For a long time they marched through the darkness to the steady beat of the drums. Around them dripped sta shy;lactites and columns of natural rock. The spires of stalag shy;mites often rose toward the ceiling like gargantuan fangs. Water trickled here and there through these war shy;rens, and the dank, moldy smell continued to grow stronger.

Often they passed large patches of fungus, where mushrooms had sprouted on a surface of wet rock or within the smooth silt of a clear, shallow pool. All in all, this cavern network seemed more alive than any subter shy;ranean location Ariakas had ever seen-including the lair of the Shilo-Thahn.

Abruptly the drums grew louder, the beat a trifle faster. When Ariakas raised his eyebrows in silent ques shy;tion, the king dismissed his concern with a casual ges shy;ture. "We are approaching the growing warrens. This is the place where we have to be most cautious."

The warrior checked the rank of Zhakar before them. The dwarven guards held weapons at the ready, except for the two drummers. Looking behind, he saw that the rear guard, too, marched as if they expected trouble at any minute.

The cavern narrowed and began to twist and wind. The sound of the drums muffled slightly as the foremost dwarves passed around a corner of the cave. Ariakas's senses suddenly tingled in alarm, and he turned to cast a quick look at his companions. Ferros Windchisel scowled suspiciously while Lyrelee returned his look with concern.

Then with a silence as abrupt as a physical blow, the pounding drumbeats ceased.

"Look out!" shouted Ariakas as he saw sudden move shy;ment behind his companions. Shocked, he realized that the words had made no sound-even in his own ears! He yelled another warning-nothing!

Tik Deepspeaker, from behind Lyrelee, raised his hands and uttered a short chant, though Ariakas heard no sound. The priestess whirled, stumbling into a stone outcrop, and the warrior realized that the savant had blinded her. Grasping his sword, Ariakas instantly heard the cacophony of battle around him-as in the Fireplaza, the touch of the potent weapon had broken the spell of magical attack.

Before he could strike, Ariakas saw a Zhakar rush toward Lyrelee's exposed back, stabbing brutally. Des shy;perately, the priestess whirled away and lashed with a foot that sent her attacker staggering against the wall. Ariakas touched the hilt of his blade to the priestess's shoulder. She blinked and focused her eyes, once again able to see.

Zhakar rushed from all sides. Ariakas cut down a pair, then lunged toward the king. His blow was brought up short when he glimpsed a Zhakaran spear carrier who darted past him and thrust his weapon into Lyrelee's side. The priestess grunted and staggered. Ariakas chopped downward, splitting the skull of the murderous dwarf. Lyrelee fell forward and lay motionless on the ground amid a growing stain of blood.

Ferros was luckier-he raised an arm and took a treacherous hit on his metal wrist plate. Still, the blow knocked the Hylar backward, where he almost tumbled into Ariakas.

Snarling in fury, the human warrior whirled toward the robed king. The Zhakar monarch shrieked and darted down the passage, but Ariakas chopped savagely, propelling his sword through a vicious overhead swing. The gleaming blue blade chopped through the regal robe and into the shoulder beneath. The terrified Zhakar went down, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side. Vaguely Ariakas sensed the rest of the royal guard fleeing down the corridor, but he focused on the pathetic creature at his feet. The warrior kicked sharply and knocked the wretch over, finally hauling him free of the robe. The mold-encrusted face of a Zhakar stared at him, eyes wide in terror-but Ariakas could not suppress a shout of pure rage.

The dwarf before him was not the king!

In fury Ariakas ran the trembling creature through, casting the dead body aside as if it were an empty flagon of beer. In the seconds before the ambush, he realized, Rackas Ironcog must have arranged for this pathetic fool to take his place, allowing the king to escape with the rest of the dwarves.

Where were they? He suddenly realized that the corri shy;dor was empty of Zhakar. The guards before and behind them had vanished into the darkness. Ariakas felt certain he would hear the dwarves if they remained in the same cave. Furious, he realized they must have escaped through a secret passage.

He saw Lyrelee's body, lying facedown in a spreading pool of blood. He knelt and gently turned her over, knowing she was dead-but still, the dull vacancy in her half-opened eyes tore at him like a physical wound.

"Bastards!" he hissed, his eyes searching for a Zhakar-any Zhakar-on whom to vent his fury. He looked at the woman's corpse, thinking of the pleasures that body had given him, before his rage drove him rest shy;lessly to his feet.

He heard a groan and turned to the gasping figure of Ferros Windchisel.

"My eyes! They gouged my eyes out!" blurted the dwarf, his voice cracking in despair.

Ariakas looked at his friend, seeing that-though patches of mold already caked his cheeks-the Hylar's

eyes were fine. He leaned forward, touching the hilt of the great sword to Ferros Windchisel's chest, breaking the spell of blindness. The Hylar blinked quickly, and groaned.

"Well, okay-they didn't gouge my eyes out," he admitted, sitting up and wincing in pain.

"How bad is it?" Ariakas asked.

"Bastard broke my wrist," grunted the Hylar. "Not my axe arm, though."

"Here-I'll help," the human offered. He reached over and placed his hands on the wounded wrist. Closing his eyes, Ariakas tried to conjure up the image of Takhisis, to plead with her for a spell of healing. Instead, that great well of fury opened up. Burned by the rising flames of rage, his faith would not, could not, summon the help of his goddess. With a muffled curse, he sat back on his heels, defeated.

"I can still walk!" declared the dwarf.

"Good-we'd better do some of that."

Cursing softly in teeth-gritting pain, Ferros Wind-chisel rose to his feet. At the sight of Lyrelee's lifeless body he winced, and then looked at the human.

"Can't take her along," Ariakas said coldly. "I think we'll have to fight our way out of here."

"You got that feeling too?" Ferros grunted wryly.

"Still-I don't know who we're supposed to fight." Ariakas gestured to the empty tunnels around them.

But Ferros wasn't listening. Instead, the Hylar raised a cautionary hand and concentrated on the passage before them. The human froze, and in the silence Ariakas heard it too: a squishy kind of noise, repeated rhythmically.

Turning his glowing gem toward the approaching sound, Ariakas strained to see the source. His sword felt light, ready in his hands … but still he remained stub shy;bornly committed to saving the blue blade. Whatever now approached, they would face it with mortal muscle and keen steel.

Ferros looked questioningly at the weapon, but when Ariakas shook his head the dwarf shrugged and hefted his heavy axe. He wielded the weapon one-handed, whipping it nimbly through a series of arcs and slices.

"By Reorx-what is that thing?" demanded the Hylar after a short pause. Ariakas could see nothing beyond the fringes of his light spell.

Then, something moved-something huge. A great, bloated shape came into view, advancing by the side-to-side rolling of two massive, trunklike feet. The body swelled into a distended, oblong sphere that was cov shy;ered all over with scabby patches of mold and fungus.

"It's like some kind of huge plant!" gasped Ferros, his eyes wide with amazement.

Lumbering on the huge pads, the bloblike creature continued resolutely forward. The thing seemed to have no limbs other than those blunt, elephantine feet, though its size alone made it a formidable threat. Ariakas advanced, raising the azure blade, aiming a strike at the midpoint of the long body.