The stench of the cloud of darkenbeasts assailed the druid as he glided over the bodies of skeletons and zombies and joined with the malign creatures hovering overhead. The darkenbeasts were so numerous that the druid couldn't count them. Hundreds of animals perverted by the Red Wizard, he thought. Galvin fought back a wave of nausea and kept his mind occupied by thinking of Brenna and Wynter.
Several minutes passed… then a half-hour. The druid hoped Wynter was leading the sorceress out of the mine. An hour drifted by, the druid estimated. Then finally part of the cloud separated, and a few dozen of the beasts peeled off and headed down a tunnel. Galvin followed them.
Through a darkened maze of twisting tunnels, the darkenbeasts and the druid flew. In places, they virtually hovered as they navigated sharp turns. The tunnels angled sharply downward, and at one point, it appeared the tunnel ahead had collapsed. The darkenbeasts veered off into a natural chamber to the north, from which the sounds of picks hitting rocks drifted. The druid hovered behind his sorcerous brethren to scrutinize the battered support beams. It appeared they had been hacked through with some kind of weapon. Perhaps that part of the mine was no longer valuable, the druid surmised.
Flying into the natural chamber to catch up with the darkenbeasts, the druid's beak flew open in surprise. The walls of this cavern looked as if they had been painted with gold. The veins were so thick and so close together that little of the rock showed between them. A crew of slave miners was hard at work mining the area.
Beating his wings faster, Galvin caught up with the grotesque flock. The darkenbeasts wound through a series of small chambers, all circled by thick veins of ore. The last chamber they entered was huge-larger even than the one in which the skeletons and zombies had died. Magical orbs of light spaced about the room caused the thick veins to shine and made them look like gold ribbons circling and dancing about the cavern.
All the men working here had long, tangled hair, pale white skin, and bony frames, evidence they had been slaving here for years. They struck at the veins with their picks almost in unison, as if their movements were orchestrated. All but one man, that is. At the far edge of the cavern, standing on a rise of rocks several feet above the chamber floor, was a red-robed man with a mass of black hair and a well-nourished frame. A white skull on a black field gleamed in the magical light. Maligor.
The druid's heart raced.
Galvin hid amidst the group of darkenbeasts, which had begun to circle the chamber. Concentrating, he focused on a knob of rock against the wall behind the Red Wizard. It quivered as the druid mentally shaped it, willing it to come forward. For an instant, the rock trembled, then it shot forward like a fist, striking Maligor solidly in the back.
The Red Wizard fell face forward from his stone pedestal to the floor of the cavern below. The slaves dropped their picks and looked blankly about the chamber. With Maligor unconscious, or perhaps dead, the wizard's control on the slaves was over. Still flying with the darkenbeasts, Galvin watched as the slave miners glanced at the chamber walls, then at Maligor, who appeared to be still breathing. A handful of the slaves grabbed their picks, and for a moment, the druid thought they would begin working on the mines again. But instead the men began to advance toward Maligor, the picks raised above their heads.
Galvin decided he would do nothing to prevent the miners from finishing off the wizard. The druid had intended to kill him anyway.
The nearest slave raised his pick higher, and in a quick, fluid motion brought it down upon the prone body of the Red Wizard. But the pick stopped with a loud thunk inches from the wizard's back, as if it had hit something hard yet unseen.
Galvin watched the miner's mouth drop open in shock as Maligor quickly rolled away from him. In one movement, the Red Wizard leapt to his feet and cast out his hand, sending a bolt of energy into the slave's chest. The slave was hurled backward, a gaping hole burned in the center of his body.
Then the wizard turned his attention to the other slaves.
"Fools!" he shouted. "You all will die for this!" Maligor began twirling his fingers about in the air, and the slaves dropped their picks and whirled to run from the room.
Galvin's path with the darkenbeasts had taken him behind the Red Wizard, who was oblivious to any threat from that direction. Separating from the mass of darkenbeasts, he dove toward the wizard. He slammed his extended claws into Maligor's back, and the Red Wizard fell forward again. The druid continued his flight, rejoining the rest of the darkenbeasts.
The maneuver had bought the slaves time to flee from the chamber, which further infuriated the wizard.
This time when Maligor rose, his black eyes seemed to burn, and a trickle of blood flowed from a broken nose. Galvin decided to press his attack.
Through his pain, Maligor spotted a single darkenbeast heading his way, claws outstretched. The Red Wizard sensed the creature was not one of his own, and he marshaled his powers and pointed a finger at the beast that dared to assault him.
"Die!" the Red Wizard shouted.
Simultaneously Galvin felt a tearing in his gut, an intense torment that rivaled anything he had previously suffered. His darkenbeast form shrieked in response, and he fought to stay conscious and on course. Part of him rebelled and begged him to flee, but the human in him forced himself to concentrate on the Red Wizard and on all the pain the madman had inflicted upon the animals in the tower back in Amruthar.
Maligor's eyes bore into the darkenbeast's, and he raised his hands again, chanting words the druid could not discern. Red darts flashed from his fingers and found their mark in the darkenbeast's breast.
The darkenbeast floundered, struggling to stay aloft under the new wave of misery that shot through his body. Then he dove away from the wizard, losing himself in the cloud of darkenbeasts and hoping the wizard's magic could not reach him there.
Galvin realized he couldn't physically best Maligor; the Red Wizard was far too powerful. A bolt of lightning from the wizard's hand punctuated that sentiment and nearly bisected the druid, missing him by inches and sending a shower of rocks onto the floor below. However, it gave Galvin an idea.
The druid concentrated, focusing on the rocks about the Red Wizard and draining himself to the point of exhaustion. The elder druids who had schooled him a decade ago had taught Galvin how to manipulate the earth in various ways, ways Galvin was loath to use. This was a necessary act, however, and might be the only way to defeat Maligor, he thought.
Galvin's mind sang to the rocks, to the mine, in the words of the first druids. The music poured from him, echoing off the veins and filling the chamber, rising above the beating of the darkenbeasts' wings into a whining, deafening pitch. The dazzling, shrill strain swelled until it became overpowering.
The music continued to pour from the druid, the stone, the very earth. Maligor thrust his hands over his ears, trying to shut out the sound so he could concentrate. But the music was too strong.
As the druid's song became louder still, the cavern wavered and began to groan. The ground quaked under the pressure of the mountain above, which had begun to tremble menacingly.