Is he dead? Juhg wondered, holding his own breath while he listened for Craugh to draw a breath.

"It's all right, Juhg." In the darkness, the Grandmagister's voice was calm and comforting. Even dweller vision was useless in complete darkness. Here there were no stars to light the way. "He's still with us. Craugh is too arrogant and too stubborn to leave us like this."

As if to underscore the Grandmagister's words, Craugh drew a deep, shaky breath.

"When he falls," the Grandmagister said in a soft voice, "Craugh will fall in battle. Against someone or something much more devious and dangerous than he is. For now, he only sleeps."

The clanking Juhg had heard earlier came closer. Then pale golden light came down the stairs above. As the sound filled the stairwell, Juhg recognized the noise as armor clanking just before a dozen dwarves followed a Librarian into the area. Half of the dwarves carried lanterns.

"Grandmagister!" the Librarian squealed in delight. "The Old Ones be praised! I felt certain that ... that..."

"That I might not be here, First Librarian Whimplo?" The Grandmagister stood.

Whimplo frowned and licked his lips nervously, obviously at a loss as to how to answer the question. He was plump and out of breath, and Juhg was certain the dwarves had pushed him hard in their efforts to locate the Grandmagister.

One of the dwarves jostled Whimplo to one side. "Aye, Gran'magister. Varrowyn, why, he's worried that ye might not still be with us after this last bit of carnage."

The lantern the dwarf held played the golden light over his face. The illumination revealed the blood spatters and scratches that adorned his features under his helm. He held his battle-axe in his other hand. Notches showed in the keen-edged blade.

The Grandmagister remained with Craugh, holding the wizard's head in his lap. "What of the Dread Riders and the Grymmlings?"

"Gone." The dwarf shrugged and his battered armor clanked. "Most of 'em anyway."

"And the Librarians?"

The dwarf bowed his head. "We got what we could of 'em out, Gran'magister. But fer some of 'em..." He shook his head.

"I'm sure," the Grandmagister said in a forced voice, "that you did all you could."

"Aye. That we did. Only wish it could have been more." The dwarf looked at Craugh. "We can fix a litter, carry him on up if ye want."

"No. When Craugh is ready, he'll walk out of this place on his own. He would not suffer getting carried out in any degree of weakness." The Grandmagister smiled a little, though the effort was strained. "He's very vain about his appearance."

The look on the dwarven warrior's face showed plainly that he didn't believe it. "If ye says so, Gran'magister, but I was thinkin' a bed an' a warm hearth might be more..."

"I do say so."

"Of course, Gran'magister."

The Grandmagister looked at Juhg. "First Level Librarian, I want you to stay with Craugh. Until he's able to walk. I'll not have him wake with no friend around him. He's done that often enough while trying to help this place and his friends."

Juhg wanted to say no. He wasn't part of the Library any more. Nor did he feel particularly close to Craugh. Also, Juhg didn't want to remain down in the depths of the Library. Some of the Dread Riders and Grymmlings yet remained.

And the darkness, with the Knucklebones Mountains piled so high and deep around him, reminded Juhg entirely too much of the goblinkin mines. It reminded him of how powerless and weak he had been during those times.

But he said, "Of course, Grandmagister," because there was no other answer he could give.

The Grandmagister took his robe off, carefully using it to make a pillow beneath Craugh's head. He took a moment to pick up the wizard's staff and hat and laid those items close at hand.

"I'll ask you to assign two of your warriors to stay down here," the Grandmagister said to the dwarven leader. "To stand guard."

The dwarf pointed at two warriors. The dwarves stepped away from the group and took up positions.

The Grandmagister looked at Juhg. "When Craugh is ready, accompany him up. I only hope he will understand why I am not here."

"He'll understand, Grandmagister," Juhg said. Overcome by everything he'd been through, he sat with his back against the wall, which allowed him to look in both directions. He sat quietly, listening to the falling stones shifting throughout the Library, and watched as the Grandmagister walked away.

Craugh slept, his chest rising and falling in the dim glow of the lanterns.

Juhg looked at the dwarven warrior closest to him. "How bad is it?" he asked.

The dwarf gave Juhg a haunted look. "Plenty bad. Bad as I've ever seen. Got dead strung all through the halls. A lot of 'em's Grymmlings an' Dread Riders, but we left plenty of ours among 'em." He shook his shaggy head. "This here place, why, after today it's filled with blood that'll never come out of this stone."

The imagery made Juhg shiver. "I'm sorry for your losses."

The dwarf nodded. "We all lost today."

17.

The Account The sound of footsteps woke Juhg.

Panic flared to life within him as the two dwarven warriors shifted. As one, they stepped into the shadows of the stairwell. Only then did Juhg notice that the lanterns they had placed on the floor had gotten positioned with deliberate care to illuminate the stairs in both directions and allow them hiding places in the shadows.

The dwarves lifted their weapons. Juhg knew that only from the sounds, and only then because he knew the dwarves would only move for that reason.

The footsteps halted. The distinct sound of metal scraping leather echoed into the empty silence of the stairwell.

"Juhg," a voice whispered.

Recognizing the familiar voice, Juhg smiled and said, "Raisho?"

"Aye. Tell them dwarves what's down there that ye know me afore they get too anxious. Tell 'em Varrowyn passed me on down."

Forcing himself to a standing position, feeling the pain and agony that accompanied that effort, Juhg said, "He's a friend."

"Tell him to come on ahead," one of the dwarves said.

Juhg still didn't know the names of either dwarven warrior who guarded him. "You heard him, Raisho."

"Aye. That I did. Just ye keep in mind that I ain't comin' empty-handed. I'm bringin' a basket of victuals. Weren't so much dust a-hangin' in the air down here, why, ye'd probably have smelt it long before ye heard me."

Despite all he'd been through and everything he had seen, Juhg was surprised to find he was hungry. Thirst he'd acknowledged some time ago, before he'd somehow dropped off to sleep. Even in the mines, he'd maintained something of an appetite. He supposed after all those years the feeling was more survival instinct than anything else.

Raisho stepped into the soft golden glow of the lanterns. He carried his sword in one hand and a small lantern in the other.

The dwarves revealed themselves, stepping from the darkness.

"Varrowyn yet lives?" one of the dwarves asked.

Nodding, Raisho said, "Aye. From the looks of him, he's a right enough hard one to kill. An' looks like plenty tried him tonight. He's shed some blood, probably more of someone else's than his own, but he's upright an' in charge of the Library's defenses."

"Where's the food ye was talkin' of?" one of them asked.

Raisho sheathed his blade, then reached around for the burgeoning backpack he'd carried down. "Knew I'd be feedin' dwarves. Brought enough to feed a small army." He grinned and drew himself up to his full height. "Or a short army at the least."

"Human." One of the dwarves jerked a thumb at Raisho as he talked to the other. "All that extra room from the neck up is just wasted space."

Grinning at them, Raisho knelt and opened the pack like a merchanter revealing his wares. "I'll be sure to mention that to the wizard when he wakes. If'n he don't remember it all on his own. In me travels, I've seen men what could remember somethin' said around them while they slept." He shrugged good-naturedly. "An' a wizard? Somebody like Craugh? Why, I bet he'd come closer to rememberin' somethin' like that more'n anybody I've ever seen."

The dwarves exchanged nervous scowls.

Raisho spread a feast across the landing, setting it all on a thin woolen blanket he'd brought, leaving the items on the cheesecloth wrappings. Fruits, breads, cheeses, and smoked meats emerged from the pack. He added two skins, one of water and one of wine.

The dwarves, one at a time, helped themselves.

Juhg took a square of cheesecloth Raisho had unwrapped from a loaf of dill limebread and cut portions of meats and cheeses, added fruits and sections of bread, and wrapped the food. He placed the makeshift bag back in the pack.

"For Craugh," Juhg explained. "For when he wakes."

"Ye'll eat, too," Raisho said. "I didn't trek all the way up the Knucklebones, survive a handful of battles, an' descend into the bowels of the earth in the middle of the night just to feed a couple of thankless dwarves."

The dwarves offered unkind and cutting remarks.

"Raisho," Juhg admonished, "these warriors fought long and hard. Don't speak ill of them."

"Aye." Raisho looked at the dwarves and nodded. "I know that they did. We all did."

"We?" Juhg repeated.

"Aye." Raisho cut a slice of limebread, covered it with firepepper cheese and topped that with a wedge of puckerpear so green and tart it would have dried the mouth all on its own. "Them Dread Riders an' Grymmlings spilled down the Knucklebones, Juhg. They met the rescuers what come up the mountains to help out. Several of them would-be rescuers was caught unawares. I hadn't seen the bodies ahead of me, I'd probably have gotten caught standin' still meownself."

Juhg tried to digest that. "How bad is it?"

Raisho's eyes showed a haunting pain. "Bad enough, scribbler. Bad enough so that ever'body what took part in them battles ain't gonna ever forget what they seen an' done up here in these mountains."

"How many came?"

Hesitating, Raisho said, "Enough. Enough to get the job done." He paused. "Most couldn't believe the bell was ringin'. Nobody ever heard it ring afore."

"Were the Dread Riders and Grymmlings stopped before they reached the town?"

"Aye. Dead in their tracks, most of 'em. Heard there was more of 'em for a while, but they up an' disappeared." Raisho gestured to the food in Juhg's hand. "Eat. Gotta get yer strength back up. Got a lot to do around here."

Juhg took a bite of the sandwich. The combination of flavors filled his mouth but didn't take his attention away from the stories he knew Raisho had to tell.

Seated with his back to the wall, Juhg ate from the small store of food Raisho had forced on him while the young sailor talked. Eating, Juhg had learned, kept Raisho talking.

"I was in a tavern when I heard the bell," Raisho said. "At first, I didn't even know what it was I was hearin'. But the tavern keeper, he knew what it was an' he told ever'one." He hesitated. "I got to tell ye, not ever' person in that tavern took up arms to come a harin' up the Knucklebones to spend their blood protectin' the Library."

"No," Juhg said. "I don't think anyone here expected they would."

"Some of 'em, why, they didn't believe what they was hearin'. But others, now, why, they wanted no part of it. Took themselves off to their own ships an' homes an' such. Some was confused because they'd always been told danger would come from the Blood-Soaked Sea."

Raisho continued talking and serving Juhg food. The young sailor told stories of the action he'd seen, describing encounters between the elven warders and their animal companions and battles staged by the dwarves as they'd hacked their way up the Knucklebones to join their comrades as reinforcements. The Dread Riders and Grymmlings had spilled down the mountainside quickly, overtaking some of the Librarians and running headlong into the arriving rescuers.

There were no stirring tales of dwellers who had joined in the battles.

"For a time there," Raisho said, "it didn't look like the arrivals from Greydawn Moors would be enough to hold the Dread Riders and Grymmlings back. Looked like the town was gonna get sacked. For ever' one that was killed, seemed like two come runnin' out of the Library to take the place of the last one." He tore a piece of limebread to pieces in his hands and ate a chunk. His eyes glazed over in memory. "They was about to overcome the line what held the mountain an' prevented 'em from goin' on down into Greydawn Moors. Then a fierce wind seemed to draw up from outta the Library an' pulled most of them back inside."

"That was Craugh," Juhg said. "He broke the spell. He thought the invaders would be drawn back to wherever they came from."

"Well, it didn't pull all of them back," Raisho said. "But them what was left, why, they put up a decent enough fight, but they couldn't stand. Them elven warders, they didn't come up the mountain to get defeated. Fightin' fair ain't something they believe in, not like for a dwarf. For them elves, it's all about survival. An' dwarves? Why, they won't back down from nothin'."

"That's why dwarves were asked to provide protection for the Library," one of the dwarven warriors said with a trace of pride.

"Aye," Raisho said. "An' I'll grant ye that, right enough. But there's also a reason why so few dwarves sign up aboard pirate ships in the Blood-Soaked Sea. That's for the humans what's sworn to protect the Library. We all got our battlefields."

"How badly damaged is the Library?" Juhg asked.

Raisho looked down at the rubble that had partially filled the stairwell below. "Like that. An' worse. Don't know how big the Library is 'cause I ain't ever been here afore tonight, but from what I've seen, aye, it's been damaged all over. Above ground and below."

Juhg couldn't believe that. Images of the Library lying in ruins filled his head, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that they were true. The Library had been built to last forever.

No, he corrected himself. That is incorrect thinking. The Vault of All Known Knowledge was built to last long enough to give its treasures back to the world. That's all. It was only meant as a repository, not a permanent place.

But Grandmagister Lamplighter hadn't felt that way.

"Did you see the Grandmagister?" Juhg asked.

"Aye." Raisho nibbled at a bit of sweet honeydew cheese crusted in crushed walnuts and olives. "Talked to him meownself. Let him know I was plannin' on lookin' ye up, makin' sure ye was all right. It was him assigned a Librarian to guide me till I could find me own way."

"The Grandmagister was all right?"

"Seemed to be. Worn an' a little ragged, mayhap. He was organizin' salvage parties when I left him."

"'Salvage parties'?"

"To get them what survived up outta the Library. Some of 'em got trapped in places when the mountain come apart. An' they're savin' the books, of course. Gettin' all them books up outta places is harder than bringin' up Librarians an' dwarves."

Removing so many books from the Library, Juhg thought, will be an awesome task. But where will they all be kept?