Theo and Freya sat up on their horses. Brioche was not quite willing to part with the tasty grass she had found, but with a snort and a glare, she went along with Theo’s instructions to follow Freya and Ebony, and the dwarves. Since he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Bruni, Theo was relieved when Brioche finally did as told. It wasn’t that he was bad at riding—he had done it since he was a child, after all—but he certainly was no master at it.
The only thing he was a master at was baking.
“When did the illness start spreading?” Freya asked Bruni.
Bruni, who walked beside the pony, glanced up at her under the thick eyebrows. “Few months ago.”
Theo frowned. A few months ago—that was when the dragons began behaving oddly, too. Was that a coincidence?
Apparently, Freya had the same thought. “Does it have something to do with the dragons? Their odd behavior?”
Bruni shook his head, and the metal trinkets in his beard jangled. “They’re connected, we’re sure of it.” He nodded toward the cart with his companions. “We’ve been on a mission to find the source, and a cure. That’s why the three of us left Silvershard to start with.”
“Did you find anything?” Freya asked. “Is it something environmental?”
Again, Bruni shook his head. “We didn’t find what we were looking for. My… one of my companions thinks that it’s a problem with an old artifact. It’s old dwarf lore, but it sounds like poppycock to me.”
Theo listened more intently, even though he was obviously not invited into the conversation.
“A magical artifact?” Freya asked when Bruni wasn’t immediately forthcoming.
Bruni gave a curt nod. “A set of three bells, said to resonate with the heartbeat of the land. If they are disturbed, they can wreak havoc in subtle, insidious ways.”
“So, magic,” Freya said, not a question.
“Yeah,” the dwarf said. “I hate magic.”
Theo mulled over what Bruni had just said, and asked, “What’s the heartbeat of the land?” He had never heard anything of the sort.
Bruni glared at him and then up at Freya. “Does he know nothing of the world?”
“He’s grown up sheltered,” Freya said in a dismissive tone.
Bruni snorted. “A man who hasn’t seen the world, is no man at all, but a mere babe.”
“I thought dwarves mostly kept to your mountains,” Theo muttered. He did not like Bruni, and hoped they would soon reach Silvershard so they could leave the surly dwarf behind.
“We like our mountains,” the dwarf said. “But no dwarf settles down without having gone out into the world.”
Theo scowled at him. It wasn’t like it was his fault his mom had wanted him to stay in Brightfell.
They kept going, quiet now. As the heavy darkness of night enveloped them, the only light they had to go by was the torches, and the flickering flames made it look like the shadows around them moved. Were those eyes reflected in the darkness? What sorts of beasts were waiting to devour them? And did Freya or Bruni actually know where they were going? For all Theo knew, they might be going in circles.
But suddenly, the dwarf stopped and pressed his hand to the mountain side. He spoke softly in a different language, and runes lit up in the rock before it moved aside.
“I thought you hated magic,” Theo said.
Bruni only glared at him as if he was stupid.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I suppose this is where we leave you,” Freya said. “Good night, Master Dwarf.”
Bruni snorted. “After helping us fight off the wolves, and even making sure to get us safely here, our king would have my head if I didn’t offer you to sleep in safety for the night. Come on.”
The corridor inside the mountain was much bigger than anything Theo could have expected. It was no problem staying on their horses, and whatever magic Bruni had activated upon opening the entrance lit the walls with more runes, casting the corridor in a cold blue light. The air was cooler, filled with the echo of hammers on stone and a faint murmur that must be dwarves deeper in the mountain.
Theo lost track of time as they rode deeper into the mountain—but then the tunnel expanded abruptly into an immense cavern that took his breath away.
He stared at it.
Deep inside the mountain was a whole city—a marvel of dwarven engineering, constructed in layers that descended into the mountain’s core, each tier connected by spiraling ramps and sturdy stone bridges. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, and high above, the ceiling arched in a mimicry of the night sky, studded with crystals that pulsed with a soft blue light.
The streets of the city bustled with dwarves of all ages, their voices a constant, harmonious rumble that echoed off the stone. Despite the late hour, it was full of activity. Perhaps the turns of day and night didn’t matter as much when you couldn’t see the sun.
“Close your mouth, boy, or you’ll catch flies,” Bruni said in a smug tone.
They descended into the city, and Theo took in the dwarves’ homes, which, like everything else, appeared to be carved out of the rock. They bore personal touches, the wooden doors carved with beautiful patterns and small windows with items on display.
A deep sense of wonder and respect for the dwarven way of life filled Theo, regardless of Bruni’s surly demeanor.
Bruni brought them to a large building where he told them to stay outside, before dragging his companions off the cart and going inside with them, one hand on the back of the weaker one.
Despite his nasty demeanor towards Theo, he cared about his friends.
Unwilling to have positive thoughts about the dwarf, Theo thought sarcastically that he hoped it was a place filled with healers, not just a place for Bruni to leave them to die.
Returning outside, Bruni led Theo and Freya through the winding streets of the city. They passed by bustling marketplaces and workshops still alive with activity despite the late hour. The constant hum of dwarven voices and the rhythmic clanging of hammers on anvils echoed off the stone walls.
As they descended to one of the lower tiers of the city, the grand architecture gave way to more utilitarian structures. Bruni guided them to a small, nondescript area near the stables where the city’s pack animals and mounts were kept. The air was thick with the smell of hay and horse, unlike the metallic tang that permeated the rest of the city.
“Rest here for the night,” Bruni said, gesturing to a modest alcove carved directly into the rock face. It was little more than a shallow cave, barely deep enough to shelter them from the constant bustle of the city. A thin layer of straw had been spread on the floor, and a couple of worn blankets were piled in the corner. The space was cramped, clearly not designed for the taller human visitors.
Just a few steps away, separated only by a low stone wall, were the stables. Brioche and the other horses nickered softly, their presence a comfort in the strange underground world.
“I’ll lead you back out tomorrow,” Bruni said brusquely. He glanced at Theo, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
Theo glared at him, but then exhaustion took over. The day had been long with all the traveling, the stop at the tavern, the fight with the wolves and meeting Bruni, and finally, seeing the dwarven city. With a resigned sigh, he set about making Brioche comfortable for the night. He removed the saddle, brushed her down, tied her up loosely, and made sure she had access to water and a portion of grain.
Once done, he returned to the alcove. By spreading out one of the blankets over the straw, he created a makeshift bed that was far from luxurious but would have to do.
Freya, who had taken care of Ebony with an efficiency that far surpassed Theo’s, had already settled in. Ever practical, she did a quick survey of their surroundings, her keen eyes taking in every detail of their humble accommodations. Despite the less-than-ideal conditions, she seemed to find the space acceptable. She wrapped herself in the remaining blanket and lay down on the straw, and within minutes, her breathing had evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep.
Theo, on the other hand, was unused to sleeping anywhere but in a soft bed with plush covers and fluffy pillows. Despite the exhausting day, he had a difficult time getting comfortable, and his mind teemed with thoughts of magical bells, troubled dragons and sick dwarves. What were they up against? The sounds of the dwarven city kept him awake, the distant clangs and the murmur of deep voices mixing with the occasional whinny from the stables.
And he couldn’t help but think back to the prophecy he had found.
Through villages she roams in fear,
Her hidden magic breaks control
A town in ashes, she disappears
To forest deep, she flees aloneHer shielded home, time’s flow defied,
Ageless she waits as decades pass
More than fifty years had passed since the mad witch disappeared—but the prophecy said she was ageless. Was it her, causing all of their problems? If anyone would want to get a hold of bells that would cause disturbances throughout the lands, surely it was a wicked witch?
