The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,213

never criticize a crossbow again. Or Slîn, for that matter,” Ireheart mumbled. He stood up, dusted himself off and stepped out into the sun. Now he could see the extent of the damage: Flying weapons had sunk into the very walls.

“I don’t believe it,” said Balyndar, looking at Slîn, who was grinning as he reloaded his crossbow. “What are those bolts made of? Let’s use them against Lot-Ionan!”

Coïra and Mallenia suddenly stood before them. It was obvious who they really had to thank for their deliverance. Slîn made a face, and the fifthling laughed.

They retrieved their own weapons from the tumble of iron and steel, not forgetting Keenfire, before hurrying to join the ladies.

“We were just in time,” said Mallenia, staring at the alleyway that bristled with weapons. “We met similar creatures back where we were resting.”

Vraccas—I’ve a bone to pick with her! Ireheart planted himself squarely in front of the maga. “Didn’t you tell us there was no magic here? Perhaps you’re not as good at your job as you profess to be,” he complained, until Rodario interrupted.

“Not now! We have to get back to protect the others from the water-creature. There was a stone creature following us as well, but Coïra dealt with that one.” Mallenia supported her friend, who had gone very pale in spite of the sunburn. Ireheart feared she might have next to no magic powers still at her disposal. “Follow us.”

The dwarves checked behind and then the five of them clambered over bricks and broken roof tiles to reach the jewelry market. Mallenia explained to them that the debris represented the remnants of the disintegrated stone monster that had been chasing the girls.

“Will there be enough for one more spell?” the Ido girl whispered to her as they walked.

“There will, but I can only do weak spells now. It’ll be enough to break up a shape formed from magic, but it won’t be powerful enough to eradicate it completely. We must leave town,” she urged breathlessly. “The magic fields are tied to this place. We’ll be safer out in the desert.”

Mallenia cursed Bumina and the trap she had set, which had been intended for Franek and not for them.

They reached the square and found puddles everywhere. Rodario lay on the ground coughing and spluttering, trying to collect up his papers but then discarding them in disgust. Tungdil’s armor was steaming gently and his hair hung down wet, as if he had just taken a bath.

“What happened, Scholar?” Ireheart helped Rodario up.

“The magic cannot withstand my armor. The water-shape left as soon as it tried to swallow me,” he said grimly, turning to Coïra. “And your advice is?”

“To leave. We cannot destroy the magic, but it cannot get away from here,” she said, holding her side. Her right forearm felt as if it were made of raw flesh—which was in fact the case when magic was not sustaining it. It would not be long before she lost the limb.

“Right, then we’ll do that before the next…” Tungdil stopped, fascinated by the ax Ireheart bore in his left hand. The ax head was glowing, the inlays and the diamonds shining out dazzling as any star. “What, by all that’s infamous…?”

Ireheart likewise noted the way Keenfire was glowing. “It wasn’t doing that just now,” he said, taken aback. He saw Barskalín come out of a shop doorway. “Ah, that explains it. The ax doesn’t like the Zhadár.” He lifted it up and studied it carefully. “By Vraccas! It must be the real Keenfire!” he exclaimed, when he realized what was happening. “Scholar, your old weapon has made its way back to you!!” He went over to the one-eyed dwarf and held out the ax. “Take it. It is back with its rightful master—a fit weapon for a high king.”

Tungdil looked at it and Boïndil thought he saw fear in Tungdil’s eyes. “Give it to Balyndar,” he ordered after a while. “My weapon is Bloodthirster.”

“Scholar!” exclaimed Ireheart, horrified. Three steps backwards!

“Bloodthirster has been with me for hundreds of cycles and we know each other now.” He pointed to the fifthling. “He is the son of the valiant dwarf-woman who was there when Keenfire was forged. The ax will be aware of the connection and will serve him now as well as it ever served me.” He called Barskalín over and gave orders to set off immediately.

Ireheart pressed Keenfire into Balyndar’s hand. The ax head was still shimmering, and would presumably continue to do so as long as the