The actress was wearing her black leather armor and exuded a vague air of menace. For some reason Tungdil found himself thinking of Sinthoras.
He kept hold of his ax, his secret antipathy toward the woman growing all the time. Don't be ridiculous, he told himself. She's an ordinary woman. "What can I do for you?" he asked, trying to smile convincingly.
"Remember what Andфkai said about wielding the ax," she said hesitantly.
"Keenfire must be wielded by the undergroundlings' foe. Do you have a suggestion?" he said, perking up.
"What about the дlfar?" she said cautiously. "The дlfar are your enemies, right?"
"Real дlfar are our enemies," he corrected her. "Actresses won't do, but it's kind of you all the same."
She pulled off her head scarf, revealing two pointed ears.
Tungdil took a step backward and tightened his grip on the ax. Long moments of horrified silence passed. "But that's not… I mean, y-you can't be an дlf…" he stuttered. Then he laughed out loud in relief. "You almost had me going there, but I know your eyes don't look black in the light!"
Narmora stretched a hand toward the lamp, turned her palm to the ceiling, and muttered unintelligible words. The flame dwindled until there was nothing but a smoldering wick.
She must know some trick. Alchemy or… He stared at the candle in amazement, then turned to Narmora and discovered she was gone. "Narmora?"
Suddenly she loomed behind him. "Half human, half дlf," a voice whispered in his ear. "I inherited my mother's gifts and her weapons. My father left me little of value, but his eyes are a boon." The next moment her menacing air was gone. She went over to the lamp and restored the flame by blowing on it gently. "I'm sorry I scared you. Do you believe me now?"
Tungdil composed himself. That explains why I've never really taken to her. "I certainly do," he said with a vigorous nod. "I think you've solved the dilemma as to who should wield Keenfire." He looked at Narmora with new respect. "It can't have been easy for you to tell me-but it's nothing compared to the challenge ahead."
"I can't see any other solution," she said simply, her savagery and malevolence suddenly gone. "It's not as though we could ask an orc or a real дlf." She stroked the hafts of her weapons. "I've never really fought with an ax. The magus won't have much to fear from Keenfire unless you drill me in axmanship first."
"We'll have to tell the others, you know."
Narmora considered. "Yes, I suppose so-although I don't know how they'll react." It was clear she was thinking primarily of Boпndil.
Tungdil smiled encouragingly. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise."
She smiled roguishly, and for a moment there was something дlflike about her after all.
On receiving Tungdil's summons, the rest of the company hurried to his chamber, where he told them of the turn of events. "Which means we'll be able to defeat the magus after all," he finished, waiting anxiously for their reaction.
"Strictly speaking, I ought to kill her," Ireheart said slowly. He showed no sign of making good on the threat.
"Strictly speaking," Tungdil corrected him, "you ought to kill half of her, but which half would that be? Is the left side human and the right side дlf, or the other way round? What if it's top and bottom?" He sighed. "Seeing as she's agreed to save Girdlegard, I think Vraccas will let us spare her. There's no other way."
Furgas was hugging the half дlf and looked worried, which seemed natural to Tungdil, who realized what a risk Narmora was taking in pitting herself against such a formidable foe.
"Furgas and Rodario will stay here in the firstling stronghold until we-"
"She's not going without me," the prop master said flatly. "Besides, someone with my technical ability would be an asset."
"And you're bound to need a first-rate impresario," added Rodario. A moment later, it occurred to him that the company had no obvious use for his talents, so he settled for looking handsome and putting on a winning smile.
"He's right, you know," said Boпndil unexpectedly. "The enemy won't be able to concentrate with his incessant jawing."
The other dwarves smiled, save for Goпmgar, who seethed quietly in the corner until he finally erupted. "Gandogar is in the Gray Range already," he hissed. "He'll be the one to forge Keenfire, just wait and see! You'll never be made high king." He looked scornfully at Narmora. "I don't know what you're relying on her for. She's only half an дlf." He flounced to the door and stormed out.
"Fine," said Bavragor, breaking the strained silence. "Narmora can half kill Nфd'onn, and we'll do the rest." Whipping out a tankard that he had smuggled from the tavern, he took a long sip.
The tension dissolved and they laughed in relief.
The following morning Queen Xamtys and her entourage of chieftains and elders accompanied Tungdil and the others over the shimmering bridges and deep into the stronghold's passageways and galleries that reminded the secondlings of home.
Bavragor kept stopping to inspect the masonry, tapping on the walls, running his fingers over the stone, and stamping critically on the floor. "It's certainly not superior," he said with unusual diplomacy, "but it's still very good."
At length they came to a vast steel door inlaid with runes of glittering gold. The queen recited the formula and they entered a chamber whose every detail Tungdil recognized from its counterpart in Ogre's Death. At the center of the room were eight rails, and around them a jumble of vats, pulleys, and gears. The engineers soon got the machinery going, and the air filled with hissing, steaming, and rattling, not to mention a smell of hot metal and grease.
"You've taken good care of the equipment," observed Furgas. "No rust, no dust. You could have been out of here in minutes, whenever you decided to go."
"I should have done this cycles ago," Xamtys said regretfully. She gave instructions for two convoys to be made ready for departure-the first for her own delegation, and the other for Tungdil and his friends.
Djerun had made a full recovery and was allocated a carriage of his own. The firstlings had repaired his armor over-night and it looked almost as good as new. Owing to his great height, they decided to remove the seats from the wagon so he could lie down on the floor. That way he wouldn't run the risk of beheading himself if the height of the tunnel changed.
The rest of the company were spread over two wagons: the five dwarves and the ingots in one, and Andфkai, the players, and the gems in the other.
She looks tired, thought Tungdil. He went up to the maga. "How are you feeling? You said yesterday that you nearing the end of your strength."
Andфkai tied her blond hair with a strip of leather to stop it from blowing in her eyes during the blustery ride. "Are you prepared for the truth?"
"You don't have to lie to me."
She sat down on the side of one of the wagons and watched the bustle. "My magic will soon be exhausted. Unless we pass through a force field, I won't be able to replenish my stores."
"Is that why wizards like to keep to their realms?"
Her eyes settled on Tungdil's bearded face. "Yes it's our secret weakness. As you've seen, we can still use our magic outside the enchanted realms, but we can't store it effectively. Straying from the force fields turns us into leaky pouches that lose their contents even when they're not in use. It takes only a powerful charm or two, and our energy is spent" She glanced at Djerun. "I don't like the idea of being defenseless when my magic runs out. That's why I learned to fight and why I always keep Djerun with me."
Tungdil thought for a moment. "Maybe we could see to it that Nфd'onn runs out of magic too."
She shook her head. "The spirit inside him has lent him extraordinary powers. I'm sure it won't work."
The dwarf caught sight of Narmora and remembered her trick with the lamp. "Narmora can use magic, can't she?"
"Not exactly. I don't know much about the дlfar, but they don't use real magic. It's more a case of innate abilities: the power to conjure up darkness, extinguish fire, influence dreams-small things that strike fear into human hearts and add to the дlfar's aura of power."