One of the shots was so true that it hit a ball in mid-flight. Flames consumed the sphere as if it had been soaked in petroleum; Ireheart heard the sizzling and crackling sound it made.
The casing turned to ash in the blink of an eye, releasing countless long-legged spider-like creatures the size of small dogs; they rained down, already fully aflame, crashing to the ground and causing a shower of sparks.
Most were destroyed by the fire, but three survived. They raced toward the bastion on their hairy legs, their long mandibles clicking and clacking.
The remaining spheres landed and bounced a few times before bursting open to let more of the little beasts escape. The arrows fired at them found no hold on their chitin plating.
Boindil cursed. “Use the spears…”
“General, they’re reloading,” shouted the ubari, prompting Ireheart to turn to the front again. The slender throwing device was being attached to the chains once more and pulled back toward the ground.
“Goda, destroy that thing,” said Ireheart. “Or we’ll never be able to cope with these animals. Who knows how many cocoons they have waiting to send out.”
The dwarf-woman nodded and took the telescope to have a closer look at the sling mechanism. Otherwise she would not be able destroy it with her magic spell. With her other hand she groped in her bag for the diamond fragments and pulled one of them out. Before she exhausted her own store of energy it would be better to use the strength left in the splinters.
Goda sent out a destruction spell directed at the upper edge of the cliff wall of the ravine. Dazzling lightning shot from her hand and screamed into the stone, breaking off boulders to crash to the depths. Then came the sounds of things falling followed by cries of dismay from inside the ravine. The beasts had lost their new weapon and presumably some of their fighters as well.
Goda felt the splinter of diamond in her hand crumble into dust, which clung to her fingers.
“Well done,” said Ireheart. He realized that Tungdil had been correct. They would have to force the monsters away from the ravine mouth, and then bring the whole cliff down on top of them. Bringing down whole mountains-who could do that kind of thing better than his own folk?
Suddenly he heard the clank of weaponry.
Boindil looked along the walkway to his left and saw that the spider creatures had climbed the fortress walls.
The ubariu, undergroundlings, humans and dwarves were fighting them with all their strength, but what he saw made Boindil doubt that the creatures could be subdued easily. Only heavy weapons such as axes, cudgels and morning stars were having any effect on the hardened body cases. Swords were useless, ending up blunt and damaged.
“We need Vraccas to crush them with his hammer!” A glance to Goda was enough-she turned to the fight, her first since the building of the fortress.
She took another diamond fragment into her hand, preparing herself to hurl another spell, but suddenly a flash came from the right side of the Black Abyss. Where the steep slopes fell away almost vertically, a figure stood, casting a sulphur-yellow ball of pure magic in the dwarf-woman’s direction.
The ubari had noticed the threatened danger and warned her with a shout.
She managed to form a barrier in front of the battlements so that the missile of magic crashed and exploded against it. A pressure wave whirled up the dust in front of the gate, obscuring their view of the Black Abyss, shields, helmets, flags and banners flying through the air as if in a hurricane. They would not be able to see a second wave of attackers approach.
“By the creator! Now evil has a magus on its side!” Ireheart coughed, pulling up his neck cloth to cover mouth and nose. “I call that a proper challenge!” He heard triumphant cheers resounding from the ramparts, and he peered through the veil of dust.
Tungdil was standing with the defenders, thrashing away at the spider creatures with Bloodthirster. His weapon smashed through the chitin armor plating of the insects, hurling their innards in all directions. Bluey-green blood spattered everywhere. Tungdil had taken off his helmet so that all the soldiers could see him.
The hero marched forward grimly, confronting the spider creatures, the inlay on his black armor flashing and glowing by turns. One of the beasts threw itself at him from behind, touching him with two of its legs, and instantly there was a loud bang, the creature exploding as if it had been detonated from within.
Boindil gulped. Exactly that fate could have been his own end.
The warriors sprang back into combat with renewed vigor. Tungdil gave short commands and steered their counterattack better than any dwarf-king ever commanded his army. Ireheart had to hand it to him. He was already playing with the idea that he might pass command of the fortress to his friend-if he would accept it, of course.
The wavering veil of dirt and dust was starting to settle, allowing the fortress troops a view of the Black Abyss. Goda had a defense spell at the ready.
They were all astonished to find there was a new energy sphere in place over the abyss. It had an uneven reddish shimmer, seeming thicker here and there. But this time the edges reached nearly up to the four gates and the walls.
“Was that you?” Ireheart stared at Goda.
“No,” she replied in surprise. She could still feel the fragment of diamond between her fingers. “It must be the enemy’s magus.”
Tungdil came up to them. He was accompanied by frenetic cheers and shouts and the thundering of weapons on shields. He was not remotely out of breath after his exertions.
Goda did not look at him, pretending instead that she had to keep her eyes on the Black Abyss. Ireheart stretched out his hand in welcome. “Excellent stuff, Scholar! Excellent! Like old times! Vraccas can be proud of you, just as I am!”
“Very flattering. In the old days I wasn’t anything like as good,” he responded with a curt smile, before turning to watch the pulsing red shield, his face draining of all color.
“Goda reckoned you’d gone straight off to Girdlegard and left us high and dry,” Ireheart continued, moving to his friend’s side. “Praise be to Vraccas that you stayed. Who knows how the orbit would have ended otherwise.”
“The orbit isn’t over yet. Let’s see how useful I can be to Evildam.” Tungdil ignored Goda totally and stepped forward to the parapet to observe the energy dome, turning to his friend. “It’s worse than I thought,” he confided. “We must travel to Girdlegard at once.”
“I’m glad you’ve changed your mind about helping…” began Boindil; then he paused, rubbing his silvery black beard. He didn’t understand quite what Tungdil had meant. “Why do we have to go there? Here’s where the threat is! And, by Vraccas, a threat indeed!”
“A threat you can do nothing about,” replied Tungdil quietly. “Not you, not Goda and not me.”
“But…” began Ireheart helplessly.
Tungdil beckoned him over and pointed to the ravine. “They will gather under the protection of the barrier, right up to its edges; no one will be able to stop them,” he predicted. “They’ll build towers and ladders at their leisure; they’ll make battering rams and put them in position. The whole of the plain at all four points of the compass will be swarming with those cruel beasts. Then the dome will go and they’ll attack.” He placed his hand on Ireheart’s shoulder. “You took immense trouble constructing Evildam, Boindil, and it is a proud fortress, but it will fall.” He stretched out the hand that held Bloodthirster. “They have someone on their side I thought was long dead. We need a magus to combat him. And, from what I hear, only Lot-Ionan could do that.”
“But Lot-Ionan is evil,” retorted Goda. “He no longer serves the cause of good.”
“Exactly. That’s why we need him,” said Tungdil gently, looking at her; she dropped her gaze to hide her guilty conscience.