“We aren’t likely to find any place guaranteed to be safe,” Corin said.
“Maybe if we could just close off the passage behind us,” Much said. “Then we’d only have to guard our camp from one direction.”
“That’s a good idea,” Bradok admitted. “It might work. But we’d have to find a weak part of the passage to pull down, and we don’t have the proper tools. Someone would have to take risks.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Corin said. “Trying to collapse the ceiling.”
“It’d be suicide for whoever volunteered,” Rose said. “We still ought to consider it,” Bradok said without much enthusiasm.
“There you are,” Chisul’s voice reached Bradok before Chisul himself did. Bradok’s stomach turned sour. He was back there in the rear precisely to avoid trouble-making dwarves such as Silas’s son. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re pretty far behind the group.”
“Imagine that,” Corin said with mockery in his voice, “the rear guard actually bringing up the rear.”
“Well, get your rears moving,” Chisul said, “if that isn’t too much to ask. The people want a word with their great leader, Bradok.”
Bradok ground his teeth in frustration. Every time anyone had a hangnail, they brought the problem to him. He made a mental note to find an appropriate way to thank Rose and her busybody brother for foisting upon him the leadership of the survivors.
He glanced guiltily at Rose. She seemed better, though now and then she stroked her bandaged arm. They had told the others that she had had a bad stumble and Tal had fixed her up.
“What do they want this time?” Bradok asked wearily as Chisul fell in line beside them.
“Oh, I imagine it’s the same as before,” Chisul said with a shrug. “They want you to do something about the darkness.”
“What do they think I am?” Bradok yelled, causing Rose to start. “I’m not a wizard or a priest. I can’t wave a magic wand or anything.” Bradok’s voice echoed down the passage, so the others could hear, but he didn’t care any longer. He poked Chisul in the chest, causing the younger dwarf to stagger back. “I can’t just say let there be light and have it spring up out of no-”
Just then a burst of brightness washed over Bradok. It couldn’t really have been very bright but, with his eyes accustomed to total darkness, the sudden intensity of it burned like fire. When Bradok tried to open his eyes, he had to shield them with his hands against the ball of orange energy that had materialized in the passage ahead of them, hovering just a few feet away.
“Your friend’s back,” Rose said, shielding her eyes as well.
It did look like the orb of light they’d seen before.
“You’ve seen that one before?” Corin asked, awe in his voice. He eyed Bradok with an intense look, his forked beard quivering.
“Yes,” Bradok said. “A couple of ‘em appeared and one flew right through me one night while I was on guard duty. But they were green then. Why?”
“My people call these things ‘dark lights,’” Corin said in a hushed voice. “To see one is considered a good omen. There are stories of them leading travelers out of trouble.” The Daergar shrugged; then his face lengthened. “Of course there are also stories of them leading the unwary to violent deaths.”
“Great,” Chisul said. “So now we have a light guiding us that can think for itself, and we can’t trust its motives.”
“That’s about it,” Bradok agreed wryly.
“Still,” Corin said, a thoughtful note in his voice. “It touched you once and now it’s back. That has to mean something. Maybe it’s a good omen, after all.” He laughed suddenly. “If there were any members of the Magma Tube Clan around, they’d find it absolutely fascinating that you actually touched a cave light.”
“You mean they’d revere him?” Rose said.
Corin nodded. “Right before they ate him,” he said with a smirk.
“Ate?” Much said, aghast.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Corin said, cutting Bradok off before he could protest. “We don’t have any Magma Tube Clansmen in these parts.”
“Well, that’s good,” Bradok croaked.
“As far as I know,” Corin added with a wink to Rose.
Their eyes had finally become accustomed to the light, and they lowered their hands. The ball of energy just hung there in the center of the passage, not moving. Its body, if the edge of its fuzzy round shape could be called that, seemed to expand and contract at regular intervals, as if it were slowly breathing in and out. Purple pulses of energy would occasionally leap from one side of its form to the other then back, skittering across its surface to form a constantly shifting spiderweb of arcs.
“So … what now?” Chisul asked.
“How should I know?” Bradok answered.
“You must have summoned it.”
“No, I didn’t. The fact that it appeared right when I said ‘light’ was just a coincidence.”
“Quite a coincidence,” Rose said under her breath.
“Major coincidence,” Much added.
“I had a philosophy teacher once who said there were no such things as coincidences,” Corin finished.
Bradok turned to the Daergar. “Meaning what?” he asked.
“Meaning that maybe our glowing friend here wants something,” Chisul said.
All eyes turned back to Bradok. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes then turned to the orange energy ball.
“Ahem, uh, pardon me. What can I do for you?” Bradok asked, trying hard not to sound too awed or afraid.
The ball quivered at the sound of his voice, the distinct edges of its surface rippling like a still pond disturbed by a stone. Spiderwebs of energy erupted all over its body; then it zoomed around Bradok, circling him twice, before flying up the passageway. It stopped after a dozen yards, hanging motionless again. When no one moved, it pulsed twice, growing momentarily brighter.
“I think it wants us to follow it,” Rose said after a long, tense silence.
Chisul pointed at Corin. “Didn’t he just say they lead people to their doom?”
“He said sometimes they do,” Rose said.
“That’s often enough for me,” Chisul said.
“Me too,” Much agreed.
“I don’t think it wants to hurt us,” Rose insisted. “If it does, why didn’t it lead us to our doom the first time?”
The orange ball pulsed again, almost impatiently.
“Well, it’s going the same way we are,” Bradok pointed out. “We may as well follow it. If we turn around, we’ll lose the others.”
“Where are the rest anyway?” Much asked Chisul.
“There’s a big cave up ahead,” the cooper’s son said. “No mushrooms, but a lot of crystals. They’re waiting there.”
“All right,” Bradok said, slowly moving up the passage. “Let’s play along for a while. See where Blinky is taking us.”
As Bradok moved forward, the light retreated, always staying ahead of them, just within sight. When it reached the cave, it darted over the heads of the startled dwarves who sat, waiting for Chisul’s return. The chamber itself was large, with thousands of milky-white crystals growing from the walls, floor, and ceiling.
As the energy ball entered, the crystals seemed to leap to life, their glasslike edges reflecting the light brilliantly. It looked as if the single orb of pale orange light had been suddenly boosted by hundreds.
The edgy, sleep-deprived dwarves reacted as one, seizing their weapons and their loved ones and huddling together fearfully. Kellik lashed out with his warhammer, shattering a freestanding crystal into a thousand glittering shards.
“Wait!” Rose cried as others stood, ready to begin swinging at anything that glittered or gleamed. “It isn’t hurting us.”
“Says you,” Chisul muttered, his hand on his short sword.
Meanwhile the orange light zoomed around the room, ignoring Bradok and the dwarves completely. Gradually it slowed and began orbiting an enormous crystal at the far end of the cave, revolving around the trunklike structure with changing light pulses.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose decided.
Bradok would have felt a lot better about the beauty of the pulsing ball of light if he knew whether it promised doom or salvation.