The Deep Forge was located below the West Tower. Taris and Lannon stepped from the pine forest and back into the clearing where the huge Tower of Arms stood dark and imposing against the moonlit sky. Lannon's gaze passed up the wall of the stone keep that was circled by balconies and dotted with many windows, and once again he felt like he was being watched. The tower looked like a manmade mountain beneath the moon (though it was not as large as the North Tower that the Lord Knight of Dremlock, Cordus Landsaver, resided in). Lannon wondered how far down into earth and stone the Deep Forge lay, and if it was plagued by the same evils as other areas of the mines.
Two bearded, muscular Knights stood on either side of the twelve-foot-tall iron door. They pulled it open, and Taris and Lannon entered the Great Hall that was filled with life-sized paintings of Knights. The hall was warmed by a stone fireplace, above which hung a painting of the first, and most famous, Lord Knight of Dremlock-Kuran Darkender. The Squires were still eating at tables and celebrating Promotion Day. Taris motioned to Vorden and Timlin, and the two Squires hurried over.
"What's going on?" Vorden asked.
"Follow us to the Deep Forge," was Taris' only reply.
They passed beyond a door marked Armory Entrance and into a room full of many crates and racks holding weapons that gleamed in the torchlight. They followed a stone stairway that wound down into the earth beneath the tower and took them into a tunnel full of crates, barrels, and mining gear. Typically, the mines beneath Dremlock inspired dark feelings within Lannon, but this area seemed free of that heavy gloom.
At last, Taris told Vorden and Timlin what he'd told Lannon, and he made the Squires swear an oath of secrecy. Vorden beamed with excitement, but Timlin seemed close to losing his nerve.
"A demon?" said Vorden. "They actually exist?"
"Demons are very real," said Taris. "Sorcerers of Tharnin have enslaved them in the past and forced them to serve. The most powerful demons of all tend to dwell in the Paltos Wasteland for some unknown reason, which is a foggy, rocky valley in a stretch of mountains beyond Silverland."
Timlin hesitated, his face pale. "I'm not sure I want to go down there, Master Taris. I don't like the mines, and…and I don't think I want to confront that fellow. I just don't feel ready for it."
"I understand your fear," said Taris, "but if you're ever going to be a Knight, you need to stop letting it dictate your actions. Lannon needs you, and I must insist that you accompany us."
"Lannon doesn't need me at all," Timlin admitted. "He can summon the Eye of Divinity on his own."
"Timlin!" Vorden muttered, throwing up his hands in disbelief.
"Lannon needs you, regardless," said Taris. "It's simply a matter of having his friends with him for support."
Yet Timlin still didn't move. "I just don't want to go."
His face darkening, Taris seized Timlin's tunic sleeve. "I've had enough of you succumbing to your fears! You will either accompany us to the Deep Forge or you will be demoted to the rank of Orange. Is that understood?"
Timlin's eyes widened. "Yes, it's understood."
But Taris' piercing gaze lingered on him. "I don't wish to be so strict with you, Timlin, but Dremlock is no place for cowards. Fear or not, you must learn to act. Talent is not enough. Your attitude could put lives at risk."
Timlin swallowed, and nodded. His eyes narrowed. "I said I understand. So let go of my tunic."
"I'll let you go when I feel the need," Taris said coldly.
"Better watch yourself," Timlin mumbled.
Vorden and Lannon exchanged anxious glances, thinking that Timlin had just gone way too far and was about to lose his chance at Knighthood. This was the first time they had ever heard a Squire dare to threaten a Knight-and not just any Knight, but a member of the High Council who was outranked only by the Lord Knight himself. And this was Taris Warhawk-a sorcerer of unmatched skill and the last person at Dremlock one would want to threaten.
But Taris only laughed. "You think you can intimidate me, little man? You have no clue what trials I have gone through. You can't deal with your own fears, so you try to make others fear you. You have a dark side, certainly, and you feel perfectly justified in taking revenge on anyone who provokes you. But that's not the attitude of a Knight, either. You need to work on your character."
Timlin lowered his gaze.
Taris released him. "Build your character, or your flaws will cause you, and those around you, to suffer." With that, the Tower Master started off again.
Timlin glared at him from behind, but followed. Vorden sighed and wiped sweat from his brow, giving Lannon a relieved glance.
"That goes for you as well, Lannon," Taris said. "Like Timlin, you must learn to overcome your fear. I have seen far too many Squires and Knights fail because the terror grew to consume them." He paused and turned, his eyes shining like green fire in the torchlight. "The Deep Shadow is all about fear, my young friends. It will grow in your hearts and try to break your will. You must resist it."
"I'm not afraid," said Vorden, raising his chin defiantly.
"I don't doubt your words," said Taris. "But you suffer from the opposite problem as Lannon and Timlin. You are arrogantly brave, and that could be your downfall. You Squires are a bit older and more seasoned now. It's time you started to confront your character flaws."
"I wish I was perfect like you, Taris," Timlin said, a hint of a sneer on his lips. "Maybe if I keep trying, I'll get there."
"How long have you been at Dremlock, Timlin?" said Taris.
"Almost a year," said Timlin. "Why?"
"Then you should know by now," said the sorcerer, "to always address me as Master Taris-even when you're angry at me. You will show respect!"
"Sorry, Master Taris," Timlin mumbled.
"And I'm far from perfect," said Taris. "I've made many mistakes on the path to Knighthood, some that I deeply regret. What you view as perfection is simply the result of a lot of harsh lessons-like a blade that a blacksmith has had to hammer away at to smooth out the flaws. I wouldn't wish the troubles I have endured upon anyone."
"I thought we were on an important mission," said Timlin. "So why are we standing in this tunnel discussing character issues?"
Taris turned, glowering. "You're developing quite a bold tongue, Timlin. I'm not the only one who has noticed that lately. I can be very forgiving, but rest assured that there are plenty of Knights who have no tolerance for such behavior from Squires. And my patience is almost gone."
"He's right, Timlin," said Vorden. "You're going way too far lately. You're sure to get tossed out of Dremlock!"
Timlin seemed to be fighting his usual internal battle for control, his eyes smoldering. Finally he bowed his head. "I guess I'll watch what I say from now on, Master Taris. I apologize."
"We will discuss this later," said Taris.
Lannon gazed at Timlin with pity. Clearly, Timlin was deeply troubled, and Lannon couldn't begin to fathom what was going on in his mind. Timlin seemed to dwell in some tiny, dark world that no one else could peer into.
They passed through caverns stacked with crates and lined with racks of weapons and armor. A series of stone steps then took them deep into the earth and down into more stone tunnels.
The Deep Forge was a single large, hot cavern filled with the smells of oil, leather, sweat, and smoldering iron. Olrogs-the Grey Dwarves-hammered at weapons and armor. When they weren't crafting new battle gear, they were busy repairing damaged gear. They worked vigorously amongst the furnaces and water-filled barrels, their powerful bodies seemingly tireless.