The crack of a shattering stone sounded from somewhere below, reminding Rikus that dwelling on his past with Neeva would do him no more good than wishing the Scourge’s blade had not been snapped. The mul looked down and saw that they had come out much higher than he had hoped, as he could tell by the sight of a tangled nest of giant braids far below.
Rikus squinted, trying to see what was happening more clearly. The moonlight reflecting off the gorge’s walls washed out his dwarven vision, so even after careful study, he could distinguish little more than a hulking pair of shoulders filling the canyon from wall to wall. Nevertheless, it appeared that Sult and the Granite Company were giving the giant a good fight. Patch’s head was tilted forward to look at the ground, and he seemed oblivious to anything but stomping and cursing the dwarves at his feet.
“Rikus, didn’t you see that?” Neeva asked, a note of urgency in her voice.
“What?” the mul asked. He scoured the gorge’s shadows for something he had missed.
“Up there,” Neeva corrected.
She pointed into the sky, where a crimson sphere hung just above the opposite rim of the gorge. The ball was flickering and sputtering, like a torch that had burned all its oil, and was so faint it barely stood out from the night.
“What’s that?” Rikus asked.
“Rkard’s sun-spell.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “He’s in trouble.”
“It’s about to go out,” Rikus observed. “How long does it last?”
“A quarter hour,” Neeva replied. She looked at Rikus then asked, “Do you think there’s any chance Sadira’s awake yet?”
“If she were awake, there would be no need for Rkard to cast his spell,” the mul replied.
Neeva started to back down the tunnel. “We’ve got to help him!”
Rikus grabbed her shoulder. “It’ll take too long to return,” he said. “But I know a faster way.”
Neeva allowed herself to be pulled up the passage. “How?”
Rikus took the rope off her shoulder. He began tying it around himself, looping it first between his legs, then around his hips, over his shoulders, and beneath his arms so it would spread the impact of a long fall over the strongest points of his body.
“Leave about ten arms of rope between us,” Rikus said, finishing his harness off with a secure knot. “Fasten yourself into the other end of the line like I have. Then come up here next to me.”
By the time they finished, Caelum was crawling up the tunnel toward them. “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyeing the rope strung between his wife and Rikus.
“Your son’s in trouble,” the mul answered.
Rikus checked Neeva’s harness then twisted himself around so that he sat at the mouth of the tunnel, his legs dangling over the edge. Neeva passed him his battle-axe and sat next to him, cradling her own weapon in her arms.
“Wait!” Caelum cried. “That rope isn’t tied off. You’ll fall-”
“Not now, husband,” Neeva snapped. Without looking back at the dwarf, she peered down at Patch’s shoulder, which was just a little bit ahead of their perch. “I know what to do.”
“Just like old times,” Rikus answered, smiling. “Go!”
Gripping his axe with both hands, he slipped out of the tunnel. He pushed off the gorge wall with his legs, driving himself to the side so that he would fall in front of Patch’s body. In the same instant, Neeva also slipped from her perch, though she launched herself straight ahead so she would come down behind the giant. The rope stretched out between her and Rikus, keeping them connected as they plummeted into the shadows.
Rikus heard Caelum cry out, then the roar of the wind filled his ears and drowned out the dwarf. The mul felt his own voice vibrating inside his skull and knew he was screaming, but he simply ignored the panicked part of his mind and focused his thoughts on one simple task: clutching his battle-axe.
Rikus plunged past a tangle of hair braids, and Neeva passed out of sight behind Patch’s massive collarbone. The mul hit feet-first, then glanced off the giant’s breast and bounced away. The rope caught him an instant later, his makeshift harness biting deep beneath his legs and arms as the cord stretched with the force of the fall. It squeezed tight around his ribs, filling his chest with a terrible ache and driving the air from his lungs in an involuntary groan. He heard a similar grunt from Neeva’s side of the shoulder, then felt himself arcing back toward the titan’s chest. As painful as the stop was, Rikus knew that it would have been much worse-possibly even snapping his back or breaking his ribs-had he not taken the time to tie himself into the line as he had.
Patch roared in surprise and wrenched around to see what had fallen on him. The motion sent Rikus swinging toward the gorge wall, and the rope skipped as his weight hit the end. Fearing the line would slip off the huge shoulder, he swung his axe as hard as he could. The steel head drove deep into the titan’s breast, instantly stopping the mul’s flight and drawing a pained howl from the giant.
Releasing his weapon, Rikus grabbed a fold of the giant’s smelly sheepskin tunic and pulled himself forward. Patch’s hand slapped down behind him. The back edge of the double-bladed axe sank deep into the titan’s palm, and the giant bellowed in anger. While the titan plucked the battle-axe from his palm, the mul climbed for the opposite shoulder. He saw Patch raise a hand to claw at him, then the giant abruptly stopped as a flurry of dull thumps sounded at his feet.
“Stomp the Granite Company, will you!” cried a dwarf’s angry voice. “We’ll chop you off at the ankles, you lout!”
Patch hopped from one foot to the other. Each time he changed legs, a dwarf cried out in pain, and the sound of folding steel echoed up from the dark gorge. Determined to make the most of the diversion, Rikus continued his climb and soon pulled himself over the giant’s shoulder. He met Neeva coming from the other side. Like Rikus, she remained harnessed into the rope.
“Everything okay?” Rikus asked.
“It will be, when we choke this giant,” Neeva replied.
The warrior scrambled away, crossing in front of the titan’s throat. The mul jumped over the back of the shoulder. Patch did not attempt to stop them, his attention fixed on the dwarven axes hacking at his ankles. Rikus waited until he saw Neeva appear behind the giant’s other shoulder, then braced his feet and pulled. She did the same. The rope, now looped around the huge throat like a garotte, tightened.
Patch forgot the dwarves and tried to pull the rope away. His efforts were to no avail. Rikus and Neeva had pulled the cord so tight that it bit deep into his flesh, and the titan could not slip his fingers beneath the taut line. A deep gurgle rumbled from the brute’s throat.
Patch stumbled around, turning his back toward the cliff. Anticipating the giant’s next move, Rikus called, “Cross and
over!”
Still pulling on the rope, the mul shuffled across Patch’s spine. Neeva did the same, and they crossed. The giant leaned back toward the cliff. They threw themselves over his collarbone and narrowly avoided being crushed as he slammed into the rock wall.
Patch kept his back against the cliff, his rasping chokes echoing down the canyon. He raised one hand toward each of his tormenters.
Rikus could not see what Neeva was doing, but the mul tried to draw his dagger. He found the hilt tied into place beneath his harness. The giant’s fingers encircled his body. Rikus grabbed the rope with both hands and pulled, kicking at the enormous hand with both feet. He almost slipped free, then Patch caught his legs. The titan squeezed, filling Rikus’s knees and hips with agony.
The choking giant had already grown very weak, and the torment was not as bad as it might have been. None of Rikus’s thick mul bones cracked, and he did not even feel anything pop out of socket. Deciding he could bear the pain until Patch fell unconscious, the warrior braced himself against the titan’s thumb and index finger, concentrating his efforts on keeping himself from slipping deeper into the huge fist.