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  Jets of dust, stone, and debris clogged the air around Durin as he retreated. Shouts and screams pounded against his hearing while the deep bass of grinding stone made his bones tremble. What little natural light that reached this area was soon extinguished. Seeking fresh air, Durin moved deeper and deeper into the hold, back toward the kitchens and forge. Little fresh air was to be found.

  Within the kitchens, what was usually orderly chaos was now true chaos. Fire clogged the air with smoke. Normally the kitchens where completely isolated from the great fire; the stone of the ovens formed the outer wall of the great hearth and were thus heated. Durin watched as people tried to guide the wounded around burning sacks of flour, overturned tables, and slippery puddles marking where canisters had broken. Of course, they were unlikely to find safety in the halls. The cooler air of the halls drew the smoke and fed the flames.

  "Stay low!" Miss Mariss shouted above the terrible clamor. "Don't breathe the smoke! Get Millie out of here, and get me more water!"

  Despite the fact that the dust had chased him deeper into the keep, Durin turned to go back, knowing the best thing he could do was listen to Miss Mariss. Staying low, below the growing layer of smoke that rolled along the tunnel ceiling, he moved as quickly as he could. From the darkness came Bradley, covered in dirt and grime, only his eyes clear of debris. "Go back," he coughed.

  "But Miss Mariss needs water."

  "Can't get there anymore. The way's block and the air is clogged with dust."

  Durin heeded Bradley's warning; the young guard had always looked after Durin's and Sinjin's best interests. Seeing Bradley's distress, Durin grabbed his arm and draped it over his shoulder. "Come on. I'll help you." The fact that Bradley did not protest told Durin much, and he didn't like it one bit.

  "Smother the fire with your cloaks!" Bradley shouted into the kitchens.

  "I'm trying, you derned fool! Now help me! And where is that water?"

  "The halls are blocked, ma'am. We've no access to water."

  Had the kitchens not been burning, his statement might have brought some reaction, but instead people simply worked harder at putting out the flames. Osbourne and Brother Milo appeared moments later with buckets of water from the glass smithy. Osbourne was bleeding from a dozen places, and Brother Milo looked as if he'd been on fire. Again. Durin often wondered if the man's robes were made of tinder.

  A terrible howling came from above, breaking through all the other clatter and sending terror through the hold. There were monsters within Dragonhold.

  As people moved the wounded to the smithy, where the smoke had dissipated, Durin found himself wanting to do something, anything to help. His heart yearned to relieve some of the pain he saw around him or chase away the fear that permeated the hold. Demonic howls still resounded within the halls, and the sounds of battle were but distorted echoes made more frightening by their ambiguity. No one here could know what horrors were taking place within the rest of the hold.

  Once again, Durin drummed up the courage to speak. "Strom, I need to tell you something."

  The well-muscled smith ignored him. "Bradley, come with me. The rest of you, stay here and guard the wounded." Hammers swinging from metal rings on his belt, the smith moved with purpose.

  "But, Strom!" Durin did his best to interrupt.

  "Durin, keep your mouth shut and follow me. We might need your help."

  Swallowing hard, Durin just nodded and did as he was told. It was a strange feeling. He'd worked up the nerve to tell Strom what he'd done, but following the smith into battle against the demons was an entirely different thing. He envied Bradley, who, armed only with a short sword and a dragon scale shield, seemed to find confidence having Strom at his side, and the two looked like great heroes to Durin. The continued echoes of battle made his guts go watery, and he wanted nothing more than to hide.

  Near the great hall, Strom pulled a herald globe from the pocket of his leather vest. Ahead lay a mass of stone and rubble that blocked the hall. The ceiling had collapsed.

  "We need to get this cleared. Step back. I'm going to pull some of these large stones down."

  "Won't this make those around the hearth more vulnerable?" Bradley asked.

  Durin agreed with his assessment.

  "I'm going up there, but neither of you have to. Just help me clear a hole so I can get through. Then you two can fill the hole back up once I'm through."

  Durin suspected Bradley would have said something in response, but Strom didn't give him the chance. Instead he started digging his way through the shifting pile of stone. Bradley and Durin did what they could to keep the area behind Strom clear, so he had an open space to deposit the rocks he freed. Several times rocks tumbled into an open space he'd just cleared, and Bradley had to pull him out. With every stone that came free, the sounds of battle drew closer, and terror nearly paralyzed Durin, but something made him move, made him help Strom.

  Though he'd expected some sort of speech or announcement, Strom simply disappeared through the hole as soon as it was large enough. The big man was gone. Bradley did not look back to Durin or hesitate in any way; he followed Strom through the hole without a sound. A new battle cry filled the air beyond, and Durin's legs trembled. In that moment, though, his life changed forever. For once, he would not let fear hold him back from his true potential. Still, as he climbed through the hole, he asked himself, "What am I doing? This is crazy! What in the name of all that's good and right am I doing?" The last part became a scream as he tumbled down the loose rocks and directly into battle.

  Strom hadn't gotten far before two demons pushed him backward. Bradley charged forward and leveled a kick at one, but the heavily armored demon shrugged the blow aside, which sent Bradley stumbling toward more demons and a pair of giants. Durin could see that more were pouring into the hold, a small band of guards all that slowed their progress. From within that group came fire and lightning, and Durin hoped Catrin and Prios would save them all. With no more time for thought, he ran forward and did the only thing he could think of. He fell onto all fours and slid between Strom and his attackers. Strom continued to fall back, and the two demons' legs tangled when they tripped over Durin. It was all the break Strom needed, and he used his hammers to finish off the dark hulks.

  He looked terrifying to Durin as he rose and charged toward where Bradley was going down under a rain of blows. Again his battle cry filled the air, and this time, it was answered not only by the guards but also by Durin. Grabbing a gnarled, black staff from one of the dead demons, he charged behind Strom and landed blows on anything that moved. None of his strikes brought demons down, but they did distract, and that helped keep them off Strom. The smith's strength became apparent as he landed devastating blows with his hammers. Even when demons tried to grapple with him, he used his might and the skills Chase had taught him to send them tumbling into their brethren.

  There was a shift in the battle, as lightning crept closer and closer to where Strom, Bradley, and Durin fought. Blood ran down Bradley's face, but Strom pulled the young man behind him and took the brunt of the oncoming attacks. Bradley did not cower and hide, though. With another cry, he lashed out at any demons that came too close. Wielding his staff, Durin landed a solid blow on the kneecap of a nearby demon.

  Movement brought Durin to full attention. For the first time, a demon looked him in the eye. It grinned at him, showing black gums and holes where teeth were missing. Nothing had ever frightened Durin more than that grin. The smell of the demon's breath alone was enough to send a man running.

  Durin swung his staff, but the demon easily stepped aside. Raising its angular mace, it looked one direction but stepped the other, catching Durin by surprise. Were it not for Bradley's dragon scale shield raised in his defense, Durin would have been dead. As it was, Bradley's defense was off balance, and both shield and mace struck Durin in the head, knocking him to the ground.

  Strom seemed to realize how futile this fight was, and he started
to push Durin and Bradley back toward the great hearth, but then he stopped. The guards were now accompanied by a hoard of people wielding anything they could find. Young and old, as ineffectual as they may be, they charged at the dark beasts. The demons seemed stunned when the people attacked; such ferocity was not to be expected from mothers and grandmothers and children, which made it all the more effective. The fact that Arghast warriors were dispersed throughout the crowd did not hurt either. Durin let out a cheer when he saw his own mother smack a demon in the face with a skillet. The victory was short lived as more demons rushed in, and he almost cried out as he saw people he knew go down. Durin could not bear to see his mother overrun, and he ran faster than he ever had before. Strom and Bradley matched his stride, and they bowled over the enemy.

  When the three met up with the mass of humanity, Durin went straight to his mother, who was bleeding from a cut on her brow.

  "Don't fuss over me," she insisted. "Teach those beasts some manners!"

  As if responding to her command, Prios let loose a series of thunderous blasts that shook the mighty pillars supporting the great hall.

  "From where did you come?" Morif shouted.

  "From the great hearth! The way is still mostly blocked, but we can get through given time."

  Durin guessed that Morif would try to direct them back toward the partially blocked hall, but for the moment, he called for a full retreat.

  With four demons holding the chains around each of their necks, a pair of giants lumbered to the fore, and no one could stand before them. Those who tried were tossed aside or crushed underfoot. Durin's mother had recovered enough to stand, and she launched her skillet at the nearest giant. It struck the hulking beast in the shin, and it let out a terrible bellow. It shook the hall, dancing on one foot for a moment. Then the giant looked down at the petite woman and charged. Defiant, the tiny woman shook her fist at him. Durin tried to get to her, but someone else grabbed her and pulled her back before the giant could retaliate.

  Prios launched balls of shimmering air at the giants' heads, and they exploded with thunderous claps. The giants raised chained arms to cover their ears, dragging the demons holding the chains into the air. Again Prios attacked. Seemingly driven to madness by the massive thunderclaps, the giants turned on their captors. Using the chains that had bound them more in spirit than in body, they swept the demons aside in their attempt to escape Prios.

  "Now! To the hearth!" Morif yelled.

  Chase, Strom, Morif, and Bradley ushered the crowd toward the halls. Demons still attacked, but they were far less organized, and the group made progress across the giant mosaic that covered the floor of the great hall. Durin found his mother, supported her, and helped her through.

  "One at a time!" he shouted after helping his mother. "I'll help you. Just don't push and shove!"

  "Do as he says!" Morif barked, and Durin felt a rare moment of pride. It didn't last. The rocks beneath him shifted and moved, and he went tumbling, smacking his head as he fell. Determined, he climbed back up and did what he could to help people through. It was a time-consuming process, which left Prios, Chase, Strom, Morif, and a few others to hold off the demons. From the sounds of the fighting, the demons had regained their strength and were attacking once again in full force, though Durin did not see any giants.

  When the last helpless person was through, Durin turned back to those who stood and fought. "They're all through! How are we going to get the rest of you through?"

  "Go!" Morif ordered.

  Durin hesitated. He could not leave these brave men to die, and he knew they would not be able to get through without someone protecting them. Then Prios turned, his face bloodied and bruised, and with a finger, he issued a single silent command: Go! Durin did as he said, though he lost his balance and slid through to the other side when the booming started. Like the beat of an enormous drum, the thunder rattled Dragonhold to its core. Scrambling, Durin did his best to get clear as more men followed him through.

  With each new face, he looked for Chase or Morif or Prios, but only the faces of guards came through. When Kendra and her mother emerged, Durin took a step backward and lowered his eyes, not wanting a confrontation with Kendra. He stopped for a moment and looked again, his gut telling him something was not as it should be. He had no more time to think about it as Chase fell through the hole, and Durin joined the men who moved to pull him free. Morif came moments later, but Prios did not come. The thunder continued and grew more intense. Rocks slid as the vibration caused them to settle into gaps.

  Morif would not let the guards pull him free. Instead he climbed back up and stuck his head through the hole. "Now, Prios! Make a run for it! I'll pull you through!"

  In the next instant, the thunder stopped, and in its place came the most terrible battle cry Durin had ever heard. Morif jerked upright as he pulled, but then he was thrust forward and began to disappear back into the hole. Durin tried to get to him, but a mass of guards rushed in to grab Morif by the ankles. The guards suddenly flew backward, and Morif came sliding through, bouncing roughly across the stones. "Let go!" he cried. "Let me go!"

  The guards released his legs and he climbed, but a single thunderclap, far louder than all that had come before it, sent everyone tumbling backward again. Morif immediately pulled himself up and charged back through the hole. Moments later he reappeared, dragging the still form of Prios. For a moment it seemed they were safe until dark forms filled the gap and the silence shattered.

  Chapter 12

  The most dangerous mistakes are those you don't realize you've made.

  --Enoch Giest