His left hand took hold of Sanda’s chin, forcing her head round so that she was staring her adversary directly in the disfigured face. She noticed a turquoise smoke diamond in the palm of the gauntlet. Horror was starkly obvious in her eyes but she was unable to make a sound.
The dwarf’s face moved, and folds developed around his eyes in semblance of a smile, although any real expression was impossible because of the mutilation. He tossed the length of chain down the shaft, then ran the back of his gauntleted hand through her hair, along her neck, across her breast, down to her waist. Then he stood up without letting go of her chin, pulling her upright.
Sanda could do nothing to defend herself. The very sight of him, the smell of stale sweat and festering wounds and the slight pulsating throbbing that went through her from his touch, all left her unable to move. His magic power, she registered subconsciously, was greater than anything she had ever felt before. Not even the artifact could outdo this.
The dwarf made a moaning sound, then looked down the shaft and stretched out his free hand. He released a rust-brown beam from the smoke diamond completely destroying what was left of the lift. The metal melted in the magic onslaught, bending and oozing to the ground in molten droplets.
“No!” shouted Sanda, terrified for her brother.
The dwarf let go of her chin and hit her across the face so that she fell against the wall and slid to the ground. At the same time he raised the other arm without interrupting the ray of light. This blasted out great chunks of the shaft wall, until the entire edifice shook.
He grabbed Sanda by the nape of the neck and set her on her feet, pushing her along ahead of himself. As soon as she made any slight movement of defiance he gave her a shock that flooded every organ in her body with pain.
The famula sobbed as blood ran down from the cut on her head, dripping down to the floor. She did not know what the dwarf intended to do with her. Why didn’t he just kill her? Or did he… could he… surely not…?
When he pushed her into a side corridor and tugged at her robe, her worst fears proved true.
Goda had reached the south tower when the building shook under her feet-it was only a slight vibration and a human would not have noticed it at all, but dwarves are sensitive.
“I knew it!” She ran to the lift and found only an empty shaft. No matter how she turned the levers, nothing happened. When she looked over to the rollers round which the chains would normally be wound, there was only bare stone.
A dwarf came running up the stairs. “My lady, the lift has crashed!” he said, fighting for breath. “Both chains have broken.”
“Impossible! They can withstand a greater load than would ever fit in the cabin.” She took a jewel in her hand. “Call the guards. They must search the place floor by floor. “I’ll start down in the foundations.”
The soldier asked, “What are we searching for?”
“Intruders.”
“The gate is bolted and barred and no one…”
“Do what I say!” she snapped and flew down the stairs. It would take forever to get down to the basement like this.
To construct a fortress by simply building onto sand or earth would be criminally stupid, because its weight would make it subside, jeopardizing the whole edifice. For this reason Evildam’s foundations were made from huge blocks brought in by dwarf-muscle effort and complicated technology. The foundations were reinforced on the side nearest the Black Abyss in case of an incursion. Bottles of poison, acid and gas; false walls that would collapse; all this and more had been put in place to greet any subterranean invader. No one could undermine a dwarf-stronghold.
Despite falling down seven steps, Goda arrived at the bottom in one piece. She had not noticed the coating of blood on the floor. She stopped and listened attentively.
She heard someone whimpering. It was her daughter’s voice!
The maga slipped quietly through the corridor and the sounds grew louder, coming from one of the side passages.
She looked carefully round the corner and saw the opposing magus about to strip her daughter naked.
Goda pressed the diamond splinter in her hand so hard that she drew blood. She must not let her fear gain the upper hand. Too much was at stake. Vraccas, you hold in your hands your own fate and that of my daughter! She leaped round the corner and hurled a spell against the enemy dwarf.
He noticed too late to invoke a counter-spell. Instead, he threw Sanda into the corridor, pulled back his arms and offered his armored chest to the incoming beams of lava-red light.
The magic hit home and the dwarf’s armor glowed like fiery coals fanned by bellows. The vraccassium changed color to a flaming yellow, sucking the magic in, while the runes turned black as night.
“Kill him, Sanda!” yelled Goda. She had nothing but dust in her hand. She swiftly took out the next diamond splinter to add to her spell or to respond to an attack. But what she had just seen stole any last hope. She would never be able to overcome this dwarf with magic.
The glow vanished and Goda saw Sanda behind the enemy, ax raised. She thrust its blade down, hitting the dwarf in the tiny gap between the side of the neck and the edge of his helmet. But the blow was deflected by a protective layer of chain mail; the dwarf swayed slightly, making a frightful gurgling sound.
“Save Bandaal!” cried Sanda, “He’s at the bottom of the shaft…”
The dwarf hit out behind him and his gauntlet caught Sanda on the temple; she crumpled up.
Goda did not hesitate for a single eye-blink. Her daughter was not now in immediate danger and so she could risk using one of her strongest spells. It was the one she had originally employed to blast away the mountain above the Black Abyss, so it ought to suffice for this dwarf. It would have to!
She concentrated hard and sent out a lightning flash beam toward her adversary.
The dwarf hunched down and stretched out his arms as if appealing for clemency. But the energy streamed into the smoke diamond in his armored fist, turning it into a sparkling turquoise star. As the magic heated the metal there was a smell of burning flesh and the dwarf cried out in a voice more bloodcurdling than anything Goda had heard before in her whole life. But, determined to absorb the magic energy, he still did not lower his arm.
Yet again she felt a diamond splinter turn to useless powder between her fingers. The powerful beam failed. “I’m not letting you leave Evildam alive,” she threatened, reaching into her bag. But she found nothing-except a hole. “No!” When I fell on the stairs!
The enemy magus groaned; smoke issued from the joints of his gauntlet, but he had survived the magic blast. His powers of resistance were incredible!
Goda now had nothing to fall back on but her own innate magic. “I shall defeat you!” she growled, lifting her arms. “We don’t need a false Tungdil and we don’t need a Lot-Ionan to be rid…”
The dwarf laid his smoldering hand on Sanda’s breast, and fixed Goda with hate-filled eyes. He touched one of the runes on his breastplate with his left hand and a transparent dark-yellow sphere enveloped the two of them. Another blink of an eye later and they had disappeared, together with the magic ball!
“Vraccas, no!” Goda whispered in horror and ran to where the magus had just been standing. Her daughter’s blood, her ax, shreds of her tattered undergarments and some charred pieces of material-nothing else. “How did he do that?” She ran back into the passage, back to the main corridor, back to the shaft-nothing!
Footsteps rang out and a unit of dwarf-warriors charged up the steps. “My lady, what has happened?”
“Find my daughter,” she told them, stammering with anxiety; then she remembered what Sanda had said. “No! Go down to the basement and find my son, Bandaal, at the bottom of the shaft! Quick!” she screamed, distraught, and raced up the staircase. She tried the place where she had slipped on the steps, and picked up one of the lost splinters; she had no time to look for the others. If need be she would get some soldiers to do a thorough search later on.