Tipperton, she shouted, "I have it, Tip: Sur Kolare! Whisper Hollow!"

Tipperton spread his hands. "But how can-?"

"Tholon will do it!" declared Rynna. She sighted a boulder at hand, then called to the Stone Giant and stepped to the barrier. "Can you shape the stone of the wall here before this boulder, hollow it out, cup it 'round concave, so its form would just embrace yon ramp were it to extend that far? A wide section I mean, fifty feet across and half as deep?"

Glancing at the ramp and then at the sheer barrier, Tholon stepped 'round the boulder and to the wall and with his great hands began shaping the stone, rock flowing under his touch. Remembering the contour of Sur Kolare, Rynna watched closely and called out to the giant just how to curve the arc of the hollow being formed.