“I’m still not sure,” Jaemes begins, “what you want me to say, exactly.”

“You are not, are you?” says the Runethane.

“No.”

I flinch. Jaemes should not be taking such a defiant tone of voice here.

“I see. You do not suppose it could be to do with the rampant rumors you have been spreading around the fort? Disrupting our harmony, distracting our vigilance, and thus making it easier for the darkness to infiltrate?”

“I have been spreading no such rumors, Runethane. Just one warning from you was enough.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so.”

“Then perhaps it is for some other reason that I have brought you down here, then? What do you say to that?”

Jaemes shakes his head. “I can think of no reason.”

“What about your absences?”

“My absences?”

“Yes, your absences. It has been noted that you are often missing from the meal hall. This strikes us as very odd.”

“Who does us refer to here, Runethane?”

“It refers to me and my most loyal dwarves, who are committed to upholding the order of the fort. But I will remind you that I am the one asking the questions here, human. Why have you been taking so many absences from the meal hall?”

“I was never informed that I had to stay there.”

“No, but where else do you have to go? Your chambers are forbidden to you, and as a human you have no need to use the forges and storerooms. You cannot cook, as far as I’m aware. Nor do you have any other jobs, apart from your scribblings.”

“Ah,” says Jaemes. “I see the issue here. Perhaps you are unaware that I have recently been helping in the infirmary, where I can make use of my deep knowledge of your people’s physiology.”

“I am aware. I am talking about your other absences.”

Oh, no. I think I see where this is going; cold sweat forms on my forehead. The Runethane is talking about his meetings with Nthazes and I, kindly facilitated by Belthur.

“My other absences?” Jaemes says, perfectly calm.

“Yes. You are known to vanish from the meal hall too often than can be accounted for by your work in the infirmary.”

“I’m afraid that’s the only reason I leave the meal hall these days.”

“I believe you are lying.”

Jaemes purses his lips. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It recently came to my attention that during one of your absences, a door was broken—the door to the chambers of one of my dwarves. What was the meaning of this, human?”

Shit, the door! I curse my impatience. We shouldn’t have been so desperate to break in. Couldn’t we have waited, forged some kind of lockpick, and gained entry another time?

“During one of my absences?” says Jaemes. “My Runethane, forgive me, but how could you tell that—”

Runethane Yurok raises his palm for silence; Jaemes closes his mouth. “As Runethane, I unfortunately must sully myself dealing with up-abovers. There are imports and exports to be arranged, relations with Runeking Ulrike and the Runethanes of the upper realms to be kept, and many more tasks. My chamberlain also, whose runic ears are more sensitive than even my own, helps me with these dealings. To wit, how the passage of time works, and how it affects goings on in the fort, is not as alien to me as it is to most here.”

Jaemes remains silent.

“So, do you have nothing to say for yourself? What have you been doing, human? And why did you think you could get away with disobeying me yet again?”

“All I have done is to help the fort, Runethane.”

“Liar!” spits the Runethane. “You came down here to further your human enquiries, for your own enrichment. Never have you entertained even a single desire to help the fort. What has been going on, human? Why have you been wandering around the fort, and who with? I hear rumors that some very reputable dwarves have been assisting you: I don’t want to believe this, but I need the truth. And I also find it strange that these latest deaths should happen in the infirmary where you often come.”

“Runethane, surely you are not accusing me of—”

“Of course not!” Spittle flies from the Runethane’s lips. “The darkness is the culprit, always has been, always will be. But I need to know what you have been doing, human! Tell me! Why have you been skulking about behind my back? And who with?”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I feel my limbs stiffen and my insides become very light. Surely Jaemes will not betray our trust?

For a while, he does not speak. Then he lets out a trembling sigh. “Very well, my Runethane. Perhaps I have not been entirely honest with you—though I have not been spreading rumors, I assure you.”

The Runethane remains silent.

“I have been conducting certain investigations of my own. On my own.”

“You have received no help?" The Runethane leans forward. "A certain group of my dwarves—including senior runeknights—has not been providing you cover for your wrongdoing?”

“Because of your decrees I could not be seen to leave the meal hall alone. Whenever I left, it was with various groups of dwarves.”

“And none of these various groups had any part in your wrongdoing?”

“No.”

“Good.” He nods. “That, at least, is good to hear.”

I wonder if he truly believes that, or just desires so strongly to believe that the human couldn’t possible be allied with his dwarves, that he’s ignoring whatever he's been told.

“As to the manner of my investigations—”

The Runethane holds his palm up for silence once more. “I know the manner of your investigations,” he snaps. “You insist on persisting with your revolting theory that one of my dwarves is responsible for the killings. Did I not tell you that us dwarves are not like you humans? That there are no traitors down here? The fact that you could find no one to assist you in your perverse violations of my dwarves’ privacy proves this fact.”

Jaemes bows his head. “Indeed it does, Runethane.”

“So now we must decide on the manner of your punishment. I cannot quite remember what I had threatened.” He leans forward. “I’m sure you do, though. Remind me.”

“Runethane, this is rash!” Jaemes’ eyes widen. “All I’ve been doing has been for the good of the fort!”

“It has done nothing but disrupt our harmony!” bellows the Runethane. “I have lost patience with you, human! You will be punished!”

“The killer is not the darkness! It cannot be the darkness. In the chambers I found—”

“I don’t care what was found! The killer is the darkness—or if it is not, I can see only one other option: that you slew the two in the infirmary and seek to pin the blame on an innocent!”

“Runethane!” Jaemes cries. “That is impossible. The killer slew a dwarf on the expedition—I was not there, could not have been there!”

“You humans have many foul magicks.”

“I am no wielder of the arcane, Runethane! I am merely a scholar!”

“Then show off your scholarly cleverness and answer my question!” shouts the Runethane. “Who is the killer? Is it you, or is it the darkness? Tell me!”

The question echoes around the vast, dark hall. The echoes die and only silence remains. I clench my fists. Any positive feelings I had toward the Runethane after his judgment of my weapon, and interest in my new runes, are utterly gone. He’s proving himself to be exactly the same stubborn, unreasonable, and foolish tyrant I’ve thought him to be since the first killings. Why did someone like him have to rise to the top? Why not someone like Cathez, who’ll at least hear us out? Or even someone like Hraroth, harsh but never unfair? Why this old monster?

“Tell me!” the Runethane bellows again.

I open my eyes, squint past the brilliant glow of our weapons and see that the Runethane’s face is a rictus of rage. What can have made him so deluded? Why does he refuse to entertain even the merest possibility that just one of his dwarves is rotten? My stomach feels hollow, carved out and filled with some kind of scrambling, scrabbling, fearful insect—this is fear, a particular kind of fear. The kind where you have no power over what you’re afraid of, and you just have to stand and watch.

If Jaemes gives the wrong answer, will the Runethane simply just strike him down?

Jaemes’ shoulders sag. “It was the darkness. You are correct, Runethane.”

“You truly believe that, do you?”

“I do.”

“If you are lying to me again, you will be punished even more severely.”

“I am not lying, Runethane,” he says, though I know he is. “The killer was the darkness.”

I wonder how many dwarves still believe that.

“Good. Now, for the matter of your punishment.”

My fingers clench hard around the handle of my mace.

“Since you have admitted your wrongdoing, I see no need to execute you. I am a merciful Runethane, as my loyal runeknights can all attest to. I think imprisonment should suffice. Let me consider the sentence... Yes, let’s see...”

He make a show of looking up at the ceiling to think; before long he looks back down. To his credit, Jaemes does not flinch back. He refuses even to tremble.

“We ought to measure it in your human years, don’t you think? Since that’s what you’re used to. Maybe we can arrange for some kind of timer to be imported. In any case, I think twenty years for lying to me—the most serious part of your crimes—followed by fifteen years for spreading rumors. Plus another five years for general uselessness: I agreed to allow you to come here because I thought you might have some new ideas worth considering, but it seems I was wrong... Ah, wait.”

He pauses.

“There is one idea you had that’s worth considering.” He gives Jaemes a meaningful look. “You were always so keen to allow it.”

Jaemes remains silent.

“So we can deduct those last five human years I added. Which brings your total punishment to a mere thirty-five years. A rather paltry amount for a dwarf, but it should be plenty for a human, don’t you think?”

“Runethane,” Jaemes says. “That is as good as a death sentence.”

“Then would you like one of those instead?” the Runethane spits.

Jaemes does not answer.

“Then be quiet. This is your sentence. Thirty-five human years in a bare cell, or until you perish. You will be provided with enough plain food and water to sustain yourself. See how merciful I am? Even after all you have hurt me—hurt us—I still allocate some of the fort’s stretched resources toward keeping you hale. Do you appreciate it?”

Jaemes does not answer.

“It seems not,” sneers the Runethane. “Well, it’s no matter. Consider it a thank you for the excellent idea you planted into my mind. Commander Cathez, have him taken away from here.”

Cathez nods solemnly to the ranks. Four runeknights come forward—I understand now that this has all been arranged beforehand. Probably since before these most recent murders—the Runethane is merely using them as an excuse.

From the way the runeknights move they seem ready for Jaemes to resist; he does no such thing, merely bows his head and steps away from the Runethane to join them. They exit the hall, leaving only the echoes of their footsteps behind.

The Runethane stands and picks up his mace. It begins to glow brightly, forcing me to shut my eyes again. But his expression remains in my memory, and always will: it’s one of twisted satisfaction.

"It is time for me to issue a very important order," he says.