Douglas Niles - The Heir of Kayolin

“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 them 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.

Sadie looked at Peat, who could only shrug helplessly.

“Perhaps you stole it from your master,” the black wizard suggested. “From he who established you in your store here in Norbardin, who cared for you and trained you, provided for your needs … all the while asking for so little in return.”

“Please, Master …” Sadie’s voice was a croaking whisper.

“Silence!” barked Willim the Black. He snapped his fingers, and even though Sadie’s nearly toothless mouth continued to flex, no sound came from her. Peat yelped, or tried to yelp, but his own voice was also swallowed within the cloak of the wizard’s muzzling spell.