Drakis stepped into a killing field.
The fold behind him collapsus into a thunderclap, the sound joining the rolling chorus of other booms that shook the enormous subterranean plaza as four more folds delivered their own warriors into the battle. More than three hundred Impress Warriors erupted into the square, pouring from their own folds at the base of an enormous, bas-relief covered wall and onto the plaza floor.
The enraged dwarves were already upon them. The Warriors of the Ninth Throne ran with incredible speed from the towering rotunda at the far end of the plaza, their bright-edged axes and swords swinging in their hands as they rushed headlong toward the Impress Warriors.
“They’re engaging us before we’ve formed up!” KriChan shouted.
“Timuran Centurai!” shouted ChuKang above the battle cries of the charging dwarves. “Battle line! Now!”
The manticores and chimera scrambled to find their places as they had practiced so often in the sunlit fields south of the shining towers of their home. . but the dwarves broke upon them in a mad fury, shattering the lines of the four Centurai in the hall before any of them were prepared. Mad dwarven warriors bowled heedlessly past enemies at hand, their eyes fixed on the First Octian of the Centurai.
Drakis glanced at ChuKang.
They’re after the captains, he thought.
ChuKang’s face broke into a vicious grin.
A hand fell on Drakis’ shoulder. Drakis spun about, his sword swinging up instinctively.
“Drakis. .”
It was Braun.
“I don’t feel. . well. .” Braun’s eyes were blinking furiously. “I’m seeing too much. . hearing too much. .”
No, not the captains, Drakis realized. It’s the Proxis the dwarves want. No Proxi, no fold. . no fold, no escape.
Drakis gripped Braun’s shoulder too hard, shouting words into his face in the hope that they might somehow be heard. “Braun! Stay near me! Understand?”
Braun grinned back in reply, his eyes unfocused.
Drakis turned back to face the onslaught, his voice breaking as he screamed the command. “Octian! Octian!”
Time slowed in his mind. The formation of the Centurai had dissolved completely into a sea of vicious, desperate combats.
He saw the face of GriChag glance in his direction, then turn to face a dwarf whose ax was trying to find the manticore’s knees.
Ethis took several steps backward, trying to join Drakis, but a berserk dwarf launched himself against the chimerian, dagger in hand.
The song overwhelmed the sound of death and steel.
Mountains of stone and of dead fell dreams. .