The impresario had brought his bag of costumes with him. Bavragor was amused to see that he refused to be parted with them. "Couldn't you have left them with the firstlings?"

Rodario gave him a disapproving look. "Absolutely not! There's no telling when I might need them, and besides, do you know how much they're worth?"

He was interrupted by a sudden bang. It sounded like a single rap of a hammer on stone. The echo rumbled through the tunnels, then faded.

They turned to look at Furgas, who was bent over the rail. "It wasn't me," he said quickly. "It came from the next stretch of tunnel."

Goпmgar sat up. "I know that noise." He reached nervously for his shield. "The spirits of the dead masons are haunting us," he whispered, cowering behind his steel screen. "Vraccas protect us from their ghosts!"

The sound was familiar to Tungdil too. "We heard the exact same noise just before our wagon was derailed near Mifurdania," he said softly. I wonder if it's a signal. But what would it be conveying? And to whom?

"Quiet, everyone." Boпndil's warlike instincts had been stirred. He got up and jogged to the mouth of one of the tunnels, while Narmora stood guard by the other. Sticking his head into the darkness, he listened intently. They held their breath for what seemed like an eternity.

Only Andфkai looked untroubled, rummaging casually for her pipe. She filled it and lit it with a burning splint. Balyndis smiled broadly and followed suit, picking up a smoldering ember with her gloved hand and holding it to the tobacco. The two women, who couldn't have been more different in appearance, disappeared in clouds of smoke.

At length Boпndil returned to the fire. "Nothing," he reported. "No noises, no smell."

"We don't want any more accidents," Tungdil told them. "We'll have to be careful." He settled down to get some sleep.

Furgas and the half дlf took their places beside him. "I think we're not the only ones on the move down here," Furgas confided in a whisper. "There's not a speck of rust on the rail ahead."

"So the tunnel is being used on a regular basis," Tungdil conjectured.

"I thought you should know."

"Thank you, Furgas. I'd rather you didn't tell the others. We don't want Goпmgar dying of fright." Beroпn's Folk, Secondling Kingdom, Girdlegard, Winter, 6234th Solar Cycle What can I do for you, Bislipur?" asked one of the two sentries politely as the fourthling approached the door to the underground network.

"Die," he said smilingly. "Die nice and quietly." His ax whipped up and swooped diagonally toward the sentry's unprotected throat.

There was no time to escape the double-handed blow and the guardsman succumbed with nothing but a muffled groan.

His companion managed to reach the bugle with his left hand and the hilt of his club with the other, but already the bloodied ax was slicing through the flesh beneath his chin. The blade jerked upward, cleaving his skull.

Well, that wasn't too hard. Bislipur wiped the blood from his face and gave a short whistle, whereupon two hundred of his most loyal soldiers appeared in the corridor.

"You know what to do," he said tersely before reciting the runes that opened the door to the tunnels. "Show Gandogar's enemies no mercy: They will show none to you." Underground Network, Kingdom of Weyurn, Girdlegard, Winter, 6234th Solar Cycle Just as they reached the three-hundred-mile marker, disaster struck. Moments earlier they had exited the tunnel and turned onto a narrow bridge. As far as they could tell, there was nothing but thin air and darkness beneath them.

The first carriage was traveling at full speed when the dwarves felt a sudden judder and the wheels were thrown from the track, tilting the wagon to the side. Sparks flew everywhere as they skidded along on two wheels, trying to right the wagon before it tipped too far. The next moment, they hit the ground and flipped over.

There was a screech of brakes as the second wagon stopped just paces from the scattered bodies.

Tungdil, Balyndis, and Boпndil were in luck: They landed on the bridge, tumbled over, rolled for a bit, and slowed to a halt. Their gloves and armor saved their skin from serious cuts and grazes.

Tungdil discovered to his embarrassment that he was lying on top of Balyndis. His cheeks reddened. She gazed up at him and seemed about to say something, but swallowed her words and just stared.

The spell was broken by the sound of Goпmgar frantic screams. "Sorry," Tungdil said awkwardly, picking himself up to see what was wrong.

The little dwarf was dangling from the side of the bridge. His hands clung desperately to the stone coping, but his knapsack and his armor were exerting an inexorable downward pull. "Somebody do something!" he whimpered desperately. "I'm falling!" Tungdil broke into a sprint.

Bavragor was lying near the edge of the bridge, a few paces from the stricken artisan. He got up, muttering, groaning, and clutching his head. "I think an ogre just kicked me." Suddenly he noticed the plight of his companion and threw himself forward to grab his arm.

It was too late.

Goпmgar panicked face vanished from view, his shrill scream fading rapidly.

"Vraccas forfend," stuttered the mason. Boпndil, Tungdil, and Balyndis reached the spot a moment later, only to watch helplessly as the shrinking figure was swallowed by the darkness.

"Move!" Andфkai sped past them, bounded onto the coping, and pushed off forcefully, arms outstretched like a diver.

Her scarlet cloak billowed behind her like a flag; then she too was gone.

The dwarves could hear the swoosh of her cloak but were powerless to intervene. Rodario lit his torch and dangled it into the gloom, but the light was too weak to cut through the blackness.

Long moments passed and at last they saw a faint blue glow in the murkiness below.

"Do you think she hit the bottom and died?" asked Boпndil. "It might be her soul."

Tungdil shot a quick glance at Djerun, who was immobile as ever. He didn't seem overly concerned about his mistress's safety, which gave Tungdil grounds for hope. I'm sure she knows what she's doing.

"It's getting closer," Balyndis shouted excitedly. "It's flying up."

A fierce gust blew toward them, propelling two figures out of the chasm below. The current of air carried the maga and her passenger to the bridge, set them down gently, and died away.

Andфkai's long blond hair was tousled, and the artisan's shimmering beard seemed to have been ransacked by mice. His face was ashen but he wasn't in the least bit hurt.

"That was incredible, Estimable Maga!" exclaimed Rodario. "Absolutely incredible! How selfless and courageous of you. To think that you risked your own precious life to save the dwarf!" He turned to Goпmgar apologetically. "Not that your life is any less precious, of course."

Andфkai seemed determined not to dwell on the incident. "Have you checked the wagon?" she asked Furgas. She gave her cloak a tug and set about plaiting her hair. "Can you fix it?"

The prop master walked over to the vehicle and shook his head. "The wheels have buckled. We won't get them back on the rail." He bent down. "Someone's been busy," he said. "We're lucky that the other wagons didn't meet the same fate."

"The gold and tionium," cried Boпndil, who had crawled round to the other side of the wagon to check the cargo. "They're gone."

Bavragor gazed gloomily into the chasm. "It's not hard to guess where they are: on a never-ending journey to the bottom of the world." He looked at the maga hopefully.

"No," she said, dismissing his unspoken request. "We'll have to think of something else."

They fell silent. Two key components of the magic weapon had been wrenched from their grasp.

"I knew we'd never make it," whined Goпmgar, unable to hide his glee.