As the underside of the platform grew larger, the ringing in the scout's ears grew fainter. By the time he glimpsed flashes of Basil's hands pulling the rope up through the chain slots, Tavis could hear-not quite normally, but well enough to communicate.

"Where are the ogres?" he yelled.

"Close, but we have time," came the response.

"Not enough," Tavis growled. "Without the gate, they'll catch us in the cave."

"No, they won't." Avner said proudly. "Once we're up, just start running. Leave the rest to Basil and me."

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll have Bear Driller ready," Tavis replied.

The scout pulled his bow off his shoulder. As Basil raised him through the chain slot, he jumped onto the platform, already nocking a black shaft. He slipped past his three panting companions and took aim down the road. The ogres were less than fifty paces away, easily within arrow range, but their bows remained slung over their backs and they were carrying hand axes or warhammers instead. Tavis quickly realized the reason for their choice of weaponry. If they shot the people hauling the rope up, they would send Brianna plunging to her death-and that was the last thing Goboka wanted.

Tavis had no such concerns about the welfare of the ogres. He loosed his first shaft and dropped the leader of the pack. The others leaped over him and continued charging. As the scout nocked his second shaft, he heard Avner scrambling onto the platform. Taking his own advice, the youth rushed straight into the fault cave.

Tavis fired again, dropping another ogre. The next two brutes kept coming, their purple eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

Brianna jumped onto the platform and rushed into the cave after Avner, yelling. "I'll make us a light!"

Tavis nocked another arrow. The ogres were less than thirty steps away.

Before the scout could fire. Basil brushed past him. "You may as well save your arrow!"

The verbeeg kneeled at the edge of the platform where it joined the hanging road, then pulled his dagger and began to carve. Tavis peered over Basil's shoulder and saw that the runecaster had already cut an elaborate symbol into the wood and was just etching the last line.

"Go!" Basil urged.

Tavis started to back toward the cave, then thought better of it and glanced toward Goboka. The shaman remained where he had been standing all along, but was now stretching one arm toward the platform.

Morten started to scream, but the cry quickly changed to a choking gurgle. Tavis swung around to see an ogre's gnarled fingers shooting from the sore on the bodyguard's throat. An eerie blue aura of magical energy was dancing over the digits, crackling and snapping like lightning. In the next instant, the shaman's entire hand appeared, its black talons straining for Basil's back. Morten began to stumble forward against his will, as though Goboka were pulling him toward the runecaster.

The bodyguard dropped to his knees behind Basil. In words so garbled Tavis could barely understand them, he gurgled, "Throw me over!"

Goboka's arm stretched forward and ripped Basil away from his work.

"Do it!" Morten urged.

The scout glanced down the road and saw that the ogres were still twenty paces away. "No."

Tavis reached down and jerked the hand axe from Morten's makeshift bell, then brought the blade down on the ichor-covered appendage protruding from the bodyguard's throat. The blow severed the arm with a sort of wet crackle. The stump of the limb receded into the festering sore from which it had come, and a pained wail rang out from the ridge.

Tavis glanced toward the sound and saw Goboka clutching his shoulder. Even from so far away, the scout could see that nothing hung below the elbow.

"Give me that!" Morten growled.

Tavis felt the axe being ripped from his hand, then saw Morten charge down the road to meet the ogres.

"Come back, Morten!" Tavis yelled.

"I can't finish the rune with you down there!" Basil added. "You'll be killed."

"That what he wants, verbeeg," Ooo said. "Finish rune."

"No," Tavis replied. "We can cure-"

Ooo shoved her way past the scout, nearly knocking him from the platform. "No time for stupid feelings."

The fomorian snatched Basil's dagger and, as Morten crashed into the ogre pack, carved the rune's last line.

A coating of bright green moss instantly spread down the path. The timbers began to rot, dropping away in a steady stream of decomposing matter. A deep groan sounded from the wooden buttresses, then the hanging road tilted steeply, spilling Morten and the ravaged ogre pack toward the valley floor.

Ooo dropped the dagger at Basil's side. "Escape complete. Now bargain done." The fomorian stepped into the fault cave. Without looking back, she called, "Good-bye, Tavis Burdun." *17* Goboka Returns

From deep in the forest echoed a loud, sharp thump, then something began to crash through the underbrush toward them. Too exhausted to leap up, Tavis and his three companions slowly gathered their weapons and dragged themselves to their feet.

"Do we run or fight?" asked Avner.

"I can't do either-at least not well," Basil complained. "I'm too tired."

The company had been on the move for two solid days and had glimpsed the distant figure of a lone, one-armed ogre often enough to know Goboka was dogging their trail. Apparently, the rest of the ogres-if any had survived the battle at Noote's lodge-remained trapped in the hill giant valley, for the shaman had no warriors with him. To make certain, Tavis had even circled back twice and found signs of only their single pursuer.

"Maybe we should hide." Brianna said. "If we're too tired to run or fight, that's our only option."

Tavis shook his head. "The cover's not good enough."

They were standing beside a cold bog, surrounded by swamp spruce, white birch, and tamarack. The terrain was flat and level in all directions, with nothing to offer protection except fallen tree trunks and a single boulder.

"Besides, Goboka wouldn't make so much noise unless he's already seen us," the scout added.

"Maybe it's not Goboka," suggested Brianna, staring into the forest. "If he can see us, we should see him too."

"What are you implying?" asked Basil.

Brianna licked her finger and held it in the air. "That noise is coming from downwind," she said. "Whatever's coming, I'd say it smelled us."

"A bear?" Avner asked.

Two more thumps echoed through the woods. The unseen beast snorted in alarm, then seemed to regain its footing and continue crashing through the undergrowth. Tavis could now hear its footfalls well enough to realize the creature was galloping.

"It's a horse," the scout said.

"Blizzard?" Brianna gasped.

A loud whinny rang off the trees, then the horse's white-flecked head and chest came flying into view, her hooves barely clearing the jumble of logs over which she had leaped. She caught sight of Brianna and whinnied again, galloping toward the princess as fast as she could. The mare looked as haggard and tired as the four companions. Her coat was dull and rough, so smeared with dirt and mud that it was more brown than black. Her mane and tail were tangled with burrs, and she had lost so much weight that her ribs stuck out like sticks.

Brianna stepped away from the boulder and spread her arms. Blizzard did not slow down until she was almost upon the princess, and the impact as she galloped into her mistress's arms would have sent a smaller woman tumbling into the cold bog. As it was, Brianna stumbled and nearly fell, but the near mishap did not wipe the smile from her face.

Tavis found the sight of Brianna's gleaming teeth a welcome one. It was the first time he had seen her smile in longer than he cared to remember.

The princess finally released Blizzard's neck and began to stroke the mare's nose. "It looks like you've had a rough time of it, girl," she said. "You must be as ready to go home as I am."