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  “If it is your wish, Empress,” Nitadis said softly, “now is the time.”

  “Yes. Yes it is, General, and I hope the gods will forgive me for what I do.”

  “What you do is blameless,” Nitadis said. “What they do dooms them to a hellish afterlife.”

  Savina turned to face the others. “I cannot thank you too much for the bravery, the courage, and the loyalty you show me today. My father would be justly proud to lead you if he were here. He gave his life—His life was taken from him, for the cause you and I fight for today.” She paused a moment and gave them her very best imperial smile. “We will prevail. Believe that. We will prevail.”

  “We will prevail!” shouted the men around her. “We will prevail for you, Empress!”

  “No, not for me. For the people of Izmer.”

  With a silent prayer, she raised the golden scepter, held it steadily for an instant, then swept it in a fearsome arc across the sky. Once, twice…

  “May the gods forgive me,” she said as she raised the scepter once more, a slash of gold against the faded crimson sun.

  In that instant, thunder rolled across the heavens, thunder so mighty, so deep that it shook the very earth, trembling great palaces and shabby huts alike, tumbling stones from the city’s high walls, shivering upon the rivers and the sea.

  Brave men fell in fright and died. Horses, wide-eyed and crazed, ran until their hearts ceased to beat. The darkness that had smothered the sun now swallowed the sky itself. The Empress, her leaders, and the mages who had sold their very souls to bring the kingdom down watched in awe and sudden fear as the darkness loosed its horrors, and the dread and mighty creatures of an ancient world appeared….

  CHAPTER

  31

  Ridley stood beneath a high pinnacle of stone, the weathered spine of some mountain that had died when the world was very young. The map in his hand showed just such a rare formation, a bleak and arid scene with an “X” fifty paces to the east.

  Ridley frowned and stabbed a finger at the mark.

  “An X is important. You never see an X on a map unless it’s the spot where you’re supposed to be.”

  “Well, this X is different,” Elwood grumbled. “This one doesn’t mean anything at all.”

  “It has to. That’s what it’s for.”

  “I have to agree with Ridley,” Marina said. “Just because we don’t see anything, doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  Elwood leaned on the haft of his axe. “Spoken like a true mage. I’d be grateful if you kept such observations to yourself. Stuff that doesn’t make any sense makes a dwarf dizzy in the head.”

  Ridley made a face. “What do you have to do to keep one from blabbing for a while?”

  “I heard that, boy, and I take offense. We might have to settle our differences right here.”

  “We might not, too,” Marina put in. “Ridley, put your back to that pinnacle again. I’m sure fifty paces is right. Angle to the left a little this time. The map is so incredibly old, east may not have been east at the time.”

  “Now that’s old,” Ridley said, shuddering at the thought. Everything else might change, but directions were supposed to stay put. A person ought to be able to count on that.

  “You don’t walk natural-like,” the dwarf said. “You take big steps when you’re walkin’ off a map.”

  “I’m walking just fine,” Ridley said, backing off and starting over again. “Don’t talk until I’m through, all right? If you were doing this, we wouldn’t be doing fifty steps. More likely, a hundred or so.”

  “Damnation, that tears it!” Elwood said, hefting his axe in one hand and pulling at his beard with the other.

  “Stop it, both of you.” Marina looked for help from some phantom in the sky. “Why me? What did I do to deserve the two of you?”

  “…forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty,” Ridley finished. He looked down at his feet. “I don’t see a thing any different over here.”

  “It’s not supposed to look different,” Marina pointed out. “If someone wanted it to be real easy, they’d have painted a sign.”

  “Absolutely,” Elwood muttered. “My thoughts as well.”

  “We can do without your thoughts just fine.” Ridley turned to Marina. “Now what? If there’s an X here, it’s made for ants to see.”

  “Do I have to do everything? Honestly, Rid…”

  Gently pushing him aside, Marina went to her hands and knees and began to brush aside the dry soil. Ridley glanced at Elwood and shrugged.

  “Your sword,” Marina said, without looking up.

  “What for?”

  “Just do it, all right?”

  Ridley drew his blade and handed her the hilt. Marina grasped the weapon and began to dig.

  Ridley gasped. “That’s a weapon, not a shovel! Stop that!”

  “You’re right. It’s a terrible shovel, but it’s all we’ve got. There has to be something here. If there wasn’t—Hah!” Marina looked up and grinned. “Come on, don’t just stand there. Give me a hand.”

  Ridley and Elwood bent to the task, widening the small hole Marina had uncovered in the soil. At first, Ridley could see nothing at all, only that Marina had struck rock half a foot down. No big surprise there. That’s where rocks are from, down in the ground. This rock though, he had to admit, was unusually smooth and perfectly parallel to the surface itself.

  He gave Marina a curious look. Marina, apparently, had the very same thought. She picked up Ridley’s sword and tapped the hilt against the stone.

  Ridley drew a breath. “Hollow. By the gods, we’ve found it.”

  “I’ve found it,” Marina said. “Let’s try and remember that.”

  “Fine, I will. Elwood, don’t just stand there and gawk. Give me a hand with this.”

  The moment the dirt was wiped away, it was clear the stone had been carved by intelligent hands. Elwood peered at the ancient runes etched on the surface. He rolled his eyes and said he hoped they weren’t turned into snakes or something worse than that.

  The stone came away with surprising ease, and the air that wafted up from below was dry and musty, as if no moisture had penetrated the earth since time itself began. There was another scent as well, one that Ridley found disturbing and vaguely familiar. Elwood smelled it too, and he wrinkled his nose. His glance told Ridley he didn’t like it either, but, for once, he kept his opinions to himself.

  The drop from the surface was less than five feet. The only light came from the entry itself, and the way ahead was black as a demon’s heart.

  “Let me go first,” Elwood said. “No one knows more about caverns and the like than a warrior of the Oakenshield clan. I was born in a burrow, and—Ulp!”

  Whatever it was, it struck Elwood hard and knocked him flat. Ridley helped him up. Elwood shook him off, groaned, and rubbed his nose.

  “Whoever you are, you’ve made the worst mistake of your life in striking Elwood Gutworthy.”

  The dwarf hefted his axe, and attacked the darkness again.

  “No! Wait!” Marina stepped in his path. “There’s no one there. It’s a power of some kind.”

  Elwood gave her a wary look. “Magic? That’s what you’re sayin’ it is?”

  “Stand back over there. You too, Ridley.”

  “And do what?”

  “Something that’s very difficult for you both. Don’t do anything at all.”

  Marina drew in a breath, and then she pointed her left hand into the dark.

  “Amaka lavat… imisha… santir… What magic is hidden here, now reason reveal it… make it clear!”

  The green gemstone at her wrist began to glow, slowly at first, then quickening into a pulsing light that made Ridley look away. When he glanced back again, the gemstone’s power had formed a shimmering circle, a narrow entryway.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s a wall of force of some kind,” Marina replied. “I’ve never encountered this sort of magic before. There’s a way through, as y
ou can see, but I can’t get past it.”

  “You can’t? How do you know?”

  “I just know, all right? The force I’m up against has made that clear.” She paused and closed her eyes. “I think we’ve been through this before. Only the seeker can go from here.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Ridley finished. “This is that wraith’s doing, isn’t it? I’m the one that’s got the Dragon’s Eye.”

  “Lucky you,” Elwood said.

  “Both of you, wait right here. I’ll be right back,” Ridley said. “I think.”

  “Be careful, Rid. Please?”

  Ridley held her glance for a long moment. He liked very much what he saw there. It almost made him feel it would all work out, that in the end, everything would be fine.

  Almost.

  * * *

  The mouth of the tunnel was dry, dark, and deadly silent. A few steps in, however, water seeped from the ceiling and the narrow stone walls. The damp, rocky surface glowed with a faint luminescence—tiny creatures, Ridley guessed, or minerals in the stone. Whatever the source might be, it was not enough to light the way.

  As far as he could tell, the path was straight as an arrow. In spite of the constant drip of cold water, the unpleasant scent was still strong—like an old and empty house, full of mold, dead spiders, and mice in the walls….

  Ridley stopped. For the first time, the tunnel curved abruptly to the right. Peering cautiously around the curve, he saw that the tunnel continued straight ahead, as it had before.

  He took a breath, walked past the curve—

  —and into a solid wall.

  Not a wall at all, he saw at once—only another illusion, one that seemed perfectly real until you came up against it and flattened your nose.

  “I’m glad you’re not here, Elwood,” he said. “I don’t need you crowing over this.”

  Now what? He knew there was something else, some other way. The map wouldn’t lead him this far and then suddenly end.

  “All right, I’m here,” he said aloud. “Any wraiths listening? Anything here at all?”

  Ridley’s answer came at once. The ground beneath his feet disappeared. One moment he was standing on solid rock, the next he was falling through darkness, tumbling down a steep and odorous slope with nothing to stop him, nothing to break his fall.

  Even flailing helplessly about, Ridley suddenly knew exactly what he smelled. Something was dead. Something had been dead a very, very long time.

  CHAPTER

  32

  The warrior in the blood-red uniform and armor black as night stopped at a respectable distance from his master. He did not dare speak, not until the great mage deigned to notice he was there. The warrior feared his master, as every soldier did.

  Still, Algamar was proud to be a member of the Crimson Brigade. For, as he feared his master, so did warriors of lesser degree fear him. It was said, and rightly so, that murder, torture, and the vilest of cruelties was common practice among the members of the Brigade, that the most unspeakable of crimes were only granted to those in favor with the master himself.

  Algamar, the warrior who waited now, prayed that the mage would choose him for special duty one day. To that end, he had taken extra care. He had brushed his uniform, cleaned and shined his boots. He had polished his armor until he could see his reflection in its dull iron surface.

  That reflection, he noted with pride, showed a man who had already risen to privileged rank within the Crimson Brigade. All of the mage’s men wore helmets in the images of the most ferocious of beasts. Algamar had fought through the ranks of Savage Lion, Striking Serpent, and Black Wolverine, and now he wore the coveted helmet of Fearsome Boar.

  This image was truly frightful with its ugly snout, sharpened tusks, and even an array of long bristles incised into the iron.

  It was also heavy, heavy and hot. Sweat rolled down his features inside the metal mask to sting his eyes, rolled past his neck and into the hollow of his chest. Still, he waited, held himself rigid and moved not an inch until the hooded figure turned and saw him there.

  “What is it? What have you to say?”

  Algamar hoped he hadn’t betrayed himself through any slight movement or gesture. The great Lord Damodar was a man to be feared at any time. Now though, since that writhing horror had come to live in his head, it was all a man could do to look him in the eye. If he did not, if he once looked away…

  “Lord Damodar, they have found the entry. All three of them have descended into the earth. As you have ordered, sire, they are under careful watch, but no one has approached them.”

  “You will make certain they do not.”

  “Sire.”

  “And you. You are… ?”

  It was all Algamar could do to keep from looking away. Damodar’s eyes seemed to bore a hole through his skull.

  “Algamar, Lord, of the Fearsome Boars Second.”

  “I can see what you are, fool, and I can see that like the swine you mimic, you have slept in a sty. Your uniform is filthy, and your armor smells of dung. Get out of my sight, and do not ever dare to enter my presence in this manner again!”

  Somehow, Algamar stood his ground under Damodar’s rage. He backed slowly out of the mages tent, and when he was far enough away, he leaned over in the brush and retched.

  * * *

  Damodar followed the trooper with his eyes until the man disappeared. “A worthy fellow,” he muttered to himself. “He does well.”

  An instant later, the man was forgotten. Damodar looked through the trees at the barren, rocky scene below. He was pleased with the trooper’s news. It was all coming together now, coming together exactly as he had planned.

  Following the trail of his prey from the encounter at the thieves’ den, he had exercised great caution and a mage’s power of stealth. The three companions and the interfering elf had led him to the outskirts of the fabled Tree of Life itself. There, he had waited, alone, not daring to bring soldiers of the Brigade any closer.

  It had worked, worked in every detail. No one, he knew, could have accomplished what he had done, coming so close to elves without revealing his presence.

  Dogging their heels from there was a relatively simple matter. The thief, the dwarf, and the woman, Marina Pretensa, had faithfully followed their map and led him exactly where he wanted to be.

  Damodar let a smile twist his hideous features.

  “Stay on your quest, little thief,” he whispered, “and bring the prize to me. I’ll grant you a short but oh so painful death if you succeed.”

  CHAPTER

  33

  Ridley thought his frightening ride down the dark slope would never end. When it did, he scarcely had time to tuck his head between his knees. He hit hard against yet another stone wall—this one no illusion, this one very real.

  Picking himself up, he found that this small stone chamber was somewhat better lit. A myriad of tiny creatures swarmed along the walls, emitting an amber-hued glow.

  Once his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he saw the massive and deeply-carved stone emblem on the far wall. Ridley caught his breath, for the emblem looked remarkably like the ruby Dragon’s Eye he carried in the pocket of his vest. Drawing the gem out, he walked to the wall and placed the jewel directly over the emblem.

  Whatever he expected to happen, didn’t. The gem and the emblem were a perfect match. Other than that…

  He backed away and stared at the wall. What was it the wraith had said? He tried to recall the words.

  Only through the Dragon’s Eye can one see where the rod does lie….

  “I hate riddles,” Ridley muttered. “Why can’t someone give you a simple answer sometime?”

  He held the ruby to his eye and peered at the emblem on the wall. For an instant, he was too startled to move. There were two double doors there that hadn’t been visible before. On each door was an exquisitely-carved dragon. And only one of them had an eye.

  “Well, even an unschooled thief can figure this one out,”
Ridley said. He stepped up and placed the ruby in the left-hand dragon’s empty socket. The ruby began to glow, and the doors slowly opened….

  Ridley stood rigid. His heart nearly stopped. The room beyond was filled, heaped, virtually drowning in treasure: Silver goblets and golden plates, scepters, crowns, bracelets, necklaces and rings, all made of precious metal, each encrusted with diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and milky pearls. Strewn carelessly about the room were great chests spilling over with gems of every sort. There were bags piled high as Ridley’s head. Several had split from age and loosed a river of golden coins.

  Ridley laughed aloud, pulled a pouch from his belt, and bent to fill it with gems and shiny coins. He paused, then, and stood straight, recalling what the wraith had also said.

  Do not be lured by the dragons treasure, for in it lies great sorrow, not pleasure.

  “Now why did I have to think of that?” Ridley was greatly irritated with himself. A good memory was helpful sometimes, and sometimes it was not.

  Still, he thought, the words might not even be true. Wraiths didn’t know everything, did they? If they did, they’d surely appear as something more substantial. They wouldn’t go around looking like fog all the time, now would they?

  If he just took a handful, no more than that, who’d ever know? Who’d miss a whole ton of treasure from a pile like this? Who’d even care if he—

  “Yaaah, get away—from—me!”

  Ridley backed away, flailing at the horror that dangled before his face. He stumbled and nearly fell into a chest of jeweled crowns. Now he knew what smelled bad in the cavern. The thing hanging there was a long-dead corpse.