"Everything is set," said Enric. "Just say the word, and I'll be on the next plane for the States."
"But what about your work?" I asked nervously.
He laughed. "I'm not the only veterinarian in Ireland. Besides, I haven't taken a holiday in ages - not in this reality, anyway. I'm due."
"Um." I chewed my lip, then a fingernail. I'd known this was coming; we'd talked about it for months in R2...but I was still fearful.
"Come on, love," Enric said gently. "Neither of us is perfect in R2, and neither of us will be perfect in R1. You know that doesn't matter to me. I love all of you - not just the half I've already met."
"I love you too," I sighed. "I'm just scared."
"Enough to keep me on the other side of the ocean, when we could be together in both realities? That's not the Fury I know."
"No, it isn't. And that's what scares me most."
"Listen, I'd have to be a very shallow man to be put off by-"
"Don't say it." A knot was building in my chest, but I willed it to loosen, then forged ahead. "Just book that flight before I lose my nerve."
Tolkien had prepared me for the size of a Dwarf stronghold, but not for its beauty or detail. Where I'd expected long, dark caverns and distant skylights, I found warm, crystalline halls that sparkled with the reflections of a thousand lanterns. Jeweled vines climbed columns of marble, crowned with grinning Dwarf heads. Delicate bridges spanned lakes of azure, gold dust shimmering in their depths.
We walked for nearly an hour, accumulating a buzzing crowd of gawkers along the way. I wasn't used to be the (second) tallest person in a crowd, but here, none of our hosts' heads rose higher than my sternum. I felt strangely exposed, and more than a little unwelcome. Though the Dwarves here were less surly than those at the gate, few of them actually looked friendly. Only a handful of children, downy-faced but unbearded, smiled at the sight of the humans in their midst. At first I smiled back and even waved at a few of them; then I noticed the disapproving looks of their mothers. Well, I'd have to assume they were mothers, wouldn't I? I glanced over at Enric, envying him his keen sense of smell. He'd know which of the Dwarves were male and which were female. The werewolf caught me looking at him and gave my hand a squeeze. His face was calm, but I could feel the tension in his fingers. He knew as well as I did that, supernatural or not, we were now entirely at our hosts' mercy. If they attacked us this deep inside unfamiliar territory, we had little chance for survival.
At last we reached the throne room, where a second crowd awaited our arrival. Again the huge closed doors, the grudging admittance. King Aglor sat at the rear of an amphitheater-shaped hall, peering down from a throne set high beneath a frieze of fierce Dwarf soldiers. His crown, mail shirt, and boots gleamed silver in the torchlight. His face was ancient, craggy as the mountain itself, his beard forked and braided and white as a snow-capped peak. Only his eyes moved as he tracked our progress down the steps of the rear wall.
Meli neither looked at or nor spoke to us. Her attention was fixed on the King as she led us to the foot of his dais. Murmuring spectators filled the seats behind us. When all was quiet, she bowed until her forehead almost touched the ground. Enric and I did our best to follow suit. "My liege," the Dwarf woman murmured.
"Meli," answered the King in a voice like a rockslide. He acknowledged her bow with a nod but seemed not to notice us at all. "As always, we rejoice in your safe return. But where is Urd?"
Formality in a King is usually a bad sign. I bit my lip and glanced sideways at Meli, who rose from her bow. Enric and I followed her lead a little more hesitantly.
"Dead, Your Majesty," said Meli. She looked him in the eye, but I hadn't heard her speak so softly since we'd met. "Killed by humans."
"Humans? Like the ones you've brought with you today, into the very depths of our stronghold?"
Well, I thought, this is going just about like I expected. Enric and I didn't dare look at one another, but from the corner of my eye, I saw his jaw clench.
Meli squared her shoulders. "They saved my life, Your Majesty," she said.
The throne room swelled instantly with murmurs. The King waited until all was quiet, the, very deliberately, he stroked his beard and nodded. "I supposed it must be something like that." Eyes fixed on Meli, he pretended not to notice my gasp. "Explain."
The Dwarf bowed again, then began her story. She spoke in short, clipped sentences, filling in only the most necessary details and omitting the rape entirely. When at last she was done, the King turned to Enric and me. My stomach did a slow roll. The intensity of that gaze was almost physical; it could bore through solid rock. And could it see the sparks in our eyes? , I wondered. They were invisible to humans, but I'd have believed anything about that ancient, dark gaze.
There was a long pause. "Kyriel, Enric," the King said at last, "you are to be commended." My stomach rotated back into place. "We have come to expect abuse rather than compassion from humans, yet you two would rather kill your own kind than see them hurt ours. Your valor is truly remarkable. I shall lead you to our storehouses, where you will select an appropriate payment for your services."
Relief loosened my tongue - a bit too much, perhaps. "Your Majesty," I blurted, then flushed as I realized I'd spoken out of turn. But Aglor's expression didn't change and there was nothing to do now but plow on. "Enric and I didn't rescue Meli for the money. We don't expect any reward."
For the first time, the King smiled. "Then you are friends indeed!" he exclaimed. "But never let it be said that the Dwarves are stingy with their wealth. Each of you will take a mithril shirt, at least."
"Mithril?!"
Mistaking my surprise for confusion, the King smiled. "A precious metal," he explained, gesturing to his own crown and armor. I'd thought the silver didn't look quite right, but wrote off the strange sheen to the effects of lantern light. At last I found the courage to turn to Enric, whose face stretched into a wide, loopy grin. He winked when he saw me.
Still admiring his own armor, the King hadn't noticed our reaction. "Truesilver is quite rare," he said. "Mornegald is one of only five known mines in the world, so it's little known among humans-" At last he looked up and paused. "But from the looks on your faces, I'd say you've heard of it already."
By this time, Enric and I were practically quivering with excitement. Only five mines in the whole world? Our chances of finding Gandalf had just improved dramatically.
Enric opened his mouth and turned to me. I nodded and grinned: go ahead, you do the honors. He bowed deeply before the King. "It's true, Your Majesty, we have heard of mithril -in books, written by a human who had some acquaintance with Dwarves." He drew a deep breath. "A wizard," he said, "named Gandalf."
Again the amphitheater swelled with murmurs. Aglor's face creased into a smile. "Gandalf?" he laughed. "I should have known he was behind this! He always said he'd write a story about us one day."
Skyrockets went off inside my brain. I found Enric's hand and squeezed it tight. Why had I come here to begin with? Who knew? Who cared? I could hear the stories already. Nothing short of an earthquake would have driven me from that Dwarf hold now, and Enric no doubt felt the same.
Neither we nor Meli gave a thought to the bodies we'd left at the crossroads. We should have.
"...And this is the very pillar," said Aglor, pointing to a spire nearly five stories tall. At base and tip, it was perhaps twenty feet in diameter; but I could have closed my hand around its narrow waist. Strands of stone fringed its flanks like beads on a flapper's dress. "It had broken into four large pieces," the King told us, "and the Dwarves were trapped just about here-" he marked the ground with his boot. "We could see the survivors, eight of them, in the midst of all that rubble. The rescue party dug as fast as they could - and not just to save victims. The aftershocks kept coming all the while, making the hall so unstable that the whole thing could have fallen in on us at any moment. Suddenly in rushed Thurn here-" he cocked his head toward one of our companions - "with a tall gray human on his tail. A human, in the midst of all the other mayhem! A few folks tried to stop them, but the man began swinging his staff like a scythe, and Thurn was cursing and shoving aside any Dwarves the wizard missed.
"They reached the pillar, and the hall grew quiet except for the cries of the trapped Dwarves. Then the wizard gave a shout, and a burst of blue flame shot from the tip of his staff into the rubble. Instantly the stones flew up into the air and hung there suspended.
"We ran to help our fallen companions, but at just that moment another aftershock rocked the hall. This was the worst we'd felt yet, almost as strong as the original earthquake. Stalactites were falling everywhere. If not for our helmets, a good many more Dwarves would have died that day. But Gandalf never flinched. He raised his other hand and shouted again, and the whole hall just stopped: pebbles, rocks, boulders, all floating on the air as light as clouds.
"We finished collecting our wounded and hurried out, but I lingered a moment to look back at the wizard. As I watched, he lowered his arms very slowly, and all the stone he'd levitated drifted to the ground as gently as feathers.
"At the feast that night I asked him why he hadn't just let everything drop, and do you know what he told me? He said, 'Even broken, it was still so beautiful that I couldn't bear to damage it any further. Besides, I thought you might like me to repair it later.' And he did, as you can see. Amazing man, that Gandalf."
He looked around the great hall, taking in the hundreds of spires, bridges, curtains and arches; the rainbow of sparkling colors; the frozen waterfalls of stone. This cavern alone could hold five hundred souls, yet it was only one of thousands in a network of uninhabited caves that stretched beneath the Dwarf city. No one lived in this section of Mornegald, Aglor told us; they only toured or tended it. In fact, the Dwarves who'd been trapped during the earthquake included two sculptors and a poet.
As I stared about me, I had a sudden flash of inspiration. "Enric," I murmured, squeezing the werewolf's hand, "I just realized what this place is: "The Glittering Caves of Aglarond"!
"Eh?" said King Aglor.
I blushed. "Sorry, Your Majesty. I was just remembering a story Gandalf wrote about a place like this. He even used your name, in a way."
"Oh really?" The King beamed. "He said he might do that. I rather hoped he would."
We walked on, past roaring underground cataracts and mile-wide lakes less than a foot deep. As always, a large group accompanied us, staring at us and commenting on our height, or teasing Enric about his "dainty" beard. In between the jokes I also learned some valuable lessons, like how to tell the Dwarf sexes apart. There were dozens of clues, really: things like beard texture, braids, hand size, ornamentation. The mystery solved, I took a certain pleasure in spotting the women in our group. How could I ever have mistaken them for men, I wondered. The differences seemed so obvious, now.
Among our tour was our original hostess, Meli herself; but as we walked on I noticed her dropping further and further toward the rear of the group. I tried to catch her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the path. She looks even worse now than she did on the way up here, I thought. I'd hoped that being back among her people would ease her spirit, but the opposite seemed to be true. Didn't she have anyone here she could confide in, anyone who could give her at least a little love and comfort? I thought again about her life with Urd, traveling from one human village to the next, peddling iron goods to people who sometimes hated the very sight of them. What would drive them to a lifestyle like that, and how would they be treated when at last they came home? I had no way of knowing.
Kyriel, I told myself, you've got no right to interfere in this. But looking at that miserable face, I couldn't resist. Slowly I made my way to Meli's side.
"How are you doing?" I asked.
She looked up in surprise, then quickly stilled her face. I'd learned by now that Dwarves rarely expressed emotion to outsiders. "All right, I suppose," she answered gruffly. "I miss Urd." She cast me a sideways glance. "And I wish I could have taken some of those bastards with me when I fell."
"Do you have someone to talk to?" I asked, as gently as I could. Part of me hoped she'd talk to me, and part of me feared she'd talk to me. I had no experience in crisis counseling; I was the avenger, not the healer. But I did hurt for her, and I would have done anything in my power to help.
"If I need to," said Meli, in a voice that brooked no conversation. I nodded without speaking, almost grateful to let the matter drop.
We walked on, Meli increasing the distance between us and the rest of the party until we they were almost, but not quite, out of earshot. Then she picked up her pace and began to chew her lip. "I've been having dreams, Kyriel," she said suddenly. "About the attack."
My insides wobbled. So she is ready to talk, I thought. Well, Kyriel, you started this...and there's no denying she needs a shoulder to cry on. Okay then, what do you say to somebody who's been through what she has? A dozen thoughts ran through my head, most of them pat responses that would do more harm than good. In the end, I decided that the best thing I could do was just listen and not offer any false reassurances.
Meli stopped in her tracks, her eyes searched my face as keenly as Aglor's had the day before. My nervousness phased into unease. What was I missing here? Did she really want to talk about what I thought she wanted to talk about?
At last the Dwarf glanced back to the path; the rest of our group had disappeared around a corner. She began to walk again, picking up speed quickly until the others came back into sight. Only then did she open her mouth. "When I first met you and Enric," she began, "when I said I didn't remember the two of you rescuing me, that was the truth. But I did remember something. It was just flashes at first, but every night it came to me a little clearer, in my dreams." Still walking, she glanced up at me a second time, and I caught the quick glint of fear in her eyes.
Suddenly I realized where this was heading, and I grew more frightened than Meli. Enric and I been uncertain of our welcome as humans, but that was nothing compared to what I felt now. I could almost wish now that Meli had come to me to talk about the rape. "Tell me what you remember," I said, using a neutral voice and trying my best to look harmless.
Another glance up the path; this conversation was turning into a regular tennis match. She's making sure she can call for reinforcements if I attack, I thought, and my nerves began to sizzle.
Meli squared her shoulders. "I saw monsters," she said, her hand drifting toward the axe in her belt. "A werewolf, I think, and something huge and black with wings."
Very intentionally, I kept my hands away from my own sword. Stay calm, Kyriel, I thought. This might not be as bad as you think ...huh, yeah, right.
When she saw I wasn't going to answer, Meli forged ahead. "At first I thought they were hallucinations, but every night on the way back to Mornegald, I dreamed about them again. And every night the dreams were a little clearer. Last night, for the first time, I could actually make out faces - your faces."
No wonder she's grown so haggard; her subconscious has been screaming to her that she's traveling with a pair of monsters. "Dreams do funny things," I answered, rather feebly. "We see someone in one context in real life, then put them in an entirely different context in our dreams. I'm not surprised you dreamed about me and Enric, since we were the only people you saw for four days straight. And I'm not surprised you dreamed about monsters, considering what you went through." Oh yeah, that's the way to be compassionate, Kyriel. Play on her pain to save your own sorry ass.
Meli didn't take the bait. "I suppose not," she frowned, "but I am surprised that the monsters in my dreams fought for me instead of against me." The steel was back in her eyes, and her hand rested firmly atop her axe head. She stopped again and faced me squarely. "Tell me you're not monsters, Kyriel, or tell me you are. But tell me the truth; I deserve it."
Now it was my turn to glance up the path. Enric would have heard our conversation if he hadn't been engrossed in the King's stories, but I didn't know how he could help anyway. As it was, I wondered if I'd even have time to warn him of an attack. But I had to give Meli this: she could have confronted us already, in front of the King and everyone; yet she'd stayed quiet until we were alone. Besides, she really did deserve the truth. I squeezed my eyes shut, gathering strength, and sighed deeply. "We're not monsters, Meli," I said. "We're not human, either, but we're no threat to you or any of your people."
From the look on her face, she'd expected no less from me. "I'll be the judge of that," she snapped. Her glare that could have split stone. "What are you, then?"
No wonder the Dwarves had such fearsome reputations in battle. It took some effort even for me not to flinch away from that expression. "I'm a Fury," I told her matter-of-factly. "I take vengeance on monsters like those men back at the crossroads, but I never hurt innocent people. Never."
"That's not what I've heard about your kind."
Well, at least she hadn't drawn her axe yet. "Do you believe everything you hear about Dwarves?"
Meli spat on the path. "Not when it comes from humans."
"Well, they don't like us any more than they like you," I shot back. "Are you really going to trust their stories, now that you've seen a Fury for yourself?"
The Dwarf only shrugged. She wasn't about to commit herself prematurely. "What about Enric?" she demanded. "He's a werewolf, isn't he?"
"Yes, and also one of the kindest men you'll ever meet."
"Except when the moon is full, I suppose?"
"Come on, Meli," I groaned. "The moon wasn't full when he saved your life. Enric has complete control over his gifts, day or night, any time."
"Gifts?" she sneered, but I nodded.
"Yes, gifts. We are what we want to be, what we chose to be. And we choose what we do with our gifts. If we'd intended to kill you, we could have done it long before now. Why would we even have rescued you in the first place if we didn't mean well?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you wanted to get into Mornegald."
"And do what? Kill you all? Steal all your treasure? Even if we wanted to - which we don't - you outnumber us by several thousand to two!"
Meli still didn't seem convinced, and again I sighed. "Okay, look-" I reached into my blouse and pulled out a medallion stamped with Chresta's face. "A holy symbol, see? If I were evil, would I be able to wear this?"
"It could be cursed," Meli sniffed, but her shoulders unkinked a bit.
"If you've got one of your own, I'll be glad to repeat the demonstration."
"I don't," she answered flatly.
By now I could practically feel the steam pouring out of my ears. "Well then, we're at an impasse, aren't we?"
"I guess we are." Meli folded her arms, which at least got her hand away from the axe. I tried to think of that as a hopeful sign.
For a long moment we only stared at each other. Finally I asked, "Are you going to tell King Aglor?"
She shot another glance up the path; our group had disappeared again. "No," she mumbled, not meeting my eyes. I didn't need Enric's sense of smell to know she was lying. On the other hand, the group had vanished again, but this time she made no move to follow them. That had to count for something, didn't it?
"Oooo-kay." I pressed my lips together. I knew better than to try arguing her into a change of mind. It would only make her more defensive; after all, her loyalty to her people was at stake. But as much as I liked King Aglor, I couldn't see him leaving a pair of potential monsters free to wander his halls. The best Enric and I could hope for now was to get out of here in one piece, and even that would take some maneuvering. I marshaled my thoughts and spoke carefully. "You know, Meli, Enric and I have been talking about exploring the land around Mornegald. Maybe this would be a good afternoon for a walk outside. We might even take our packs with us, in case we want to stay out overnight. How does that sound?"
The Dwarf frowned. "I'm not sure what you're suggesting."
"Just that, if you change your mind about talking to the King, it would be nice if you waited until we were gone to do it." My temper flared briefly. "We deserve that - wouldn't you agree?"
She frowned even harder. "You say you're no threat to us, so why are you so afraid of his reaction to the truth - if I told him, that is? He's the fairest King we've ever had; you've seen for yourself how well he treats strangers."
"Human strangers, yes - but supernaturals? I don't think so. You're not the only one who's faced prejudice, Meli." A burst of anguish cut through my anger. "If you want us gone," I said, "we're gone. All I'm saying is that there's no need to raise a fuss about it."
A new emotion flickered across Meli's face - could it really be disappointment? For the first time it occurred to me that she might not want us to leave. Again I was tempted to try talking her out of it, but I shoved the thought aside. Even if I could change Meli's mind, I asked myself, would I really want to? Didn't she already have enough anguish, without feeling like she'd betrayed her people? Exasperated, I raked my hands through my hair. This was all so damned unfair. None of us wanted to hurt each other.
A sudden, rather lame, inspiration flashed through my mind. It probably wouldn't work, but anything was worth a try at this point. "Okay, look," I said. "If you're really so confident in your King, then how about this? On the way up to Mornegald we passed a tree with three trunks; one of them had been struck by lightning. Do you remember? It was about halfway between the second and third switchbacks." Meli nodded warily. "Go ahead and tell the King about us - after we've left, I mean. And if he still wants us back, go to that tree and fasten a chain around its base. We'll wait three days for your response, and if we haven't seen anything by then, you'll never have to look at us again. Fair enough?"
This time Meli didn't bother to mask her disappointment. "You'd really do that, wouldn't you?" she asked. "You'd just walk away without a fight?" Her misery cut me to the core. If only King Aglor felt the same, I thought.
"Yes," I answered sadly, "we would." And when she didn't speak again, I sighed. "Well then, good-bye, Meli, and thanks."
She hung her head. "For what?"
"For giving us a chance to leave in peace."
architectural friezes courtesy of Randy D. Ralph at the Icon Bazaar
