“It doesn’t have a beard so I am guessing it’s you,” she said. Her giggle was on the verge of hysteria.
Boreas and Karnea emerged. Shortly thereafter something bumped down the shaft. Boreas muttered thanks and he realised that the dwarves must have lowered his hammer on a rope and then given it to him. He wished they had thought about that before his axe had almost gotten him stuck in the shaft. It was too late to bring it up now. He would remember such a thing in the future, if he had one.
Once again the everglow lantern was revealed and Kormak saw that he was standing in a low rough-hewn corridor. He could see water gurgling away near his feet. It was brownish and foul-smelling and he wondered where it came from and where it was going to.
Ferik said, “We must go slowly and quietly now. We are coming to the heart of Graghur’s realm.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
THEY FOLLOWED THE evil-smelling stream along the tunnel. With every step the foul stench grew increasingly strong, a stomach-churning mix of sour milk, sulphur and strange alchemicals. Karnea raised her hand to her mouth. Sasha covered the lower part of her face with a scarf. Boreas contented himself with wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes.
Kormak’s heart beat faster. They were within the core of their enemy’s realm now. He had no idea where his blade was to be found. He was going to have to trust to the dwarves’ senses and his own wits. It seemed only logical that either Utti or Graghur would now have the blade. Of course, they were both likely to be surrounded by goblin guards.
And if that were not bad enough, the Old One would be invincible if Kormak could not get his hands on his blade. He told himself that was not true—Graghur could still be hurt by normal weapons, possibly even temporarily stopped if his head were chopped off or a dagger driven into his heart. He just could not be killed. He would just have to do what he could, with the weapons that he had. If the Old One had his blade and could be overcome even temporarily, Kormak could finish the fight.
“Why are you grinning, Guardian?” Karnea asked him.
“I was thinking about Graghur.”
“I hope you never think about me that way. You look like a man contemplating murder.”
“I am contemplating killing.”
“You enjoy it, don’t you?” Karnea said. Kormak considered her words. He wanted Graghur dead and he wanted his blade back. Would he take pleasure in slaying Graghur? If he was honest with himself, the answer was yes. “I do,” he said.
“You are a born killer.”
Kormak shook his head. “No more than any other man. I was trained to it and I am good at it. Over the years I have acquired a taste for it. You would too if you lived my life.”
“I doubt it,” she said. She sounded quite certain of that.
They emerged into a vast chamber and it became obvious what the source of the smell was. Huge pits had been dug from the ground, and they were filled to overflowing with the brownish fluid. Looking into the nearest, Kormak could see a massive shape writhing and twitching as though in troubled sleep. It resembled a goblin grown to four times its normal size with a lower body something like that of a horse.
“This is where Graghur breeds his hybrids,” Karnea said.
“This is where the Slitherer and Yellow Eye and those other monsters were birthed. Some of these creatures will be soldiers in Graghur’s army. Others will be unleashed into the Underhalls,” said Ferik.
Boreas looked at the monster and said, “Ugly beast. This Graghur must be a dark and terrible wizard.”
“He is a Shaper,” said Karnea. “Many of the Old Ones were. They could bend the stuff of life to their will, father new races, create monsters, change living things into new forms.”
Ferik asked her to translate and then nodded. “They say that, in ancient times, he and the Mother were rivals in the art. This was one of the reasons for the bitterness of their hatred. Some say they were lovers and that their love turned sour.”
“I do not think the Old Ones know love as we do,” said Kormak.
“They certainly understand hatred,” said Ferik.
“I am not sure they feel any emotions we would understand,” said Kormak.
“The same could be said of man and dwarf.”
“There are words for love and hate and fear in both our languages,” said Karnea.
“The Eldrim have those words too.”
“Can we be sure they mean the same things to each of us? Your eyes are different from ours. You may have no words for certain colours we can see. How can I be certain those words describe the same thing?”
“This is all very fascinating,” said Kormak, “but it takes us no closer to reclaiming my blade.”