The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson [70]
"Trotbliese!"she cried, and fire sprang up where her finger had traced. The ward would last, even if she lost consciousness, but if the choker got brave and crossed the flames or dropped down on top of them, they'd be dead. Meisha hoped the fire and the deep dagger wound would be enough to convince the creature not to risk it.
She lay back, letting the flames from the circle wash over her. Her eyes slid closed. She had no strength left.
She awoke sometime later as if from a fever dream. Sweat poured off her skin, yet she shivered with cold. The ward fire still burned.
"Are you spent?" asked Talal. He was sitting up, his knees drawn under his chin. He looked like a small, tetrified boy.
Meisha angled her head to look at him. She smiled crookedly. "Hardly," she replied.
She looked beyond the watd, but the choket was gone. Braedrin's body lay outside the circle, nipped and chewed by the deep bats. His eyelids wete gone, making the whites appear huge in his ravaged face.
"I think I can walk. We should get out of here." Meisha pulled her gaze away from the chilling sight, just in time to see the dwarves walk through the cavern wall.
They came through in silent procession, armed, ringing the fire ward with their own protective circle. There were ten in total, but Meisha's shocked gaze fastened on the leader-a dwarf in dented plate armor, holding a broken battle-axe.
CHAPTER 20
The Howling Delve 4 Marpenoth, the
Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)
Iremember you," Meisha whispered, when the dwarf came to stand in front of her.
He shifted the weapon from fist to fist, and Meisha saw, in the hollow of a hairy throat, a translucent chain, as thin as a cat's whisker. A pendant hung from the chain, with a carved scene depicting the figure of a mountain with a hole in its center
Meisha had seen a similar pendant around the neck of a gold dwarf scholar, long ago. And before that, around the neck of the ghost that haunted her arrival at the Delve. It was the symbol of Dumathoin.
"Keeper of sectets," she greeted the ghost.
"Bearer of the Harp," he replied. He stood so close, his breath should have stirred the air, yet Meisha felt nothing.
The spectral circle fell back to flank their leader. The dwarves' faces held no expression. Meisha wondered whether they saw her at all. When the leader spoke again, his eyes glowed with faint, silver light. Meisha felt the words scrape against her bones.
"Take the warning."
Wetting dry lips, Meisha rose to her knees, which put her roughly at eye level with the ghost. She felt Talal scuttle behind her, pressing against her back. The dwarf paid him no attention.
"What warning?" Meisha asked. "Who are you?"
The dwarf didn't move or make a sound, yet suddenly Meisha clutched her head. Screams reverberated in her mind. She looked back at Talal to see if he had heard them too, but the boy kept his eyes on the ground.
Meisha waited for the ache between her temples to pass before looking back at the dwarf. "Was that you? What happened here?"
"Secrets at rest beneath the earth stay buried, or come to light, according to Dumathoin's will," the dwarf intoned. "We violated that law and brought the beast upon this plane. Dumathoin charges us to put it right. Take the warning to other secret keepers," he repeated, and swung his axe point level with Meisha's chest. Flames from her ward came up through the blade, casting an orange glow on the spectral metal. He stretched out his other hand in a fist. "Do not ventute here."
"What did you-ahh!" Meisha's hand flew to her chest. Coldness spread across her skin. She yanked back the fold of her jerkin where her Harper pin lay. The metal radiated a deep chill; het skin beneath the cloth was red with it. Meisha lifted the pin away from the tender flesh, but the dwarf had lowered his