And following an Utrun-cloven tunnel, on westerly the Warrows went, Chelk leading, Tholon coming after, sealing the stone behind, Tipperton now carrying Farly's body over his shoulder, sharing the burden with Beau.
While under the raging waters, Daagor bellowed, flame blasting upward, the Dragon's bulk and great leathery wings pinned by unnumbered tons of mountainous stone lying atop him.
And a vast wave, hundreds of feet high, thundered in through the immense gap, hurling across the floor of the rift, the sea at last free to engulf the basin within, and it swept down upon the mighty Swarm, crashing over shrieking Rucks and Hloks and squealing Helsteeds and howling Ghuls. Trolls yawled in terror as they were swept under, their massive bones dragging them down. Gargons, too, plunged below the roaring billows, their own solidity dooming them.
And Modru's chariot was swept away, tumbling and lashing under the flood.
And another great slab crashed inward, more and more sea thundering after.
And the great waves crashed onto and over the ramp, sweeping Elves, Dwarves, Baeron, men, horses, ponies, and land away, the living and the dead, the wounded and the hale, ally and foe alike… though most of the Allies yet hale had withdrawn at the signal, had survived, some fleeing upward bearing wounded, all but barely ahead of the whelming deluge.
But lower down on the slope, none of the foe escaped.
And now the stone at the westerly end of the shield wall split open, and a giant emerged, Warrows following after. And when the Wee Folk had all come out, the Utrun went back into the crevice, sealing the stone behind.
Tipperton eased Farly's body to the ground and then stood with the others and watched the vast inundation.
And the air roared with the sound of water thundering in.
Even though he could not be heard by the others, his voice lost in the bellow, Beau stood on the rim and chanted:
"Seek the aid of those not men
To quench the fires of war,
Else Evil triumphant will ascend
And rule forevermore."
It was Rael's rede, at last its meaning clear, and Beau looked at Tipperton and received a grim nod in return, for now they both knew that somehow all was connected.
And then Beau turned to Linnet to find that she was weeping, and he took her in his arms to comfort her. And she leaned into Beau and said, "Oh, beloved, my Nix, our Nix, is lost forever beneath this flood." Though Beau did not hear her above the thunderous shout, he embraced her and stroked her hair.
At Tipperton's side Rynna's eyes widened, horrified, and Tipperton turned to see "No! No! I didn't mean for this to happen!" Tip's voice lost under the roar
– Fjordlander Dragonships come rushing through the gap, frantic crews yet aboard, the ships to roll and whip and thrash and finally plunge under the raging water, wooden shields, masts, sails, hull, men, all to vanish from sight in the thundering flow.
In the port of Adeo some twenty-five miles away, the huge Gothonian vessels swung about at anchor, some to drag their great drogue irons across the bottom ere catching to come to a halt.
And another great slab of shield wall toppled inward, ~ and still more sea rushed in.
And down in the rift, hurling water smashed over all, pouring down into vast chasms and onto the burning lava below, the sea to flash into vapor and explode upward, great thunderous blasts jolting the air. And still geysers spewed steaming water up through the ice-cold, inrushing sea, while bubbling mud pits were swept into the torrent along with sulfurous melt, to turn the flow dark and sickly.
Shattered black stone and shards of crystal were swept up and borne northwesterly, along with the tumbling bodies of drowned Rucks and Hloks and Ghuls and Helsteeds and Trolls and Gargons, the water cascading them along the bottom, smashing, bludgeoning, rending the corpses as it thundered along to plunge down a mile-deep slope and into the wide depths below.
And beneath a great slab along the remnants of the shield wall, Daagor drowned, screaming in rage and fury and blasting flame even as he died.
And easterly, another slab fell into the basin, the shield wall now nearly all destroyed, the Avagon Sea roaring in triumph as it hurtled inward at last.
And still the water poured in, steam and detonations erupting upward from the bottom below.
And the High King looked on the rage and fury, Modru and his great Swarm gone, Daagor nowhere to be seen, the Hyrinians and Chabbains and Kistanians, the Fists of Rakka, the Throng of Jung, all were drowned.
Drowned, too, were some of the Allies-Dwarves, men, Elves, Baeron-those who had not been high enough up the slope when that first massive wave had struck, all casualties in this strife. King Blaine looked rightward where in the near distance four Wee Folk stood and one lay unmov-ing on the ground, and at this sight Blaine buried his face in his hands and sank to his knees and wept, bereavement sweeping over him, for so many friends, so many comrades, so many allies had died. Yet he wept in relief as well, for by unexpected stroke the battle was ended…
… And so too was ended the war.
Chapter 39
Eight days later, when the host was finally ready to depart the environs of H?l's Crucible, the waters of the Avagon Sea yet rushed in through the gap where the shield wall once had been, but its thunder had abated, diminishing throughout the days as the great rift had begun to fill. And here nigh the place where once had stood a wall, Tip and Beau, Rynna and Linnet, gazed down from above.
"Lor', but I never thought I'd ever look upon the making of a new sea," said Beau. "What do you think they'll call it?"
"H?l's Ocean, I shouldn't wonder," replied Tipperton, pointing, where erupting upward came a blast of water, driven by an explosion far below.
"Farrin says the Utruni are going to calm the land," said Rynna, "working far below in the living stone to bring it all to rest. That's what they do, you know."
"There is fire down there, molten rock," came a gravelly voice from behind. It was Bekki. "The Stone Giants will be hard-pressed to work in a place little different from the bowels of a firemountain, a deadly dangerous place to be."
"Not anywhere I'd like to hang my hat," said Beau, hugging Linnet close.
"I came to say it is time to go," said Bekki.
Tip looked at Rynna and Linnet, then said, "We'll be right along."
Bekki nodded and turned and walked back toward the campsite.
Tip took a deep breath. "Well?"
Linnet nodded, then stepped to the rim and looked out on the forming sea. "Good-bye, Dinly. Good-bye, Nix." Linnet turned to look at the nearby cairn, but one among thousands. "Good-bye, Farly. May Elwydd hold you three in Her hand along with Alver, too."
Rynna, her shoulder healed by Mage Letha, stepped to the lip of what was once H?l's Crucible, and she held Tip-perton's bow, a red-shafted arrow fitted to string. Tipperton stepped up beside her, and he struck a lantern-striker to the woven red collar below the arrow head, and when it flared to life, Rynna drew the shaft to the full and let the arrow fly. Up it arced and up, loosed by an Elven bow, a phosphorescent streak running up through the clear dawn sky; far out above the waters it sailed, finally to arc over and down and down, to plunge at last into the dark flux of the inflowing sea.
"Good-bye, Alver and Dinly and Nix and Farly," she said, weeping. "We will hold you ever in our hearts."
Choking back tears, Tipperton and Beau stepped to their dammias, and taking them by the hand, slowly they trudged toward the host.
They fared back through the craggy hills and over the Dragonboat bridge. And when all the host had crossed over, the bridge was dismantled.
They rode to Caer Pendwyr in a fleet of Dragonships, did the wee Warrows, along with many of the captains and kings, along with DelfLords and corons and chieftains and other warleaders.
Many more would come by the great Gothonian ships, while still others rode northerly and away, away toward Jord and Riamon and Mineholt North. Still even more fared westerly, striking for the Greatwood and Darda Ery-nian and Darda Galion and Kraggen-cor and Arden Vale beyond, or striking for Pellar and Valon and Jugo and Hoven. But many waited in the port of Adeo, waited for ships to come and take them to Tugal and Vancha and Basq, to Gelen and Gothon, some to sail to ports along the Ryngar Arm of the Weston Ocean, where they would disembark for Trellinath and Wellen, Dalara and Thol, or to ride through these lands to the Jillian Tors and Rian.