Dennis McKiernan - The Brega path

The Dwarf turned and threw back his hood. It was Barak! The dead Gatemaster! Slain by the Rucks far away on the shores of the Argon River! "All delved chambers have ways* in," Barak intoned in a sepulchral voice, "and ways out, if you can find the secret of the door and have the key. Without the key even a Wizard or an evil Vulk cannot pass through some doors." The raft burst into flames, and Barak lay down onvthe platform and uttered one more word: "Gldr!"

The burning raft whirled off on the swift-running silveron vein, and Perry woke up calling out, "Barak! Barak! Come back!"

When Perry opened his eyes, Shannon Silverleaf was bending over the Warrow shaking him by the shoulder. "Wake up, Friend Perry," urged the Elf, "your slumber disturbs you."

"Oh, Shannon, I had the strangest dream," declared the Warrow, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the far wall to see if it was truly transparent; but he saw only solid stone. "It was all mixed up with rivers of silveron, the Rucks, this chamber, the Dread, and a conversation I had with Barak long ago in our last camp by the Great River Argon, where he was slain."

"Though Elves do not sleep as Men, Drimma, and Waerlinga do," stated Shannon, "still I believe I can understand the way of some dreams. Though many are strange and appear to make little sense, now and again darktide visions do seem to have significance; mayhap yours is one of those."

"Maybe it is," agreed Perry. "I've got to talk to Delk. He's a Gatemaster, as was Barak." The Warrow rose and went to the brown-bearded Dwarf who was standing guard at

the notch with Ursor. "Delk," began Perry, "Barak and I often chatted at night. Once he told me that all delved chambers had doors, some secret; and for those what is needed is to divine each secret and to have the key it calls for. Delk, this Gargon's Lair is a delved chamber. Surely there must be a way out other than through a hole in a broken wall. Barak must be right."

"Were this chamber Chak-deived, I would agree," grunted Delk, "but it is not. The work is more like that of… of.._." Delk fell silent in thought, then continued. "Old beyond measure, I deem, like the work of an ancient Folk called the Lianion-Elves-though but traces of their craft remain that I have seen."

"Lianion-Elves?" exclaimed Shannon. "The Lianion-Elves are my Folk, the Lian!" Now it was Silverieaf's turn to fall silent and study the chamber. "You are correct, Drimm Delk: this chamber does resemble the work of my ancestors, though it is different in some ways. I knew that my Folk had known of the Lost Prison, but that we delved it would be news to me. And if delved by the Lian, I doubt that originally it was meant to house such a guest as a Gargon-though as to its initial intent, I cannot say."

"Well, if Barak was right," said Perry, "there is a secret way out strong enough to defy even an evil Vulk. And if we can find it, maybe we can divine the way to open it. You are a Gatemaster, Delk; surely you can locate a hidden door. And you, Shannon, your Folk perhaps made this place; maybe you can find the secret way. We've got to try."

"Ah, but Friend Perry," protested Delk, "we all have searched every square inch-walls and floor alike-and we have found nought." Delk looked from the cleft to the far wall and finally at the slain Rucks; then he growled thoughtfully, "Nay, not all; we have not searched it all. We have not searched where the Grg arrows can reach. But the dead-Ukh barricade is now high enough that if we stay low we can safely examine the stone block in the center of the chamber.''

Delk awakened Borin to take his place at the cleft, and then Gatemaster, Elf, and Warrow crawled to the central platform and began the search.

Perry watched as the other two carefully inspected the stone, but his mind kept spinning back to his dream of Barak: the Dwarf had said, "Gldr!" yet Perry knew as a Ravenbook Scholar that gldr was the Sluk word for "fire." Though the raft in-the dream had burst into flames, why would^he dream that Barak had said a Sliik word? How did fire bear on their problem? Maybe it meant nothing. Perry watched as the search continued.

Delk had begun to examine the silveron seam running up the side of the block, and suddenly he gave a start. "This vein is not native to the stone," he muttered after long study, "it is crofted! — made to look like a natural branching of the starsilver offshoot. And see! Here the silveron is shaped strangely, like two runes-though I cannot fathom their message."

Shannon crawled around to join Delk, staying well below — ^ the Ruck arrow line, and peered at the silver thread, "These are vaguely like ancient Lian runes, made to look like odd whorls of silveron in the stone. This rune, I would guess it to say 'west,* and the other rune says 'point*-or mayhap 'pick1 is more accurate, I'm not sure. West-point or west-pick, that is the best I can guess these odd runes to mean."

"Hola!" exclaimed Delk, "Here is a thin slot in the stone at the end of the crafted vein, as if the silveron had run its course but the crack ran on a bit. Mayhap-"

"The Wrg are up to something," rumbled Ursor at the notch, interrupting Delk. "They may be preparing another rush. They are chittering like rats, and again I can hear them calling, 'gldr!' "

"Gldr!" exclaimed Perry, startled. "That's what Barak t… Ah yes, I see: I heard it in my sleep. Ursor, gldr is a Sulk word for fire." The three crawled away from the stone block and out of arrow flight, and stood beside Ursor. "What can they be up to?" asked Perry, listening to the Sluk jabber.

"I have my suspicions,'1 growled Ursor. "We've been trapped here many hours. Time enough for them to devise some terrible plot and secure the means to carry it out."

"Look!" cried Delk, pointing to the floor at the cleft. In through the entrance a dark Eiquid flowed. They could hear a wooden barrel being broken, and a surge of fluid gushed in through the notch. "It is lamp oil," growled Delk, testing it with his finger and smelling it. Then his eyes widened- "They.seek to flood the chamber with oil and set it afire!"

• Shannon fitted an arrow to his bow and quickly stepped across the entrance, loosing the bolt as he went. A scream came from the dark notch as the longbow-driven shaft found a victim. Delk awakened Anval and Lord Kian. The young Man joined Shannon, and they sped missiles into the cleft, and the Spawn answered with bolts of their own. In spite of the arrows, oil continued to gush forth from the notch to overspread the chamber floor.

Perry watched in desperation, for he knew that the maggot; folk were nearly ready to transform this prison into a burning tomb. We have to get out! thought the Warrow frantically, on the edge of panic. But then with a conscious force of will he wrenched his terrified mind toward the paths of reason. Now settle down. Don't bolt. And above all, use your scholar's brains to think! The buccan believed that there was a hidden door, and he felt that the secret and its solution was within his grasp if he could only get the time to think it through. What had Barak said that night long ago on the banks of the River? Something about Lian Grafters. "These doors are usually opened by Elven-made things." Barak had said, "carven jewels, glamoured keys, ensorcelled rings," and something else, but what? What did the runes on the stone block mean, "west-point"? Perry glanced up at the Elf.

"Lord Kian," urged Silverleaf, "before they put the torch to this oil, let us rush them. At least we will take some of that evil spawn with us." Ursor grunted his agreement, Delk thumbed the blade of his axe, and Anval and Bonn nodded. Shannon drew his long-knife, shaped much the same as Bane. "This edge of the Lian, forged in Lost Duellin-the Land of the West-will taste Rupt blood for perhaps the last time; yet this pick, though it has not the power bound into the blade as that of the Waerling's pick, will-"