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The Lyric stopped where the tunnel rose sharply upward toward the center of the dome. A great, jet-black stain swept from one side of the tunnel to the opposite wall where some of the mud had melted into dark glass. “Here he saw the first of them-a robed elven hunter whose magic was killing the Hak’kaarin in terrible numbers. Seeing the gnomes being murdered thus, at last RuuKag found his warrior’s heart-or perhaps he found a cause for which he could fight.”

At the apex of the stain lay a robed figure missing its head.

“Here, for the first time,” the Lyric said, “RuuKag found the courage to kill.”

The Lyric, her hem now dragging a terrible bloody stain across the floor behind her, stepped up the ramp and into the great open space beneath the center of the dome.

The fires were burning out in the upper levels but still gave all too bright illumination on the grizzly scene. Two sections of habitat walls had collapsus and buried part of the central floor of the common area. The bodies of the dead gnome defenders were a terrible blanket across the floor.

“Where are the children?” Urulani asked.

“What? What children?” Belag growled.

“That’s my point,” Urulani said, her eyes shifting across the mass of the dead. “These are all warrior gnomes. Some men and some women but none of them old-none of them infirm-and there are no children here among the dead.”

“She’s right,” Jugar said in astonishment. “In such a calamity one might expect an even greater number of noncombatants to fall prey to the terrible confusion of war.

“And there’s not enough of the dead,” Belag nodded. “This was terrible, indeed, but even so there are nowhere near enough dead to account for the entire city.”

“He saved them,” the Lyric said simply.

“Who saved them,” Belag asked.

The Lyric pointed again, this time to the far side of the commons.

Belag’s eyes opened wide.

RuuKag-or what was left of him-lay dead against the wall. His eyes were dull and blood stained the corners of his open jaws and his bared teeth. The hair was burned entirely off his left side where the raw red of his muscle was exposed. His right arm hung at an impossible angle, flopping limply over one of the three shafts that pierced his chest.

Next to him was a crumpled form in robes, an elf whose throat had been torn out.

“Elves!” Belag snarled.

“Back again, eh?” The dwarf gritted his teeth.

“Look! There are more of them,” Urulani said, again pointing to various places around the hall. “Four. . six. . wait, there’s one up there, too. Seven of them!”

Belag nodded as he stepped quickly through the carnage to reach RuuKag’s side. He stood over the fallen manticore for a few moments and then reached down and closed his eyes.

“Well fought, brother,” he murmured into RuuKag’s ear. “You’ve proved your heart this day. Your story will be told. . and I will tell it.”

Jugar considered RuuKag for a moment then took in the rest of the dead. “He bought them time. . time to escape.”

“Yes,” Belag said, straightening up. “The rest of the Hak’kaarin are fleeing to the other cities. Within days the story of what happened here will be told from one end of the savanna to the other.”

“I don’t understand,” Urulani said, shaking her head. “Slave hunters have no reason to attack the mud cities. The Hak’kaarin have no possessions worth the attention of any elves and they make terrible slaves.”

“These aren’t slavers,” Belag said, turning suddenly. “This is a full Quorum of the Iblisi-the Inquisitors of the Imperium. They have no interest in gnomes.”

“What do they want then?” Urulani asked. “Why attack this city?”

“Because they thought we were here,” Belag replied. “Because they thought he was here.”

“Drakis?” Urulani sputtered, “All these gnomes destroyed and your friend slaughtered. . just because these elven magicians think your friend is part of this moldy prophecy?”

“Come!” the manticore said as he began moving back toward the tunnel as quickly as the gore-coated floor would allow. “We have to get back. . we have very little time left.”

“Time?” Urulani said with astonishment. “Time for what?”

“Lyric. . uh, Musaran,” Belag called. “You must come and tell this story to Drakis.”

“As a spirit I am above such things,” the Lyric replied.

“Yes, but Drakis is fond of communing with spirits,” Belag continued. “Come quickly. Jugar, Urulani. We must get back at once!”

“Get back?” Urulani was losing her patience. “What about any survivors? What if there are more of those ‘Ubisee’ things around?”

“I tell you that there will be a lot more of those ‘Ubisee things’ around soon enough!” Belag said, stopping at the top of the ramp and turning to face the warrior-woman. “This was a single Quorum, but as soon as the other Quorums get word of what happened here, they’re going to know it was one of us who did this. . and it won’t take them long to figure out that the only way we might have gone is through the Cragsway Pass.”

“And to Nothree,” Jugar said as he nodded.

“They’ve found us,” Belag said. “And our backs are to the sea.”

CHAPTER 43

Relentless

“Where has everyone gone?” Mala asked casually.

“Do I care where everyone has gone?” Drakis answered back, soft warmth in his voice.

They walked as one along the sloping sands of the bay’s shore, their bare feet digging into the residual warmth of the sand as the cool offshore breeze flowed past them. The sun was setting on a perfect day in the first place of peace that Drakis had ever known. The totality of its experience was almost painful to the human warrior who had never known tranquillity-never even had the ability to imagine it. Yet here they were, Mala’s arm wrapped around his waist and his around her shoulders, walking beside the gently lapping waves of Nothree Bay and looking in awe at the encircling mountain peaks, fading to purple under a vibrant orange sky at sunset.

“But I haven’t seen anyone all day,” Mala said.

“What do you mean ‘haven’t seen anyone?’ ” Drakis spoke through a crooked smile. “Look. . over there behind that corsair galley. There’s a whole group of ‘someones’ working on those nets. And just up there. . entirely too many ‘someones’ who are trying to keep those children out from under foot while they cook dinner. The whole village is absolutely lousy with ‘someones.’ ”

Mala slugged him in the chest with the boots in her hand just hard enough so that he would not let go of her. “You’re terrible! That’s not what I meant and you know it. Where’s the dwarf or the Lyric. . or either of the manticores from our old House for that matter?”

“You forgot the chimerian.”

“Well, I’d just as soon forget the chimerian altogether.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

“But seriously, Drakis.” Mala stopped walking, pulling him around to face her just before they came to the beached prow of one of the Sondau ships. “Where are they? Don’t you think it odd that they follow you all this way and then run off without a word to you? They’ve been gone more than a full day now. It’s like they all vanished at once.”

“Mala, stop worrying,” Drakis said, turning toward her and taking her by her shoulders. She looked so beautiful to him in the soft light of the closing day that he nearly forgot what he was about to say. “I spoke with Elder Shasa this morning. He said that most of them went off to try to find RuuKag. . who apparently had gotten it into his mind to return to the Hak’kaarin on his own. No one knows where Ethis went, and to be honest, I’d be just as glad if he remained lost.”

“But, Drakis. .”

“Mala, listen to me. . there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Drakis took her hand and led her higher up the beach just short of the seawall. He gestured for her to sit and then sat next to her as they both looked out over the waters of the bay. The evening was deepening but through the narrow channel that entered the bay between the towering rocks could still be seen the fading remnant of the sunset illuminating the northern horizon.