The Prophecy
Page 40
***
“Well done, Sir Steve!” Rhenyon fanned the air in front of him, trying to ward off the nauseating aroma of burnt bug. “Ye got near twenty that time!”
Replenishing his jhorun for the fifth time, Steve wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.
“Stragglers?”
Breslin peered through the dense smoke at the retreating guur. “Five,” he reported.
“Can you see which way they went? Sooner or later one of these suckers are gonna lead us to the female’s lair.”
“They took the right tunnel up ahead. We have them on the run! Come, lads! We must not lose them!”
The dwarf and two humans raced to keep up with the fleeing survivors. Sprinting through various tunnels, Steve quickly lost track of how many lefts and rights they had taken. Was anyone as concerned as he was?
“Breslin!”
“Aye, lad!”
“Dude, tell me you’re not as lost as I am. Do you know where we’re at? I don’t want to have to worry about wandering around in these damn tunnels trying to find my way out!”
“I was born in here, lad,” Breslin wheezed out, running slightly behind him. “I cannot get lost in my own home.”
The tunnel they were following deposited them in a large cavern with several smaller openings dotted along the wall and ceiling. Guur holes? The retreating insects all disappeared into the same hole about four feet off the ground on the far wall. Running over to the tunnel to peer inside, Steve swore loudly.
“Cowardly sons of bitches! Think you’re safe in there?? Have a taste of this!”
Placing both arms directly in front of the tunnel opening, Steve sent a brutal blast of fire and energy into it, watching with satisfaction as the tunnel’s perimeter started to glow red. One order of guur flambé coming right up!
“Look out!!”
Rhenyon’s warning caused Steve to snap his head up. A reddish-orange light had appeared directly above him and grew brighter by the second.
“They have set a trap for ye, sir Steve! Get out of there!!”
With a bemused expression on his face, Steve watched as the exorbitant amount of jhorun he had just expelled rain down from the ceiling above, completely enveloping him in a shower of pure fire.
“Sir Steve! Can ye hear me? Get out of there!!”
“Lad! Drop and roll!”
The fire storm finally tapered off, leaving Steve bare to his waist with only his nohrstaf harness criss-crossing across his chest. His magically enhanced dwarven gauntlets remained unaffected as well.
“Why is it always my damn shirt? What’s the deal with that, anyway?”
Rhenyon ran up to him. Concern for his friend had him dropping formalities. “Steve, are ye alright? Are ye injured?”
“I’m fine. Lost my damn shirt, though.” He peered into the still smoking hole. “Think I got ‘em?”
Breslin nudged some debris that had fallen from the ceiling.
“I believe so, lad.”
“Where now?”
Rhenyon turned to Breslin. “Master dwarf? Ideas?”
“Aye, we must go deeper. The female guur will prefer to have her nest situated on at least three sides by solid rock. The better to defend it from intruders. A guur nest will have to be close to a source of water. In fact,” the dwarf paused, tapping his fingers on his axe, “I believe I have an idea where we might find her.”
“Where?”
“We are near the source of Duvvin river.”
“What river? I haven’t seen any river.” He glanced at the captain. “You?”
Rhenyon shook his head.
“It feeds the lake, lads. At the point where the river emerges above ground, there is a large cavern with several smaller caves scattered about. It would be a perfect place for a guur female to nest and hide. I have not actually laid eyes on that cavern in quite some time.”
“Lead the way, master dwarf. Sir Steve, if ye please, flanking position.”