Chapter 16

As the night hurried to drag its dark shroud across the heavens, the companions stood before a space that was blacker still, for here stood the door of Atarna, the secret Kâlangate leading into the heart of the Deathlord’s domain. It was not unlikely that for some or perhaps even all of them, the passage through this portal would turn out to be a one-way affair. Yet, for weeks they had strived to reach this point, and now they had merely to step over the threshold to begin the final phase of their quest.
      The rest of the way would be travelled on foot, and so they would have to leave their steeds behind. Raavan took Windaris aside and whispered at length into his ear. When he was done the stallion whinnied in reply, and the wizard nodded to him approvingly.
      The wizard explained to the others that they had nothing to fear for their steeds, for Windaris would lead them across the Ulul and then westward to the north-eastern shore of the Silver Sea. There they would be able to scrape away the snow with their hooves to reveal the edible vegetation beneath. They would wait there until they were later sent for by Airi. Though the owl was clearly unhappy with the decision, he also would not be accompanying the companions into the Dwarvenholt, but would look for them on the Steps of Talakaraknu following the eclipse.
      As they stepped through the dark portal Talen took one last look at the world outside, for he feared it may be his last. In the sky above he could see the strange northern lights dancing across the inky vault. It was a scene that he knew would be etched indelibly into his memory for the rest of his life, however long or short that may be.
      When they all had entered Burak spoke the Dwarven word of closing and the doors slowly swung shut. Raavan then called for Talen to produce the glowing Hemiglobe, which he did. The wizard took the orb and held it just above his head. Looking up at the low ceiling they were able to see the constellation which the globe cast upon the rock, almost as if they were again above ground.
      ‘About six o’clock,’ said Raavan. ‘Very well, then. We shall use the Hemiglobe to keep track of the time while inside Hélethrôn. We have just over three days to reach the Drátheome, where the ritual of the Unsundering most likely will take place. That should be just enough time.’
      And so on they went. Though it was night outside they would not stop to rest till it became absolutely necessary. Drawing their weapons they moved slowly forward, Raavan leading the way with the glowing orb held aloft. Just a short distance ahead the passage fell away in a long series of stairs. Before beginning the descent they took a moment to examine the runes carved into the walls on either side.
      ‘The Passage of Diárachán,’ said Meledrü, consulting his map. ‘This will lead us to the very deepest levels of the complex. From there we will have to find our way back up to the Drátheome. Not all of the levels are equally mapped out, so that will involve some guesswork. Yet, I think we can manage.’
      ‘It’s not finding our way that worries me,’ said Raavan. ‘It’s finding our way without alerting all of Hélethrôn in the process. We shall have to be very careful. And we will not be able to leave a trail of dead spawn behind us.’
      ‘That’s going to be difficult,’ said Berethir, fondly handling his great broadsword.
      ‘We will just have to be prudent,’ said Raavan. ‘And we must hide any bodies we leave behind. Spawn are not overly intelligent, but even they will be able to put two and two together if we give them enough hints. Very well, then. Meledrü—lead on!’
      It was a long trek, their descent into the bowels of the earth. They would be passing beneath the westernmost peaks of the Yultauron range, then under the River Atha as it flowed northward toward its joining with the Ulul, and then finally they would approach the ancient Dwarvenholt itself. In all they had still some fifty miles to cover before reaching Hélethrôn, yet their encounters with the enemy could begin at any time and so they held their weapons at the ready as slowly they marched on.
      The Passage of Diárachán was among the most ancient which any of them had seen. Though Dwarven works tended to withstand the destructive forces of nature better than most, still they were invariably affected by shifts within the rock structure. Deep within the earth the myriad geological processes endlessly reshaped the underlying strata, causing sometimes minor shifts above, and sometimes violent upheaval.
      So far the companions saw only signs of the former, for here and there were small piles of rubble, often little more than dust, yet they also encountered splits in the floor and crevasses in the walls, and some of these were indeed rather wide. An easy leap was all that was required for most, though the Elflings were understandably anxious about jumping across the largest of the pits, which measured some five feet across and appeared quite bottomless.
      On the company went, and yet deeper into the earth did the Passage of Diárachán take them. Long, winding stairways were interspersed with shorter stretches of rough-hewn tunnel. The air was stale and dusty, as though it had not been stirred in centuries. And indeed, for the longest time they encountered not a single living creature as they followed the ancient path.
      It was late in the afternoon of the following day according to the Hemiglobe when at last they had their first encounter with the denizens of this underground realm. A small group of Troells and Goblyns came rather noisily round a corner to find themselves suddenly impaled on the companions’ swords. Their bodies were quickly stripped of their clothing, for Valainis suggested that the infiltrators would be much less conspicuous if they were clothed in the smelly rags of the spawn. Their armour they kept, but the spawn clothing was donned overtop, though the stench almost made them gag.
      With the exception of Berethir and the two Dwarves they all were thus disguised after this first encounter, and so they needed only to meet up with some of the large-chested Ghakhen in order to obtain proper attire for the other three. This need was soon fulfilled, for after cutting down another group of Troells they next came to a band of Ghakhen hauling water up from a deep, underground well. Once the beasts had been relieved of their lives and their clothing, their swords were then thrust into each other to paint the scene as one resulting from a typical bout of internecine feud, for which spawn were well known. In this way the companions hoped to avoid rousing the suspicions of any who might come across the carnage.
      Finally they saw that they were nearing the central parts of the ancient Kâlandelf. Greater numbers of side-passages now came to join the main way, yet the company stuck to the wide central tunnel for as long as they could.
      Eventually the way split into two rather similar looking forks. Upon closer inspection the left path was seen to continue descending fairly rapidly whereas the right way appeared to level off. They unanimously elected to follow the right path. They soon were forced to revisit that decision, however, when they came with great stealth to a large hall filled with feasting Ghakhen. Fortunately they were not seen by any of the spawn, and so back to the fork they quietly retreated to take the left tunnel instead.
      Now they were indeed very deep in the earth, and deeper still were they taken with every step, for the passage stubbornly refused to slow its descent. When they had left the fork some ways behind they stopped to down a wafer and some water. They ate in silence as they listened for any hint of approaching spawn, though they heard none.
      It was soon after they had resumed their weary trek that the tunnel suddenly came to an end at a narrow cross-way. As they stepped into the cave-like passage they felt a warmth about them that spoke of nearby fire, and indeed though there was no smoke to be seen a burning smell hung heavy on the air which they could not fail to notice.
      ‘I think we have come finally into the very depths of Kilu-kânan,’ said Meledrü: ‘the basement of basements, as it were.’
      ‘I think you may be right,’ said Raavan.
      They took the southern passage. This went on a short way and then left them with another choice: south-west or south-east. Though the latter seemed fairly unremarkable, from the south-west passage came a curious red glow, which they wordlessly agreed to investigate. As they started down the corridor the air became ever hotter, and soon the reason for this was quite clear.
      Looking down from a high ledge they saw that they had come to an enormous cavern which housed a great lake of fiery, bubbling lava. The scene was so terrible and awesome that they could only stand there transfixed as the sweat rolled down their faces and the noxious gasses burned in their lungs.
      Now they saw that within the fiery lake swam a number of creatures: horrible nightmarish creatures with pointed horns, sickly bodies, and terrifying faces. Presently, two of them climbed out onto the far shore and began to perform the most abominable acts on a pile of corpses which lay there.
      ‘Hélfiends ,’ said Raavan with loathing.
      ‘To the very depths of Amgamman have we come,’ said Burak with dread. ‘This is a place for devils and demons—we must leave!’
      The others needed no coaxing now. They turned and fled with all swiftness back the way they had come, till reaching the junction with the Passage of Diárachán they continued past it to follow the northern way. They wandered for some time, following many twists and turns and taking many random choices as they were presented.
      Yet, no sooner had the image of that dreadful scene begun to release its grip on their hearts than they turned the corner to find themselves in a much smaller room with a modest lava pool in its centre. As luck would have it, one of the abominable Hélfiends was just climbing out of the pool as the companions entered the room, and when he saw them he opened his accursed mouth to give an ear-splitting wail.
      The companions bolted, with the demon hot on their trail. Down tortuous passageways and through smoky chambers they blindly fled, yet the beast kept up the chase. Finally, when they thought they could run no further the pursuit was given up. In the corner of a large, natural cavern they collapsed onto the ground, too weary even to care what manner of creature might come across them as they lay unmoving in the darkness.
       
       
      When they awoke they realised that they had lost complete track of time, for they had not intended to fall asleep there at the very bottom of Hélethrôn. Yet, they felt better for it and could only be thankful they had not been eaten or dragged into a lava pool by some wandering devil. Moving into a low passage they held the Hemiglobe up to check the position of the stars. Time was running short.
      They continued westward hoping both to avoid the beast which they had encountered earlier and also to find a way up. It seemed their luck was returning, for soon they were ascending a crumbling stairway to the level above.
      Now they wandered through dark passageways where the only signs of any living being were the remains littering the floor of creatures that had lived long ago. Bones and rusty blades were draped with the life’s work of many generations of spiders. And over all lay a thick carpet of dust that revealed only the footprints of rats (and even these were very rare).
      Though they still were too deep in the earth for any of Meledrü’s maps to be of use they soon found a stairway by which they were able to ascend yet another level in this great vertical realm. Now they were at least beginning to see signs of habitation, for there were many more rats than before as well as clear paths through the dust that spoke of the regular passage of larger creatures. These it was decided were probably just the few Thornlings and Ghimals of which they were able to catch an occasional glimpse, for no live spawn had been sighted since they left the Passage of Diárachán.
      It seemed that much of the level immediately above them had long ago collapsed, so that none of the stairways leading up to it were passable. This was of course a problem, for though they knew the spawn which they had encountered in the Passage of Diárachán must have followed some other way down from the surface, they had already given up on that passage due to the large number of Ghakhen which they encountered there and also because returning to it would mean risking further encounters with the Hélfiends.
      And so they continued to search till finally they came to a very formidable looking stone door which was unfortunately locked. Yet they had been prudent enough to bring along their packs, and so it was not long before Burak had his tools spread upon the floor about him as he laboured diligently at the lock. After quite a lot of cursing and tinkering with the ancient mechanism a loud clack! was heard and the door swung open with a heavy grinding sound.
      Beyond the door lay another complex of rooms and passageways, though these had a rather different character that was in some ways reminiscent of Ilimath in its architecture and overall construction. Before continuing on they took a brief rest and downed another biscuit. Another reading of the Hemiglobe confirmed that time had not slowed its speedy pace, yet it was reckoned that the company still were five or six levels beneath the surface. Hastily they continued their search.
      Finally they came to a hall that was constructed much like an outdoor courtyard, with balconies and stone-lined paths and founts that now were dry. At the far end was a pair of elegant staircases that merged halfway up into one and then ended before a grand portal. Though the latter turned out to be completely blocked beyond with rubble, Burak discovered a secret doorway at the bottom of the left staircase. With some difficulty he and Meledrü managed to open the concealed portal to reveal a rough-hewn passageway beyond. After a short distance the passage rose suddenly in a long spiral of stairs.
      Up they went, and now they became rather more vigilant, for Falco’s blade resumed its soft red glow, confirming that spawn were not very far. Up and up the passage led, and when finally it dead-ended the infiltrators reckoned they were now perhaps only three levels beneath the surface. Another quick check with the Hemiglobe showed that they had just seven hours till the time of the Darkening.
      Running his rough hands over the wall Burak soon found another secret door, which he then hurriedly worked to open. As the mechanism was predictably similar to the one below this took rather less time than before. Soon they were slipping through the portal into a dark chamber featuring only a single exit. When they stepped out of the chamber through this doorway they were presented with a short staircase leading down a half flight to a dimly lit hallway below.
      This they descended very carefully, for they could hear that spawn were nearby. At the bottom of the stairs was a corner and on the stone floor there shone the flickering light of passing torches. Peering briefly round the corner they could see that a steady stream of Goblyns, Ghakhen, and Troells were marching down an adjoining hall. Raavan was able to guess from bits of their foul speech that the spawn were preparing for an imminent battle. He also gathered that an army of Dwarves, Elves, and men had been spotted advancing into Tath from the south and east, and this he relayed to the others in whispered tones.
      This was heartening news, for it meant that the allies had been able to organise their forces and were ready to begin their assault of Hélethrôn from without. Now it was nearly time for the infiltrators to do their part by carrying out the assault within. Yet they still had a ways to go to reach the Drátheome, which was as many as four levels above them according to the Dwarves’ reckoning.
      As the stream of spawn passing down the dimly lit hall showed no sign of abating the companions decided they could no longer wait. They would have to slip in among the marching creatures and follow the endless tide till they came to a place where they could slip aside.
      Though they all had donned the flea-infested rags of the spawn, still they hesitated to expose themselves to the enemy at such close quarters lest their disguises prove less than convincing. To augment their camouflage they rubbed the filth from the bottoms of their shoes onto their faces and their necks. When they all were nearly blackened with filth and had tucked their beards in their shirts they drew their weapons (except for glowing Athrónath and Noromendor) and prepared to join the foul procession. The infiltrators watched the spawn for a moment longer to measure their pace and the pitch and roll of their beastly walk, and then when they felt they had the rhythm down they ambled up to the adjoining corridor to merge into the passing horde.
      Talen and Falco followed directly behind the two Dwarves, who led the small group onward. Though the Elflings kept close to the left-hand wall several Troells moved up from behind to shamble beside them on their right. This made Talen very nervous indeed, for he feared that at any moment he could be discovered by an over-curious Troell. He knew that if just one of the spawn were to see through their makeshift disguises it would not be long before the companions had an entire mob assailing them.
      Fortunately, a lot of jostling went on in the swiftly moving crowd, so that all of the spawn around them had quite enough to occupy their attention. Talen did his best to keep his face down and his eyes forward, though he gripped his sword tightly and kept it ever at the ready in case he should suddenly need to use it. The Elfling was very tense indeed, as were the others, yet on they went as Meledrü showed no hint of turning aside to leave the throng.
      Now the corridor suddenly began arcing to the left to form a semicircle, and here the mob turned onto a wide avenue opening midway through the arc on the right. Talen saw through a large opening in the curved wall on the left that this protuberance was formed by a great, circular shaft that extended vertically through the mount.
      As he gazed at this curious structure he saw out the corner of his eye that the Dwarves were separating from the mob to continue along the passageway as it curved to the left. Talen and the others quickly followed, ignoring the few grumblings and curses of the spawn who must have thought the companions deserters. Yet the spawn continued on their way as the companions swiftly disappeared down the dark corridor.
      When they had left the light of the torch-bearing horde behind Talen was urged to produce the Hemiglobe so that they might see their way. They turned from the main passage into a small chamber, and Meledrü produced a map from his pack.
      ‘We are here,’ said the Dwarf, pointing a stubby finger at a small circle on the map. ‘This shaft is the Koreron, which extends from the open Díoma at the top of the mount down through the Drátheome and all levels beneath, all the way to the Hélpools at the very bottom. If we are on the third level beneath the surface, as I think we are, we need only find our way up one more level, and then we should be able to locate this secret passage which leads up to the level of the Drátheome.’
      ‘Too bad we can’t just climb up that great shaft,’ said Falco.
      ‘There appears to be a stairwell at the far end of this corridor,’ continued Meledrü. ‘That should take us to the next level, and then we can look for the hidden passage.’
      Down the corridor they went, encountering a few Troells along the way which they quickly cut down. When they had found the stairwell and ascended to the level above they found themselves once again surrounded by spawn streaming toward the central part of the complex. Yet they left the mob almost as soon as they had joined it, for Meledrü led them down an oddly angled passageway into an oval chamber with a high ceiling. Here the Dwarves set to work searching the walls for the hidden catch which would open the secret door. Soon they had it and the portal was revealed to them.
      Into the dusty passage they went, closing the heavy stone door behind them. A set of stairs now spiraled upward for some way, and these they followed till their legs felt as though they would give out. They rested for a moment and drank sparingly of the small quantity of water which they had brought. Continuing on their way they eventually arrived at a landing with a stone door. The passage then continued spiraling upward, though the companions stopped here.
      ‘This should be it,’ said Meledrü. ‘This stairway appears to lead all the way to the Díoma at the top, but the ritual chamber should be on this level.’
      ‘This may make a good escape route, then,’ said Berethir. ‘That is, if any of us live to escape.’
      ‘Indeed,’ said Raavan. ‘We will definitely aim to meet here afterward. For now let us get into position for our attack. We have a few hours yet before the eclipse, and we must make good use of that time for planning. If I remember my lore, this Drátheome should have plenty of shadowy places for us to conceal ourselves till the moment arrives.’
      Drawing his now brightly-glowing sword Falco said ominously, ‘Athrónath pulses with energy.’
      ‘It knows that great evil is near,’ said Valainis.
      ‘No,’ said Falco. ‘More than that: it knows the very end is near—the ultimate fulfilment of its destiny.’