The abrupt activity seemed to rouse the attention of the mushroom-covered dwarves, as if they had overlooked them at first.
“Look,” one of them said in a peculiar, far-away voice. “Who are they?”
A tallish female leaned forward, squinting through her greasy, grime-covered hair. “Outsiders,” she wailed. “Unclean.”
Bradok absently wondered who the five dwarves thought they were to call him unclean. Whoever the strange dwarves were, he decided, they seemed a threat. Without even thinking about the possible consequences, he drew his sword and stepped forward, between the escaping women and children and the strange, glowing dwarves.
“They have f-f-food,” a squat, mushroomed dwarf stammered.
“They’ve taken mushrooms from this cavern,” the tall woman said in a voice of outrage.
“We must have the f-f-food,” the squat one said.
With that, they shambled forward in a curious, undulating gait, as if their legs weren’t working properly.
“Hold them off!” Bradok said, standing forward with his sword raised.
Dallon and Halum appeared on Bradok’s right, while Kellik, Rose, Vulnar, and Chisul flanked him on his left. Each carried a weapon, but the weapons didn’t seem to interest the Daergar in the slightest. As they came closer, the stench of their bodies became almost suffocating. Bradok could see the strange fungi growing on their extremities in horrifyingly exquisite detail. The squat dwarf in the center of the bunch even had a tiny mushroom growing from the front of his left eye. It shifted and danced as he looked about.
Bradok’s fascination with the putrid dwarves almost cost him his life. The squat dwarf suddenly struck out at him with his arm, using his limb like one might use a club. Out of instinct more than anything else, Bradok parried with his sword. The enchanted blade sliced through the gray flesh as easily as one might carve warm butter. The severed limb spun back over the dwarf’s head and away into the darkness.
If the dwarf felt anything for the loss of his arm, he didn’t show it. There was scarcely any change in the weird expression on his face. But a dark liquid that resembled sap more than blood oozed from the wound, and the dwarf staggered back under the force of Bradok’s blow.
Beside him Dallon had smashed in the eyes of the thin dwarf with his hammer, but the body didn’t seem to notice the injury and was determined to attack anyway. The sightless dwarf’s arms spun wildly, attempting to grapple an enemy it could no longer see.
Bradok stepped sideways and helped Dallon by deftly slicing through his foe’s thigh. With only one leg holding it up, the strange mushroom-ridden Daergar fell helpless to the ground, its arms still flailing in a vain attempt to continue his attack.
Rose and Chisul were fighting the tall woman. The tall Daergar had lashed out with her clawlike nails, leaving bloody gashes on Rose’s arm and Chisul’s cheek. As Chisul chopped an arm from her body, Rose hacked at her legs. Rose wielded only a long knife, but she struck true, sending the shrieking hag over backward with a shattered knee.
Bradok turned again, just in time to see Halum and Kellik bashing and slicing their foe into pieces with brutal efficiency.
“Look out!” Dallon called just in the nick of time.
The squat dwarf was back, carrying his severed arm and swinging it like a club. The wounded end of the arm hit Bradok in the shoulder, leaving behind a smear of foul-smelling blood.
Bradok didn’t hesitate. He chopped away the dwarf’s good hand, then smote off his head in a single stroke. The headless body stumbled forward to continue the attack, but Dallon bashed its hip with a sideways blow of his hammer, sending it into a writhing pile on the cavern floor.
Chisul and Rose had backed away from their victim, who lay undulating on the floor, her remaining hand pressed to her abdomen. She screamed as the flesh beneath her hand began to expand in some bizarre mimicry of pregnancy.
“What’s happening to her?” Rose gasped, disgust in her voice.
“I don’t think we should wait to find out,” Chisul said, horrified, edging back.
“Good idea,” Bradok said. “Everybody out!”
They all turned and raced for the hole. During their fight most of the others had escaped, and the rest scrambled to get away.
Chisul dived through the opening, headfirst, followed by Rose. As Dallon, then Vulnar, retreated, Bradok glanced back.
The writhing woman’s abdomen had distended beyond the size of mountain boulder and seemed ready to burst.
“Hurry up,” he told Kellik as the big smith forced his burly body through the opening. Then Bradok plunged through the gap.
“Get up the tunnel,” he yelled at the loitering dwarves. “Now!”
No one saw fit to argue. They turned and ran, chasing after the light ahead that marked the flight of the others. Dallon carried their second lantern. They had gone only a few steps up the tunnel when there came a tremendous bang and the sound of wet, pulpy material exploding against the walls of the cavern.
As they whirled in horror, they saw a golden mist flowing out of the hole. Little flecks of something were suspended in it, undulating and moving as it spread.
“Quick! That mist has to be poisonous,” Rose warned before turning to run.
“Move!” Bradok echoed, and the remaining survivors sprinted away as fast as they could after their fleeing companions.
CHAPTER 11
Fire burned in Bradok’s lungs as he ran headlong up the passage of rock. Ragged breathing filled the space around him as his companions raced with him away from the golden mist. His foot struck some unseen protrusion in the floor of the passage and he stumbled. A strong arm shot out of the darkness and grabbed his elbow, steadying him then shoving him forward, urging him on.
“What were those things?” Halum said, his voice shaky and uncertain.
“Who cares?” Vulnar cried, his voice huffing through his ragged breaths.
“That mist cloud looked like spores,” Dallon gasped, his voice close behind.
“What in the world could it be?” Chisul asked.
“I don’t want to find out,” Rose said.
“Talk about it later,” Bradok wheezed.
He could already see the blue light that marked the place where the rest of the group waited for them.
“Are you all right?” Tal asked as the panting, sweating dwarves joined them, collapsing into heaps on the floor.
“Rose and Chisul,” Bradok said, leaning on his knees to catch his breath.
“It’s just a scratch,” Rose said, waving Tal off as he tried to examine her arm. Turning to Bradok, she said, “That mist-do you think it might follow us?”
A cold chill ran down Bradok’s spine. He knew that it was more than possible. They couldn’t tarry there long.
“Let’s see what we can find out,” he said, reaching for the compass. To his utter horror, his hand found only an empty pocket.
“It’s gone,” he gasped.
“What’s gone?” Rose asked in a low voice, looking around to make sure the other dwarves hadn’t heard and been alarmed.
“The compass,” he said, frantically patting his other pockets. “I must have dropped it during the fight, or maybe when we ran up the passage.”
He sprang to his feet, feeling his heart beat fast. “I’ve got to go back,” he said.
Even before he could take a step back down the passage, Rose and Chisul had grabbed his arms.
“Are you insane?” Chisul said. “That mist could be churning up the passage right now.”
“But I’ve got to get the compass,” Bradok said, struggling against them. “We need it to tell us how to survive down here.”
“Survive?” Chisul said. “I’d say we get as far away from that mist as possible, and our chances for survival will go way up.”
“He’s right,” Rose said. “Maybe the compass has served its purpose, like the ship.”