Raymond E. Feist - The Complete Riftwar Saga Trilogy - Magician, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon

The survivors sank to the ground, near exhaustion. Pug had fought tears for hours after Tomas had fled, and now he lay on the wet ground staring upward at the grey sky, feeling numb. Kulgan had fared worst of all, being completely drained of energy by the spell used to repel the wraith. He had been carried on the shoulders of the others most of the way, and they showed the price of their burden. All fell into an exhausted sleep, except Dolgan, who lit a fire and stood watch.

Pug awoke to the sound of voices and a clear, starry night. The smell of food cooking greeted him. When Gardan and the three remaining guards awakened, Dolgan had left them to watch over the others and had snared a brace of rabbits. These were roasting over a fire. The others awoke, except Kulgan, who snored deeply.

Arutha and the Duke saw the boy wake, and the Prince came to where he sat. The younger son of the Duke, ignoring the snow, sat on the ground next to Pug, who had his cloak wrapped around him. ‘How do you feel, Pug?’ Arutha asked, concern showing in his eyes.

This was the first time Pug had seen Arutha’s gentler nature. Pug tried to speak and found tears coming to his eyes. Tomas had been his friend as long as he could remember, more a brother than a friend. As he tried to speak, great racking sobs broke from his throat, and he felt hot, salty tears run down into his mouth.

Arutha placed his arm around Pug, letting the boy cry on his shoulder. When the initial flood of grief had passed, the Prince said, ‘There is nothing shameful in mourning the loss of a friend, Pug. My father and I share your pain.’

Dolgan came to stand behind the Prince. ‘I also, Pug, for he was a likable lad. We all share your loss.’ The dwarf seemed to consider something and spoke to the Duke.

Kulgan had just awakened, sitting up like a bear waking from winter’s sleep. He regained his bearings and, seeing Arutha with Pug, quickly forgot his own aching joints and joined them.

There was little they could say, but Pug found comfort in their closeness. He finally regained his composure and pulled away from the Prince. ‘Thank you. Your Highness,’ he said, sniffing. ‘I will be all right.’

They joined Dolgan, Gardan, and the Duke near the fire. Borric was shaking his head at something the dwarf had said. ‘I thank you for your bravery, Dolgan, but I can’t allow it.’

Dolgan puffed on his pipe, a friendly smile splitting his beard. ‘And how do you intend to stop me, Your Grace? Surely not by force?’

Borric shook his head. ‘No, of course not. But to go would be the sheerest folly.’

Kulgan and Arutha exchanged questioning looks. Pug paid little attention, being lost in a cold, numb world. In spite of having just awakened, he felt ready for sleep again, welcoming its warm, soft relief.

Borric told them, ‘This mad dwarf means to return to the mines.’

Before Kulgan and Arutha could voice a protest, Dolgan said, ‘I know it is only a slim hope, but if the boy has eluded the foul spirit, he’ll be wandering lost and alone. There are tunnels down there that have never known the tread of a dwarf’s foot, let alone a boy’s. Once down a passage, I have no trouble making my way back, but Tomas has no such natural sense. If I can find his trail, I can find him. If he is to have any chance of escaping the mines, he’ll be needing my guidance. I’ll bring home the boy if he lives, on this you have the word of Dolgan Tagarson, chief of village Caldara. I could not rest in my long hall this winter if I did not try.’

Pug was roused from his lethargy by the dwarf’s words. ‘Do you think you can find him, Dolgan?’

‘If any can, I can,’ he said. He leaned close to Pug. ‘Do not get your hopes too high, for it is unlikely that Tomas eluded the wraith. I would do you a disservice if I said otherwise, boy.’ Seeing the tears brimming in Pug’s eyes again, he quickly added, ‘But if there is a way, I shall find it.’

Pug nodded, seeking a middle path between desolation and renewed hope. He understood the admonition, but still could not give up the faint flicker of comfort Dolgan’s undertaking would provide.

Dolgan crossed over to where his shield and ax lay and picked them up. ‘When the dawn comes, quickly follow the trail down the hills through the woodlands. While not the Green Heart, this place has menace aplenty for so small a band. If you lose your way, head due east. You’ll find your way to the road to Bordon. From there it is a matter of three days’ walk. May the gods protect you.’

Borric nodded, and Kulgan walked over to where the dwarf made ready to leave. He handed Dolgan a pouch. ‘I can get more tabac in the town, friend dwarf. Please take this.’

Dolgan took it and smiled at Kulgan. ‘Thank you, magician. I am in your debt.’

Borric came to stand before the dwarf and place a hand on his shoulder. ‘It is we who are in your debt, Dolgan. If you come to Crydee, we will have that meal you were promised. That, and more. May good fortune go with you.’

‘Thank you, Your Lordship. I’ll look forward to it.’ Without another word, Dolgan walked into the blackness of Mac Mordain Cadal.

Dolgan stopped by the dead mules, pausing only long enough to pick up food, water, and a lantern. The dwarf needed no light to make his way underground – his people had long ago adapted other senses for the darkness. But, he thought, it will increase the chances of finding Tomas if the boy can see the light, no matter the risk of attracting unwelcome attention. Assuming he is still alive, he added grimly.

Entering the tunnel where he had last seen Tomas, Dolgan searched about for signs of the boy’s passing. The dust was thin, but here and there he could make out a slight disturbance, perhaps a footprint. Following, the dwarf came to even dustier passages, where the boy’s footfalls were clearly marked. Hurrying, he followed them.

Dolgan came back to the same cavern, after a few minutes, and cursed.

He felt little hope of finding the boy’s tracks again among all the disturbance caused by the fight with the wraith. Pausing briefly, he set out to examine each tunnel leading out of the cavern for signs. After an hour he found a single footprint heading away from the cavern, through a tunnel to the right of where he had entered the first time. Moving up it, he found several more prints, set wide apart, and decided the boy must have been running. Hurrying on, he saw more tracks, as the passage became dustier.

Dolgan came to the cavern on the lake and nearly lost the trail again, until he saw the tunnel near the edge of the landing. He slogged through the water, pulling himself up into the passage, and saw Tomas’s tracks. His faint lantern light was insufficient to illuminate the crystals in the cavern. But even if it had, he would not have paused to admire the sight, so intent was he on finding the boy.

Downward he followed, never resting. He knew that Tomas had long before outdistanced the wraith. There were signs that most of his journey was at a slower pace: footprints in the dust showed he had been walking, and the cold campfire showed he had stopped. But there were other terrors besides the wraith down here, just as dreadful.

Dolgan again lost the trail in the last cavern, finding it only when he spied the ledge above where the tracks ended. He had difficulty climbing to it, but when he did, he saw the blackened spot where the boy had snuffed out his torch. Here Tomas must have rested. Dolgan looked around the empty cavern. The air did not move this deep below the mountains. Even the dwarf, who was used to such things, found this an unnerving place. He looked down at the black mark on the ledge. But how long did Tomas stay, and where did he go?

Dolgan saw the hole in the wall and, since no tracks led away from the ledge, decided that was the way Tomas must have gone. He climbed through and followed the passage until it came to a larger one, heading downward, into the bowels of the mountain.