"I've got my father there, and a friend… a lady friend. You saw what happened over there, what's happening to all Thorbardin. I'm certain that they need my help," the half-breed declared urgently.

"You help to fight?"

"Yes, probably," Tarn agreed. Abruptly his hand went to his belt, where he usually carried his sword. Naturally, the loop was empty. He hadn't seen the blade since he had been drugged at his mother's house. "Although I have to admit I'm in sore need of a weapon."

"Here! This cutter too big for me," offered the tiny Duck Bigdwarf.

"Thanks, friend." Tarn took the proffered short sword, wondering how an Aghar had come to possess such a splendid weapon. Only then did he recognize the gem in the pommel, see the crest of white granite in the hilt, and realize that it was his own blade. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. What was the use?

Meanwhile, the gully dwarves had put their heads together in a murmured council, during which another mug of grog was passed around and several voices had risen in heated discussion. Just when the vile beverage was beginning to look almost palatable to Tarn, Regal Everwise lifted his head from the group and fixed him with a direct glare.

"Can we go to Hybardin too?" Regal asked bluntly. "We never go there before; wanna go now."

"I don't think this is the time for sightseeing," Tarn replied, his mind distracted. "And I really think you'd be safer here."

"Safer?" Duck declared indignantly. "We safe alia places. But how you get to Hybardin, you not have our help?"

"I don't know," Tarn declared with a rueful laugh. "But just for the sake of argument, how would I get to Hybardin if I did have your help?"

"Easy," declared Poof Firemaker, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We could fly there, or swim!"

"Or we could ride that fire dragon. Big fun!" added Duck Bigdwarf.

"Hmmph!" sniffed Regal. "This big dwarf not looking for fun. He gotta go see his pop and his lady love."

The other Aghar nodded pensively, clearly understanding this high motive.

"Thanks anyway," Tarn said. "But I don't think I can fly or swim that far. As for the fire dragon, I'd hate to be the one who had to ask him for a ride."

"No, no, no. Those stupid plans," declared the ever-wise Regal. "We go to Hybardin, we do it right!"

"And how do you do that?" Tarn couldn't refrain from asking.

"Easy. We go to Daerforge and steal a boat."

Dark Dwarf Decisions

"Help me, you fools!" Darkend thrashed in the water, clawing over the sinking bodies of his crew. He cursed his gauntlets as his fingers slipped from the metal hull of the swamped lake boat. Panic rose in his gorge, horror of death by water penetrating to the very core of his being. Feeling the cold liquid soak through his beard, rising to his chin, he shrieked desperately at any Daergar in earshot.

The thane could see nothing beyond the piercingly bright image of that fiery dragon that had been scarred into his mind. His feet were loosely touching the hull of the boat, but that tenuous support was completely submerged and sinking fast. Frigid waters rose past his face, spilling into his mouth, choking, gagging him. He felt himself sinking deeper and deeper.

And then the boat was gone from underneath him, and he was surrounded by a suffocating presence. His hands broke the surface momentarily, clawed futilely at the air, and then he was sinking faster into the vast and murderous nothingness of deep water.

Abruptly a hand reached down to seize him by the wrist, and Darkend found himself being hauled roughly into the hull of another boat. He was tumbled onto the deck with an utter lack of ceremony, and for several minutes he could only cough and gasp at the feet of his rescuers. Shivering, retching, he clung mindlessly to life. Finally he caught his breath and sat up, glaring around him with eyes that had begun to regain some semblance of darksight. Each inhalation was still a horrible, bubbling effort.

He couldn't stand to face the brightness of Hybardin's docks, so he examined the dark dwarves in the boat with him. The Daergar crew that had rescued him was a veteran lot, many scarred from decades of battle. No doubt each of them had seen and worked considerable mayhem and bloodshed during those years. Yet now they glanced uneasily toward the shore, then looked at Darkend with expressions of pleading, of uneasiness… of fear.

His anger had settled somewhat, stifling his instincts of rebuke and rage with the realization that he was lucky to be alive. There was no sign of his original boat, nor of the dozens of dwarves who had served as their thane's loyal crew. Somehow the crew of this boat must have seen him go down and acted with desperate haste to grab him and save his life.

He forced himself to look at the shore, squinting against a much greater illumination than had existed when the attack began. Steam in great clouds wafted across the surface of Hybardin. In places the mist swirled away from the bedrock with a churning force and crimson glow. He sensed the raw heat that lay behind these eruptions. With another curl of moving air he saw that a great slab of the overhanging cliff was aglow with inner warmth.

"It's lava… melting rock," he breathed in awe.

"Aye, lord, and much has already flowed away." One of the nearby rowers spoke up, his own voice hushed. "Look there, if you please. Them was the docks where we first landed."

Darkend saw a smooth slab of stone, sweeping evenly to the edge of the water-an edge that was still bubbling and steaming as the liquid contacted superheated rock.

"A hundred dwarves was standin' there when the heat came. My thane, I swear by Reorx they were burned into ash as I watched!" declared another rower.

"What was that… that… flying monster?" asked the thane, addressing the gray-bearded coxswain at the rudder of his boat. "The living fire that came out of the water and took to the air like a dragon?"

"Never saw the like," declared the fellow. "But it sank a dozen boats in the blink of one eye. Then it touched the rock there-" He pointed at the hot surface of the cliff, which had poured away to reveal a shallow, black-walled cave. "-and just vanished. Like it was diving into water, it just flew into the cliff."

Another wave surged through the water, rocking the boat and reminding Darkend of the peril of his current position. Gusting winds, a strange and unnatural phenomenon in Thorbardin, whipped the water around him into spray. He saw some boats that had capsized and others that were half-swamped. And even with a quick count he guessed that at least a score of his vessels had already plunged to the bottom of the underground sea.

"You, there-and you!" He stood tall in the hull and pointed to two boats that still had full complements of warriors and were captained by seasoned leaders. "Get to shore and pass the word. I want the docks held! There is to be no retreat!"

"Aye, Lord Thane!" chorused the pair of warriors, immediately urging their men to press oars.

Before they got very far, however, the loudest explosion Darkend had ever heard rocked through Thorbardin. A great section at the bottom of the Life-Tree gave way. Massive slabs of rock tumbled downward and smashed across the waterfront and plaza. A cloud of dust swept outward, thick and choking, followed quickly by a surging wave raised by the debris that crashed into the water. Echoes rocked the air, mingled with the screams of crushed, dying dwarves and the exultant braying of the fire dragons that still circled and dove through the fringes of destruction.

The thane couldn't see the base of the city, but he was certain that hundreds, maybe thousands, of dwarves on both sides had been crushed to death in the collapse. Dark dwarves and Hylar had been locked in battle directly under the massive rockfall, but all sounds of combat had been overwhelmed by the thunder of crashing stone.