“That’s twice your hammer’s landed true,” Eralynn said with a wink.
“So what are the activation words?”
“I only said I’d show you a portal, and that I’d let you watch while I used it. You’re not coming through with me.”
“But-”
“The Wyrmcaves are no place to wander around in.”
“Exactly my point,” Torrin said, patting the mace at his hip. “It never hurts to have a second weapon, backing you up. Especially a magical one.”
“This is a solo delve, Torrin,” Eralynn replied. She pointed at the lip of the Rift, far above. “That’s your way back.” She glanced up at the sky. “It will be dark soon. I suggest you wait until morning to make the climb.”
“I’ll wait for you here.”
“No, you won’t,” she said, nodding at the portal. “That’s a one-way portal. I won’t be coming out of it again. The only way back is to hike back through the Deeps. I’ll see you in a few days’ time.”
“But you’ll miss the Festival of Remembering!”
The smile vanished from her eyes. “I prefer to be alone for that. And rest assured, honoring the dead is the observance that I never forget.”
Torrin bowed. “My apologies. I’ve offended you. That was crass of me, to imply that you’d neglect to honor your parents.”
“I may never have known them, but I carry them here,” Eralynn said, touching the heart-shaped glass pendant that hung at her throat. “And here,” she added, touching the spot over her heart. She blinked several times, her eyes glistening.
Torrin bowed again, mortified at having upset her. “Again, my apologies. I trip over my words, it seems, as frequently as an ale-addled longbeard trips over his braid.”
He was relieved to hear Eralynn chuckle. Her fist punched his forearm affectionately. She had, it would seem, forgiven him.
“Let’s just hope your experiment works,” she told him, nodding at the runestone. “I’ve already thought up a list of ruins I’d like to teleport to and explore. A long list.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my part of the bargain,” Torrin said.
“I know,” Eralynn said. “You’re a man of your word. It’s nice to know I can count on that.”
“I’ll see you in a few days’ time, then,” Torrin told her. “Good luck with your delve.”
Eralynn nodded and motioned Torrin back. Then she drew her sword and approached the portal.
Torrin kept glancing back and forth between the runestone and Eralynn as she halted just in front of the portal. He heard her whisper in a voice too low for him to make them out. The tunnel beyond the runes blurred slightly, as though seen through streaked glass. Eralynn stepped in and vanished from sight, the glow on the back of her hands leaving a faint smear of blue static that crackled for a heartbeat, then was gone.
Torrin stared hard at the runestone. But, to his great disappointment, he could see no obvious change in it. He’d hoped that the magic within might be activated by the wash of magical energy from a portal opening, that some sort of henceforth invisible command rune might appear on the runestone’s surface, or that perhaps the runestone might orient itself with a particular compass direction, or some other clue manifest. Yet nothing like that had happened. His experiment had been a failure. And a costly one.
Once again, he was outside the city walls. Once again-for a third time-he’d require a cleansing to get back into Eartheart.
Sharindlar’s clerics were performing cleansings on dwarves at a fee of whatever the dwarf could afford, with the balance of each tithe being paid from the city coffers. Tallfolk, however, had to pay the full cost out of their own pockets. And try as he might, Torrin had yet to convince Sharindlar’s priestesses that he was a dwarf.
Thanks to Kier’s little adventure, Torrin owed the temple for not just one cleansing, but two-the silk ribbons around his wrist were a reminder of that. The second time he’d visited the temple, the clerics had made it clear that credit would not be extended to him a third time. Unless he could figure out how his runestone worked, he’d be stuck outside the gates until he found a way to get the gold from the earthmote.
Lowering the runestone, he walked up to the tunnel mouth tentatively, afraid he might activate the thunderclap that had sounded before. He traced his fingers along the runes. The stone felt cool and weathered, but gave no hint of magical energy. Nor did his runestone.
Had he only been imagining the feel of magic, the day that Kendril had handed it to him? Had Frivaldi been correct in his skepticism about the runestone’s worth?
No, wait. If he concentrated on it, Torrin could feel a tingle against his palm. He moved the runestone a little closer to the opening, and the feeling intensified. Something was definitely happening, although there was no visible change in the runestone. He moved his hand still closer. “Trial and-”
Thunder boomed out of the tunnel, knocking Torrin flat on his back. With his ears ringing and his head aching, he staggered back to his feet. He suddenly realized his hand was empty. The runestone was gone!
“Moradin smite me!” he shouted. At least, he assumed he was shouting. He couldn’t even hear his own voice. Just a throbbing ringing that threatened to split his head like hammer-struck stone. He looked frantically about, but couldn’t spot the runestone anywhere. For one horrified moment, he thought it might have been hurled into the Great Rift. Then he realized where it must be. When the thunderclap had sounded, his hand had been partially inside the tunnel. Fortunately, objects that weren’t being held by a living creature couldn’t pass through a portal on their own. If it had fallen from his hand, it would be there still.
He moved closer. Yes, there it was. He could see the runestone just inside the tunnel. He plugged his ears again with wax, then unslung his mace and poked it slightly into the tunnel, bracing himself. So far, so good. The mace didn’t trigger the thunderclap. But try as he might, he couldn’t snag the runestone and drag it out. His mace seemed to be passing through it, as if the runestone weren’t there. Belatedly, he realized that the runestone was shimmering-partially there, and partially not.
He’d have to pass through the portal to reclaim it.
He stood, chewing his lip in consternation. He had promised Eralynn he wouldn’t follow her. He could wait for her in Hammergate, of course, then bring her back to the canyon floor and get her to enter the portal and fetch the runestone, but in the meantime someone else might claim it. Despite the care he and Eralynn had taken in coming here unnoticed, he couldn’t be absolutely certain that no one had followed them here. If they had been followed, the rogue who’d attempted to steal the runestone from Torrin earlier would be able to get his hands on it in Torrin’s absence-assuming he figured out how to activate the portal.
“I suppose it will be twice Eralynn will have to forgive me,” Torrin muttered, digging the wax out of his ears.
He’d already figured out the answer to the riddle. The key was to speak the two correct words that had been mis-scribed in the inscription above.
Torrin settled his goggles into place over his eyes, unslung his mace, and spoke the words: “Steady, soldiers.” Then he walked through the portal and felt his body wrenched between here and there.
The stench was the first thing Torrin noticed as he glanced around the dead-end tunnel he’d been transported to. A century might have passed since the portal was last used to trap a dragon, but the tunnel still smelled faintly of dung. He saw, to his vast relief, that the runestone lay at his feet, and that it was no longer shimmering. He picked it up and spent a moment examining it, but even though it had passed fully through a portal, there was no obvious change. Disappointed, he placed it in a pouch and secured the pouch in his backpack.
He spent a moment listening, but heard nothing-neither the sound of Eralynn’s footfalls nor any other sounds of movement. Readying his mace once more, he rounded the curve in the tunnel and entered the bolthole Eralynn had told him about. He had to crawl through it on his hands and knees; it was low enough that even a dwarf would have to stoop to pass through it. Torrin wondered how the soldiers of old had managed to move quickly enough through it to escape a dragon that was hard on their heels.