"Is that all?" The kender brightened. "I've been outside all my life.

What do you want to know?"

"Well, to begin with, where exactly was Grallen when he died?"

"I haven't the foggiest notion," Chess said happily.

"Ask me something else." Shaking his head in exasperation, Chane went back to his puzzle. How am I supposed to find a secret entrance if no one has a clue to its location? he wondered. And even if there is a secret entrance, and I find it, what am I supposed to do about it? Apparently the only one who ever knew anything about any of this was Grallen, and he died a long, long time ago and never told anybody… did he?

Chane shook his head. If Grallen did tell someone about the entrance, why didn't somebody do something about it back then? Or since? Why me?

"Dwarves and humans," the kender said. "At least that's what I -"

"Will you please be quiet?" Chane stormed. "Can't you see I'm trying to think?"

"I'm just trying to tell you, there are dwarves and humans down there."

"Where?"

"On the path, where all the animals were. But the animals are mostly past now, and there are people over there, going down that path as fast as they can. Some of them are bleeding, too. I wonder what's going on."

From the top op a rock outcrop, Chane and Chess had a view of the path.

It was below, and some distance away, and the moonlight cast eerie shadows where the slopes rose above it. But it was a view, and Chane crouched there, staring in wonder at the dark shapes moving down the cutback slope.

Dozens were in view, people of all sizes. Some were dwarves, and some were taller – humans, perhaps. Some scampered along the downward path, turning often to look back. Some moved more slowly, clinging to one another; some supporting others, some being carried. Behind the first wave of refugees came a small knot of figures brandishing spears and swords, moving slowly.

A few were shouting at those ahead, urging them on. Others at the rear faced back up the path, their weapons at the ready.

"Somebody's chasing them," Chess said. "That's their rear guard. I wonder who's after them."

Slowly the fleeing people made their way down the angled by-path, disappearing by twos and threes as they reached the cutback below and rounded the shoulder there. Shouts and cries carried upward, distorted by the spires and tumbles of the mountainside and by distance.

"Let's get closer," Chane decided. "I can't tell anything from here." He rose and turned to find the kender already gone, scrambling across tumble-slopes, leaping from stone to stone, heading for a better view of the path. Chane hurried after him.

For long moments the dwarf and the kender were out of sight of the path, but then they emerged on a ledge directly above it and looked down the length of the sloping angle between cutbacks. The path was empty now, as far as they could see. But just opposite the two, in a shadowed canyon from which the path emerged, something was moving, coming toward the turn.

Heavy footfalls crunched in the rubble of the path. Footfalls… and a deep, harsh voice that broke into cruel laughter.

"See 'em run!" the voice rumbled up from the shadows. "Blood an' gore.

Me, I go an' find me more. Bash 'ere skulls an' break 'ere bones! Let 'em go? Haw! Not me. Not Loam!"

The figure that emerged from the darkness was huge a massive, wide-bodied thing that loped down the path on bowed, gnarled legs. It carried a huge club in one hand, which it flailed as though it were a twig.

'%lake 'em run!" the thing bellowed as it passed directly below the dwarf and the kender. "Make 'em fleet Make 'em die… in agony. Hee, hee!"

It skidded in the rubble, faltered for just an instant, and changed course, heading down the cutback where the fleeing people had gone.

"What in tarnish is that?" Chane whispered.

"Ugly, isn't it!" the kender said. 'They're even uglier in front. Here,

I'll show you."

Before Chane could react, the kender stood, drew his hoopak-sling, and sent a large pebble flying after the monster. The pebble bounced off the thing's skull with a distant thud. Howling, the monster slapped a massive hand to its insulted head and spun around. Moon-red eyes in a massive, heavy-browed face darted this way and that, then came to rest on the dwarf and the kender.

"Oops," Chess said.

With a roar that reverberated off the mountain peaks, the great creature started up the path toward them, swinging its club.

"Anyway," Chess said, "now you have a better look at it. I'll bet you've never seen an ogre before. Have you?"

"Puny things!" the ogre roared, gaining momentum. "Throw rock at me?

Loam last thing you will see!"

"What did you do that for?" the dwarf growled. "Now look what -"

"I didn't expect him to be quite so cranky," Chess explained, interrupting. His hoopak-sling sang and another pebble – this one larger – smashed into the advancing ogre's face, full on his wide nose. Dark blood spurted, then dripped downward, veiling the thing's grotesque mouth. The ogre roared again and sprinted toward them.

"I think he's really angry," the kender said. "This one's yours. I'd better look around and see if there are others."

"What?" Chane turned, but the kender was already gone, leaping nimbly from one rock to another, upslope, pausing here and there to peer down into the shadowed pathway below.

"Rust and tarnish!" Chane stared at the advancing monster. The thing was tall enough to reach him with its club, even from the path below the rock where he still crouched. And it was coming fast. He fingered the hilt of his sword, then decided against it and unslung his hammer.

"Kharas aid me now," the dwarf breathed.

Backing up a step from the edge of the rock, Chane glanced quickly at its moonlit top, then knelt and swung. He struck stone with the spike-end of his hammer. Again he swung. Then the dwarf ducked as a hand the size of his back appeared above the stone and swung a massive club that whuffed over him.

Chane's hammer rang again on the surface of the stone, and again. The great club rose above him and descended, crunching into the stone beside him with a sound of thunder. Again the cudgel was raised aloft, and this time Chane had to throw himself to one side as it smashed down where he had been. He rolled, righted himself, and swung his hammer again. The weapon's spike sank into stone, making another hole in a precise line of holes that – he hoped – followed a faint flaw line in the rock.

Just beyond and below the rock outcrop, the ogre leaped upward. For an instant its eyes were level with Chane's. The dwarf dodged, and the club descended again, raising a cloud of stonepowder. The ogre's roar was a rising, echoing thunder of rage. The club thudded here and there, searching for Chane… then paused. The sounds beyond told the dwarf that the monster was climbing. He sighted on the fault line and swung again.

The top of the ogre's head came into view, then its eyes. The creature bellowed in huge pleasure when it saw that the dwarf was trapped there with sheer cliff at his back and no place to go. The ogre clung to the stone and raised its massive club. Chane scooped stone dust and threw it into the huge, grinning, bloody face.

The ogre roared in rage, lost its hold, and dropped from view. Quickly, though, it started climbing again. Chanc's hammer rang. The sound of its impact was different now, a slight, hollow echo accompanying each stroke.

And the spike sank deeper into the stone with each swing. Again the massive hand appeared with its club, and descended a blow that would have flattened and crushed the dwarf, had it found him. Chane panted, concentrating on his work. The scrabbling sounds of clumsy climbing began again, and the ogre's head came into view.