"I showed you before, you'll recall," says the witch, "something of the history of my people, yes?"

"I recall."

"We fought the elves, we fought the trolls, we fought you dwarves—and we fought other things too, things no one remembers. If they were ever written about, those books have long since rotted away."

"But some knowledge remains, does it?"

"Very little. Just rumors: tales that before the elves ruled the long-gone forests, another people ruled them."

"I see. What kind of a people? The Runeking told of creatures that used gems to channel power. Have you heard similar?"

The others quieten down at the mention of the Runeking, and some shift in a little closer to listen. To know one's enemy, they understand, is beyond important.

"Not as such," she says. "And everything is confused—there were many creatures even before the elves, you know. And before those creatures, other ones, and still others before them. Each with their own powers, which rose to the top to rule above and below, before they grew complacent and were thrown down in turn by a junior race."

"But what of the creature we're to face?" I ask. "What can you conjecture?"

"I can guess that it, and whoever held the globe in the second city, were the two most powerful of its kind, and that these caverns were their last bastion."

I nod. "And they tried to bring their forests with them, it seems. In the second city, at least."

"Indeed—maybe in a time before you dwarves arose and descended yourselves."

"Descended?" someone snorts. "We are a people of the underground, human. We were born here."

"Well, maybe you were, and maybe you were born from the mountains. No one knows. The fact that you have eyes, however, does suggest the latter."

"Enough about us dwarves," I say. "The monsters here—after they were forced down, what do you think became of them?"

"What else? They were wiped out. Maybe by trolls, or maybe by dragons—though there is evidence to suggest dragons are a relatively young kind of beast. Or, as what you found in the second city would suggest, they were slain by dwarves. By runeknights."

"Wiped out, ay," Hayhek says glumly. He and Ithis remain at the rear of the formation, but I can hear him just fine through my runic ears. "I wonder why. I wonder what they did to us to deserve it."

"They're monsters," Ithis says dismissively. "If our ancestors did battle with them, I'm sure they had good reason to. We dwarves fight to defend our homes, do we not?"

"Now we do," says Hayhek. "In the days long past, we'd have had to dig out those homes."

"Whatever the reason for the conflict, you won," says Alae. "The only opponent you couldn't defeat, you left imprisoned here."

"I don't think it was we who imprisoned it," I say. "The labyrinth around it wasn't dwarven-make. Back then, I presumed it was sealed off for the protection of the other monsters."

"Still, the fort prevents it from leaving."

"But not from roaming the city," I say. "It stays in the center. It didn't chase after us—it always stayed in the center."

A chill runs through me. There's something we haven't considered, something we're missing. Why is the monster here, anyway? What's its purpose? If it was set as protector of the city, why is it stationed in the city's center? Surely no chains could have lasted so long against its bulk and the ravages of time, unless they were dwarves, which they can't be. So shouldn't the sorcerer be at the gates, or even at the base of the Shaft?

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Why the labyrinth? Why the steps? What's their purpose? Why position the most powerful warrior furthest from combat? It doesn't make sense.

Alae gives voice to my thoughts:

"I wonder why?" she ponders.

"Maybe it's legs have gotten a bit stiff after a million hours," someone jokes.

"Quiet," I snap. "We must think seriously about this."

"It has to be a prisoner," says Ithis. "That's the only explanation. Around the labyrinth were thick walls, yes?"

"That's right," I say. "Thick walls with small windows."

"And at the center of the labyrinth, the pit with the sorcerer. Hidden away from the rest of the city."

"What usually lies at the center of a city though, Ithis?" asks Alae. "I have a guess to make."

"Make it then," Ithis tells her. "We don't have time for riddles. Any number of buildings or halls could be at the center."

"True. And their minds likely work far differently from a dwarf's, or a human's. But usually, it's a city's rulers who reside in the center, in the place furthest from the enemies. I don't think the labyrinth was meant to be a prison. I think it is a castle."

"A castle?" I say.

"Yes. And the sorcerer in the center its king."

"But still, why never leave?"

"What else do you keep in a palace? The rulers, and what else?"

"Enough with the riddles," Ithis snaps. "Tell us."

"Riches," Hayhek whispers. "Treasure—like that the black dragon took from Runethane Thanerzak."

Another shiver runs through me. A guardian of treasure. Is that the true purpose of the darkness? It makes some sense, yet then again, if the sorcerer is simply a guardian, why reach up to attack us so often?

"I'm not sure," I say. "It doesn't quite add up."

"If it is treasure, though..." Ithis says.

I scowl. "We're not here for riches. We're here to defeat the darkness. Nothing else. Whatever happens after, happens after. Focus on the goal.

Ithis bows. "Of course, guildmaster. I apologize for getting ahead of myself."

"Don't worry about it. We're only dwarves. Probably the Runethane is considering similar. In any case, we've rested long enough." I stand up. "Let's continue the march. Clear your heads of any thought about treasures. We're here to fight the darkness. Think only of light burning it away."

My dwarves nod solemnly, though Alae seems not to hear. Her eyes seem almost clouded, as if she's continuing to ponder something. And her face is even more lined than usual, with worry as well as age.

So, we march on. The group of runeknights ahead of us haven't gained so much time. Perhaps they stopped to rest as well. The glow of their maces is as bright as ever, and in front of them, stretching a mile long, are hundreds more fighters with their own weapons of light. It's easy to imagine such a force being unstoppable, a great white lance thrusting forward, so bright that no dark armor could ever stop it.

Yet I know better. I've seen the darkness for myself, as have most of the seventy in my force today. It's plenty strong enough to break this army and send it running. I remember how exactly it kills, subsuming and wiping out the life from anyone it targets, like a hand closing around a candle-flame and snuffing it out. Too many deaths like that, and the main part of the army will surely shatter.

For now, though, nothing like that happens. We march, rest, march. Then, after many long hours, I hear it up ahead: a change in the shape of the tunnel—semi-circular to widely rectangular. The texture of the walls changes from rough and pick-scarred to smooth. We're nearly at the breach. My ruby warms, and the skin beneath it itches from the heat.

Then, too quickly, we're here. I step down the border and lead my dwarves through the hall. The passage of so many dwarves has stirred the air-currents, so that the nearly spaced piles of dust that were here all those years ago have become scattered.

Soon after, the dwarves ahead of us march through the exit. Once their rumbling has passed, I can hear the shape of rubble at either side of the door. A memory flashes into my mind, of Runethane Yurok battering the door to pieces, and heavy stone breaking on his armor as if it was nothing but water. Is my armor now as strong as his was then? It did him no good, though. Only the light counts.

Just before we reach the final breach ourselves, I call a halt.

"We're here," I say. "This is the city. I told you before what it's like, and our plan. I do not need to remind you. You know the risks of it, too. I trust that they do not scare you too much."

"No!" says Ithis. "We are not afraid, are we, Runic League?"

"No!" they chorus.

The plan is a risky one: we will circle the labyrinth wall to see if there is another way in besides the main ramp—perhaps a second ramp, or else some kind of hidden entrance. If there isn't, we'll just follow the main force on through the main entrance. Whatever the case, though, we'll always be separated from them, and thus vulnerable to attack. The darkness will likely focus its main attentions on Nthazes and the Runethane, but it's too much to hope that it'll ignore us entirely.

"Good. Stay close to me. The brighter Nightcutter gets, the easier it'll be for me to cut apart the darkness. If you see or hear something, tell me immediately so I can strike at it."

"I sense something now," Hayhek says, pointing. "In the city."

Alarmed, I turn, and direct Nightcutter's beam away so I can risk a look. Even before I open my eyes, though, I sense it. A slight quieting of the march, and then distant shouting.

I open my eyes. The steady glow of the army is fading and re-brightening in turns. A wail sounds out, of grief. The echoes of rage-filled roars follow it.

The darkness has come to do battle.

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