His eyes cut to a pile of dark, scorched clothing. The dwarf?
Tane continued over to the forge. The heat off it proved otherworldly intense. Beyond it, against the back wall, sat a dozen crucibles and everything he needed to create crucible steel: iron ore, charcoal, sand, glass, and clay. And an impossibly hot furnace.
“Gather up all the pieces,” Tane said, picking up the broken sword at his feet.
They gathered next to the anvil, dumping the four broken swords on the table. Tane quickly removed the hilts. If nothing else, he could reuse them on the new Swords of Power.
“How long will it take to make four Swords of Power?” Quinn asked.
“About a week,” he said. An odd warmth infused his head. He looked up at the heavens. “But maybe not so long, so… Let’s get started”
He had two options. First, he could weld the broken blades back together. That would require a lot of hammering, heating, folding. Or he could start with a crucible of newly forged steel.
“This is what I’m going to do,” Tane said, going over to pick up a crucible. He started packing on iron ore. The ore was already smashed pretty finely, saving him a lot of time. Then he added some charcoal, sand, and glass. “I’m going to start the process to create new crucible steel in the furnace, but I’ll start welding one of the broken blades back together while I’m waiting for it to melt.”
“Really?” Quinn said, grimacing. “Is welding a blade back together the best idea?”
He shrugged. “It’s not the best answer, but it will work for what we need. These Swords of Power are not being made to fight a God, but to seal the portal. It’s unlikely they be tested enough to break.
“Besides, I can weld and hammer out a new blade in the time it’ll take to melt the iron in the crucible.”
“It’ll be a good warm up,” Joelle said. “And give us an actual Sword of Power faster, just in case.”
“In case of what?” Raven asked. “Do you think Dakar will come back here to fight us?”
Tane froze. She spoke the words no one else wanted to. Tane didn’t think Dakar could return so fast. But he was a God. And they didn’t fare so well last time they faced the Black God.
“Yes. Definitely need to get a Sword of Power made as quickly as possible,” Tane said, with the others nodding.
With the crucible filled with all the ingredients of steel, Tane used some of the clay to seal the crucible shut. He checked the furnace, which remained mind-numbing hot without any fuel that the swordsmith could see. It was just a domed oven, really. So Tane pushed the crucible in using his sword.
“Damn, that’s hot,” Raven said after he closed the furnace door. “Are you sure it won’t melt your steel really fast?”
“I suspect it will do the job quickly, but I still have to wait for the crucible to cool and harden. In the meantime, I’ll get started.”
Tane chose a broken sword with both pieces of the blade of the same length. He placed both pieces in the forge fire, watching them heat up white hot so fast it left him breathless.
He had Quinn help hold the two pieces together, and began hammering. Tane welded them together my hammering them flat, and then folding them, before hamming them out again. Over and over. He folded the blank five times. And then he started hammering it out into a blade.
Chapter 84
Nizar!
The priest jumped to his feet, wild-eyed.
What are you doing up there in the city? The swordsmith is in the dwarven city below as we speak! He’s at the forge in the Great Temple!
“What? Impossible, we should be several days ahead of him.”
Idiot! How can you keep underestimating him?
Nizar’s heart sank into his belly. There was no arguing with a God. Dakar knew far more than he could ever know. If his God said the swordsmith was down in the dwarven city, then that’s where Nizar had to go. Immediately.
Hurry, you imbecile! Dakar shouted in his head. I have four Arisen Gods arrayed against me right now; otherwise, I’d personally go and take care of them.
“We’re on our way,” Nizar said. He turned to the wide-eyed innkeeper. “Saddle our horses. Hurry!”
He waited for the innkeep to run off to do his bidding, before heading upstairs. Nizar stopped to pound on Jessy’s door.
“Get up, you lazy girl! We are leaving right now!”
Nizar rushed into his room. He pulled on his heavy winter robes. Jessy waited with big eyes when he exited his room.
“Tane is in the city?”
“No. He’s under the city,” Nizar said. “Come, I’ll explain as we ride to the entrance.”
He led the teenager downstairs, and out the back door. The innkeep had Jessy’s horse out, with the saddle in hand. Nizar ordered Jessy to saddle her own horse, so the innkeep could saddle his. He watched them working, trying to figure out how Tane got to Caeren so fast. And, more importantly, he had to figure out the best tactic against the swordsmith and his companions. Throw Jessy at them first thing? Or hold her back for a surprise attack?
“The horses are ready,” Jessy said, holding the reins to both.
She looked a little wild-eyed. He wondered if she was just rattled by the suddenness of their situation, or was having doubts about fighting her cousin? He felt rattled, too. But Dakar showed him the way.
Tane Kyleson will submit to me, and Dakar, today, or we will kill him and his friends.
Chapter 85
The hammer rang loudly on the hot steel, echoing through the vast emptiness. He’d taken over completely, leaving nothing for any of his friends to do. They were not trained for any of it, so it was easier and faster to do everything himself.
The hammer came down again, while his critical eyes scanned the length of steel. He already knew where the next ten blows would fall. The blade was almost to its full length and breadth. Ten more strikes, and he’d start on the fullers.
The crucible is ready.
Was that just a thought? Or a Sending by Kamain? Tane’s heart started to hammer, his hand tightening on the hammer. And then he stood tall, placed the black blade back in the forge fire, before turning to the furnace.
He put on a heavy leather apron and a clay “helmet” with two thin eye slits. Last of all, he pulled on heavy, multilayered gloves and picked up the long tongs. Opening the furnace, he reached in with the tongs and quickly pulled out the crucible. Setting it aside to cool and harden, Tane shed all the protective clothing and turned to the blade.
“Why aren’t you starting on the real Sword of Power?” Raven asked.
“This is a real Sword of Power I’m working on,” he said. “The steel has even been blessed by Kamain. I’m almost finished with it. Besides, the steel is still molten in the crucible, and will need a few hours to harden.”
“This is taken a lot longer than I thought it would,” she said.
“Really? It’s all going at breakneck speed for me,” Tane said. “I feel like a man possessed. I have to get it done. Now. Time is running out faster than I think. No time. No time.”
He pulled the welded blade out of the fire, the steel the color of the rising sun.
“All I need to do is make the fuller, engrave the runes, and then polish and sharpen,” Tane said.
“How long?” Quinn asked.
“A day’s work normally,” he said. “A couple hours today.” He looked up and held Quinn’s eyes. “Kamain is with me.”
“Are you sure the blade will be good?” the half-elf asked.
“Good enough for our purpose,” Tane said. “I’m sure we can banish Dakar with it, and then I’ll make four new swords to permanently seal him out of our world.”
Tane returned to his work. The blade had to be finished. No time left. Finish it.
Chapter 86
Nizar led Jessy through the twisting, narrow streets ahorse. The citizenry quickly got out of their way, before bowing low to the gray-robed priest. They still slowed him down too much. Dakar continued to push him faster,
faster.
“Hurry, Jessy!”
“I’m right here,” she cried. “Don’t worry about me.”
The main gate stood open. Another priest stood with the guards, and waved them through. From the frazzled look on the other priest’s face, Dakar had touched him that morning, too. Nizar was grateful, because gate guards always delayed anyone in a hurry to enter or leave.
The road hugged the side of the hill all the way down into the valley surrounding the city. Nizar spotted the turn up ground and cleared trees leading to the underground city’s entrance. They left the trees and underbrush cut down lying where it fell, so they had to dismount and leave the horses behind. The mess would slow his progress even afoot.
“The incompetent responsible for this mess should be laid across an altar,” Nizar grumbled.
“What?” Jessy asked. “You can’t be serious.”
Nizar stopped his vicious reply just in time. Keeping up the pretense of an Arisen priest in disguise proved more difficult than he thought it would be. At least the game was almost over. Soon, Tane would be Dakar’s to command, or both he and this cousin would be sacrificed. Either way, he’d be rid of that vile teenage girl.
“Of course I am,” Nizar said, forcing out a calming tone. “But even priest can get frustrated. Forgive me if I am brusque with you.”
“I’m fine,” she said, though continued to give him wary looks. “But you can be a little scary at time.”
He nodded, and stepped off the road. The path plunged down into the valley well below the trade road. They tried to pass through the woods to the side, to avoid all the fallen trees, but that area proved too steep and treacherous.
Even more annoying that the debris was Jessy’s effortless ability to traverse it. Nizar struggled, but she seemed to dance across the top of everything. He decided it was growing up in the deep forest that taught her such skills. Or it was a gift children possessed that adults didn’t anymore.
They arrived at the dig site with Nizar huffing and puffing, and Jessy completely fresh. He scowled at her, and then snarled at the chaos before him. The mercenaries in charge didn’t seem to be controlling the dig much at all.
The great bronze doors looked more black than verdigris green, with a few spots shining through where a rock, shovel, or pick and scratched through. Nizar estimated half of the doors were exposed, so there was a lot more digging to do.
“Who is in command here?” Nizar shouted. “Report to me! I am Nizar, Priest of Dakar!”
A trio of grim looking barbarians headed his way. They looked to be old soldiers, left behind because they were more useful commanding work teams than in combat. The entranced people continued their digging and hauling away of soil and rocks.
“Yes, Your Grace?” a graybeard asked. He wore an iron helmet, and mail vest over blue wool tunic, trousers, and boots. His companions were similarly dressed, with just a little less gray hair. “I am Trahmar. How may I serve you?”
“How long will it take to dig out the rest of that door?”
“Week, maybe.”
“Unacceptable,” Nizar said even before he felt a burn in the back of his head. “I need inside immediately.” He looked at the door again. Just bronze. “I’ll blast it open.”
Nizar turned to face the entry. He closed his eyes and started a soft prayer, which Dakar responded to immediately. His hands began to glow.
“Wait!” Jessy cried. “There are people down there. You’ll kill them.”
“They’re just zombies,” Trahmar said.
“They are living people,” Jessy said. “What is wrong with you?”
“She’s right,” Nizar said, hating how he had to pander to the stupid teen. “Order everyone out of the way. And be fast about it.”
He could tell that Dakar wasn’t pleased. But Trahmar and his men quickly rousted the zombies out of the way. And then Nizar continued.
Praying, he gathered up all the energy Dakar granted him, focusing it through his hands. Once he reached the limit of what Dakar would, or could, give him, Nizar opened his eyes, focused on one point on the doors…
And he sent the most powerful bolt of energy he could imagine into that door.
Ka-BOOM!
Instead of ripping and melting the bronze, his bolt exploded back at them. Everyone was thrown back. Jessy cried out. And Nizar found himself flying backwards, until he slammed into something hard.
Darkness enveloped him.
~**~**~
“What was that?” Tane asked.
The explosion shook the floor and walls. Dust trailed down from the ceiling. His friends all pulled their swords and looked at the temple door.
“I think someone really wants inside,” Raven said. “To the main door!”
Raven took off running. She was out the door before anyone else moved. Then Joelle took off, followed by Armin. Quinn hesitated a moment later.
“Will you be all right alone?”
“Yes. What are you going to do?”
Quinn shrugged. “Stop whoever is coming through that door, I guess.” The half-elf headed for the temple door, but stopped just inside and looked back. “Let’s hope it isn’t the Black God.”
Tane nodded, feeling the press of time more profoundly. He turned back to hammering out the fuller. It was almost done, and then he had to engrave the runes. No time for inlays. Something deep within assured him that engravings would be good enough.
At least, he prayed so.
~**~**~
“He’s waking up,” Jessy said.
He felt a soft, small hand stroke his cheek. That made his eyes snap open.
“You took off my veil?” he cried, and almost backhanded her.
“No, the blast must have,” she said, leaning back with a look of alarm.
Nizar scrambled to his feet, finding most of the mercenaries were standing around him. None of them looked particularly impressed by him. And then a little searching found his turban, with the heavy veil still attached.
Once he was decent, Nizar turned back to the problem before him. The verdigris was blasted away where his bolt struck, but he couldn’t discern any damage whatsoever. He went down to the doors, laying hands on the bronze.
Reaching out with God-enhanced senses, he was shocked to discover he couldn’t penetrate the door. After a few prayers, he figured it out. A magical barrier protected the doors from being damaged by magic. Whether Tane, the witch, or ancient dwarves placed it there was unknown, but his God given magic was not going to breach those doors.
“Trahmar! Find the biggest tree bole you can lift. We’re going to use it to batter down that door!”
Chapter 87
Boom!
Quinn jumped back, pulling his sword. Armin and Raven pulled their blades, too, while Joelle called up her talismanic ring bow.
“What was that?” Armin asked. “That sounded different.”
Boom!
The half-elf’s eyes locked on the huge bronze doors, noticing how they vibrated. Tendrils of dust fell in the entry chamber, with most coming down closer to the door.
“Battering ram,” Quinn said.
Boom!
“The doors are holding,” Armin said. He pointed to either side of the entry. “But not the walls.”
Quinn looked closer, and spotted the cracks. Huge bolts driven deep into the stone held the hinges in place, and that pounding had already caused the stone to start crumbling around them.
Boom!
“That sucks goblin balls,” Raven said.
Joelle grimaced. “Eww.”
“Funny thing about goblin balls,” Raven said, a mischievous smirk spreading. “They only have one each.”
“What? No way,” Joelle said.
“How would you know?” Armin asked.
Raven’s face lit up.
“Don’t answer that!” Quinn cried. He looked at Armin. “Why would you ask her that?”
Raven just laughed, and then her eyes narrowed as she turned back to the door
when the sound of crunching stone came to them upon the next ram strike. Quinn noticed the upper hinges were crumbling the fastest, and remembered they’d only dug halfway down the doors.
“Be alert!” he cried. “The door can’t take much more.”
As if to prove his point, the battering ram struck again, and the top hinges broke loose of the stone. They froze, jaws dropping as the massive bronze doors seem to topple back into the entry in slow motion.
Marble shattered when the doors struck, and the most gods-awful sound shook the entryway. A cloud of dust flew up to obstruct their view of the now yawning portal, sunlight slanting in and illuminating the dust cloud and the landslide that caused it.
Dark, shuffling shapes came down the landslide through the dust. At first a few, and them more and more. The entry began to fill up with zombies.
“Now?” Joelle asked.
“Wait for the men commanding them,” Quinn said. “The zombies will stop when we kill the priests.”
“Says who?” Raven asked.
A warrior came through, pushing the zombies aside. He started shouting orders, pointing at Quinn and friends.
“Take him out,” Quinn said.
Joelle thrust her left arm out, holding the bright bow of pure magic energy. Her right hand moved up to the thin “bowstring.” An energy arrow appeared already nocked, and she drew it back. The witch released immediately, and Quinn watched at flash of light fly straight into the warrior’s chest. And the man’s chest exploded.
Zombies turned toward them, and started walking. Joelle began striking them down, one-by-one. Quinn groaned. They were the enemy. They were definitely a threat. But they weren’t evil. They were victims of and evil God and his priesthood.
“Some of them are entering the side doors,” Raven said. “They might find a way to circle around behind us.”
“Or get to Tane while we’re up here,” Armin said.
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