Rhania tried to ignore her rumbling stomach while Ildin outlined his plan to the dwarves, who were listening intently as they huddled around a small fire they had built with the last of their firewood. She hadn’t eaten since the boat two days ago and was famished, but the dwarves had devoured every last crumb of their food without so much as a please or thank you.

“So, the gist of is we make a run for the tunnel leading to the surface, killing every goblin we find along the way?” Volkith asked as stroked his beard thoughtfully. “A straightforward plan, but I suppose that’s best given that the seven of us are novices at fighting.”

“Are you sure we need to destroy the tunnel to the surface?” Amant asked.

Ildin and Rhania nodded in unison. “There will be a horde of greenskins hot on our heels. We don’t want them pursuing us through the forest.”

“He’s right, boss,” one of the other dwarves piped up. “Besides, the elf doesn’t want to lead those things into his backyard any more than we would want to lead them back home.”

Amant nodded slowly. “We dug that exit through solid rock. Triggering a cave in will take time. If we don’t do it carefully, it could cause a chain reaction. Bring the whole thing down on top of our heads.”

“How much time?” Ildin asked.

“I can’t say for sure,” Amant said apologetically.

Ildin clicked his tongue irritably. “I thought you dwarves were meant to be masters of tunnelling.”

“We were digging up for our lives,” Amant said hotly. “We entered these tunnels with twenty three dwarves, the cream of the Diggers. Now we are all that remain.”

Ildin’s face turned crimson, and Rhania decided to intercede. “Roughly how much time will you need?”

Amant scratched the back of his head. “I can tell you for sure after I’ve examined the tunnel, but best guess, twenty minutes?”

“That’s far too long,” Ildin snapped. “The three of us can’t hold that horde off for that long.”

“Do you have dwarven powder?” Rhania asked.

The Diggers turned pale, and Amant gasped. “Are you mad? Of course we don’t. What do you think we came out here to do?”

“What if you threw safety to the wind?” Volkith asked.

“Five minutes,” Amant replied at once. “But chances are good that we’d all end up dead.”

“We’d all end up dead anyway if you did it safely,” Ildin pointed out.

“Better the reckless plan then,” Volkith sighed. “I’m afraid time is pressing, and it presents our best chance at survival, and getting word out about the Earth Daughter’s plight.”

“I suppose,” Amant began reluctantly. “Though you realize that unsafe tunnelling is something I am staunchly against.”

“You will have to bend your code just this once,” Volkith said as his lips gave away a faint hint of a smile.

Rhania bit her lip. Ildin had omitted the part where she and Volkith were to remain behind while the others made their escape. He was only to tell him after it was too late and the cave in triggered, making. It was a pragmatic solution, but still a betrayal, which went against her oath as an Arbiter. The fate of a dragon was at stake, but her Captain had often told her that the ends never justified the means.

“When we get to the side tunnel, I will enter first and hold the rear against any greenskins that might be returning from the surface while the half breed and the warlock will hold the bottom while your crew do your work,” Ildin said.

The dwarves raised their eyebrows in surprise and the elven swordsman continued. “Without me, no one will make it back to my village to inform them about the fate of your holy relic.”

The Diggers bristled. They clearly weren’t pleased that Volkith had told the outsiders about their lost dragon. Amant beckoned one of his men over and whispered tersely into his ear before turning to Ildin.

“Very well, elf,” he said. “You have our support. When do you propose we move out?”

“As soon as possible,” he replied and turned to Rhania. “Go and sense the situation out in the tunnel. See what the greenskins are doing.”

Rhania nodded and turned to leave. The look on Ildin’s face when he had called her a half breed troubled her more than her impending death. Then, she realized that the dwarf Amant had spoken to had fallen in step next to her.

“Can I help you?”

“The foreman doesn’t trust your friend,” he said softly. “Are you alright with being left to die with the warlock?”

“I’ve made my peace with that,” Rhania replied. Ildin had already outlined that part of the plan to the Diggers while Volkith slept. Including the part where the warlock would be left behind.

“The foreman is also concerned with how easily he leaves allies to die,” the dwarf continued. “He doesn’t think any of us will make it to his village alive.”

“Your concerns are ill founded. You will be telling tales of your exploits to your grandchildren,” Rhania reassurances sounded hollow even to her own ears.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I’m not going to mince words,” the dwarf said. “When the time comes, we’re going to do our level best to see that you make it through the side tunnel before we bring it down. In exchange, we want you to protect us from that bugger.”

“I’m not sure I can,” Rhania said. “I am an outsider in these lands as well. Besides, Ildin is an honourable man.”

“But you’re an Arbiter, missy,” the dwarf said, looking pointedly at her badge. “That counts for something, and we’d rather have you on our side than the likes of him.”

“And what about him?” she asked as she glanced over her shoulder at Volkith.

“The heretic?” the dwarf spat. “Knife him, leave him to his fate. It doesn’t matter to us. If there’s one thing we agree on with that arrogant tosspot back there, it’s that it is better if the warlock never makes it to the surface.”

“Even though he saved your lives?” Rhania blurted.

The dwarf looked at her pointedly. “We’ve seen more of his foul magic than you have. You’ll understand once you’ve seen what it does.”

The dwarf paused and shuddered. “It isn’t natural.”

“Perhaps,” Rhania allowed. “What is your name, Master Dwarf?”

“My friends call me Gark,” he replied. “You may call me that if we get to the surface alive.”

“I am Rhania.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, bowing stiffly. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

“I don’t think we would have met at all under any other circumstance,” Rhania mused.

Gark chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.”

Then, Rhania remembered the ambush on the river. It felt like it had happened a hundred years ago. She looked at the dwarf and tried to sound nonchalant. “Say, do your people trade dwarven powder?”

Gark narrowed his eyes. “No. Its price is beyond measure. No dwarf would let go of it willingly.”

“Has any gone missing recently?” Rhania ventured.

Gark’s shoulders slumped. “We have lost plenty over the past couple of years. Our city is under siege. Most of our outer settlements have fallen.”

He paused and looked at Rhania. “We should have asked for help months ago.”

Rhania nodded in agreement. The pair fell silent as they approached the hidden door. Rhania placed her hand against it and extended her senses to read the Flow. She sensed twelve goblins in the corridor on the other side. Fewer than before but still a challenge to slay before they could get the alarm out. Unless they were sleeping. She pressed her ear to the wall and heard snatches of conversations in a foul language that she didn’t understand.

“These creatures become more active at night.” Rhania jumped when she heard Volkith’s voice behind her. In the corner of her eye, she spotted Gark back away to give the warlock a wide berth. “Dusk will be the best time for us to strike out. Their sentries will be looking forward to coming off duty then.”

Rhania frowned and backed away from the wall before speaking. “Those creatures must have spent generations living below ground. Why would night or day matter to them?”

“That’s an astute observation,” Volkith grinned. “And a very good question. The foot soldiers we have encountered so far are indeed Deep Goblins. However, their overlords appear to have come from above, probably a part of the greenskin army that is laying siege to Ukh Darnin. They have imposed day and night cycles. I have observed them for a while and found that they are least active at dusk, just before they change shifts.”

“Then the problem becomes knowing when dusk is,” Rhania frowned. “I’ve been down here for a few hours, and I already have no idea whether it is night or day.”

“We dwarves don’t need the sun to tell us what time it is,” Volkith said. “By my reckoning, dusk is in about two hours.”

Rhania glanced at Gark, who nodded.

“Perhaps you’d like to have a short nap in preparation for what is to come,” Volkith suggested. “My bedroll is comfortable, and I shan’t be using it again, I suspect.”

A grim look crossed Gark’s face and Rhania spoke quickly in the hopes that the warlock wouldn’t notice. “Thank you for the kind offer but no. Let me consult with Ildin first and then…”

Her words trailed off when she saw Ildin leading the other dwarves over. The look on his face told her that he was set on striking out at once.

“What is the situation out there?” he asked brusquely.

“Twelve goblins. I heard voices, so they are alert,” Rhania replied and cocked her head at Volkith. “He thinks the best time to strike will be in two hours when they change their guard.”

The elf gave Volkith a contemptuous look. “He seems remarkably well informed on greenskin habits.”

“I’ve spent the past fortnight observing their habits, Master Elf,” Volkith replied formally, ignoring the implication in the swordsman’s tone.

“I’m sure,” Ildin snorted derisively. “All the same, we strike out at once.”

“But,” Rhania began but was cut short when Ildin took her firmly by the arm and guided her away from the others.

“We’ve been over this,” Ildin hissed. “We cannot trust a single word out of that dwarf’s mouth. If he suggests that we attack in two hours, then that is the last thing we should do. For all we know, the greenskins are rousing reinforcements from Ergon knows where and they are converging on this point as we speak.”

At length, Rhania nodded. “You are right. I don’t know what came over me.”

“He has a pleasant demeanour about him,” Ildin said. “But you cannot let yourself be taken in.”

“I will be more cautious from now on,” Rhania promised.

“Good,” Ildin said and paused to study her. “Do you know what needs to be done?”

Rhania met his gaze and nodded emphatically. “I do.”

“Any reservations?”

“No.”

“Of course you do,” Ildin said, seeing through the lie easily. “You are young by our reckoning and aren’t ready to die, but I trust that you will see it through.”

“I will,” Rhania promised.

“Ergon would be proud,” Ildin said in elvish as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “When I get back to the village, I will see to it that your name is inscribed on the Wall of Martyrs at our temple.”

Rhania felt tears well in her eyes. The Wall of Martyrs listed the names of elves who had sacrificed their immortal lives in the service of the Pantheon. To have their name inscribed there meant for it to be honoured for eternity.

“I will not fail,” she choked.

“I know you won’t,” Ildin said.

The swordsman patted her on the shoulder before walking off to join the others. Rhania took a deep breath and slapped her cheeks. Her impending death seemed like something abstract before, but it seemed real now, and she was surprised to find that she was looking forward to it. A noble sacrifice made to save the child of a God.

“He’s manipulative, that one,” Rhania jumped when she heard Volkith’s voice behind her.

“And you have a nasty habit of sneaking up on people,” Rhania snapped.

Volkith grinned impishly. “A survival instinct I’ve cultivated since the goblins appeared at my city’s doorstep.”

“Is eavesdropping another survival instinct?” Rhania asked caustically as she frantically recalled her conversation with Ildin. Had they said anything about their intentions for the warlock?

The dwarf nodded, wide eyed. “But of course. How did you think I knew when to flee the city?”

Rhania grunted. “Well, you had better stop. The others already have enough reason to mistrust you.”

“All the more reason to keep doing it, no?” Volkith chuckled. His demeanour then abruptly turned serious. “Your elf friend. He is buttering you up with insincere words so that you will do his bidding.”

“That is quite the leap,” Rhania observed.

“I must say it’s not often someone is able to sneak up on me.”

The pair turned around to see Ildin glaring at Volkith. The elf’s hand was on his sword. “What poison are you pouring into my companion’s ear?”

“No poison, just friendly advice,” Volkith beamed as he approached Ildin without fear. “Now, let’s get going, shall we?”