The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,158

She looked Mallenia in the eye. “It was you he stole the kiss from, not me. My jealousy is bound to be stronger than yours.”

Mallenia hesitated. “Well, if you say so… But I think he saw it as a sort of game. It wasn’t serious. He has no idea how I feel about him.”

They smiled at each other and both turned to look at Rodario, who seemed to sense their eyes on him. He swiveled round to meet the double gaze, and waved before turning back to his discussion with Ireheart.

“Men.” Mallenia drew out her sword and proceeded to sharpen it.

Coïra cut herself a slice of ham. “You’re better off than me.”

“How do you mean?” asked Mallenia.

“You’re good with weapons. I need magic to defend myself. And without a magic source my inner reserves are quickly exhausted.” The maga chewed on the tasty meat. “And I’m not terribly brave. I’ve never needed to be.”

“You’re joking! You stood up to the älfar!”

“But I had lots of magic power in me then. No bravery required.”

“You said you got some energy from the source in Lakepride when it was released in the explosion.” Mallenia raised her head. “So you’ve got enough to cast some spells?”

“Of course. But it’s not nearly as much as I would have absorbed on my normal long exposure.” She spoke hesitantly. “I’m pinning my hopes on finding another source in the Red Mountains.”

Now the Ido girl was paying close attention. She picked up the flask again. “If this pouch represents your potential reservoir, how much would you say you had at the moment?”

Coïra unscrewed the top and let the contents pour out in a thin stream until there was only a third left. Wordlessly, she put the lid back on and handed it back.

“Is that all?”

The maga shook her head. “That’s it. But it’ll be enough to deal with the orcs. The new source will give me back all my previous strength.”

“And it won’t be difficult to locate?”

“I have a feel for such things. There is a spell for detecting the presence of magic. That’ll help a lot.”

Mallenia gave her attention to her second sword. “You were right. I’d rather rely on cold steel for my defense.”

Rodario came over to them. “And here we have the most enchanting ladies in all Girdlegard,” he greeted them cheerily. “And the most powerful.”

“He’s overdoing it,” Mallenia said to Coïra. “And anyway, enchanting would only apply to the maga.” She picked up her sword and pointed it at Rodario. “I, on the other hand, am as sharp as steel and have winning ways, Rodario the Seventh.” She flashed her eyes at him maliciously, while the dark-haired girl put her hand quickly over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

A bewildered Rodario turned from one to the other. “I get the impression that something has been cooked up in my absence. I feel I am the focus of a conspiracy.”

“No. Don’t worry. We wouldn’t concern ourselves with trivial things,” the maga returned, with a wink, helping herself to more food.

A Zhadár came back into camp with the news that the five gates were now open. At once the dwarves, together with the remains of the decimated Black Squadron, set off to join the Invisibles.

“They’ve not been gone long,” Slîn said to Balyndar, loading his crossbow as he walked. They left the cave together and ran down to the valley through the rain.

“I’d have liked to have seen it all, but they wouldn’t let me go with them.” Ireheart was curious about the Invisibles’ special skills.

“It was probably better this way.” Tungdil pulled out Bloodthirster. “It wouldn’t have been your sort of fight, Ireheart. You’re not silent when you attack orcs: You normally brandish your crow’s beak, yell and swear a lot, and smash up their armor. It gets quite loud.”

A Zhadár stood waiting for them at the first of the wooden gates, now open.

As they hurried through they saw a couple of dozen orcs lying in the mud, with their throats cut. Others had received dents and slashes to their armor and some had their heads entirely missing.

This image was regularly repeated. A Zhadár stood at each of the gates with massacred guards behind him in the mire.

Ireheart was impressed. “Well, fry me an elf!” he murmured.

At last they arrived at the pass that led to the Red Mountains. The orcs had erected a further wooden palisade; this time it was Barskalín who was waiting for them.

“We killed the sentries like you said,” he reported