The Heir of Kayolin

by Douglas Niles

  He found a bag of holding on a nearby shelf and carried it back to the chest. With one trembling hand, he scooped out diamonds, rubies, platinum coins, emeralds, and all the other trinkets they had collected. The treasures tumbled into the sack, ten or twenty pounds worth of them. But because of the enchantment on the bag of holding, the little sack weighed only a few ounces and took up only the space of a small belt purse.

  “Where are we going to go?” he asked Sadie.

  So intent was her concentration—and her deafness—that he had to repeat the question three times, each more loudly than the last, before she answered.

  “The same place as I was going to send that last dwarf,” she finally replied. “Kayolin. I don’t want to take the time to work out a new destination.” She gestured to the empty strongbox. “And now, at least, we’ll have enough wealth to be comfortable.”

  “Hurry!” he pressed.

  “Well, if you wouldn’t keep chattering …” she replied ominously.

  Finally she jotted down the last symbol and capped the ink bottle. “Do you have everything?” she demanded. “I’m ready to cast the spell.”

  “Yes, right here,” he said, holding up the bag. “This should be all we need.”

  She nodded curtly and turned toward the lone blank spot on the shelf-lined walls. Reading carefully, she chanted the words to the powerful spell. Peat watched anxiously, almost fearing to breathe, as the enchantment slowly took form.

  First the blue circle began to glow on the wall. Gradually, the hole in the middle of the circle—the dark wormhole that was the actual pathway of the spell—took shape. With each word, more of the scroll on the desk before her burned away until there remained nothing but ashes.

  Finally Sadie finished, sighing with exhaustion, but quickly pushing back her stool and standing up. The blue circle glowed firmly, the dark tunnel of the magical passage beckoning to them, promising escape, freedom, riches—and safety.

  Peat finally began to relax. He wondered about Kayolin. One thing he knew was that it lay hundreds of miles away from their shop, far to the north. It seemed highly unlikely that the king of Thorbardin, or their wizardly Master, would be able to track them down there. And they would be fabulously wealthy; they would have every comfort that their nearly bottomless hoard of treasure would be able to purchase.

  Sadie looked at her husband and started to speak. “Time to—”

  She halted with an audible gasp. Peat blinked, perceiving that she was looking at something beyond him, just over his shoulder.

  In a panic, the elderly Theiwar turned around, eyes bulging as he spotted a black-robed figure that had silently, suddenly, come through the door into the back room of the two Guilders’ shop.

  In that same instant, Peat recognized their master.

  It was the wizard Willim the Black, standing there calmly, his scarred, eyeless face expressionless as he gestured toward the blue circle on the wall. Finally, a small smile parted his beard and creased his ghastly lips.

  “Going somewhere?” asked the most powerful magic-user in all Thorbardin.

  “I wanna go Pax Tharkas!” Slooshy whined as soon as the three gully dwarves made their way through the palace wall and back into the tangled, debris-filled cover of the plaza. “No big mess there alla time!” She had no firsthand experience with the city, but she imagined it from what Berta had said to her.

  “Yep, Pax Tharkas nice place!” Berta retorted. “Not like stoopie burnrock Thorbardin, alla time hot and hungry!”

  “Girls be quiet!” snapped Gus. “Highbulp gotta think!”

  Gus reflected. Berta and Slooshy had a point. Pax Tharkas was a rather nice place, especially compared to the terrible mess that Thorbardin seemed to be in. It was reasonably safe and very quiet. Sure, it was small and didn’t have a lake. But what was so great about the lake, anyway?

  Then there was the other thing, he abruptly remembered, as he almost stumbled because of the heavy red rock he was carrying. That rock matched the blue and green rocks in Pax Tharkas. Gus could take the red one there and make the king pretty happy. A happy king meant, at the very least, some good food for Gus. Suddenly he wanted to go back there very much.

  And just as suddenly, he knew how to do that!

  “Come on!” he said. “Girls follow highbulp, plenty fast!”

  “Hey! You no highbulp!” Berta reminded him.

  “Yeah! No boss me neither!” Slooshy declared.

  “Stay, then, bluphsplunging wenches!” he shouted, startling them both. “Gus go Pax Tharkas by himself!”

  Carrying the Redstone, he started running from the plaza, back toward the street where they had arrived in Norbardin.

  “Hey! Wait for me!” Berta called.

  “You no go so fast!” Slooshy objected. Two sets of feet pounded behind him, and he felt surprisingly happy that they were coming along with him. Sure, they could be disobedient and argumentative pests, but all in all, he was glad to have their company.

  Finding the right street was not easy in the midst of all the chaos and destruction that had marred so much of the city, but he finally picked it out and started down the way, leaving the dragon-wracked plaza behind. After running for two minutes, he guessed he was getting close and slowed down. He paused, thinking and looking around, and he finally recognized the shop where he and Berta had arrived there via the magic blue hole in the wall. It looked different because the front door was standing wide open.

  He darted through the open doorway with the two females in close pursuit. He strode through the shop, barely noticing the wreckage of tables and shelves. The back door was closed, but it opened when he turned the latch.

  Immediately he saw what he was searching for: the blue magic door, swirling on the wall. The same two old Theiwar were there also, but fortunately their backs were turned away from him; he well remembered the old crone’s skillful aim when she was shooting her magic missiles at him. Then he froze to notice there was a third person in the room—the eyeless wizard!

  Panic nearly choked Gus, and he wanted to run away. But then he saw that the frightening figure was glaring at the elderly Theiwar, and the two of them looked so terrified at the wizard’s presence that they didn’t even notice the gully dwarves creeping into their back room. The opportunity was there, and Gus wasted no time.

  “This way!” he whispered as best he could, leading his girlfriends in a sudden forward rush.

  But the old Theiwar crone must have heard him; her eyes turned toward him, and she opened her mouth to scream, which was when the wizard slapped her before the scream could come out. And the wizard didn’t even turn around or glance over his shoulder.

  Gus reacted instinctively, breaking into a sprint. He dived through the blue door as her scream echoed after him. Gus tumbled onto a hard stone surface and looked up to see, with relief, that Berta and Slooshy had followed him through, sprawling beside him on the other side of the magic door.

  Even as he watched, the blue circle shimmered and faded and disappeared.

  Kondike paced down a quiet street in Garnet Thax. The dog had been roaming through the dwarf city for a long time, and though he’d never forgotten his mistress, nor his new master, he had not been able to locate any scent of them. He’d drawn significant attention from the city’s dwarves, most of whom had never seen a dog anywhere near his size, and thus, considered him a wild and dangerous animal. After a few unpleasant encounters, such as being hit by clubs and rocks and narrowly avoiding a hurled spear, the dog had learned to stick to the less inhabited byways of the vast, labyrinthine city.

  For the first few days of his wanderings, he had gone back to the house where Gretchan had taken him when they first arrived in the city. But there had been no sign of her there, and the crowded streets of that neighborhood had been too dangerous for the dog to find a safe hiding place. So he had wandered off and not gone back there for quite a few days.

  He was prowling the alley behind a flourishing food market. He’d had succ
ess stealing cheese and even some cuts of meat from several of the vendors, and his gnawing, empty belly had compelled him to go back there. But the food-sellers seemed to be watching for him, and he was met with a barrage of well-aimed stones, missiles that bruised his flesh and forced him to flee back into the shadows.

  He whimpered quietly and limped into a shadowy alcove where he had found some discarded burlap to serve as a slightly-softer-than-stone bed. He lapped up some stagnant water from a pool in the floor. His stomach growled, but there was nothing to be done about that at the moment.

  Instead, he lay down and went to sleep.

  Abruptly he started awake, sniffed, and raised his head. A deep growl emanated from his chest as he stood, ears upraised, looking around. He couldn’t see anyone and didn’t smell anything. But some unknown sense prickled his awareness. The alley was empty; there was nobody in the alcove with him. Yet he felt certain that someone was approaching.

  The dog’s attention was drawn to the nearby wall. He growled more loudly, staring, as the stone surface began to shimmer. In another second he saw a raggedy-dressed gully dwarf there, stepping right out of the shimmering place on the wall. The big dog barked, startling the gully dwarf, who yelped and leaped to the side. Then a second and a third gully dwarf materialized, tumbling through to sprawl onto the floor, startling the dog so much that he jumped backward, barking again.

  Kondike barked once more, but something in the little dwarf’s scent was vaguely familiar. He wagged his tail tentatively.

  The little dwarf, whose nose was bleeding from the impact of the fall, looked up and grinned.

  “Kondike?” he said cheerfully. “Is that you?”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  MURDER THWARTED, TRAP SPRUNG

  Brandon awakened with a start, instinctively reaching for his axe before he realized it was his mother who had nudged his shoulder and was urgently speaking to him.

  “I’m awake,” he said, sitting up in bed and shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. “What is it?”

  “Rona Darkwater is here, and she says she needs to speak to you right away!”

  “Rona Darkwater?” asked Brandon, quickly rising and donning a light tunic. “What does she want?”

  “Ask her yourself,” came the reply over her shoulder as Karine bustled back to the front room.

  Brandon followed after his mother quickly and nodded politely to the glamorous dwarf maid who was sitting in the lamp-lit chamber. He noted that Gretchan wasn’t there; she was probably still whispering her way through the city’s neighborhoods, reminding people that “the throne is in Thorbardin.”

  “Hi, Rona,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Only then did he notice that Rona’s face was drawn and taut, and she glanced nervously at the door as if half afraid they’d be interrupted. Karine brought her a mug of steaming tea, and the young female clutched it as though it were the nectar of life itself.

  “It—it’s your father,” she said abruptly. “I’ve just come from the palace. I overheard the king—the governor—order Lord Heelspur to have him executed! They plan to make it look like an accident, to claim he was trying to escape!”

  Karine gasped, and Brandon’s fists clenched involuntarily. “Do you know when he plans to do this?” he growled.

  She shook her head and blinked her tear-filled eyes. “No. But I’m afraid it will be very soon!”

  Brandon crossed to her and knelt at her side, taking her hands. “Thanks, Rona. You took a great risk coming here; it means a lot to me.”

  She smiled wanly and squeezed his fingers. “I had to do it,” she said. “You know, for old time’s sake. And because the whole League of Enforcers business, the way they are bullying all of Kayolin, it’s just wrong.”

  “Maybe it won’t be that way much longer,” Brandon said grimly. “Thanks to you, we have a chance to stop them. Damn Heelspur!”

  “I know,” Rona said with a shudder. “I’ve spent too much time with Baracan already. He scares me!”

  “I’m just grateful you were there—and that you came here,” Brandon said sincerely.

  With that, she kissed him on the cheek, pulled a hooded cloak over her head, and vanished through the front door, leaving the portal open just as Gretchan was coming in.

  “Who was that?” asked the priestess, watching the cloaked noblewoman hurry up the street.

  “An old friend—Rona Darkwater,” Brandon replied.

  “Oh, yes, she was at our meeting at the Mug. She had some good information about the Heelspurs and the League of Enforcers,” Gretchan said. She suddenly seemed to sense the somber mood in the room. “Well, what did she have to say?”

  “They’re even more ruthless than I thought,” Brandon replied curtly. He was already shucking his leather outer shirt over his shoulders and picking up his axe. “My mother will explain things; I have to go out for a while. There’s something I have to do.”

  “Wait!” Gretchan declared. She nodded at his weapon. “Is this about your father?” she asked shrewdly.

  “Yes!” he replied curtly.

  “All right. I know you have to go,” the cleric said, “but just talk to me for a minute first. All right?”

  In a rush, Brandon told her the news that Rona Darkwater had brought to him. “I have to go look for him, find him—try to stop this!” he said desperately.

  “I know,” the cleric said calmly. “You have to. But listen to me for just another few minutes. I think I can help you.”

  “So, Kondike,” Gus said, leaning contentedly against the wall and stretching his feet. He scratched the big dog’s head and sighed with satisfaction. Ever since the blue magic circle had disappeared from the wall, he’d felt relaxed and confident again. After all, he was back in his own domain, Pax Tharkas, where—whether Berta liked it or not—he was highbulp.

  Or was it Pax Tharkas? He looked around and scratched his round-topped head, surprised he had never seen that part of the fortress before. Pax Tharkas was a big place, but it wasn’t that big. In fact, he was looking at a tangled maze of streets and alleys, more like a city in Thorbardin than the interior of the fortress of Pax Tharkas. He had never seen anything remotely like that neighborhood in all his time in Berta’s home.

  Berta and Slooshy had gone off to explore, while he sat there with the dog who, after all, had been the first creature he had met after his initial escape from Thorbardin.

  “Hey,” he said to Kondike, suddenly remembering something. “You went away from Pax Tharkas! With Gretchan!” Indeed, the departure of his beloved priestess from Pax Tharkas had left a distinct void in the little Aghar’s life. Though, living in the sewers and dungeons as he and his fellow gully dwarves had done, he hadn’t seen a lot of her. But she had come down to visit him every now and then, and he had missed her after she left. “When you come back here to Pax Tharkas?” he asked, wishing the dog could do more than look at him and pant with that long pink tongue hanging out.

  “Psst! Hey, Gus! Look here!”

  It was Berta, jogging back into the little alcove with Slooshy following close behind. “Not now,” he barked. “Me talkin’ to Kondike!”

  “You come look!” she insisted. “Now!”

  Groaning at the heavy burden of responsibility, reflecting that the illustrious role of highbulp wasn’t all just foot rubs and free food, Gus pushed himself to his feet. “What now?” he demanded. “Me and Kondike just restin’ … nice.”

  “Come see!” she insisted again, and he plodded along behind, knowing she’d never stop pestering him until he did as she asked. Slooshy, too, was all agog, and took his hand to pull him forcefully along.

  They led him down a street, fortunately deserted, and around a corner, pointing triumphantly before them. Gus could only gape as he found himself standing on a balcony at the edge of a deep, wide shaft. He looked down and swayed dizzily, discerning only a vague, reddish glow very, very far below. He leaned back to peer upward and saw that the big space extended above t
hem as far as he could see.

  “Hey?” he asked. “Where in Pax Tharkas are we?”

  “Not Pax Tharkas at all!” Berta declared, triumphantly crossing her arms over her skinny chest. “We go somewhere new!”

  Gus could only gawk in awe, trying to absorb the astonishing idea. He had to admit it seemed like Berta was right. He looked from Berta to Slooshy to Kondike. All three stared blankly at him, and he pulled at his hair, wondering what to do.

  “We come through blue hole,” he argued. “Blue hole go Thorbardin, from Pax Tharkas. Blue hole go Pax Tharkas, from Thorbardin!”

  “New blue hole go somewhere new!” Berta insisted.

  It was the dog who spoke next, woofing curiously and tilting his head to the side as he looked at the frustrated gully dwarf. It was that soft bark that gave him the idea.

  “Hey!” he said. “Maybe you come this place with Gretchan! Where Gretchan? You take us her?”

  Kondike’s ears pricked up at the familiar name. He looked around as if he expected to see the cleric standing right behind Gus, though, of course, she wasn’t there. But the name had clearly triggered something deep inside Kondike, for with another woof, the dog took off at a trot, moving easily down the street of the new dwarf city. The three gully dwarves, running as fast as their stubby legs could carry them, followed him, trying to keep up. Gus held the Redstone in both hands, his feet slapping against the stones as he jogged along. Somewhere up ahead, he was almost certain, he would find Gretchan.

  She would know the answers to his questions—questions that were piling up so heavily that his head was starting to hurt.

  Meanwhile Willim the Black faced the two terrified Theiwar, his once and disgraced spies.

  “Where did you get the scroll that allowed you to cast a dimension door?” Willim the Black said, casually pulling out a spare stool and sitting down very, very close to Sadie and Peat, peering at them with intimidation clear on his eyeless face.