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Before the Sarcithian had time to react, the heavy stone door slammed shut with a thundering boom, sealing him forever with his doom. The echoes died away; the mountain was left once more in silence. The Harbinger rode back the way he had come, paying no attention to the clansman hidden in the rocks.

Valorian sank back against the stone, appalled by the horror he had seen. Second and third thoughts battered against his resolve to enter that forbidding doorway until he felt as weak and despairing as a condemned man. “Amara,» he silently cried, “why did you want me to do this?”

Forcing himself to mount Hunnul, the clansman rode to the base of the cliff wall. He stared numbly up at the gray stone, struggling to control his fear. Because he had given his word to his goddess, he wouldn’t back down now, but he had never done anything in his life as difficult as voicing the Harbinger’s command to open the door. Only the knowledge that the decision to go to Gormoth had been ultimately his gave him the strength to continue.

With every bit of courage he could summon, Valorian forced his mind clear and spoke the Harbinger’s strange command, hoping it would work for him. He waited for several moments, yet the door didn’t budge. He shouted the command again in an effort to mimic the Harbinger’s exact tone and inflection, and still the portal remained solidly closed. His hopes sank into frustration. What could he hope to accomplish if he couldn’t even get inside?

He was about to dismount and try beating on the door when a new thought came to him. The Harbinger had used a strange power against the dead man’s soul, a power that was quite possibly magic. Therefore, Valorian surmised, it seemed reasonable to assume that the escort had used magic to open the door as well.

Valorian lifted his head. It was certainly worth a try.

Amara had given him the ability to wield magic, and it was time he started learning to use it. “Clarify the intent in your mind,” she had said. He closed his eyes, concentrated a single thought on the door, and clearly voiced the Harbinger’s command.

An unfamiliar energy seemed to crackle through him and surge from his being. There was a long, hesitant silence, then, ever so slowly, the big stone portal cracked open and swung wide. The darkness yawned before him. Looking down the black maw of the tunnel, Valorian wasn’t certain whether to be pleased by his success or horrified. But at least the spell had worked.

Valorian reluctantly drew his sword and said, “Let’s go, Hunnul.”

For once, the big stallion refused. His ears went flat against his head, and he tucked his chin in and backed away several steps.

The clansman could hardly blame the horse. A cold, fetid draft blew from the entrance, heavy with the smell of sulphur and corruption. The darkness within was absolute.

Valorian stared at the tunnel, then gazed up at the light shining from the mountaintop. A wisp of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Encouraged by his success with the door, he closed his eyes and concentrated on a desire for light: a small, bright, movable light that would guide his way through the tunnels, calm Hunnul’s fear, and perhaps surprise the gorthlings.

He felt again the strange surge of power and cautiously opened his eyes. A light was there, but it wasn’t quite what he had in mind. It was too small and feeble. He tried again to focus on exactly what he wanted, channeling the unfamiliar power into his first real spell. To his pleasure, he watched the guttering light transform into a brightly glowing sphere that hung suspended in the air near his head.

Hunnul snorted suspiciously. However, when Valorian sent the light ahead into the passageway, the big horse unwillingly moved forward. Step by step, on legs as stiff as glass, Hunnul approached the entrance. They passed over the threshold into Gormoth, and on its own accord, the door boomed shut behind them.

4

Like a summons, the thundering boom echoed down the tunnel, deep and resonant, shaking the walls and causing the floor to tremble. Hunnul came to a dead stop in frightened surprise. Valorian tried to stifle his own apprehension as he calmed the nervous stallion. He stared around warily at the smooth floor, the rough-hewn walls, and the ceiling that loomed overhead. There was nothing to be seen in the glow thrown by his light. Just ahead, the blackness of the tunnelled downward into the depths of the mountain. There was no noise, no movement, no indication whatsoever of life; even the man who had entered a short time before was gone. Yet Valorian sensed the presence of something close by. There was a coldness in the air that chilled him to the bone and raised the hairs on his neck. Warily he clutched his sword and, mentally pushing his sphere of light ahead of them to show the way, kneed Hunnul forward down into the implacable darkness.

They walked slowly downward for what seemed a very long time. The tunnel ran straight for a few paces, then turned to the right and immediately curved left again. It continued its erratic course, zigzagging through the mountain until Valorian had no idea what direction they were going except down. There were no side openings or forks in the trail; it seemed to be the only way in, leading irrevocably down to some destination known only to the gods and the gorthlings.

The tunnel remained empty and silent. The only noise Valorian could hear was the soft clip-clop of Hunnul’s hooves on the floor, yet the clansman knew they were not alone. The feeling of a presence close by grew stronger by the moment. Something was watching them, he knew it. The back of his neck prickled and his body was rigid with tension while he strained every sense into the darkness surrounding them. Every now and again he half saw a whisk of movement at the farthest reaches of his light, as if something was getting out of the way of the strange magical illumination. He imagined the gorthlings, if that’s what were out there, were rather surprised by a soul entering their domain with a horse, a sword, and a sphere of magical light. He just hoped their amazement would keep them at bay for a while longer.

The cold, fetid draft was stronger now, and the mountain seemed to weigh heavily over their heads. Hunnul walked on, ever downward, his ears swiveling like a deer’s and his nostrils flaring to red cups. The stallion was so tense he was practically stepping on the tips of his hooves.

Valorian lost all track of time. He didn’t know how long they walked in the stinking, cold darkness or how far they had gone. His sense of reality shrank to a small circle of light surrounded by unseen evil and imagined horrors.

After a while, he became aware of harsh whispers in the blackness behind him. A pattering sound, like many small feet, echoed down the tunnel, and now and again there was a crashing noise as if a rock had been dislodged. Once Valorian thought he heard an agonized shriek from somewhere in the darkness, but it was impossible to tell from which direction it came, and the hideous sound was cut off almost as quickly as it began. Valorian swallowed hard and wondered where the soul of the dead man had gone—and where were the gorthlings?

Hunnul pushed on until he was almost jogging along the passage. The sound of his hooves rang around them, yet the noise didn’t hide the skittering and whispering sounds in the shaft behind them. All at once something small scooted out of the blackness and gave Hunnul’s tail a vicious yank. The stallion squealed in fury and lashed back with a foot just a moment too late. The creature was already gone into the darkness before either man or horse could see it.

Valorian cursed under his breath. This journey was growing intolerable. He could hardly bear to continue simply riding into a blind trap while an unseen menace lurked at his heels. He wanted to stand and fight, to see his enemies and drive them away. But the evil things in the darkness stayed out of sight, and all he could do was keep going.

Warily he and Hunnul continued on, winding their way downward into the mountain fastness. It wasn’t long before the creatures behind them grew bolder. Their whispers changed to malicious laughter that grated on Valorian’s already stretched self—control. Rocks flew out of the dark to land with a crash near Hunnul’s feet or strike with stinging pain on Valorian’s back. Shadows small and swift dashed maddeningly in and out of the rim of Valorian’s light.