“Ethis! Megri!” Drakis called out.
The chimerian and the goblin both called out in ragged response, “Yes, Octis!”
“Each of you stand guard on opposite sides of the fold. TsuRag! GriChag!”
“Yes, Octis!”
“Keep your eyes on the dwarves coming up the hall! We’re leaving!”
ChuKang continued to call out the Octia. In quick succession each pulled back, running quickly through the black opening of the fold.
Drakis stared down the hall. The dwarves were running now, seeing that their enemy was trying to elude them. Their battle cries filled the hall, their blades flashing in the torchlight.
“Octian Two!” ChuKang shouted.
Jerakh and his warriors leaped up, dashed between the members of Drakis’ Octian and, without hesitation, jumped through the fold.
The dwarves shouted their rage in terrible chorus.
“That’s it!” ChuKang roared. “Fold out!”
Drakis turned toward the fold. Ethis and Megri had already jumped through. TsuRag and GriChag were following the captain, and KriChan as he watched. That only left. .
“Braun!” Drakis shouted.
The Proxi stood up. The Standard still emitted the magical Aether, holding the fold open, but Braun now held it casually in his hand.
“Let’s go!” Drakis barked.
Braun’s form was silhouetted against the bright hall. Beyond him, Drakis could clearly see the dwarven warriors less than a hundred feet away and getting closer with every thundering step.
Braun made no move.
“Braun!” Drakis shouted.
“It’s all right,” Braun replied, standing perfectly still. “You don’t see it, do you? The walls have all crumbled, and here-here in the darkness-the light comes at last!”
The dwarves cheered. Fifty more feet and their enemy’s blood would flow.
Braun smiled but made no move. “Do you see the picture? Do you hear the music?”
Nine notes. . Seven notes. .