When I return to the diamond mine, there are a number of issues to deal with. None involve the Runic League directly, thankfully, but the dwarves from other guilds are not so disciplined.

A tenth-degree was caught sneaking down into the mine and trying to break into the diamond stores. I order that he be handed to Odrick for punishment. Some runeknights get into an unarmored brawl with common miners. They took offense at having to sleep in adjacent quarters to the commoners. I tell them that if they complain about their rooms one more time, they will be taking up picks themselves.

There are various other minor fights and petty disagreements. These, I leave up to the captains to deal with. Some, like Lekudr, are fairly lenient and understanding. Others, like Ithis, are less so. He believes that those who break the rules should be broken themselves—a little ironic, considering his rather criminal history. I don't approve of the brutality of hammering and rapid healing—especially in light of what the librarian had to say of healing chains—but he is as loyal as always, and his division is proving itself to be strong and disciplined, so I let him carry on. He treats all his dwarves equally, at least.

I wait. Still, not all the Runethanes have arrived yet and nothing can begin. I spend a great deal oftime working on the blade of my new spear, though I'm beginning to think it will not be ready in time for the first battles.

The true metal refuses to change shape. No matter how much I hammer, I don't make so much as a centimeter of progress. I'm not sure if it's because I didn't touch the metal for so long, or else because I've gotten out of practice. Or perhaps it's because I'm not used to my forge here, which, though well-equipped, is not as good as my own.

When I'm out of the forge, I'm often observing my captains drilling the troops. Many have ordered long pikes constructed out of wood and are having their dwarves attempt to imitate the way Uthrarzak's fight. I'm starting to have second thoughts about this idea, though. We are not as coordinated as those trained for centuries to fight like this will be—our fake pike formations fall apart too easily, with wooden clatters and to loud cheering—and I begin to worry that we're planting false confidence in our soldiers.

"That's not the only thing you're worrying about," says Lekudr, one mealtime. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Yes—I'm worried about the whole damn war."

He tilts his head. "There's something else, though. Ever since you returned from your old guildhall, you seem distant. You shouldn't let your soldiers see you like this. Some are starting to whisper, and worry."

I shake my head and swirl my wine. "It's not the old guildhall that's got me like this, captain. It's the library."

He leans over the marble table a little. It's just the two of us, right now. As always, mealtimes in Allabrast are not regular.

"What did you find out, really?" he asks. "You said nothing much, but—"

"It was nothing much. Nothing much for certain, anyway," I add.

"Then there was something uncertain?"

"Yes," I admit. "Yes, there was. Something worrying."

"Does it relate to the masons?"

"No." I grimace. "To the Runeforger, captain. The first one."

"I see."

I look into the wine. It's human stuff, from purple grapes, and is five gold pieces a bottle. It's the same color as blood.

"He may not be dead, apparently."

Lekudr's white eyebrows shoot up. "No?" he whispers.

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"No. He may be alive. Imprisoned."

"I see." Lekudr lowers his voice further, though the guards are all at the far ends of the hall. "In the sphere?"

My captains all know something of how my powers work, though they have sworn to tell no one else.

"That was my guess," I say. "But if so, and it was destroyed, like my vision showed, then why does it still channel the power through me?"

"Maybe the one you found yourself in, during your first vision, and the one you see in your current trances, are different."

"No." I shake my head. "I've considered this before. They're the same. Sometimes, when things get especially tense, I can almost feel the shadows in there."

"You have also talked about the whole thing being an illusion, in the past."

"Yes, sometimes. But again—it feels too real. I am down there, I think. I think."

Lekudr sips his own wine. It stains his white mustaches a little, and he wipes it off with a silk napkin.

"You're worried that the Runeforger is out loose, somewhere. That's what this comes down to."

I nod. "Yes. In some form."

"Inside you?"

"It's possible. His powers are in me, for sure. Why not the rest of him. Or—what if I am him? That cruel conqueror."

"We don't know that he was cruel. The sorcerers hated him, yes. But maybe he'd had good reason to destroy them." He grimaces. "I can think of a few reasons."

"Maybe. But what sort of a dwarf has a statue of him built standing atop a mound of skulls?"

"The description you gave was fairly brutal, yes. But doesn't intimidation have its purposes? Didn't you ride a carriage into Runethane Ytith's realm decorated with troll heads?"

"They were trolls. Some of the skulls under the Runeforger's boots were dwarf."

Lekudr nods, and is just opening his mouth to say something more, when there comes a heavy and rapid knocking on the far door. It echoes through the long stone hall. I stand up and grab Steelpierce. The guards step back and angle their own weapons.

"Who dare disturb the Runethane?" one barks.

"I am a messenger," comes a voice from behind the door. "I have come with a letter for the Runethane."

"Then you should have handed it to one of the outer guards."

"It is for his eyes alone. I have been instructed strictly, honored runeknight."

"Let him through!" I order, striding down past the marble tables and benches, chandelier-light playing over my armor. "If he's an assassin, Captain Lekudr and I can deal with him easily enough."

"Very well," the guard says reluctantly.

The doors are swung open. A mid-level runeknight in gilded steel, wearing a sword of purple metal at his belt—the scabbard is Allabrast style—steps through. He goes to one knee and holds out a thin scroll toward me. Dots of light from the chandeliers reflect off its gilt backing.

"The message is from the Runeking himself," announces the runeknight. "And see the Eye on it, my Runethane." I look closely, and see that embedded into the wax keeping the scroll curled, is a tiny sphere with a black dot at its center. "Only you may read it. If another's eyes look upon the words, it will burn."

I take it from him, frowning, then walk back a dozen paces and sit down on one of the marble benches. Two of the guards make to follow me, but I gesture for them to stay where they are.

"Only the Runeking could make a gem like this," I say. "I don't think this is any kind of assassination attempt."

Even so, I uncurl the scroll cautiously. The masons have power over stone—could they not grow a crystal like this, too? Even if only imitation? I position the Eye so it is looking up at me. It seems to fix its gaze on my face.

I read:

Greetings, Runethane Zathar

You are ordered to attend a meeting of strategy in the Hall of the Golden Heart. You will be seated in an assigned position. All your fellow Runethanes will be there. You will not bring any guards.

After that meeting concludes, Runeforger, you and I will have a personal meeting in Allabrast Civil Prison. Be assured that you are not accused of any crime. There is a lady runeknight of interest you will speak to there.

Do not tell anyone of the second part of this message.

Regards,

Runeking Ulrike

The moment my eyes pass over the last line, the miniature Eye glows bright orange. A ball of flame flashes around it. I leap up and back away, my boot catching on the marble bench, which breaks apart with a bang. The tablecloth goes up in flames, and nothing is left of the letter.

"On the ground!" a guard yells at the messenger.

He obeys, kneeling down and bowing his head. They aim their weapons at him.

"Calm yourselves," I order. "The flames were not meant to harm me. It was a measure for secrecy, nothing more." I pick up the miniature Eye, which is, surprisingly, unharmed. "Take this back to the Runeking," I tell the messenger. "Are you of his guild?"

He looks up and shakes his head. "Not his personal one. We just guard the outskirts of the palace."

"I see." I turn to Lekudr, who has been watching all this with interest. "Captain, I am to attend a meeting. It seems that the Runeking has lost patience with those refusing to answer the call, and has decided to begin things without them."

"I will make sure that this is conveyed to everyone."

"Please do. You are in charge until I return. I don't know when that will be. Have security intensified. With the most powerful dwarves all gathered together, the city is made vulnerable."

"Yes, guildmaster."

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