by Demi Harper
A sense of mutual satisfaction passed between us. She gave me a nod and half-closed her eyes.
I quickly checked on Swift and Cheer. While it was clear the paralyzing venom still had them in its hold, they were alive. I sought out Binky and ordered him to come and guard the Refuge, then froze when Ket screamed, ‘Corey! The shrine!’
Ris’kin’s ears twitched, and an instant later she was haring toward my gem.
I streaked from the battlefield over to the shrine, where my fears were confirmed. Kobolds were streaking through the burning village and up the hill toward my gem. Over by the palisades, I now saw that Graywall’s fighters – seemingly unaware that the enemy had managed to cross the bridge while the warriors had been tending to their debilitating burns – had regrouped and joined Hammer’s schiltron instead of pursuing the other kobolds.
The dozen or so gnomish warriors were battling an equal number of enemies; exhaustion was clearly taking its toll on my gnomes, and I saw one of them fall, simply unable to keep his shield up any longer. A handful of my slingers had managed to return to the now-empty palisades, and were hurling rocks into the press of kobolds, but they too were showing signs of exhaustion.
I had no choice but to leave them to it. On the slopes of the hillock below my shrine, the flames of the burning gnomehomes burned high and bright. A score of kobolds advanced through the destruction; already, my half-dozen remaining militia had become four. Another one fell as I watched; the kobold she was attacking simply side-stepped her wobbly spear thrust, and another kobold came in from the side and severed her weapon arm with a swing of its obsidian sword. The first kobold grabbed her spear, yanked it from her grip, reversed it, and impaled her upon it. Blood spilled from her mouth, and the kobolds yipped gleefully as she fell to her knees.
Enough!
With a couple of seconds’ use of Possession – all I could manage with my near-empty mana reserves – I commanded the remaining three militia fighters to withdraw to the shrine, where Gneil and the acolytes were clustered together on the side facing the village. They all clutched rocks in their fists. Bruce the badger stood firmly in front of the acolytes, flanked by two more of his kin. Before them was a pair of broken and ravaged kobold corpses. Their black blood stained the hilltop like a bruise.
In the burning village below, Ris’kin was now among the kobolds, a whirling blur of red fur and slashing spears. But her movements were growing slower with tiredness, and a dozen of the enemy had skirted her deadly radius and were pursuing the trio of militia fighters up the hill.
One of the militia gnomes stumbled as he reached the top, sprawling forward and dropping his shield and spear, and the leading kobold leapt forward and began hacking into the fallen fighter’s back with its black blade. In moments, the kobold itself was torn apart by the claws and snapping jaws of three furious badgers, but it was too late for my fighter.
‘Corey! The kobolds across the stream have disengaged and are heading this way! Hammer and Graywall are in pursuit, but there’s no way they’ll catch up!’
She was right. The twenty or so kobolds still on the other side of the stream had abandoned their attempts to destroy the gnomes’ shield formation, and were instead racing toward the bridge, perhaps summoned by the triumphant yips of their scaly brethren advancing on the shrine.
Soon there would be thirty or more kobolds at the shrine – and there was nothing I could do about it.
Sixty-Six
Another Option
‘We have to leave, Corey!’ cried Ket. ‘Now!’
‘What? Why—’
‘You’re out of mana, and there are too many of them!’ sobbed the sprite. ‘Even with Bruce and the others, they’ll cut through and they’ll take your gem.’
What was she talking about? ‘We can’t just leave, Ket. We—'
‘We’ve lost, Corey. Have Ris’kin pick up your gem and lead Gneil and the other acolytes through the Refuge. Binky, Bruce and the fighters will cover your escape. We need to leave while we still can, otherwise we’ll lose everything!’
I stared numbly at the scene on the hilltop below. Gneil and my acolytes, arrayed in a semicircle before my gem, clutching their rocks determinedly. In front of them, the two militia, faces bloody, fearfully clutching their spears. In front of them, the badgers, teeth bared and back claws gouging the earth in their eagerness to fight. Down in the village, Ris’kin did her utmost to reduce the number of kobolds that made it up the hill.
‘What are you waiting for?’ moaned Ket. ‘You don’t have enough mana to do anything. There’s nothing you can do. We need to go now!’
She was right. My acolytes had been forced to halt their worship and defend the shrine, which meant my mana had not been replenishing. I had next to nothing left.
But not everything required large quantities of mana.
‘There’s always another option, Ket,’ I told her firmly.
I focused on Gneil – my first ever worshiper, my high cleric, and the most loyal of all my denizens – and activated Divine Inspiration. If this didn’t work on Gneil, it would work on no one.
Gneil’s expression glazed over; he dropped the rock he’d been holding and turned to gaze dreamily at Bruce the badger.
Please, please let this work.
Uncertainty had already begun to tinge Gneil’s look of wonder. He clearly hadn’t forgotten the last time we’d attempted this. But as he turned to watch the kobolds approaching up the slope, Gneil’s posture changed to one of determination.
My high cleric stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. Then he marched forward to where the militia fighter had fallen, and picked up the dead gnome’s shield and spear.
‘Corey? What are you…’ Ket’s voice trailed off in disbelief.
Suitably equipped, Gneil headed straight for Bruce, who eyed the diminutive cleric. After a moment, the badger’s suspicion faded as he and the gnome seemed to reach some sort of agreement. Without further delay, Gneil hauled himself astride Bruce’s silver-gray back – exactly as I’d suggested.
Unlike the last time I’d attempted this particular trick, Bruce did not try to dislodge his new passenger. Instead – to my overwhelming relief and delight – he set his feet firmly and lowered his head toward the approaching kobolds. My acolytes stared in bewildered wonder.
‘What… Corey… the militia!’ Ket squeaked.
I stared down in shock as the pair of remaining militia fighters, spurred on by Gneil’s bravery, clambered aboard the other two badgers. That, I had not been expecting. The badgers shuffled nervously, but held steady, perhaps likewise inspired by Bruce’s example. The instant the gnomes were mounted, Gneil raised his spear and bellowed wordlessly.
‘Charge!’ I cried along with him.
Gneil kicked his heels into Bruce’s flank and the badger surged forward down the hill, followed by the other two. The oncoming kobolds stopped and stared as they attempted to comprehend what they were seeing. Before they could reach enlightenment, the three badgers smashed into them, knocking the kobolds to the ground and crushing them beneath their weight.
The momentum of their charge carried them down the slope and into the village, where they swept through the fire and smoke, leaving a half-dozen kobolds prone and groaning in their wake. Ris’kin raised a triumphant spear at the sight of the charging badgers, then returned to finishing off the handful of kobolds that remained in the village.
Gneil and Bruce led the other two badger riders in a thundering charge toward the bridge, where the twenty or so kobolds who’d been battling my melee fighters were just beginning to cross. When they caught side of the badger cavalry, the kobolds’ gleeful advance became a panicked retreat. Those already on the bridge shoved at those behind them, desperately trying to get out of the way of the oncoming charge, while those at the back simply turned and fled.
The badgers plowed through the struggling mass of kobolds. Those that weren’t crushed beneath the badgers’ weight or mauled by their vicious claws were pushe
d off the sides of the bridge and into the water, where they were picked off one by one by the slingers atop the palisade.
The kobolds that had tried to flee now found themselves face to face with a wall of red-and-white shields and bristling spears. Hammer and Graywall’s warriors stood firm, spears ready. One kobold’s panicked momentum took it right into the shield wall, impaling itself upon the waiting spears. Some of the others skidded to a halt, only to be mowed down by the pursuing badgers, while others attempted to sprint around the shield-bearing warriors. I didn’t see what became of them, however, because a sudden realization had filled me with panic of my own.
There had been a score or more kobolds among the first wave that had made it to the village. Our charge had swept away at least half a dozen on its way to the bridge, and Ris’kin was taking care of the rest, but that still left a handful of enemies unaccounted for.
Dread filled me like ice water and I rushed back toward my shrine to see my fears confirmed. Five kobolds were creeping up the far side of the hill. I called desperately to Ris’kin, who had just felled the last of the enemies in the burning village. My avatar was clearly exhausted by this point, but she began to stumble up the hill toward the shrine at the summit.
Faster, I urged her. Faster!
I also summoned Binky. The big spider was still guarding the Refuge, but at my command he scuttled up the wall and began to make his way across the ceiling.
‘He’s not going to make it in time,’ I uttered.
As I watched in horror, my lack of mana leaving me helpless to intervene in any way, the foremost kobold placed one clawed foot on the base of the shrine and lifted its red-scaled hands toward my gem, ignoring the rocks that were being thrown ineptly at it by my acolytes. Despair, hot and caustic, flooded my very essence. If they took my gem, all would be lost.
‘Ris’kin’s almost here!’ breathed Ket. ‘We haven’t lost yet, Corey!’
The kobold’s clawed fingers scraped against my gem—
—and something large and heavy dropped through the hole in the ceiling, instantly crushing the beast.
I stared wordlessly in shock as the armored figure climbed to its feet, muttering and swearing.
‘Coll?’ A concerned female voice echoed down through the ceiling hole.
‘I’m okay,’ the big man called back. Then he caught sight of the four remaining kobolds climbing the hilltop, drew his hammer, and started swinging.
The kobolds that had been advancing on my acolytes backed away at the sight of the warrior’s rampaging form. Flea – the only one of the four badgers not currently being ridden by a battle-mad gnome – had followed Binky over, and snapped his teeth at the kobolds warningly.
A scuffling sound from above announced the arrival of a second human, then a third, both of them dropping down to the hilltop with distinctly more grace than Coll’s unceremonious entrance. In the combined light of the moon and the flames from the burning gnomehomes, I saw Benin and Tiri, both staring around the Grotto with wide eyes and open mouths.
The remaining couple of kobolds turned tail and fled the hilltop, only to be set upon by Binky, Flea and Ris’kin.
Across the stream, the other kobolds were also fleeing. Only a handful yet survived; they dropped their weapons and sprinted for the entranceway. My gnomes let them leave. It was clear the kobolds would not be returning any time soon.
Benin and Coll made to follow them, but Tiri raised a hand. ‘No. We know where they’re going. We’ll catch up to them soon.’ She rummaged in her satchel and pulled out the map I’d seen her carrying last time.
While she studied it carefully, whispering to herself, Benin conjured his customary hand-held flame and Coll wiped black kobold blood from the head of his hammer.
‘Corey, we did it. They’re gone.’ Ket sounded disbelieving. ‘It’s over.’
I scanned the carnage. There was no sign of a single living kobold. All around the Grotto, gnome warriors were helping each other up, limping over to unbloodied areas and bandaging wounds, and, in far too many cases, kneeling beside fallen companions.
Ket was right.
It was over.
Sixty-Seven
A Heavy Price
The once-peaceful Grotto was a scene of carnage.
Over sixty gnomes and nearly twice as many kobolds lay dead. Blood both red and black stained the ground in spurts and patches, darkening the earth and spilling into the clear stream like ink.
For too long, the gnomes had proven easy prey for Grimrock. Well, no longer. As the battle had dragged on and the combatants on both sides gradually grew more exhausted, the gnomes’ discipline and training had won out against the kobolds’ superior numbers. They hadn’t just defended themselves; they’d sent a message.
But we had paid a heavy price for our victory. Smoke from burned buildings cast a pall over the Grotto. The blackened skeletons of the three destroyed gnomehomes huddled forlornly at the base of the hill, still smoking, embers glowing at their centers. Thankfully, the creche was more or less undamaged; along with the barracks and the other two surviving gnomehomes, there were still places for at least some of the gnomes to reside until the homes could be rebuilt.
The cost in lives would not be so easily repaired.
A mere fifteen of my warriors – less than a quarter of our original fighting force – remained standing. The rest had not been so lucky. As I scanned the bodies that carpeted the Grotto, I counted a total of fifty-four fallen gnomes. Our losses were small compared to the kobolds – more than a hundred of the scaled creatures lay dead throughout the Grotto – but they still hit me hard.
Though none as hard as Granny’s sacrifice.
She lay on her back beside the stream, her stern, wizened features peaceful in death. Swift and Cheer, recovering from their paralysis, knelt beside the ancient gnome. Tears streamed openly down their faces.
Behind them, the rest of my denizens were climbing down from the safe hole. Every one of them was unharmed. The children clung to their nurses, affixing themselves to their legs and causing them considerable difficulty in their attempts to climb back down to the ground. When they caught sight of Jack and Elwood’s corpses, the nurses quickly covered the children’s eyes and hurried them away from the scene.
All four badgers had survived the battle, though two of them were now limping a little. Poor Bruce was missing an eye, the result of an unlucky slash from a wildly swinging kobold sword. The only uninjured badger, Flea, had allowed himself to be harnessed to the travois and was now assisting the warriors in gathering their fallen kin and pulling them over to the stream to lie beside Granny. My avatar walked gravely beside them, her fur matted with the black blood of the enemy.
Some of the warriors had smeared the blood in horizontal streaks across their cheeks, perhaps as a sign of grief, or perhaps mimicking Ris’kin’s warlike new markings. The contrast between my gnomes now and when I’d first laid eyes on them was almost too stark to believe.
The humans were waiting over near the Grotto entrance. Benin was taking this opportunity to get a proper look at my denizens, who were giving the humans a wide berth.
‘Are you two seeing this?’
The mage was gazing around, open-mouthed. A badger ambled past and sniffed his boot. He bent to pet it. It snapped at his fingers. Benin quickly withdrew his hand, and the badger continued going about its business.
Coll was nodding. ‘They’re like… miniature people,’ he said wonderingly.
Tiri smiled. ‘Gnomes,’ she told him. ‘They’re gnomes.’
‘What? I thought they were extinct.’ Benin caught sight of a pair of warriors. ‘Oh, look at their little shields! They’re so small! And… oh, they’re made from mushrooms!’
Their reactions came as a pleasant – and amusing – surprise, especially that of the normally moody mage. And to think I’d been worried about the humans’ potentially gnomophobic attitudes!
But it seemed Tiri shared some of my former concerns.
&
nbsp; ‘I thought they were extinct too. Everyone does,’ she told Benin. She shook her head. ‘The Guild can’t find out about this.’
Coll gave a snort. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be telling ‘em anything.’
‘Me neither,’ said Benin sourly. ‘Not after they refused to help us.’
Tiri sighed. ‘I still don’t understand,’ she admitted. ‘At the very least, they should have sent someone back with us to investigate Lila and Cassandria’s deaths, and to attempt to recover their bodies. But to listen to what we told them about the evil Core and then choose to do nothing?’
‘And it came from the Guildmaster himself,’ said Coll glumly. ‘You should’ve seen the looks on the other warriors’ faces when I tried to convince them to come back here with us. No one would ever dare defy the Guildmaster.’
‘We did,’ Benin pointed out. ‘We’re here, aren’t we?’
‘Yes,’ said Tiri, ‘and we have a job to finish.’
She shouldered her pack and turned to face the Passage. In one hand she held her charcoal-drawn map, in the other an alchemical light globe just like the one Coll had once thrown down a hole. They might not have found allies at the Guild, but it seemed they’d at least managed to resupply.
I was astounded that they’d defied their Guild’s master in order to come back here and finish off Grimrock. And just in time, too. If Coll hadn’t leaped through the ceiling when that kobold had reached for my gem, who knew what might have happened? I shuddered to think of my gem in Grimrock’s possession.
‘The humans returned here of their own volition, in spite of their guild’s indifference?’ Ket said, awed. ‘Why?’
‘I’m just glad they’re on our side,’ I told her. My mind was already turning to less pleasant matters. ‘Grimrock’s first action after his defeat will surely be to restore Snagga immediately, right?’
‘Most likely,’ said Ket. ‘He’ll probably have to sacrifice some of his remaining denizens to ensure he has the power to do so,’ she added in distaste.
