But Furgas was still staring anxiously at the spot where Narmora had fallen.
"For the love of Vraccas, wake up!" Balyndis scolded him. She fought her way through the fray and thrust herself between the bцgnilim and the impresario.
All of a sudden Narmora appeared out of nowhere, looming up behind the famulus's bodyguards and hewing the first orc's head with a mighty blow. She dispatched the other beasts before they had time to respond.
"Very impressive," the famulus said furiously, pointing his staff in her direction, "but not as effective as this."
A thick bolt of light shot toward Narmora, who darted nimbly aside. The bolt latched on to her movement.
Just as it seemed certain that Narmora would be hit, the bolt struck an invisible obstacle and dissipated harmlessly. It was instantly followed by a powerful flash of lightning that arced toward the famulus from the direction of the statue. There was a terrible crackle as it seared through his flesh, the flames subsiding only when nothing remained but a pile of reeking cinders. The next moment, the golem collapsed. Huge chunks of rock rained down on the enemy troops, squashing dozens of bцgnilim and flattening three of the ogres who were too ponderous to escape.
The two remaining ogres stopped in their tracks and stared fearfully at the triumphant maga before retreating into the adjoining hall and vanishing from sight.
Narmora gave Andфkai a wave and the maga returned the greeting, then drew her sword in a single fluid movement. It was the only defense she had left.
"Excellent, excellent, so Narmora's still alive. Unless there's another lead actor you'd rather work with, you might want to lend me a hand," the impresario said to Furgas. "At this rate, the fabulous Rodario will die a heroic death."
Andфkai abandoned the statue and stormed down the staircase, her blade wreaking havoc among the enemy troops.
"She always ruins everything," Boпndil said testily. "I was looking forward to those ogres." He threw himself with added fury on the fleeing bцgnilim. "At least I can have some fun with you."
Disregarding Tungdil's warnings, Boпndil chased after his victims, slicing into their necks from behind and shooing them along as if he were herding pigs. On reaching the doorway to the adjacent hall, he came to a sudden halt.
"What's wrong? Don't tell me your brain's caught up with you," Goпmgar said spitefully, hurrying with the others to join him. They stopped and froze as well.
"I say we leave this scene out of the play," Rodario whispered hoarsely. "I have a feeling we won't enjoy it."
The hall was at least three thousand paces long and two thousand paces wide. It was obvious what purpose the chamber had once served, for among the disused blast furnaces, ramps, and rope pulleys lay abandoned slag heaps and scattered mounds of pig iron and coal.
Now a thousand orcs, bцgnilim, and trolls occupied the fifthlings' smelting works, sealing the entry to the Dragon Fire furnace.
The defeated ogres and bцgnilim had already reached the foremost line of beasts and were hastily relaying what had happened in the adjoining hall. An angry murmur swept through the chamber as the beasts drew their weapons, growling in readiness for the fight.
"It's…" Boпndil was lost for words. He lowered his axes in an admission of defeat. The vast army was more than just another of the big challenges that he was so fond of. Even he could see that the odds were stacked overwhelmingly against the plucky band.
"Do you think you could fly to the other side and take us with you like you did for Goпmgar?" Tungdil whispered to the maga.
"The battle with the golem and his master drained my last reserves of magic. There's nothing left." Andфkai's eyes scanned the crowds bitterly. "Had I known what awaited us, I would have held back, but even then…"
"Let's go home," Goпmgar implored them. He turned to Gandogar. "Your Majesty-"
He stopped short, silenced by a look from Tungdil. "We can't go home now," he said. "We'll get to the furnace or die trying." He squared his shoulders stubbornly. "We're Girdlegard's last line of resistance. No one else is going to make it past this hall."
"Then it's decided." To Goпmgar's horror, Gandogar gave his assent. "We'll stay and fight together." He raised his double-bladed ax.
"We're dwarves!" thundered Ireheart, who had finally found his voice. Tucking in his head, he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "We never give in," he bellowed at the beasts, beating his axes together until the smelting works echoed with the noise. "Do you hear that, you worthless scoundrels? It's the sound of your deaths!"
Tungdil offered a silent prayer to Vraccas. "There's nothing for it but to fight our way through." He looked into the faces of his companions. "There's a good chance that not all of us will make it. What matters is that the right ones survive." He glanced at Balyndis. "I'm expendable. I'll gladly give my life if it means Girdlegard and its peoples have a future."
Furgas's eyes filled with tears as he kissed Narmora passionately: She was among those who had to survive at all costs. She stroked his cheek tenderly.
"One to a hundred," was Boпndil's assessment of their respective numbers. "It could be worse." This time he blew the bugle, sounding the ancient dwarven call to war. It was answered by hostile shouts. Boпndil glanced at his companions. "Race you to the other side."
After five hundred paces, they had fought themselves into an impasse, unable to advance or retreat.
Surrounded on all sides by the foulest of creatures, the company stood shoulder to shoulder and faced the prospect of fighting until their arms were too heavy to deflect the deadly blows.
Worse still, they had lost Rodario in the first ten paces. He had been swallowed among the mass of orcish bodies and by the time Tungdil noticed his absence, the impresario was nowhere to be seen.
With Rodario, they lost the dragon fire with which the furnace was to be lit.
We're so close now, Vraccas. "We need to go back," he shouted over his shoulder. "We've lost Rodario and the only torch."
Andфkai was about to reply when roaring flames shot toward the ceiling.
"Get back," a voice rasped imperiously from the door. "Let me deal with them."
The noise stopped instantly. In a flash, a path opened through the rabble, the beasts drawing away to let their master pass. A corpulent figure in malachite robes strode toward them, extinguishing the last spark of hope that Tungdil had been kindling with dwarven obstinacy.
"Nфd'onn." An awed whisper swept through the ranks of beasts, who were staring at the magus in fascination, some bowing or falling to their knees.
"I thought I would find the villains here," he rasped, his voice giving way to a cough. A bright red globule of saliva spattered onto the face of a bцgnil whose tongue shot out hungrily and licked it away. "I sent my servants here to ambush you. I wanted to have the pleasure of destroying you myself."
An orc leaped forward, whipping out his sword. "Let me do it for you, Master," he said slavishly.
"Silence, ingrate!" The magus stretched a hand. There was a flash of light and flames shot out of his fingers, setting the orc ablaze. The beast staggered backward, stumbling in agony until at last he lay still. "Out of my way," commanded Nфd'onn. "If you crowd me, I can't destroy them without destroying you." His pale face was almost entirely obscured by a cowl, with only a chink of white skin visible through the folds of cloth.
"I'll do what I can," Andфkai whispered to Tungdil. "The rest of you run." She pushed her fair hair back from her severe visage, seized her sword, and prepared to strike. All of a sudden she stopped.
Tungdil sensed her hesitation. "What's wrong?"
She seemed puzzled. "I can't see his staff. Nфd'onn would never be parted with it, no more than I would go anywhere without my sword. It must be an illusion."
"Ye gods! It's Rodario!" hissed Furgas, trying not to blow his friend's cover by looking too relieved.