"So you're leaving Girdlegard," Tungdil said wearily. "Where will you go? Aren't you worried about your realm?" He wiped the back of his hand across his face. He had been staring unblinkingly at the flickering flames, and the heat had dried his tears, leaving a salty residue in his eyes. "Will things be better elsewhere?"

"I'd be a fool to throw myself in front of a rolling stone when there's nothing else to stop it," she said softly. "It's not in my nature to prolong suffering without good cause. I shall give up my realm without a fight. What good would come of resisting? I may as well take my chances across the border now that Girdlegard's defenses have fallen." It was clear from her tone that the matter was closed. "I need to sleep."

After thanking the maga for her confidences, Tungdil withdrew and joined the twins to tell them what had happened in Lios Nudin.

"The wizards are really dead?" Boпndil skewered another piece of cheese from his seemingly endless supply. "So much for their miraculous powers!"

"The strongest shield is useless when the sword is wielded by a traitor," his brother said wisely, munching on a hunk of toasted bread. "The long-uns are a wretched lot. I can't imagine what the gods were thinking when they created them." He chewed his mouthful vigorously. "It's bad enough that they kill each other without dragging the rest of us into it."

Tungdil reached for a helping of molten cheese and popped it into his mouth. He had developed a taste for the pungent delicacy, which he regarded as a sign of progress as far as his dwarven credentials were concerned.

Boпndil gave him a nudge and pointed his cheese skewer at the mismatched pair on the opposite side of the fire. "Would you believe it? He's still wearing that bucket. I bet it's stuck on his head!"

Boлndal was more respectful. "It's his height that gets me. Granted, I don't know much about humans, but he's by far the biggest long-un I've ever seen. He makes orcs look like children."

"What if he's not really a long-un?" his brother said suspiciously. "He could be a baby ogre or Tion knows what." Already he was on his feet, preparing to march over and confront the giant. "I'm telling you, if there's a green-hided runt hiding in that armor, I'll kill it on the spot." He grinned dangerously. "The same goes for the lady. So what if she's a maga? She's not much use to Girdlegard now."

Tungdil's face flushed with panic. He wouldn't put it past Andфkai to have one of Tion's monsters at her side. I can't let Boпndil pick a fight with Djerun. If he starts on the giant, Andфkai will join the fray and we'll all be in trouble.

"No, he's a man, all right," he said firmly. "Haven't you heard about the human giants? I read somewhere that they join together in formidable armies. The orcs are scared stiff of them!"

It was a nerve-racking business lying to his kinsfolk, but he knew it was for the best.

"How do they get that big?" persisted Boпndil, reluctant to let the matter drop. He jiggled his axes, hoping to find some reason that would allow him to test his strength against the giant.

"Um, it's their mothers… You see, they…" Tungdil tried feverishly to dream up an explanation; almost anything would do. "Straight after birth, the mothers tie ropes to their arms and legs and stretch them as much as they can. They keep doing it, every morning and every night," he blustered, "and it works, as you can see. They've got a fearsome reputation on the battlefield. They actually grow into their armor; they can't take it off."

The brothers looked at him incredulously. "Their mothers really do that to them?" Boпndil was shocked. "It's pretty gruesome, don't you think?"

"That's what it says in the books."

Boлndal looked the warrior up and down. "I'd like to know what he weighs and how much he can lift."

The three dwarves stared at the giant, trying to work out whether or not he was asleep. His demonic visor shone in the flames, grinning at them mockingly.

Boлndal shrugged. "Sooner or later he'll show his face. He'll have to lift his visor when he eats."

IX

Kingdom of Gauragar, Girdlegard, Late Summer, 6234th Solar Cycle It had been a long time, perhaps thousands of cycles, since Girdlegard had last seen a band of travelers as strange as the company that had been toiling through Ionandar and Gauragar for several orbits.

First to appear over the hilltop was Djerun, his formidable armored body provoking horrified panic among any peasants who happened to be tending the land.

The dwarves led the way, but their stocky figures took longer to loom into view. Boлndal and Boпndil walked ahead, with Tungdil in the middle and Andфkai and the giant a few paces behind. Djerun was forced to take miniature strides in order not to outpace his mistress and the dwarves. The maga had offered a farmer a ridiculous number of gold coins to part with his horse, which now bore the weight of her bags and the giant's spare weaponry.

Tungdil was still trying to work out whether to tell Andфkai about the books. He had no idea what was written in the scholarly tomes, but it was encouraging to know that Nфd'onn feared their contents as much as the artifacts. Who knows if I can stop him, hut Andфkai surely can. She's the last of Girdlegard's magi. He was determined to do whatever it took to make her stay. Slowing his pace a little, he fell in beside her. "I've been thinking about your magic and I can't figure out why it still works. Didn't Nфd'onn corrupt the force fields?"

"Why do you ask?"

"It's important?"

"For you or for me?"

"For Girdlegard."

"For Girdlegard! Very well, Tungdil, how could I refuse?" She smiled balefully. "I was never as kind-spirited as my fellow magi. My god is Samusin, god of equilibrium, who cherishes darkness as well as light. Thanks to him I have the ability to use both. It's harder for me to store and use dark magic, but the corruption of the force fields hasn't really affected my powers. Nфd'onn knows that, but he wasn't expecting me to survive. Not that he's got anything to worry about-my art is nothing compared to his." Shielding her eyes with her hand, she squinted into the distance. "There should be a forest ahead. I can't stand this sun much longer."

You've got to ask her now, Tungdil told himself. He summoned all his courage. "Maga, suppose there was a way of stopping the traitor. Would you try it?" he asked.

There was silence. Just as the tension was becoming unbearable, Andфkai spoke. "Would this have something to do with the contents of your bags, little man?"

"We found something in Greenglade," he told her, giving a brief account of what had happened in the woods. "Nфd'onn sent in the дlfar, but we got there first."

"Are you going to show me?"

Tungdil thought for a moment and decided that there was no point leaving the matter half-solved. He slid the package out of his knapsack, removed the wrapping, and handed over the books.

Andфkai opened each of the tomes in turn and leafed through the pages, her face remaining an inscrutable mask.

Tungdil couldn't help feeling disappointed: He had reckoned with her amazement. Seeing her dispassionate expression made him fear the worst.

At length she returned the volumes. "Was there anything with them?"

"What are they about?" he asked, deciding not to give away anything until he'd found out more.

"They're anthologies: descriptions of legendary beings and mythical weapons, and an obscure tale about an expedition across the Stone Gateway into the Outer Lands. It says in the preface that a single survivor returned, mortally wounded but bearing manuscripts that are reproduced in the book. Why Nфd'onn should take an interest in the volumes is a mystery. I suppose he's just as knowledge-lusty as before."