Downfall ds-1

by Jean Rabe

  "Too bad Rikali can't see me," he mused. "Says she's had enough of dwarves. This'd give her a good chuckle." The image's eyes widened in surprise, and Fetch gulped. Above his mirrored face was the image of a real dwarf, one with narrowed steely gray eyes, and one with thick fingers wrapped around the haft of a battle-axe that was plunging down toward him.

  "Mai!" the kobold sputtered as he whirled away.

  The dwarf had swung his axe hard and missed Fetch only by inches, striking instead the crystal and shattering it.

  Shards pelted Fetch as his image was melting off him like butter. The kobold rolled again, squealing when the axe sliced through his butterfly sleeve.

  "Mai! Company, Mai!" The kobold sprang to his feet and started scrabbling down the mountainside, feet slipping on gravel as he went. A quarrel whizzed over his head as he ducked behind a hornblend spire. He risked a peek out the other side. "Th-th-there's four of ‘em," he sputtered. "Four very angry dwarves. And me without my hoopak."

  * * * * * * *

  "This one must weigh close to three pounds, huh?" Rikali tossed over a pear-shaped crystal that was uniformly pale yellow in color.

  "What is it?" Dhamon caught it and hefted it in his palm, then carefully placed it in his canvas sack. He was using the scraps of a shredded cloak to pad the crystals so they wouldn't jostle against each other and chip. Three already-full canvas sacks sat at his feet. There were nearly three dozen more large sacks already loaded on the wagon.

  "Citrine," she said. "A type of quartz. Not as valuable as some of the other stuff we've been takin', but that one'U cut really fine. More valuable because of its size, though."

  "How'd you learn so much about gems?"

  She puffed herself up, smiling. "Dhamon Grimwulf, I decided at a very young age that I wasn't gonna be poor like my parents. So I fell in with a small guild of thieves. My dad… my parents're both half-elves… anyway, my dad disowned me, he did, not that I minded. Said he didn't approve of how I made my livin'. My folks were horribly poor, barely makin' their way as fishermen in a village on the shore of Blood Bay." She shook her head as if casting off the inconvenient memory. There was no trace of regret in her eyes. "The guild schooled me-in all the things important to becomin' wealthy. Such as how to recognize good stones, how to tell which houses are likely filled with the most valuables, where to fence things, how to pick pockets and cut coin purses from a man's belt. I'd still be with them if I hadn't tried to pick Mai's pocket when he was strollin' big-as-you-please along the Sanction docks. Caught me, he did-and took me in and taught me other things, like how to rob merchant wagons and scam folks and to always be movin'. No roots sproutin' from the bottoms of my feet anymore. No percentage to give the guild." She studied his face a moment. "Why hadn't you asked me before now?"

  Dhamon shrugged. "I guess I wasn't curious." She discarded a cracked chunk of opal, picked up another large piece of citrine and passed it to him. "Wonder how Mai is doin'?" she mused, looking around a gypsum outcropping and searching for the big man. "There he is. Way down there." She watched Maldred a moment, enjoying the view his sweat-slick, muscular body presented, then she waved. But Maldred wasn't looking in her direction. He was staring up and to his right, and his hand was reaching for the great sword strapped to his back. "Trouble," she hissed, turning her head to see what had caught his attention. "Fetch got himself into more trouble. He's worthless."

  Dhamon sped by her, navigating around the gypsum spires, dropping his sack of gems as he tugged the broadsword from his belt.

  * * * * * * *

  Maldred reached Fetch just as another two dwarves appeared. "A half-dozen," the big man growled. "And there'll be more coming if we don't take them out quick. Might be more coming anyway." He immediately sized up his opponents. "Stay down," he told the kobold. Then he was dodging quarrels from their crossbow bolts, bringing his sword around to parry some that «thwanged» off the blade as he scrabbled over the loose gravel and gems. As he neared, he shouldered his sword, bent down, and scooped up a handful of rocks, bringing his arm over his back and hurling them at the closest dwarf. Several found their marks, and one of the dwarves dropped his crossbow and rubbed furiously at his eyes.

  The others were loosening battle-axes from their waists and readying to meet Maldred's charge. He shouted as he closed the distance. "You haven't a chance against me! Lose your weapons and I'll spare your lives!"

  The thickest of the quartet laughed loud and deep. He stopped only when Maldred was upon them, swinging his massive blade. The sword practically cut the lead dwarf in two, and then Maldred drew back the weapon and brought it down to cleave off the arm of another dwarf. One of the others started scrambling up the hill, calling for support, this being the one who had laughed so heartily. The rest gritted their teeth and one hollered, "Die, trespasser!"

  "Life is precious," Maldred said as he drew back his blade again, muscles tensing and veins bulging. "You are very foolish to throw it away."

  The dwarves were dead by the time Dhamon reached Maldred. Dhamon sheathed his sword, knelt, and tugged a thong free from one of the dwarves' necks. Dangling from it was a large, beautifully cut diamond, the largest he'd seen. Dhamon hung it around his own neck and started searching the other bodies, retrieving finished stones set in gold and silver and stuffing them into his pockets.

  The big man was shielding his eyes from the light of the crystals in the rocks and craning his neck up the mountainside, looking for the dwarf who got away. "Can't see in this glare. But I know we'll have company soon," he told Dhamon.

  "Aye. Let's take what we've gathered and get out of here. And let's be quick. We certainly have more than enough to buy the sword. We could buy all of Bloten, I suspect, with what we've gained."

  Fetch grabbed his sacks, struggling under the weight and making his way slowly up the mountainside. Mal-dred glanced back at his collecting spot, where four bulging bags waited. "Very quick," he added to himself.

  Dhamon whirled and headed toward his own sacks, noting Rikali was continuing to stuff gems into one, her arms practically a blur, her tunic plastered against her back with sweat. He scrabbled over the rocks and spires and was almost at her side when two steel-tipped quarrels shot through the air, one whizzing by his shoulder, slicing through his sleeve, the other lodging itself in his right thigh, finding its way to the scale affixed there.

  He shouted from surprise, falling back and clutching at his leg.

  "Remove the scale, and you'll die," he heard the long-dead Dark Knight say. Then the Knight was gone and Dhamon was writhing on the mountainside in the Valley of Crystal. A wail escaped him, long and unnerving, one that brought a choked sob from the half-elf.

  She threw herself on him, wrapping her slender fingers around the quarrel and tugging gently. "Maldred!" she called, "By my breath, Mai, help me!" She continued to tug, mindless of the dozen dwarves who had loosed the last of their quarrels and were now charging down the mountain toward her and Dhamon. "Maldred!"

  Dhamon gasped for air. All he could feel was intense heat and excruciating pain covering every inch of his body, turning him into a human furnace. "Damn this scale!"

  Within moments the dwarves were on the pair, gleaming axes raised, intent on slaying the two trespassers. Rikali tried to shield Dhamon. "I said we were gonna die, lover," she muttered, as the first axe came down…

  And clanged loudly against Dhamon's upraised sword. Despite the pain, he'd managed to scramble away from her and rise to his feet. "I'm not going to die today," he told the half-elf as he pushed her away. He whipped the blade about and shoved the tip through a dwarf's wrist. Maldred raced to his side, and the big man gave no warning to the dwarves this time. He waded into their midst and began swinging. "Join us, Riki!" he shouted. "Any time, please!"

  The half-elf picked herself up and drew her wavy-edged dagger, hurling it deep into the throat of a dwarf coming her way, one who wrongly had decided that fighting her was an easier proposition than taking on Maldred or Dhamon.
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br />   All of the dwarves were heavily armored despite the summer heat. The half-elf tugged free her blade and moved on to another one. She had to look for openings in their defenses, jabbing her blade at the joints in the thick plates.

  Three lay dead at Maldred's and Dhamon's feet before one managed to land a blow against the big man. The tallest of the dwarves cut deep into Maldred's arm, bringing a groan from the big man. The great sword clanged to the ground, as Maldred could no longer hold it with both hands. His wounded arm hung limp at his side.

  Two dwarves darted in and raised their axes, thinking the large human an easy mark now. However, Maldred's good arm shot forward, his massive fingers closing on the haft of a battleaxe and ripping it free from the dwarf's grip. Without pausing, he pulled the axe back and brought the weapon down on the other dwarf, cutting through his helmet and lodging in his skull. He tugged the axe free as the dwarf fell and swung it against its previous owner, dropping him.

  Dhamon dispatched one dwarf by shoving his blade through a gap in the armor beneath the dwarf's arm. Releasing his sword, which he couldn't easily tug free, he scooped up the dead dwarf's axe and swung it around hard, chopping into the neck of another dwarf and sending an arc of blood flying. His immediate opponents dead, he worked quickly to retrieve the broadsword and buried the axe in the chest of a corpse as more dwarves moved in.

  Although the odds were turning against them, the dwarves who remained showed no signs of retreating, save the one who found his beard on fire-courtesy of Fetch, who had just arrived on the scene. The kobold grinned maliciously and shouted to Rikali that his fire spell was indeed a great boon. The half-elf ignored him and threw her efforts into parrying the attack of a particularly thickset dwarf who had a scattering of medals affixed to his armor.

  Maldred felled one dwarf and was preparing to strike another as the ground started shaking beneath their feet. It was a gentle tremor at first, but it quickly gained energy, and within a heartbeat even the nimble Rikali was struggling to stay on her feet.

  Dhamon slammed his blade into the thigh of one of his opponents, then felt the haft of the weapon start to slip from his sweaty fingers. He put all his effort into keeping the blade, rugging it free and sheathing it just as he felt his feet lose purchase against the jarring ground. An instant later his legs were pitched out from under him, and he was rolling down the mountainside, unable to cushion himself from the spires he was thrown against along the way. Fetch dropped to the ground and wrapped one of his spindly arms around a rock that didn't seem to be going anywhere, the other arm snaked out to latch onto one of his bags of crystals. The dwarves and Maldred fared worst, not able to keep their balance and joining Dhamon on a pell-mell descent toward the bottom of the valley.

  "Dhamon!" Rikali screamed. She half-slid after him, doing her best to avoid the rocks careening down the mountainside, and crying out when sharp ones seemingly jumped up from nowhere to slam against her arms and legs.

  The mountainside thundered. Cracks appeared along the rocky slopes-small at first, like spider veins beneath pale skin, then widening until they resembled the jagged maws of monsters. Two of the dwarves screamed as they were swallowed by one of the growing fractures.

  Rikali felt the ground give way beneath her feet as she slipped into one of the widening chasms. Her slender hands thrashed about until her fingers found a spiny tooth of rock. She held on tight as her body was hurled against the rockface, the breath rushing from her lungs. She coughed and blinked furiously as a cloud of dust settled in the chasm, threatening to smother her, then she gasped in terror as the ground began to seal itself. She instinctively propelled herself up the trembling rockface, finding nooks to slip into that an ordinary man would overlook. She hauled herself over the lip and rolled away just as the fissure rumbled one last time and closed.

  "Dhamon!" she hollered, though she couldn't hear her own voice. All she heard was the echo of the quake, so loud it was painful to her keen ears. Again she scrambled down the mountainside, kicking up gravel and chunks of crystal. Her heart leapt when she spotted Dhamon's body wedged between a pair of granite columns. Mal-dred was hanging onto one of the columns with his good arm, his eyes shut in the face of flying rocks.

  The other dwarves who had tumbled down the mountainside were nowhere to be seen. Only one helmet was comically perched atop a gypsum spire. Fetch was high above Rikali, still clinging to his half-buried rock with one hand, the other somehow still holding fast to a sack of gemstones. Rikali had dashed to the columns and was holding on tight, suffering the fist-sized stones that battered her and riding out the quake until it mercifully stopped.

  She sagged next to Dhamon, gasping for clean air. "Lover?" She barely heard the word, perhaps only imagined it. Tears rolled down her face as she felt for him and her hands came away smeared with blood. "Lover? Please, oh please." Sobbing, she put her head to his chest and cupped a hand across his mouth, hoping to find some trace of breath. "He's alive!" she called a heartbeat later to Maldred, who slowly pushed himself off the pillar and dropped to his knees. The big man was mangled, his one arm hung limp, his sleeve covered with blood. But just how badly he was injured didn't sink in, as her concern for Dhamon took precedence. "Help me, Mai! Dhamon's hurt bad."

  Rikali was struggling with the quarrel again, which had broken off and was protruding only a few inches above the scale in Dhamon's thigh. Her clawlike nails were broken, and her fingers were bleeding. "I can't pull it out, Mai!"

  He pushed her hands away, and with his good hand ripped Dhamon's pants to fully expose the scale. Then he grunted, and with considerable effort he pulled the broken quarrel free.

  "What do we do, Mai? I'm afraid he's dyin'." Her hands fluttered over his face and chest. "Help him. I love him, Mai. I really love this one. Don't let him die."

  "He's not dying, Riki." Maldred shook his head, fighting a wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him and send him rolling to the valley floor. The side of his shirt was growing darkly crimson. He'd lost quite a bit of blood, and his wounded arm was so numb he couldn't move it. "Indeed, he doesn't look like he's hurt bad at all. Just unconscious." He pointed to a gash on Dhamon's forehead. "Hit a rock, knocked himself out. He'll be fine. Me, on the other hand…"

  "You've got magic. I've seen you mend things. You can heal yourself, I know you can. Make sure Dhamon's all right. Please."

  "Oh, I can mend things, Riki. But nothing living." His hand touched the scale, his thumb centering on the small wound. "I'd wager the bolt was enchanted," he said, "else it wouldn't have pierced this. Good thing more of us didn't get skewered."

  "I don't care what the damn thing was," Rikali cursed. "Enchanted. Lucky shot. Let's get out of here. Please. Let's leave and everythin' will be all right. Won't it?"

  "I care about him, too, Riki," Maldred said, his voice too soft for her to hear. He cast a glance up the mountainside to make sure Fetch was still there and that no more dwarves had arrived. Then he looked down at Dhamon, noticed blood gushing out of the hole in the scale. "All right. Maybe I can mend this. But maybe I should just rip the damn scale off."

  "No! You do that and he will surely die. I'll help you carry him."

  "Wait." The big man concentrated on the hole in the scale, started humming and directing his magical energy. Several minutes later Maldred sagged against the rocky column, and where the hole once was could be seen a flat black circle near the center of the otherwise glossy scale. The ground had flowered red around Maldred's limp arm. "I sealed it, and he's not bleeding anymore."

  "Damn the dwarves," she said, bending over Dhamon and running her fingers across his damp forehead. "And damn the dragons. A dragon did this to him, you know." She touched his scale.

  "I guess so." Maldred's voice had lost its sonorous power. He felt dizzy and terribly weak. "I don't know how or why, but the red overlord did it."

  Rikali cast a glance at Maldred. "By my breath, you're more than just hurt. I'm sorry. I'm so selfish. All the blood you've lost, Mai…
"

  Ignoring her, he pushed himself to his feet, then bent to shoulder Dhamon with his good arm. Another wave of dizziness struck, threatening to pitch him to the ground.

  "You need to rest, Mai," she protested. "You shouldn't be movin'. I can carry Dhamon. I can! All of us need…"

  "We need to get out of here," he gasped. "Just like you said. There'll be more dwarves soon, wondering what the quake did to their blessed valley. Time to heal later, Riki- provided we can get out of here alive."

  The ground trembled again. Maldred had braced himself, but the half-elf wasn't as quick to react. She tumbled to the ground and managed to catch herself on a spire. The ground shook a moment more, then quieted.

  You coming? Maldred mouthed, as the half-elf picked herself up. He turned and started up the mountainside again.

  They recovered two bulging bags of gemstones on their way up, Rikali carrying them when Maldred insisted he could handle Dhamon by himself. Even so, he stumbled a half a dozen times as they continued on. The mountain rumbled twice more as they climbed-aftershocks of the first quake or precursors to another. Fear made them drive themselves faster.

  "It's still here," Rikali said when she spotted the wagon. "Pigs, but I figured the horses would be long gone-takin' all of our gems with them." A moment later she saw why the horses hadn't bolted. A boulder had tumbled down, blocking the horses' path. There had been nowhere for them to flee.