Katie had expected to find the king lecturing his brother. She couldn’t have been more wrong. She was instead treated to the sight of a towering metal construct – it had to be at least fifteen feet tall – tossing aside golems like they were children’s toys. The construct stomped toward a dwarf who stood amongst even more golems.
“Stand down!” the construct thundered. Katie blinked. That was the king’s voice.
“It is his magic,” Amanda explained. The vampire’s clothing was more than a bit tattered, and Katie sincerely hoped Avraniel could at least wait until she was further away before saying something about it. After what she’d just seen Amanda do with all of that blood – blood that was still floating in the air around them – she was not keen on angering the ancient vampire.
“What do you mean?”
“Ironbinder isn’t merely a name. It’s a title. The kings of the Broken Mountains possess the ability to gather metal to themselves and then manipulate it as if it’s an extension of their bodies. It’s easiest to do with iron and iron-based alloys like steel, but it can be done with other metals.”
“Then the golem we saw while we were fighting over Cavernholme…”
“That was the king.” Amanda smiled. “And as you can see, his strength in this form is considerable.”
“Stay back, you bastard!” the other dwarf yelled as another one of the golems was squashed flat by a massive blow from the king.
“Bastard? Are you stupid? We’re brothers, and our parents were most certainly married when they had me.” The king knocked the last of the golems aside – Katie was stunned to realise that they were already repairing themselves – and then pieces of metal tumbled to the ground as the king abandoned his magic and leapt at his brother. The pair rolled across the ground in full armour, trading punches, head butts, and other, far less sporting, blows. It was, quite possibly, the least kingly thing Katie had ever seen. It reminded her of how some of the hatchlings of Sam’s kind would fight by flailing away at each other with their tentacles.
“Is this normal?” Katie asked as the king elbowed his brother in the head. The other dwarf’s helmet absorbed the worst of the blow, and the king grunted as his brother retaliated by punching him in his armoured gut. “It seems… weird.”
“It is perfectly normal,” Amanda said. “Pummelling each other is a time-honoured way for dwarf siblings to settle their differences. It may be treasonous to strike a king, but at the moment, they are facing each other as brothers, and brothers have been hitting each other since time began. So long as no one draws steel or tries to land a killing or crippling blow, no one will intervene.” She nodded. “Look at his golems.”
The golems had finished repairing themselves – which meant they were much more advanced than the ones she and the others had faced last time – but they were standing at attention. Not a single one of them had moved to interrupt the brawl between the king and his brother.
“Oh.” Katie’s eyes narrowed. “These golems are much better than the ones we had to fight.”
Not only were they sleeker and less box-like in appearance but they were also made of a different material, one that resembled steel but with a more silvery sheen to it. Given how hard the king had hit them, the fact that they’d only been damaged instead of destroyed outright spoke volumes about their durability. Spot must have been impressed as well. The dragon had landed nearby and was busy licking his lips and eyeing a nearby golem with a hungry expression.
Turning her attention back to the king and his brother, Katie dredged up her knowledge of the dwarf language. The dwarves had been polite enough to address her and the others in the common tongue spoken by Everton, the Eternal Empire, and many other mostly human nations. Given the expertise of dwarves in areas useful to necromancers like proper castle construction and siege weaponry development, Katie had become fluent in reading the dwarf language. However, her speaking skills were a bit rougher. Thankfully, she could still follow what the king and his brother were saying to each other despite them arguing entirely in the dwarf language.
“You dumb bastard!” the king roared. “What were you thinking?”
“I was trying to make some money – and didn’t you just call me stupid for calling you a bastard, you bastard?” The king’s brother retorted as he managed to land another elbow. Wait. His name was Daerin, wasn’t it? Daerin Steelhammer. “How else could I save our people?”
“How about by not betraying our allies? You know, the country that sent these people here to help us, the same people who have killed more goblins in less than two weeks than we’ve managed to in decades!”
“They’re the ones who destroyed my golems earlier,” Daerin shot back. “They work for the Council, and they hate dwarves! You can’t trust them!”
“They don’t hate dwarves, you idiot! They just hate you! You stole the Council’s funding, and your golems went on a rampage! They even destroyed a town. Besides, if they hated dwarves, why would they be helping us now? We cannot afford to drive off the only allies we have left!”
“You’re just jealous of my engineering skill!”
“Jealous of your engineering skill? Hah! The only thing I’m jealous of is your talent for delusion, you troublesome fool!”
After several more minutes of furious scuffling, the brawl finally ended when the king landed several particularly heavy blows that threatened to fold his brother in half despite his armour. The pair dusted themselves off, and the king hauled his brother onto his feet.
“My brother,” the king said, shoving the other dwarf in the general direction of Katie and the others. “The self-proclaimed Daerin Steelhammer although his real name is Daerin Ironbinder. Only the gods know why he decided to change the name our ancestors gave us.”
“I can call myself what I want – oof!” Daerin’s reply was cut off by an elbow to the gut. “Stop hitting me, you oaf!” Daerin took a moment to compose himself before glaring at them. “You’re the dwarf-hating bastard who destroyed my golems!”
“After they went on a rampage,” her master replied without skipping a beat. “And we don’t dislike dwarves so much as we dislike you for causing so much trouble. Honestly, self-replicating golems without better safety measures? What were you thinking? Were you trying to be as annoying as possible?” Bizarrely, the words seemed to make the dwarf happy because Daerin puffed his chest out in pride. “But what are you doing here? Your golems have clearly improved, but did you really think you could take this city back on your own? You’re an engineer, so you should be decent at math. They would have swarmed you long before you succeeded. Worse, what would you have done if they somehow managed to take control of your golems?”
“Bah! That never would have happened. Even killing me wouldn’t have changed that. All of my golems are designed to obey no one but me.”
Her master rolled his eyes and looked at Gerald. The bureaucrat summoned one of the golems they’d salvaged. After a bit of tinkering, they’d been able to make it completely loyal to them. Her master ordered the golem to slap Daerin upside the head.
“Hey!” Daerin cried. “That’s my golem! You can’t just take a dwarf’s property!”
“It ceased being your property when I had to bash it’s head open after it tried to cave in my skull.” Her master smiled thinly. “The point is that it now obeys our orders, so it’s clearly not impossible for your golems to be subverted, merely tricky.” Gerald put the golem away with his magic. “And don’t forget that you’re still wanted by the Council for your crimes. Stealing money isn’t usually the best way to make some although stealing from bandits might be the exception to the rule, and stealing from the Council was just stupid. You’re lucky they didn’t send the Supreme Cleric after you.”
Daerin visibly paled at the mention of the Supreme Cleric. Katie couldn’t blame him. The Supreme Cleric was famous the world over for being a flying, glowing harbinger of death. The mere mention of her name had, on more than one occasion, led some of Everton’s enemy
to either retreat or surrender.
“The only reason you’re not currently either dead or rotting in prison is because your brother is the king.” Her master matched the dwarf’s glare with one of his own. Katie was pleased to see that it was suitably menacing for a necromancer of his stature. Hopefully, her glare would be at least that menacing when she grew up. “You do realise there’s only one way out of your predicament, don’t you?”
The aforementioned king gave his brother a stout kick in the leg.
“Ouch!” Daerin hissed. “Stop hitting me!”
“I’ll stop hitting you when you stop being stupid!”
“Fine.” Daerin took a deep breath. He clenched one armoured fist and beat his chest with it. “I swear on the names of my ancestors and all dwarves past, present, and future, that I shall render aid until my debt is paid and afterward only act as a friend to Everton and its people. If I should break my vow, may my ancestors and the spirits of all dwarves past, present, and future cast me into the abyss.”
Katie stared, and the dwarves around them all snapped to attention. That was one of the most solemn vows a dwarf could make. No dwarf of good standing would ever break it, and someone who took as much pride in being a dwarf as Daerin would never even consider trying to weasel out of it.
“That’ll do,” her master said. He glanced at Amanda for confirmation, and the vampire nodded. “Now… why are you here? Like I said, I doubt it’s just to fight goblins. There’s no way you could have beaten them alone, and you don’t seem suicidal even if your definition of suicidal is clearly different from everyone else’s.”
Daerin looked as though he wanted to remain silent, but King Barin raised his fist again. “What do you know about something called the Hearthgate?” The king froze.
“Nothing. I can’t say I’ve heard of it in a dwarf context. I mean… there is an ancient relic called the Hearthgate on another continent, but I doubt that’s what you’re talking about – and that one was built by giants.”
“The Hearthgate is one of the greatest secrets of the dwarves, but I must speak of it if we are to reach it.” Daerin glanced at his brother again. He braced for another cuff over the shoulder, but the king’s eyes were sombre as he spoke.
“If this is truly about the Hearthgate, then it is serious. They must be told.” The king’s gaze pinned each of them in place. “But understand that not a word of this can leave your lips. This is a great secret, and we do not share it lightly.”
“Long ago,” Daerin began. “When Skygarde, the Sky City was built, two portals were made, each connected to the other to allow for the easy movement of troops and supplies. One was placed in Skygarde, and the other was placed in a secure location. In an emergency, such as the Sky City failing, it could be used for evacuations or reinforcements. The other portal was placed here… in Diamondgate.”
“I really need to ask you how you managed to build a portal with such long range, but the Sky City has been lost since the First War. The portal wouldn’t go anywhere.”
“The goblins have reactivated it.”
“Impossible!” the king growled. “We built that damn thing, and our ancestors spent decades trying to reactivate it to find out where the Sky City went. We’ve never been able to reactivate it. If we could, we’d have sent people through to find out what happened to Skygarde. Do you really expect me to believe that goblins – most of whom can barely point a spear in the right direction without being told how to do it – somehow managed to achieve what we could not?”
Daerin’s eyes gleamed. “I misspoke, brother. The goblins secured this city, but they weren’t the ones that reactivated it. It was the ones they serve.”
An almost fearful hush fell over the dwarves, and Katie thought back to the rumours she’d heard. Many believed that the goblins answered to eldritch entities, beings of incredible otherworldly power. Yet none had even seen them and lived, so the truth behind the rumours was still uncertain, even centuries after the goblins had first begun their attacks. However, some of the powers wielded by the goblin shamans had hinted at a connection to eldritch entities.
“You think those things are here? Then why haven’t they come forth to attack us? We’ve slaughtered thousands of goblins, and they have yet to make an appearance.” The king shook his head. “I have heard that such beings care little for the lives of their servants, but to ignore how many goblins we’ve killed? Madness.”
“I know they are here.” Daerin reached into his armour and produced a small charm. “This is an ancient relic crafted from the same materials that were used to make the Hearthgate. See how it glows? It is responding to the magic of the gate. It is active, and we cannot delay. We must find it as soon as we can.”
Her master studied the charm intently. It gave off a warm white glow. “Most eldritch entities do not care about their servants, Your Majesty. If they are here and they are willing to ignore the plight of the goblins, then that means whatever they’re doing with the Hearthgate is more important to them. They might even have chosen to use the goblins as a distraction, so they can finish whatever they’re doing.”
“Then we must reach the Hearthgate,” Barin said grimly. “But to reach it requires a king’s blood.” He nodded at her master. “Secure this area with your zombies. My elite will accompany us. The magic that protects the Hearthgate should have repelled even eldritch entities, and it will almost certainly do great damage to your zombies if they venture too close.”
“You can’t turn it off?” her master asked. “Because some of my zombies would definitely come in handy if we run into monsters from another dimension.” The king shook his head. “Well, I’ll have Gerald store some of the better ones just in case we need them later. Even if the magic protecting the Hearthgate does destroy them, they might be able to buy us some time in an emergency.” He grinned at Katie. “You know what they say, right?”
“Better to lose a zombie than your life,” Katie replied with a grin. It was one of the very first things her master had ever taught her. Zombies could be remade. A dead necromancer was, well, dead.
“Good. Now, we must go below the city. The Hearthgate was built in the heart of the mountain, a place of great magical power.” The king hefted his axe. “If these beings have indeed managed to overcome its protection, then they are formidable indeed, and it is no wonder this city fell. Goblins are one thing, but otherworldly foes are quite another.”
“Isn’t that ominous?” Her master sighed. “Let’s get going. I know better than anyone that leaving eldritch entities alone for too long never ends well, and I doubt these ones are going to be content with stealing all of our cake.” He ruffled Katie’s hair, and she scowled. Did he have to do that in front of everyone else? She was trying to look more menacing, and the hair ruffling did not help. “It really makes you appreciate Sam, doesn’t it?”
“Yep. I kind of wish he was here, though.” As eldritch beings went, Sam was immensely powerful. Only creatures like the things sleeping underneath the castle could truly overwhelm him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move around freely, and she’d learned to recognise the feel of eldritch energy and power he could use to anchor himself. This place didn’t have any.
The king led them back to the centre of the city and from there to the central barracks. Beneath the barracks was yet another hidden passageway, and Katie rolled her eyes. Did the dwarves have hidden passageways for everything? Evacuating the city would be a nightmare due to the sheer number of hidden passageways and chambers, not to mention how troublesome it was going to be to clear out all of the goblins that could be hidden in them. From what her master had said, it was highly likely that the goblins had already infested the city’s more isolated areas. It could take weeks to wipe them out completely.
Katie wasn’t sure how long they descended, their footsteps carrying them down into the earth toward the heart of the mountain. It was hard to tell since the passageway was wrought of basically featureless stone, and it had been crafted with impressi
ve but mind-numbing regularity. She was half tempted to use her shadows to create a slide of sorts, so they could all slide down. It would be quicker, and she was sure Spot and Chomp would enjoy it, but it was probably better to be careful. They still didn’t even know what these eldritch creatures would look like. Sam and his ilk were spheres of protoplasmic flesh that favoured tentacles, teeth, and claws. However, some eldritch entities looked more like insects while others reminded her of fish or even twisted humanoids. As they went further down, she noticed something odd. So far, the walls had all been clean, featureless white stone. But here, there was fungus on the walls.
“Master… is that fungus?” Katie was about to lean closer to the fungus before thinking better of it. Touching anything with eldritch origins without knowing more about it first was an awful idea. Her eyes widened. It wasn’t easy to see since the passageway was lit using the same devices that lit the city, but the fungus was definitely emitting a strange, difficult to describe light of a colour she couldn’t quite identify. “It’s glowing.”
Daerin hissed. “Those dwarf-hating bastards! Nothing should be able to grow down here! The magic that protects the Hearthgate should prevent it!”
Her master urged the others back and gently poked the fungus with his shovel. His eyes narrowed. “Stand back.” As the others moved further away, he muttered a word that made Katie’s hair stand on end and her ears ring. Spores erupted from the fungus, but they died in the air, reduced to a fine grey ash as the word he’d spoken echoed through the air.
“What was that?” the king asked, rubbing his ears. “What did you say?”
“A word of power – one that can be used to deal with certain types of eldritch beings.” Her master frowned. “I haven’t encountered this fungus before, but I’ve dealt with things like it in the past. It is definitely not from this world. Your brother speaks the truth.” He pursed his lips. “I have a… friend. He has encountered this sort of thing before. This fungus belongs to… I guess the closest translation is ‘cosmic fungi of the world without beginning or end’, a group of eldritch beings that wander from world to world for reasons only they know. My friend didn’t think there were any on our world.”
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