Braun’s eyes suddenly focused. He shoved Drakis away, knelt down, and jammed the end of his staff into the stone of the ledge, sweat pouring down his face. The terrible cries of the dying on the ledge below him receded farther from his mind as he connected with other thoughts. . other powers.
“So we rescue our brother warriors. . then where do we go?” Thuri gripped his four blades in his hands once more.
“Does it matter?” Drakis shouted, drawing his own short sword. “We’ve come this far. . how can the day get any worse?”
The air twisted in on itself, then suddenly tore apart. ChuKang did not wait to see what was on the other side. He shouted, and everyone jumped through the opening just as the outcropping crumbled beneath their feet, eaten from under them by the continuing stream of lava.
They emerged in chaos.
The fold collapsus behind them, but the sound was swallowed in the cacophony of battle that raged before them.
“By the gods!” ChuKang roared. “Where are we now?”
KriChan turned on Braun, grabbing the edges of his breastplate with both fists. “Where have you taken us? Where are Jerakh and the rest of the Centurai?”
“I. . I don’t. .”
“Why did you bring us here?” KriChan shouted in the Proxi’s face.
“Not me!” Braun yelled back at the manticore. “I didn’t bring us anywhere! It’s the Tribune. . he’s the one who determines where the folds connect, not me! He sent us here!”
KriChan shoved Braun to the ground, his lips curling up around his fangs in disgust.
“Wait!” Drakis shouted above the noise. “I know where we are! This is it. . the Ninth Throne of the Dwarves!”
Every available Cohort from almost two full Legions-perhaps six thousand warriors in all-had folded into the room just ahead of them, a charging army of warriors who could smell impending victory in the air and taste the final fall of the dwarven kingdoms. Their influx gushed into the vast space as though they were a torrent from a swollen river, flooding into the rotunda and the last stand of dwarven might.
The elite Warriors of the Ninth Throne were there to meet them, their axes already wet with the blood of their enemies. This was the last throne, where all of the dwarven kings came to council with one another. It was the most honored place in all the Nine Kingdoms under the mountain and home of the greatest of the dwarven kings-whose name was not known.
“What about Jerakh and the rest of our Centurai?” KriChan swore. “Damn the Tribune!”
“Or may the gods bless him,” ChuKang replied. “Braun?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“You say the Tribune knew about Jerakh and the rest of our warriors?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Then he’ll bargain for another Proxi to get to them and bring them here,” ChuKang said. “The Tribune wants us in on the end-wants a prize that will bring honor to our House. That’s why we came!”
Five notes. . Five notes. .