In this lower spiral there was no light at all.

Surrounded by complete darkness, Jilian ran as she had never run before, counting her steps, trusting her dwarven instincts and the skills of the tunnelers who had built this place long ago. The lower spiral would be a twin of the upper… she hoped. She put her faith in the dwarven passion for symmetry and ran. The thudding footfalls of the ogre echoed off walls around her, and its rumbling curses were thunder in her ears. The monster was no more than a half-turn behind, and she wondered for a moment how something that big could move so quickly in a black tunnel. Then she recalled something Wingover had said about ogres. Ogres are at home underground. It's their natural element.

Well, it's mine, too, Jilian thought fiercely. And no ogre built this place. Dwarves did. "You don't belong here, you ugly rust-heap!" she shouted. "You aren't fit to use a good delving!"

Behind her the ogre roared again and quickened its pace.

Again counting her steps, and putting blind faith in the good judgment of dwarven delvers, she sprinted another dozen paces, then stopped, turned to her right, and scurried forward. In the upper spiral there had been a small cubicle opening to the left. In the lower tunnel, midway, there should be one to the right.

It was there. Jilian found the opening and scurried through, holding her breath as the ogre raced past… and stopped. For a long moment there was silence, then she heard its rasping breath, returning. It knew she had eluded it, and it was coming back to search. Quickly, Jilian felt around on the floor. Her hand closed on a small, flat stone. She eased herself to the portal, edged partway into the tunnel, and threw the stone upshaft, toward the staging room. The stone rang against rock wall, and the ogre chuckled in the darkness. Jilian ducked into the cubicle again as it charged past, heading back up the tunnel. Then the girl darted out into the tunnel and ran.

She hadn't gained much. Within seconds the ogre was in pursuit again and closing. She ran and let dwarven instinct guide her flying feet.

Abruptly, she realized that she could see the walls.

There was light ahead, and it was growing. The lower end of the spiral-shaft was ahead.

Another hundred yards and the tunnel bent slightly to the left, straightened, and ended. Jilian sprinted between fallen stones and emerged on a cleared shelf on the side of a mountain – a shelf that once had been the terminus of a path. But there was no path now. It had sheared away in some long-ago rockfall. It would be a tedious climb, to get down to better ground, but at least now there was light.

"So far, so good," Jilian panted, then turned as a thunderous growl erupted behind her. Only yards away, the ogre had emerged from the tunnel.

It still held a hand over one eye.

"I'm warning you," Jilian shouted, "I'm getting very tired of this.

You'd better go away and leave me alone." The ogre growled again and started for her. Jilian picked up a rock and flung it, aiming for the thing's other eye. The rock bounced off the monster's nose.

"Oh, rust," Jilian swore. "That's only made things worse." She hefted her sword and squared her stance sideways to the approaching ogre. "I didn't want to have to do this," she muttered.

As the monster charged, Jilian braced her feet and swung the sword with all her strength.

Atop the pass, the others had split up. Wiwgover sent Bobbin sailing off westward to have a look at the backtrail, then swung into his saddle and spurred his horse down the twisting, perilous path that led away into the

Vale of Respite. Chane Feldstone started after him, then glanced aside and recognized the cavern behind the rockfall. "Tunneling," he muttered.

Without a backward look, he dashed into the cavern and ran, his hammer at the ready. Within a few yards, his nostrils caught the earthy scent of ogre, and he gritted his teeth. "Jilian," he whispered. "Ah, Reorx.

Jilian…"

Chestal Thicketsway was right behind the dwarf, followed by a whining, complaining, voiceless voice that seemed to object fiercely to being dragged through subterranean places.

The wizard Glenshadow watched them go, then chose a peak and began to climb. He noticed almost immediately that the crystal atop his staff had cleared as soon as Chane Feldstone went underground. It was something important to remember, regarding Spellbinder. Glenshadow climbed, seeking an ice pool that would give him seeing eyes.

Down and down the searchers went, the dwarf and the kender pounding down a long, corkscrew spiral in the heart of the mountain; the mounted man descending the slope, looking everywhere, trying to see everything. In the cavern with the light shaft, Chane found prints in the dust on the stone floor and paused, then hurried on. Jilian was ahead somewhere, with the ogre in pursuit. As one, Chane and Chess darted into the far tunnel and continued downward, running as fast as they could in the darkness. The kender's natural balance and simple luck were all that kept him abreast of the tunnel-wise dwarf.

The downward slope eased, and the tunnel began to straighten. Chane put on more speed. Just ahead, he knew, the shaft should emerge into open air.

And if Jilian had managed to escape the ogre in the tunnel – how, he couldn't imagine – her fate would be sealed when the monster had room to maneuver. Outside, she would have no chance.

The tunnel wound slightly to the left, and then there was light ahead… light and an abrupt, heart-stopping sound. A shrill, agonized scream reverberated back into the tunnel from just beyond its end. Chane put his head down, filled his aching lungs, and plunged ahead into the evening light. Off to one side, he heard a horseman coming downslope, rocks clattering beneath charging hooves.

The dwarf raised his hammer. As Chane skidded to a halt, the kender bumped into him from behind, then dashed aside to wield his hoopak.

But there was nothing to attack. Chane and Chess gathered there, staring in wonder.

Jilian was a spinning top, just beginning to run down – a flashing, tilting, dancing blur spewing blood from the point of an extended sword.

Cloven carnage was just collapsing, almost at her twirling feet. The head and shoulders of an ogre thudded down on top of a tangled pile of bloody parts, just as the dwarven girl's sword flashed around again and took off the top of its skull, above its eyes.

"By the Hammer of Kharas," Chane swore.

"Yuk," Chestal Thicketsway said.

"What in the name of all the gods?" Wingover's voice came from just upslope. "Jilian? Are you… are you all right?"

Jilian pivoted a few more times, then got her balance.

Wordlessly the girl lowered the point of her sword and rested on its hilt as she tried to catch her breath. She stared at the pile of sliced ogre, then turned away, wrinkling her nose. At the sight of Chane, she ran to him. "I knew you'd come," she puffed, "but that… he didn't give me any time to wait for you."

Chane simply stared at the dismembered ogre, speechless.

"He was rude," Jilian explained. "He wasn't behaving well at all."

Chane began to shake his head, slowly.

"That's Cleft," Jilian introduced, pointing at the stack of ogre parts.

"That's one way to put it," Chess noted. "Although 'sliced' would be a better word. Wow! Look at that! Feet…shins… knees… hands… thighs… nothing is connected together. Even his head's in two pieces.

Wow!"

Wingover had dismounted, and now he, too, stood and stared.

"I never realized that ogres had two stomachs," Chess remarked, poking around in the gore of the monster with a stick.

Chane took Jilian's sword and began to clean it, still shaking his head.