by Dan Willis
“A giant cave spider,” Much gasped, coming up to stand beside the armed party. “Lucky for us it’s long dead.”
Strictly speaking, cave spiders weren’t spiders at all, but monster insects. Bradok shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what might have happened if that one hadn’t succumbed to the ravages of time. He’d always known that the dwarves weren’t the only creatures who lived far below the surface of Krynn, but the sight of the skeletal, once-deadly monster reminded him that unfamiliar caves could be very dangerous places.
“Check the roof,” Vulnar said, his voice a fatigued croak. “I heard some of the deep miners say that they lay their eggs up high, where their young can drop on unsuspecting passersby.”
Bradok held up the light, and all eyes swept the roof. A little ways to the left of the skeleton, they noticed three orbs that appeared to be attached to the roof of the cavern by some kind of paste or glue. They were all cracked and empty, but the sight gave the dwarves chills.
“Spread out,” Chisul commanded, holding his sword above his head. “Make sure there aren’t any more like that.”
Bradok and Kellik moved off toward the far end of the cave, and the others made their way back to where everyone waited. An inspection of the ceiling yielded no more eggs, empty or otherwise. When they reached the back of the cavern, Bradok’s light illuminated a dark crack in the wall. Closer scrutiny revealed a passage leading away from the chamber into darkness.
“Should we follow this way?” Kellik asked. “See where it goes?”
Bradok reckoned that it would be a tight squeeze for him to get through the crack, and that the broad Kellik might not fit at all.
“No,” he said, his stomach rumbling. “Not yet anyway. The way’s too narrow as it is, and nothing too menacing will be able to get through to bother us here.”
Kellik nodded and the pair returned to join the others. Rose and Tal met him with worried looks. They’d gathered a modest pile of mushrooms in their cloaks and bade Bradok and Kellik to sit and eat.
Ignoring Tal ‘s advice to eat modestly, Bradok stuffed himself. Between the spicy peppertops and the sweet honey mushrooms, he felt as if he’d just dined in some luxurious tavern. After he had eaten his fill and more, Bradok leaned back against a column of rock and closed his eyes.
“We should gather up as much as we can carry,” he heard Chisul say just as he was about to doze off. “There’s no telling when we’ll get out of these tunnels.”
Everyone murmured agreement and the dwarves began moving again, cutting mushrooms and wrapping them in whatever they had handy.
“You shouldn’t let him do that,” Tal whispered as Bradok opened his eyes to watch the activity.
“Do what?”
Tal pointed to Chisul. “If you allow him to lead, the others will begin to look to him as our leader,” he said.
Bradok shrugged. “What do I care?” he said. “It makes him happy and keeps him from complaining. I don’t feel like much of a leader, anyway.”
“He’s a spoiled kid,” Tal said, fixing Bradok with a serious stare. “That kind of leader makes impulsive decisions, and impulsive decisions get people killed.”
“He’s right, you know,” Rose chimed in, sidling closer. She was still nibbling on a mushroom.
“We have to think ahead,” Tal continued. “Sooner or later we’re going to get out of these caverns. Have you thought about what happens then?”
Bradok admitted he hadn’t.
“What caused the destruction of Ironroot?” Tal asked. “Who knows what other destruction it caused?”
“What are you driving at?” Bradok answered, tired of Tal’s know-it-all air.
“What if we make it to the surface and there’s no one there anymore?” Tal said, an earnest look on his face.
“Don’t be absurd,” Bradok said. “The surface world is positively lousy with humans and elves and all sorts of things. What makes you think the destruction spread beyond Ironroot?”
“What makes you think it didn’t?” Rose asked, exchanging looks with her brother. “What if it was a disaster that wiped out much of Krynn? What if there are few dwarves left alive anywhere? Then what?”
Bradok frowned, thinking it over. They were back to being believers. But something very bad had happened to Krynn. What had happened, why had it happened, and how far had it spread? He had to admit, he hadn’t thought deeply enough about the possibilities.
“I guess we’d have to start our own town,” he said finally. “Rebuild.”
Rose and Tal nodded.
“Exactly,” Tal said. “And who do you think will be the leader of that town? Who will they come to for advice and laws and justice? Who will wield power then?”
“Well, I guess it’ll be who leads us to safety,” he said, uncomfortably.
“Do you want Chisul to become our leader when all this is over?” Tal said. “He’s a good enough person, but he’s also selfish and spoiled. Such a dwarf would lead us to ruin.”
Bradok nodded slowly. He hated those kind of political problems, but Tal had a very valid point. Chisul was the kind of dwarf who would crown himself king if he got the chance. If only his father, Silas, were there; he might knock some sense into his son.
“So what do you propose?” he asked Tal.
The doctor’s handsome face twisted into a winning grin, only barely disguised by his short, red beard. “You’re already a better leader than Chisul and he knows it,” he said. “You possess the enchanted compass. You found the food. All you have to do is take charge more decisively, and they’ll follow you instead of him. I’m sure of that.”
Bradok glanced at Rose, who was nodding encouragingly.
Bradok wasn’t sure he wanted the responsibilities they were pushing on him, but Tal had been right about one thing. Chisul was a well-intentioned dwarf who would be a terrible leader. It didn’t take much imagination to see in him another Mayor Arbuckle, down the line. Bradok had to step up and take command—for the sake of everyone.
“I’ll gather more mushrooms,” Rose said, rising. “You two talk it over and figure out which direction we should head in next.”
Bradok smiled as she placed his pack next to hers to fill. He stood up, walked back to the opening he’d hammered in the wall, then moved to stand beneath one of the lanterns. Dallon Ramshorn, the wheelwright from Everguard, had pushed the end of the pole into the soft ground, leaving the lantern suspended above. Bradok took out the compass with a flourish, ensuring anyone in the vicinity would notice him. He felt completely foolish but swallowed his pride and played up checking the compass.
The moment he looked into it, however, all guile vanished. The image of the Seer was back, and she kept jabbing her spear urgently, pointing back the way they came. At first Bradok could not fathom why, but then something dawned on him.
“Everyone,” he said, raising his voice. “I think it’s time to leave.”
Chisul looked up. “Maybe having just eaten,” he said, his voice a confident drawl, “we should take some time to rest and digest.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Bradok said; then he held up the compass for emphasis. “I think something’s wrong, though.”
“What’s she doing now?” Much asked, standing up to look over Bradok’s shoulder.
“Let me see that,” Chisul said, reaching for the compass.
For a moment, Bradok considered not giving it to Chisul, thinking he didn’t want to appear weak. Then he remembered how often that had been Arbuckle and Bladehook’s rationale for their behavior.
Bradok dropped the compass in Chisul’s hand. The moment the other dwarf held the compass, however, the Seer stopped her pointing and crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture of defiance.
“Huh! Do you always have this effect on women?” Rose asked teasingly, elbowing Chisul in the ribs.
Chisul growled and passed the compass back to Bradok whereupon the Seer immediately resumed her frantic pointing.
“Wh
at’s she doing?” Chisul demanded.
“Well, she’s probably just impatient to be gone from here,” Kellik said. “Most magic things have a mind of their own.”
“I hate to be contrary,” Marl Anvil said, “but I agree with Chisul. The children are tired. Everyone’s tired. We need to rest.”
“We could do with a bit of a rest,” Much agreed. The old dwarf lay stretched out with his head against the base of column of rock.
Bradok opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again immediately. A strange, powerful odor suddenly pervaded the cavern—the stench of rot and decay. It seemed to invade his senses, even leaving an aftertaste in his mouth. Poor Lyra felt it come upon her, too, all of a sudden; she collapsed and retched all over the floor. Everywhere dwarves began covering their noses with hands and handkerchiefs in a vain effort to ward off the stench.
Chisul stared hard at Bradok. “I think you’re right after all,” he said. “Everyone get to the hole!” Chisul shouted. “Get the women and children out first!”
“Look!” Halum shouted, pointing.
Bradok turned toward the back of the cavern. A quick glance revealed a pale light glowing from inside the crack at the very back of the area. Someone or something had found them.
As Bradok watched, pale white hands appeared and broke off the edges of the crack, widening the hole. Next emerged five dwarves, or at least five beings who might have been dwarves once. Each had the pale skin, white-blond hair, and reddish eyes of a Daergar, but there the similarities to living Daergar ended. They had strange gray patches on their skin, and each of them seemed to have sprouted glowing mushrooms from various parts of their bodies. Glowing roots spread out under their skin like veins from the errant fungi.
The moment the five strange dwarves entered the chamber, the stench that had preceded their arrival became nearly unbearable.
“Get those children out of here,” Bradok said, breaking the spell that had gripped everyone, their eyes riveted upon the eerie newcomers. Everyone burst back into action.
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
Eyes in the Dark
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 m
ist 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.”
Bradok stopped struggling, and they released him. “I must have dropped it,” he said ashamedly to Rose.
