The ship shuddered again, slamming into something and grinding up and over the obstacle.
Bradok noticed Kellik. The massive dwarf had pulled Hemmish into his chest and was leaning over the boy, forming a living barrier to protect him. That was dangerous; he wasn’t bracing himself enough. Bradok was about to call out to him when he felt himself suddenly tossed into the air, with the ship falling away beneath him. The sensation of falling lasted only a second before he was slammed into the wooden side of the ship. He could hear wood splintering and water roaring as he was thoroughly doused.
A gash had been torn in the side of their ship, and water poured in. Before anyone could make a move, however, they struck solid ground with a thud and screeched to a halt. The torn side of the boat was propped up in the air, the water no longer rushing in.
“We’ve stopped,” Chisul said from somewhere in the tangled mass of bodies back in the center of the boat.
Bradok pulled Rose to her feet and asked if she’d been hurt. When she shook her head, he left her and moved to examine the boat and the gash in its side. Bradok could see that something had torn a ragged hole across four of the planks that made up the wall of wood. Had they been back in Silas’s shop, it would have been an easy fix. Out in the middle of nowhere, however, it was a fatal wound.
“She’s served her purpose, lad,” Much said sympathetically, seeing what Bradok saw. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Looks like you’re going to get your wish after all, Chisul,” Rose said with a smile. Chisul, looking bedraggled as he stood up, snorted.
But Bradok nodded appreciatively. “This is the end of the line,” he announced, moving to the opposite side of the boat, where the rail was just above the water line. “Like it or not, we all walk from here.”
CHAPTER 9
The side of the beached ship tilted out just above the wet sand at the edge of the underground river. The smell of mineral water permeated the cool air, giving it a decidedly metallic tang.
“Grab the lamps,” Bradok said, peering out over the black water.
Rose unhooked the lamp at one end of the ship and brought it forward. As she climbed up next to Bradok, the light spilled over the side, illuminating a small beach of white sand a few feet away.
Bradok took the lamp and held it high, looking back over the ship. Beyond, on the far side, he could see the mist kicked up by a waterfall in the distance that he could hear but not see. Black water extended out from the little inlet where the ship had come to rest. A rushing river hurried on past into the impenetrable darkness.
“Well,” Much asked. “What do you see?”
“It’s a miracle we’re not all drowned,” Chisul said, wringing the water from his shirt.
“The good news is there’s a beach here that looks nice and dry,” Bradok said. “Let’s get everyone out.”
Chisul shot him a sour look then stomped to the rail. “Who elected you leader?” he grumbled.
“If you have a better suggestion,” Bradok said, “let’s hear it.”
Chisul didn’t answer, just jumped over the rail into calf-deep water and slogged his way up to the sand. One by one the survivors of Ironroot made their way out of the waterlogged ship and onto the cool, dry beach.
“We need to get everyone out of their wet garments and into dry clothes,” Tal said as he made his way onto dry land.
“There are a few cuts and bruises that will need your attention too, Doctor,” Much said as he limped away from the boat. Dark blood smeared the arm Much held cradled at his side.
When everyone was out and accounted for, Bradok flopped down on the soft sand. It felt good to stretch out flat again.
“We made it,” he said quietly. “We’re alive.”
There was a moment of silence all around. Everyone was thinking of Ironroot, what happened back there, whether anyone could still be alive after all the wholesale destruction.
Chisul thought of his father, wondering what had become of Silas. Kellik thought of his dead wife. Bradok was thinking of Sapphire, that last pleading look on his mother’s face before her life was extinguished.
The cool air of the cavern moved and swirled in response to the waterfall and the river. Bradok shivered as it riffled his wet shirt. Tal had been right; they’d all catch their deaths of cold if they didn’t get out of their soaked clothes and into something dry.
“We need to make a fire,” he said, forcing himself to stand. “Anyone with an axe, head back to the ship and cut some of it up for firewood. Start with the driest wood first.”
A groan rose up from the dwarves, but several of the stalwarts stood and made their way back to the ship.
“Everyone else, we need to get everyone into dry clothes. Men, make sure the women and children are taken care of first.”
He half expected another complaint from Chisul, but Silas’s son was one of the first to stand and begin stripping off his wet clothes. Beside him, two rough-looking dwarves named Vulnar and Jenner were also changing into the driest clothes they had as rapidly as they could. Bradok realized those two stuck pretty close to Chisul, and he wondered absently if they were all three friends. He hoped not; Chisul was already proving a troublemaker.
He pushed such thoughts from his mind and pulled off his wet clothes, leaving just his pants. Only some of the dwarves had gotten wet when the ship was breached, and it seemed there were enough dry garments to be shared and passed around.
The sound of axes on wood filled the air, and within ten minutes a modest fire was crackling and popping on the sand.
Bradok hung his wet items on a makeshift clothesline that the grandmotherly Isirah Anvil had strung between two stalagmites. Then he changed into other clothes from his pack. The fire had warmed the air nicely, and he started to feel like himself again. The trip through the bowels of Krynn in a boat was something he’d never forget, but dwarves as a rule are not fond of seafaring. It felt good to have dry land under his feet again.
“So where do we go from here?” Much’s voice rose from the far side of the fire.
“He’s right,” Kellik said, looking around. “We can’t stay here for very long. We’re almost out of food.”
“There might be some fish in the river,” the rough-looking Halum Ironband said helpfully.
“I think it’s clear what we have to do,” Chisul stated firmly. “We need to find our way out of here and get back to our people.”
“That could be the most dangerous thing to do,” the grizzled, one-eyed dwarf said.
“Dangerous if we succeed and dangerous if we don’t,” Isirah chimed in, clutching the youngest of her grandchildren to her side. “We weren’t made to feel very welcome back in Ironroot, and who knows how much of the place has survived? We could get lost and starve to death.”
“That isn’t going to happen,” Rose said. “Reorx didn’t lead us down here just to starve. He’ll guide us to safety; I feel it in my bones.”
“And how is he going to do that?” Chisul asked sarcastically. “Did he leave marks for us to follow or something?”
“How should I know?” Rose replied with a dazzling smile that was wasted on Chisul. “That’s why it’s called faith.”
Chisul rolled his eyes, but many of the other dwarves were nodding. Something Rose said tickled Bradok’s memory, though. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the strange brass device that had released the image of Reorx. Since then, Bradok hadn’t opened it; indeed, he had almost forgotten he possessed it. He wondered if it would even open again. But Rose had said that Reorx would provide for them, and she had given him the idea to try it again.
He put his hand on the hidden catch and pressed. The purple stone on top flared, and the lid swung open. The inside of the device was hollow except for a purple mist that swirled inside it like a miniature cloud.