They rode another mile, and then Bekki said, "Aye, Tipperton, yet think: if the sound reaches all the way to the walls of the world to echo again and again, then what a terrible blast it must have been."
As Tip stood the midwatch, just ere mid of night, another faint thunder grumbled. Another echo from the walls of the world? That or the sound ringing 'round.
Onward they rode, and in late morn of the third day from Dendor, Tip thought he heard a very dim echo of the boom again, yet he couldn't be sure.
"I say, Bekki, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"The sound, so weak as to be all but silent."
Bekki shook his head.
They rode a bit farther, then Tip said, "A final echo from the walls of the world, do you think?"
"That, or distant thunder," replied Bekki, then he looked at the clear July day and shook his head and the two of them rode onward.
On the fourth day out from Dendor, Tip looked up at the sky and said, "Ho, Bekki. Does it seem to you that the day isn't as bright as it ought to be?"
Bekki nodded. "Aye, though I see no mist, no fog, no clouds."
But as they fared west, the light diminished, as if the sun itself somehow weakened.
That evening, a layer of clouds began to form high above.
"There is our answer," said Bekki.
"Answer?"
"Aye. It is preparing to rain."
"And…?"
"And the light grew dimmer and dimmer today as the rain started gathering above," declared Bekki.
"Perhaps," said Tip, uncertain.
They rode awhile in silence, then Bekki said, "There is a thicket ahead where we can camp."
But Tip was staring beyond the thicket at the cloud-filled sky made bloodred by the setting sun, and a shiver went down his spine.
It began to rain in the night, and when Tip was awakened for the midwatch, Bekki said, "There is something strange about this rain, Tipperton."
"Oh?"
"Aye. The drops are cloudy."
"Cloudy?"
In the lanternlight Bekki held out a tin cup filled with rainwater.
Tip looked. "Lor', Bekki, it's cloudy all right, positively dusty looking. What do you think it means?"
Bekki shook his head. "That, my friend, I do not know."
It rained throughout the night, and continued the next morning, and by the noontide the drops falling on the ponies and cloaks left long smears behind.
"Adon, Bekki, but it's raining mud."
"More like rain through rock dust," replied Bekki.
"Rain through rock dust?"
"Aye. In the quarries, when it rains, it leaves long grey smears like these."
"But how would rock dust get up in the sky? I mean, are there quarries nearby?"
Bekki shook his head. "None I know of. -Even if there were, by this time all the rock dust would have been washed from the air, yet this is still coming down."
On they rode through a rain falling stone-grey.
The next day dawned to a breathtaking sunrise, the entire vault shifting in stages from indigo to violet to lavender to a bloodred to peach, and then the sun rose in a pale grey-blue sky. Still the morning seemed wan, in spite of the striking dawn.
The day itself grew darker as westerly they rode, as of a grey curtain being drawn up from the west and riding over the sky above.
"Adon, Bekki, but do you think it more dust? Rock dust?"
"Aye, riding on the high winds, it is."
"Gray on grey it is," said Tipperton, turning about. "Running over the sky, behind as well as ahead."
All morning the grey deepened, and by midafternoon it was as if dusk had come, and the sun was dim in the sky.
And then rock dust began to drift down like snow on a July day, coating all things with a layer of pale grey.
"We need cover our mouths with cloth," said Bekki, "and cloth over the noses of the ponies, too."
"I'll do it," said Tip, dismounting. And pulling some of the linen from the sacks, he ripped seven wide strips, gaining the swathes needed to cover the noses of the ponies and Bekki and himself. "Lor', Bekki, lor', what can be the cause?"
"I have never seen such ere now, Tipperton, though I have heard that firemountains at times belch out such dust, or so say the old tales."
"Firemountains, eh?" said Tipperton, glancing into the darkening sky. "I've heard of them but have never seen one. Is there a firemountain nearby?"
"The nearest I know of is Dragonslair in the Grimwall Mountains," replied Bekki, "though I do not think it the cause of this."
"Why not? I mean, if it is a firemountain-"
"The winds are wrong," said Bekki. "This rock dust comes from the west, whereas Dragonslair is far to the east of Kachar, east of Dendor, a thousand miles or more. Too, I am told the fire of that mountain does not burn, though wisps of steam are said to flow into the sky now and again."
"Oh," said Tip, now tying a cloth over his own mouth and nose. "By the bye, just why is it called Dragonslair?"
"It is said that Black Kalgalath holes up in that mountain," said Bekki.
"Black Kalgalath? Isn't he the greatest Dragon of all?"
"Mayhap it's Daagor instead," replied Bekki, now binding a cloth across his face.
"Daagor the renegade?"
Bekki grunted, tying a knot behind.
"I suppose that's neither here nor there," said Tip, his voice a bit muffled by the covering. "Instead, if this is caused by a firemountain somewhere downwind, just which firemountain could it be? Are there such in Gron? Rian? Or farther still in distant Dalara or even beyond in Thol?"
Bekki shook his head. "The only one west I have heard of is Karak on the Isle of Atala, but that is somewhere in the Weston Ocean and far, far removed from here-four thousand miles in the least. Too far I would think to be the cause of this."
Mouths and noses covered, Bekki and Tip donned their all-weather cloaks and mounted the ponies and began riding west through the drifting down dust, and after a while, Tip said, "Tell me, Bekki, what causes firemountains to spew?"
Bekki shrugged. "I know not, though some have said the earth shudders when firemountains roar, yet whether the shudder causes the roaring or the roaring causes the shudder, I cannot say."
They rode another mile before Bekki said, "I suppose the Stone Giants would know."
"Know what?"
"What causes firemountains to spew," replied Bekki.
"Oh," said Tip, brushing rock dust from his shoulders and thighs, a losing effort at best. "You know, until the Mages talked about them in Dendor, I always thought Stone Giants a myth."
"Not so, Tipperton. Not so," said Bekki. "Did I not say that First Durek was saved by the Utruni, the Stone Giants?"
Tip turned up his hands. "I thought it but a tale grown tall in the telling and becoming legend o'er time."
Bekki barked a laugh. "If that were so, then Kraggen-cor would not have been discovered."
"Oh?"
"Aye. First Durek-"
"First Durek? This is Breakdeath Durek, right?"
Bekki nodded. "Aye, we call him that. Deathbreaker Durek, too."
"Why do you call him 'Deathbreaker'?"
"Recall, Tipperton, we Chakka believe that after death, spirits are reborn to walk the earth again, some more often than others. The spirit of First Durek is one which breaks the bonds of Death often."
"Oh, I see. Well then, go on with the tale of the Stone Giants and Durek and Kraggen-cor."
Bekki cleared his throat. "First Durek was exploring in the Grimwalls when he was assaulted by a band of Grg. Howling in glee, from a high stone ledge they flung him into the Vorvor and-"