CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO

CORBAN

Corban looked up at the hole in the tunnel’s roof. A thick root had bored through, earth falling away to form a ledge and, from there, a twisting passage to Drassil.

They were gathered in a huddle, drinking from a water skin, gasping and sweating from the long run through the stifling tunnels. Haelan had led them unerringly through the maze of passages, though Corban had lost all track of time.

“Well, that was quicker than before,” Cywen said.

“We didn’t get lost this time,” Haelan said. “Just had to follow the stones, and stay away from the tunnels with two stones before them. And we ran all the way instead of creeping.”

Farrell grunted in disgust.

“Are we waiting here for a reason?” Brina snapped. “Hoping some draigs might join us, perhaps?”

And with that they were climbing up into the hole. Coralen clambered up first, helping to lift Haelan and Pots and Shadow, the rest of them hauling themselves up, climbing towards the grey light that glowed above. Storm was the last one up, her bulk squeezing through the hole, dislodging a cascade of dirt.

“This is it,” Cywen said, pointing as they joined her. “That light leads to the courtyard.”

“Haelan, you wait for us here with Pots and Shadow,” Corban said. He held Haelan’s gaze. “No following, on your oath.”

Haelan frowned. “My oath,” he grudgingly said.

“Right then,” Brina said. “Let’s do this.”

Cywen thought the healer looked scared, just for a moment.

Cywen climbed from the hole into the courtyard first, Corban after her. It was still daylight, and the sun beginning its twilight descent. The courtyard was deserted, the sounds of battle a distant boom and thunder, like the sea battering upon the cliffs of Dun Carreg. Quietly the others emerged into the still courtyard. Haelan’s pale face stared out at them from the hole beneath the oak tree, Pots and Shadow with him.

“Thank you,” Corban said to him, crouching down. “We are here so quickly because of you.”

Haelan grinned.

“One of us will come and get you when we’re done,” Corban said and rose.

If any of us can.

There was a flutter of wings from above.

“All Treasures in big room with tree,” Craf squawked, flapping down to them.

“Even the starstone torc?” Corban asked.

“Yes, torc there,” Craf confirmed. “And cauldron, spear, axe and cup.”

Corban touched the dagger sheathed at his waist and the necklace in his pocket.

They shared a grim, silent look, and then moved swiftly and silently through a deserted Drassil.