by Damon Alan
“I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life,” Nelson yelled back.
Three minutes later the patrol boat was back underway, and the now abandoned runabout sat bobbing on the water behind them. Nelson watched it from the deck, grateful for the little boat even though it would now be lost.
Almost as if to prove his point, the water near the runabout broke and the serpent rolled out and over the small craft. Splintered wood flew through the air, then it was dragged under.
A British officer standing next to him clapped his shoulder. “Lucky lads, spotted just in time.”
“You guys bombed that thing into next week, sir,” Nelson said. “I can’t imagine how it’s still alive.”
“Oh,” the sailor replied. “We’ve only ever killed one. Most of the time we just manage to stun them and buy some time.”
“How do you know you killed one?”
“Well, the head, you see, it’s sitting on the Parliament Square, next to Robert Peel. A spectacle to let the British people know it can be done. We have a dragon head sitting near Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square.”
“They can be killed?” Nelson asked.
“Yes, sergeant. It can be done.”
He looked at his men, his fellow Americans, who stood from their seats and walked up to Nelson and the British officer.
“Then we’re here to help,” Billy said, extending his hand to the Brit.
Dammit, Nelson was going to say that.
Chapter 33 - Down Under
Harry didn’t really like what he was seeing. A giant gate, ripped from its hinges and leaning against a stone frame. The door was two feet thick, and despite the age of the structure, the wood, whatever it was, looked like it was cut yesterday. Wind whistled out of the darkness; a warmth gusted across Harry’s face. It smelled of stone, dampness, and… well… death.
Two large dwarven warrior statues, carved from the stone of the mountain, stood eternal watch next to the gate. Not that they’d done a good job.
Cylethe sent her drakon away, to the winter grounds. Grandmother would take care of him, she told Harry.
He was sad to see the beast go. It felt like they were being disarmed.
“Whit removes a door lik' that fae tis hinges?” Lars asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Cylethe said, urging the team and the horses forward.
“'An' yi'll waant tae gang in thare then?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air, then looking incredulously at Harry.
“Remember the chap in the magic window, Lars?” Harry asked. “He makes anything we find in there look like a kitten. That fellow wants to abduct Miller and kill the rest of us. This is our one opportunity at survival.”
Miller walked next to Harry as they passed under the base of the torn off door. “Lars is right. This is something I must do, but not you. Not them, Lieutenant. Hagirr isn’t after you.”
Dynamus let Harry know it didn’t believe a word of that. Hagirr was a dire threat to every person in existence. Particularly humanity.
Miller shook his head and then tended to one of the horses, helping guide it along the rubble on the floor of the massive tunnel they were walking into. The young man was feeling guilty, but there wasn’t anything for that. Other than to show him that this particular squad of the 5th Infantry Division, 25th Infantry Brigade, 4th Battalion didn’t leave men to fend on their own.
“Private Miller, last I checked, I was your Lieutenant. You are a private, you work for me. I would be more likely to fold the underwear of the Queen of Denmark than let you face this terrible place alone.”
“Alright, we have twelve of us, counting our esteemed friend,” Harry said, gesturing toward Cylethe. “We will have six of us with crossbows in hand at any one time, ready to shoot. The other six will be tending the duties of the horses, or the issues of our expedition such as food or water. Any chat from this point on will be whispered unless we know our surroundings are secure. I’m certain you all will do what is proper to keep the rest of us and yourselves safe.”
“Release the horses,” Harry ordered. “Carry what we need the most. Hopefully the faithful beasts will survive, but they can’t go where we’re going.”
A few minutes later the horses were fleeing toward the open air as the squad’s goods lay about in chaos.
Harry stuffed the most important things in his pack. Food, warmth, ammo, and a way to carry water. “Pick it up, we need to move.”
Cylethe, clearly annoyed with the delay, walked past him. “Let’s go.”
They descended nearly two miles, by Harry’s reckoning, straight into the mountain. Sloping halls, stairwells, and at one point a creaky wooden and iron elevator. Once below, and at the edge of the hold, they came to another gate much like the first. But this one was still on its hinges. Towers rose floor to ceiling on each side, with murder holes looking down over Harry’s men. The good news was that they were all quiet.
The gate was closed, but someone, or something, had chiseled a small passage under it. A man had to crawl through, like being born again, to the other side.
“This is why you sent your drakon to Grandmother?” Harry asked.
“It is. I’ve sheltered in this hall before, but never gone farther.” She gestured toward the hole under the door. “Goblins. To some of them that is a roomy passage. To others, not so much.”
“They get fat?” Miller asked.
“Sometimes. Or just big.”
“I’ll go first,” Miller said.
“Step off,” Harry demanded. “We will rotate who goes first in such situations, by rank. From the top. I go first.”
“No.” Cylethe looked angry and shook her head.
“You said you would follow. Do so.”
Harry slipped off his pack. His hands held only his rifle as he passed through, although Dynamus was still on his back. He’d tied a rope to the pack to drag it through after him. He sensed fear from the sword, but whether that was for Harry or because it didn’t want to be lost in some hole in the ground for another ten thousand years, Harry couldn’t say.
He stood up on the other side in a darkness that dripped into his eyes and down into his very being. A staleness filled the air, and in the distance something clinked. Water dripping on metal? A creature? In blackness this complete, he had no way of knowing.
Cylethe came next, she immediately took up position behind Harry.
“Sangilanti nal Ingustik,” she whispered.
A bluish white light appeared about fifty yards ahead, and maybe five yards off the floor. Bright, it illuminated everything between them and the light, plus another fifty yards beyond.
Machinery filled the hall floor, the walls of which were worked stone. Pillars rose along the sides, and doors led off into chambers unknown. The machinery was mainly siege weapons of such apparent age that some of the iron was beginning to break. Sections of machines had fallen to the floor.
After what seemed like an eternity the squad was once again standing together.
“Is Miller safe here?” Garrett asked.
Cylethe shook her head. “No. This region will be where Hagirr looks hardest. Miller’s presence will fade to him as we go deeper underground, and he will know why. He will send hunters after us, and they will know to come underground. Spectral hounds will track us long after our scent is gone to regular dogs.”
“Cheery,” Jenkins added.
Harry didn’t need squad morale to drop. He was going to talk to Cylethe about openly sharing the truth. She needed to filter it through him first. “Then if safety lay deeper, let’s get going.”
He didn’t want to know what a spectral hound was, although he probably should. He’d ask later, in camp.
They moved deeper into the dwarven hold, the main hall past the gates was immense. They were surrounded by pillars keeping a ceiling that invisible above in place, and that disappeared into the darkness on each side.
“We could get lost here,” Burke whispered.
> “I suppose we could,” Miller replied. “But the center path is clearly marked. So our light would have to go out for that to happen.”
“You know what I mean. This place is bigger than anything I’ve been in before. I bet this one chamber is larger than Buckingham Palace.”
“Yes. It probably is. We’ll be fine, we have Cylethe.”
Miller seemed to be growing in confidence now that they were in the hold. Maybe the thought of possibly surviving this ordeal was seeping into his brain.
They walked along, probably half a mile, over carved flooring that had just enough relief to give footing to their boots. The dwarves considered everything in their building. Eventually they came to a large conical structure with stairs up. The stairs aligned perfectly with the path they’d come down.
“The public throne,” Cylethe whispered. “Usually trapped in some fashion. We should go around, look for the back doors out of this place.”
“Semchikook show you!” a voice called from above. “Semchikook know back door!”
Six crossbowmen immediately stood ready, and the rest of his men scrambled to do the same.
“Semchikook not dangerous, just hungry,” the voice called out again. “But not for you.” A figure appeared at the edge of their light, up on the public throne stairs. It walked toward them.
A creature with yellowish skin, long lanky limbs, and a bulbous belly under a dirty white robe stopped ten yards away. With a face not even a mother could love, the thing stood no more than four feet high. “Semchikook not fight. Semchikook goblin of peace.”
“Or a thief,” Cylethe said.
Harry was amazed he could understand it.
“No, you mistaken dek. Semchikook priest of Semesku. Aspect of fire.”
“And still maybe a thief,” she repeated. “Prove you’re a priest.”
“Detoobisnar,” Semchikook said, and fire appeared above his outstretched palm. He sat it on the floor, and it crackled merrily like a campfire. A campfire with no wood.
“Semchikook wish to travel with dek female.” The goblin stepped closer. “And with creatures he not see before.”
“Well, you are a priest,” Cylethe said. “And still maybe a thief. Let me talk to my friend.”
Cylethe took Harry to the back of the squad while the men pointed their bows at Semchikook in case he got any ideas.
“He seems harmless enough,” Harry said. Dynamus sent a wave of approving emotion into Harry’s awareness. “Dynamus likes him. This sword knows things.”
A different sense of warmth flooded into Harry. The sword liked to be appreciated.
“That is a good sign, but we’ll have to watch him if we let him come along. Goblins are notoriously deceptive.”
“Fair enough. But that fire ability seems useful enough. Especially in a place like this where fuel might be scarce.”
“I’ll need to determine his rank and power within his faith. A strong Semesku priest is a force to be reckoned with. But he summoned a fire, not an elemental, so I’m guessing he’s pretty much an acolyte.”
“Or discreet,” Harry replied. “He’s not you.”
She grinned. “Maybe.”
“We let him guide us then?” he asked.
“We can, but we keep a good eye on him until he proves himself. We’ll also need to know if he can heal.”
“You mean bandage? Use a poultice?” Harry asked.
“No. Magical healing. It’s very rare, and a sign that a deity favors that priest greatly. If that’s the case, then it will increase my estimation of him.”
Harry turned back toward the goblin. “Semchikook, do you have access to magical healing?”
“Oh yes, creature I do not recognize. I do.”
Cylethe cut her finger with a knife and walked forward. “Prove it. If you’re lying, you die here.”
“Scoonibo dal poosti,” the little guy chanted, reaching out to touch Cylethe’s outstretched hand. The wound closed immediately, as if it never existed. “No die today,” the goblin said, giggling.
“We bring him,” Cylethe said, turning around. Her eyes widened as she seemed to realize she was trying to take charge. “With your approval, Harry, of course. But I recommend it now.”
“Then it’s done,” Harry agreed. He looked at Semchikook. “You take the lead. We will follow. Do not betray us, it will not go well.”
“Semchikook earn your trust! Semchikook good.”
Soon they were standing by a gate much like the one they’d entered the dwarven hold through, but considerably smaller.
“Togrug nog sempitook,” Semchikook said to Harry. “Scal nogro dwarvi noost.”
“What?”
“His spell that allowed you to understand him has expired. He says we need to open this gate to get to the underways.”
“Great, another language barrier.” Harry sighed. It didn’t matter. Semchikook was too valuable to let go if his intentions were honorable. “Then let’s get it open and be on our way.”
Shortly after, with the gate open, they took their first steps into the uncertain pathways that lay ahead. Miller might be safe for the moment, but they had to keep moving. And they had to stick together. If they could find more allies, like the goblin priest appeared to be, then they’d stand a chance.
“You worried, Harry?” Cylethe asked.
He looked at his men, at Cylethe, at the goblin staring at him with bulbous eyes.
“We live, or we die. At this point, living is the outcome that matters.”
Lars coughed. “Ah wale bide, ye best dae th' identical, lieutenant.”
Harry laughed. “That is the plan we’re going with Lars. We all want to live.” He turned toward the underway to steel his courage.
They all looked into the inky blackness ahead of them, pausing a moment to push down the natural fear that men have of such places. A new phase was beginning, and instead of leaving this world Harry was delving deeper into it. Time would tell if his choice saved lives, helped anyone, or ever got his men home again. But he would try. And that effort started with the next footstep deeper into the darkness.
“Let’s begin,” he said to the men.
Cylethe walked beside him, and without a word, the men filed in behind.
Chapter 34 – Insolent
Elianna glared at the servant girl entering the room with her wine. The idiot was taking too long to do her assigned task.
“Tell me, child, are you aware what happens when I or Hagirr find disappointment with a servant?”
The servant lowered her eyes, but not before Elianna recognized fear. “I am, lady. I am sorry, someone failed to refill the decanter on this floor.”
“Oh, really? This wasn’t your fault?”
“I should have noticed and reminded them, lady.”
Elianna stood and walked to face the child. She towered a full head over the servant girl. “I asked you a question. Was this your fault? Did you fail in your task through your own actions?”
“No, m’lady.”
Turning to the guards that stood in the doorway, Elianna smiled. Sweetly she said, “Bring me the palace vintner. You have five minutes.”
The guards raced out of the room. They were there for show only, only one person in the palace was any real threat to her. And, fortunately, he loved her.
He walked into the room as she thought about his love.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“What’s your name, child?” Elianna asked.
“Niza, lady.”
She looked at her beloved. “Niza had to go to a different floor to get wine. We do have a vintner who is supposed to prevent such a delay, do we not?”
“We do,” he replied. “Just kill her if you must kill someone, the vintner has useful skills.”
“Those skills aren’t keeping the decanters full.”
He waved his hands in surrender. “Do as you wish; I have no doubt you will anyway.” He looked at Niza. “It’s your lucky day. Leave us.”
; “No, she stays. She needs to see this.”
The guards raced back into the room as Hagirr started to reply, then tossed an older dwarf onto the floor. He stood up and dusted off his vest, looking at Elianna and Hagirr. He bowed deeply. “Lord. Lady.”
“Vintner,” Elianna began. “What is your job here?”
“To ensure the palace has wine, lady.”
“Then why is my decanter on this floor empty?”
“I wasn’t aware it was, lady. I filled it two hours ago.”
“Ingustin de mogussne vir,” Elianna chanted, as a look of fear filled the dwarf’s eyes.
He dropped to his knees, crying out in pain as his skin blackened and the entirety of his eyes turned blood red.
“You will suffer agony for three days. If there is a time during those three days I don’t have wine at my beck and call, anywhere in the palace, you will die. If you survive the three days, I will release you.”
Hagirr laughed even as the dwarf struggled to raise himself from the carpet. “You’re like a cat.”
Elianna smiled and ignored him otherwise. “I suggest you find a way to make sure you do not fail. Your death will be spectacular.” She gestured toward the door. “Crawl away.”
The dwarf did as told. He crawled out the door, stoically trying not to cry out. The result sounded like a restrained grunt.
“Go tell others what you have seen,” Elianna ordered Niza.
The girl fled. Her fear indicated she was very aware that the dwarf’s suffering could easily have been hers.
Hagirr shrugged, then spoke to Elianna, still facing the door the young girl had departed through. “You will be returning to Earth. Shall I release the dwarf in three days or do you intend to kill him anyway?”
Leaving so soon wasn’t Elianna’s plan. “Dearest, I will return to Earth in a week with your approval. Ernst and Herta need more time to learn the delights of power and youth.”
“I grow tired of your projects. We should simply crush this Germany and sweep their people into the gate.”
“My plan is better,” she said, “but if you feel that strongly about it.”