Vanerak holds up his hand to halt us. The dwarf in armor like frozen silver fire makes no move and says nothing. He is too far away for me to make out the runes on his plate, yet they are strong. His armor radiates power—power I recognize as being that of true metal.

  My grip on Life-Ripper tightens. I estimate this foe, if he is indeed our foe, to be at least as strong as a Runethane.

  “Form a double-line,” Vanerak orders.

  We step into formation. Halax and Helzar flank Vanerak. Nazak stands behind him at the center of the second line; I am beside Nazak.

  “Advance slowly,” Vanerak orders.

  We do so. Our armored footsteps echo softer than usual off the black stone carvings on the walls. Light is provided by heavy crystal chandeliers hanging over the stairs in two rows, and their glow is bright white even after a hundred thousand years. They are not daycrystals, nor any other kind of crystal I have seen before. They are perfect clear globes.

  The dwarf in silver still makes no move, still does not speak. Could he be a statue? Or dead?

  No. He reaches out with his right gauntlet. It glitters in colors I have seen from no metal, colors I have never seen from anything. He opens his palm. A mirage of heat bursts from it and soars toward Vanerak, who cuts. The mirage vanishes. The dust on the stairs parts from the force of the true tungsten pollaxe.

  “Stop there,” says the dwarf. “Cease your advance.”

  “Do not cease!” Vanerak orders us.

  We do not even slow. The dwarf unleashes another mirage—a demon, he is unleashing demons—which Vanerak cuts down as easily as he's cut down all the rest.

  “Cease your advance, interlopers!” orders the dwarf. His voice is like the peal of many high bells. “You are not to pass through this gate! You are not to gain entry here! I am the guardian of this place and you will not gain entry!”

  “We go where we like,” Vanerak says coldly. “You will not stop us. Step out of our way or I will slay you.”

  “You will not gain entry!” repeats the guardian in his voice like bells. “By divine order, leave this place!”

  He raises his right hand high. The light of the crystal chandeliers reflects on a long, snaking cable leading from his wrist to the left wall. The cable glitters in strange colors, then when the glitter reaches the guardian's gauntlet it explodes into bright color.

  A mirage envelops the guardian, a heat shimmer so violent it is as if he is inside a storm of rippling, flexing lenses. He snaps open his palm. Demons arc into the air and plummet down toward us.

  “Ready your weapons!” Nazak yells, needlessly. We have already raised them.

  I aim Life-Ripper. It is much harder to find a target in the open air than in the magma, for as heat-mirages the demons are half invisible. I stab and think I catch one. Heat showers me. The dwarf on my right is caught by two and falls, writhing. I could sweep the demons from him, save him, yet I have not come to help murderers.

  No one saved my guildmates. I wait a second; fire bursts from his visor. I ram Life-Ripper's reverse-spike into his breastplate with all my strength of both arms.

  There is resistance, then the metal gives and the true metal pierces through. I rip it out and blood runs and drips off, spatters on the second degree's tungsten plate.

  Quickly I look up. A demon is raging for me, clawing at my face with its heat. I break it apart. Through the vanishing mirage I see the fight raging around me. Flashes of light reflected from weapons are warped through the mirage-like demons. A runeknight bursts into flames and Helzar spears him through the heart. Nazak yells in rage and cuts down two demons in two blows.

  Vanerak and Halax are running up the stairs. The last of the demons is slain and Nazak orders us to follow. We run.

  My ruby burns. This is my chance! If this fight goes badly for Vanerak, I can finish him off then flee. Perhaps the dwarf in silver, if it survives the duel, will thank me—or if it sends more demons after me, I am confident that I can beat them. Perhaps over-confident.

  It's a gamble. Everything about this is. Attacking your allies in the middle of a desperate, uncertain battle—my actions verge on insane. I am taking a terrible risk. But my decision is made. Fear and doubt have vanished entirely. All I want is bloody revenge.

  The guardian unleashes another wave of demons. They flood down the steps in a tide of shimmering heat. Vanerak slashes a path through their center. The demons at the sides sweep around to envelop us from behind. I turn and rush down a few steps, stab, stab, rending two apart. Another soars at me. I slash Life-Ripper through it then lose my footing and tumble, crash down the black stone. My armor protects me from any damage and I hurry to get back up.

  I am behind everyone. I watch as their weapons flash in the bright light, slash apart the demons. Vanerak roars. They charge up. The guardian raises his right gauntlet once more but this time it does not glitter. There are no more demons to summon. Nazak yells a warcry, and his dwarves yell it too:

  “Dway nachroktey! Dway nachroktey!”

  “Death to the dwarf! Death to the dwarf!”

  The guardian draws a blade of bright red-violet; in the same movement he sweeps it out. Flames glitter along its edge and a line of cutting force is hurled at us. It shrieks like something alive and rage-filled.

  Vanerak meets it with his own strike. Sparks fly from the axe-side of his pollaxe. The line bends around, shatters. The force of its shattering knocks several dwarves from their feet. I rush to the nearest.

  He reaches up, as if expecting me to pull him to his feet.

  “Murderer!” I spit, and drive Life-Ripper's reverse-spike through his left eye hole. He dies instantly; his hand falls down.

  “The traitor!” yells one of the runeknights nearby Nazak. “He's—”

  “Possessed!” I scream back. “He was possessed!”

  Nazak turns to me. I think he does not believe my excuse. He raises his axe and buckler.

  In the same moment, the guardian unleashes another line of force. Vanerak is thrown from his feet—a Runethane, thrown down! The guardian unleashes another. It cuts into Helzar's armor, throws her over too. Halax ducks. It continues down the steps and slashes the second degrees deep, bringing forth sparks and multiple screams of rent metal and pain. It hits Nazak also, stumbles him.

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  I charge to meet him. He yells in rage and lifts his axe high.

  “Murderer!” I scream. “Murderer!”

  He leaps down the stairs, swinging his axe to cleave my head. Life-Ripper catches it between its tines. The shock of impact is brutal, nearly jolts my weapon from my hands. Sparks spiral out in patterns.

  I twist. Nazak falls rather than lose his weapon and rolls down the steps, using the momentum to rip it free. I charge after him, strike with Life-Ripper's thorns. He parries deftly with his buckler. I scrape my thorns along it, drawing deep scratches.

  “Traitor scum!” he screams. He batters Life-Ripper out the way, stands, lunges into range with his axe. I can't let that true metal blade touch me—so I throw myself at him shoulder-first. His axe only glances slightly before I impact him with full force. It is like impacting a wall, yet my armor gives me the force of a raging river of molten stone. We fall together, tumble heavily down the stairs.

  He grabs hold of me as we roll. I knee him with all my might, and it has no effect. He elbows me and I feel my armor dent; his plate is better than mine. Life-Ripper is what gives me my chance. I have to get back, make distance.

  Our tumble slows. He maintains his grip on me and punches with his shield. Sparks fly from my helm and my vision blurs for an instant. Our tumble stops, and he is astride me. He swings his axe down. I block it with my forearm. It rends partway through my armor, and one of its thorns stings. The pain feels very distant. I let go of Life-Ripper and grab the haft of his axe tight. He grunts and slams me in the face with the edge of his shield again. The impact is hard, but not enough to break my focus. I grab the haft of his axe with my other hand, and twist, wrench it from his grasp and fling it back down the stairs.

  I reach for my own weapon. He slams me in the head again, and the impact makes everything hazy for a moment. He batters again and my helm dents. Everything rings and the pain makes me nauseous.

  But I can still think. I angle my feet against one of the steps, and push with all my might, twisting my body at the same time. The sudden surge of movement takes him off-guard. We tumble for a second time, and this time I manage to kick him away before he can get a grasp on me. I halt my fall with desperate flailing, rush up a few steps to grab Life-Ripper.

  I glance at the battle with the guardian. Vanerak and Halax are engaging him in close-melee, but they are too far away for me to see who is winning. Helzar and a two second degrees are running up to support. The two other remaining second degrees are charging down at me.

  I turn back. Nazak is hurrying to retrieve his axe. He is quite far down. I rush the two second degrees.

  “He's possessed, you fools!" I yell. "Possessed!”

  One of them slows, hesitates. The other sees through my lie and stabs with a thorned spear. I parry with Life-Ripper and stab at his faceplate. He flinches back. I batter his gauntlets, drag the thorns over them. One thorn catches and I pull him off balance. He misses his footing on the steps and falls. I stab with Life-Ripper's reverse spike and impale the back of his left thigh an inch. He screams in pain.

  I stab again, half an inch through the back of his shoulder. His comrade, an axe-wielder, charges for me. I parry and side-step, let him trip over his fellow. But he manages to regain his balance. Nazak joins him.

  “Traitorous scum!” Nazak hisses. “Traitor to the last!”

  “Murderer!” I shout. “You slaughtered my guild. Killed my friends, my guildmaster. This is revenge!”

  “Harborers of a traitor!” he yells back. “They deserved death! You were never to be forgiven!”

  The third runeknight tries to get to his feet. I am too quick for him, and too accurate as well. Life-Ripper's point penetrates the right side of his helm. I feel the impact of bone, and though his helm is too well-made of me to get right through, it is still a brutal wound. He falls.

  “Die!” Nazak screams.

  He slashes at me. The second degree does too. Their blows are quick blurs, but this is my preferred range, and I am above them too. I step back and parry, knocking both weapons aside with one blow. I stab at the second degree twice in quick succession, drive him back.

  To fight with a spear again, against a dwarf in armor! I have not done so since those days before the dragonhunt: instructing Guthah and Pellas, training with Braztak, Jerat, Mulkath, Faltast. I recall happier times in the guildhall, drinking and talking, and then wandering around town from pub to pub.

  My ruby fills me with furious vigor. I rake Life-Ripper's thorns across the second degree's armor, then spin the weapon around. Nazak tries to close in, and I ward him off with a solid strike that pierces through the center of his buckler. He cries out—I've cut his hand.

  The second degree steps to the side, then charges. I feint at his face, stab into his foot. His charge is halted and he falls. I end him with a stab to the back of the neck right at the point two armor-plates overlap. Blood fountains.

  Nazak screams in rage and runs up at me. I drive down. He parries with his buckler, then ducks low and hooks his axe around the back of my foot. I let him pull me down and use the momentum to drive Life-Ripper into his gut-plate.

  It impacts hard but does not penetrate. I stab again, at his eye, and he parries with his bloodied buckler. I free my foot, kick him away. He manages to balance on the steps and swings at me with an overhead blow. I bat it away, flip Life-Ripper around. He tries to sidestep my next attack, but I follow him with the twin-tips and strike another hard blow into his gut-plate.

  Life-Ripper shivers in my hands as one of its points sticks into a key rune, which cracks apart. There is a red flash. Power unravels and the tungsten dulls. Nazak curses and strikes away Life-Ripper with his buckler. He charges, cleaving at my side. The blow is too fast—I see that I can't dodge.

  I move sideways to lessen its impact as much as I can. There is a crack and a burst of white sparks. I feel metal against my side and thorns pierce my skin. I yell in pain. He draws his axe back. I smash my helm into his. He reels away. I reverse Life-Ripper and stab. He tries to block with his buckler, but I am just a touch to fast.

  Life-Ripper punches through his damaged gut-plate. He gasps in shock. I spin Life-Ripper, sweep his ankle and he falls down a dozen steps before coming to a heavy, clattering halt.

  I let him stagger to his feet. He is clutching at his belly. No blood is dripping out. Since I stabbed diagonal-down, it will mostly be pooling inside him.

  “Traitor!” he gasps.

  “You massacred a guild of fellow runeknights of Allabrast.”

  “Helpers of a traitor.”

  “They abided by a judgment decided by Runeking Ulrike.”

  “My brothers—burned because of you!”

  I flinch. “I am sorry to hear that. My brother was killed too. All I did—was to get him back, you know.”

  “Nothing can bring back the dead.”

  “I didn't believe that he was dead, then. The black dragon lied to me.”

  “You were a fool to believe.”

  “I know. I have known for a long time. But I've done my penance for that particular foolishness. The black dragon is dead. I took my revenge. Just as I am doing now.”

  I spin Life-Ripper back around and stab with its double-tines. Nazak blocks, blocks again. I increase the pace of my strikes, lashing out three, four times a second. My side is burning but my ruby forces me to ignore the pain.

  My attacks start to get through. His armor screeches. He cries out in despair. His movements are weakening. He is tiring, the life running out of him.

  My thorns scratch apart the last power of his runes. His armor becomes too heavy for him and he sinks down. I spin Life-Ripper back around, stab with its single-point. He blocks feebly. I stab again, hit his shoulder. His axe-hand sinks. I feint at his face. He covers with his shield, and I sink Life-Ripper into his thigh. He groans. Arterial blood spurts from the wound.

  I hear a violent clang from behind and glance back. The fight against the guardian is continuing. Several runeknights are lying on the steps. No one is coming here—to turn away from such a deadly opponent could mean instant death.

  I hear a scraping sound and turn back to Nazak, who has managed to struggle to his feet. He drops his shield and moves his axe to that hand. He raises it.

  He was brave, I suppose. He led from the front. Wasn't afraid to put his neck out alongside those lower in degree. When he held me as Pellas was tortured, his grip wavered slightly.

  But in the end, he still chose to follow the orders of Vanerak.

  I let him make one last feeble slash at me, then stab to kill. Life-Ripper's true metal point pierces through his throat and out the back of his neck. He remains standing for an instant, then leans backward. Life-Ripper's point slides out with a metallic scrape. He falls and hits the black steps with a crash. His arms splay out behind him as he slides down a few feet.

  His axe remains in his hand.

  I watch him for a few moments, not quite able to believe what I've done, that I've just slain a runeknight of the first degree, but he remains absolutely still.

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