Tracy Hickman: Song of the Dragon

The Stoneheart , Drakis thought. Every Impress Warrior had been thoroughly instructed in it from before the battle began. It was a single, massive granite disk, polished by the dwarves to a glassy smoothness, though Drakis had wondered why dwarves would want to go to so much trouble to put a brilliant finish on something that would never be touched by light. It was nearly a hundred yards in diameter and perhaps twenty yards thick in the center. Most remarkable of all, the entire stone sat atop an enormous geyser whose channeled energies pushed upward with such force that the stone seemed to float atop it. It was the flow from this geyser that fed the torrents raging across the floor of the cavern.

“We may have found it, but how do we get to it?” ChuKang mused. “These gate symbols we’re laying down will make this the entry point for the entire army once they are engraved, but charging that island with an army isn’t going to get them any closer to the throne. Look-to the left-that small dwarven city on that side of the cavern. There’s a causeway that runs up from those buildings to that gate. .”

“The Thorgreld,” Drakis said aloud.

The Stoneheart was accessible only via a single bridge carved from the stone that extended from the doors to the Heart outward toward the Last Gate of Thorgreld. It was the final defense of the Last Dwarven Throne, for on the order of their king the entire Stoneheart could be rotated atop the geyser by the dwarves within, moving both bridge and entrance door away from the Last Gate and making it unreachable. The Tribune had told them a great deal about it as they prepared, for battle within the Stoneheart was the prize coveted by all the Houses of the Rhonas Imperium, but hearing it described did not convey to Drakis the enormity of the experience of seeing it himself.

“We’ve got to get to that causeway,” ChuKang said, his voice rumbling as he considered the problem.

“Were any of our warriors over there before?” Drakis asked.

Both ChuKang and KriChan turned toward him. “The Tribune would know. . but if they were that close to the causeway, wouldn’t they have pressed the attack?”

“Maybe they didn’t know it was over there,” Drakis replied. “They might have been fighting in the corridors as we have. . perhaps they didn’t know how close they were to the prize. We can only see it now because we’re over here.”

“If that’s true, then they might have abandoned some gate symbols there,” KriChan said quickly. “We could fold there and make for the throne ourselves!”

“Captain!”

ChuKang turned abruptly toward the sound. “Here!”

“They’re coming!” Jerakh said. “We can see them moving toward the rotunda.”

“How long?”

“Not long.”

“Braun!” ChuKang called.

The Proxi was still kneeling next to the gate symbol glowing faintly from the stone next to him. Braun moved his Standard over the symbol, and a spark arced upward and over the heads of the arrayed warriors until it landed nearly five hundred feet farther down the landing. There it burned briefly into the stones, carving out a duplicate of the gate symbol. “That’s ten, Captain!”

ChuKang reached down and picked up the Proxi with his massive hand, lifting him bodily from the ground and pulling him to stand next to him. “Do you see that city to the left?”

Braun squinted slightly. “Yes. . the one built into the face of the cavern.”

“They’re coming, Captain!” Jerakh called.

The sound of the slow march of dwarven boots became a growing thunder in their direction.

“That’s the way to the throne,” ChuKang said. “There’s a causeway next to it-a road that leads straight to the gate. Do you see it?”

Braun smiled. “Yes. . and so does the Tribune.”

Braun turned at once and knelt again next to the gate symbol in the floor. He planted the Standard, and its great crystal flared into brilliant light at once.

The fold opened.

Drakis shuddered. He could see nothing at all through the ink-black fold.

“Timuran Centurai!” ChuKang called out. “Fall back! Into the fold by the numbers! Octian Nine!”

The group leaped from their positions on the landing, dashing at once through the crackling oval into the darkness on the other side.

“Octian Eight!”

Warriors from the other side of the landing jumped up, scrambling toward the fold and vanishing into the blackness.

“Ethis! Megri!” Drakis called out.

The chimerian and the goblin both called out in ragged response, “Yes, Octis!”

“Each of you stand guard on opposite sides of the fold. TsuRag! GriChag!”

“Yes, Octis!”

“Keep your eyes on the dwarves coming up the hall! We’re leaving!”

ChuKang continued to call out the Octia . In quick succession each pulled back, running quickly through the black opening of the fold.

Drakis stared down the hall. The dwarves were running now, seeing that their enemy was trying to elude them. Their battle cries filled the hall, their blades flashing in the torchlight.

“Octian Two!” ChuKang shouted.

Jerakh and his warriors leaped up, dashed between the members of Drakis’ Octian and, without hesitation, jumped through the fold.

The dwarves shouted their rage in terrible chorus.

“That’s it!” ChuKang roared. “Fold out!”

Drakis turned toward the fold. Ethis and Megri had already jumped through. TsuRag and GriChag were following the captain, and KriChan as he watched. That only left. .

“Braun!” Drakis shouted.

The Proxi stood up. The Standard still emitted the magical Aether, holding the fold open, but Braun now held it casually in his hand.

“Let’s go!” Drakis barked.

Braun’s form was silhouetted against the bright hall. Beyond him, Drakis could clearly see the dwarven warriors less than a hundred feet away and getting closer with every thundering step.

Braun made no move.

“Braun!” Drakis shouted.

“It’s all right,” Braun replied, standing perfectly still. “You don’t see it, do you? The walls have all crumbled, and here-here in the darkness-the light comes at last!”

The dwarves cheered. Fifty more feet and their enemy’s blood would flow.

Braun smiled but made no move. “Do you see the picture? Do you hear the music?”

Nine notes. . Seven notes. .

“What did you say?” Drakis asked, his eyes going wide.

Twenty feet. Eight more steps.

Drakis lunged forward, pushing his shoulder into Braun’s stomach. The Proxi doubled over the warrior’s shoulder in surprise.

Axes and sword blades alike were raised. Two steps more to strike.

Drakis wheeled with the Proxi over his shoulder and leaped headlong into the fold.

Drakis fell shoulder first against the stone floor. The impact shook the Proxi from his grip. Drakis felt Braun tumble away from him just as the thunderclap of the closing fold shook the air next to him and plunged him into absolute darkness.

Something fell with a dull thud and a resounding clang next to him. Drakis started, rolling quickly away from the sound. Instinctively, he reached to his side, drawing his sword from its leather scabbard, but though his eyes shifted back and forth in anxious anticipation, sight was useless in the total absence of light.

Black is the sightless light smothering. .

Dead to the waking world sighs. .

Dead is the hero. . Dead to all lament. .

Buried past memory here below. .

He was alone with the song.

Drakis’ hand began to shake uncontrollably in the darkness.