I I

Through her pet's eyes, Mama Freda watched the giant stride away. The other og'res fled from his path, a mix of fear and reverence commingled in their musk. Tikal chittered at the smell, his senses more acute than those of a man. Mama Freda waited until their large companion disappeared into the far crack; then, directing Tikal with her own desires, she studied the others.

She suspected they only understood a fraction of what had transpired, while she understood each word. The guttural tongue of these people was not unknown to her a knowledge she kept to herself. Their language was a mix of gesture, posture, and grunts, requiring both a keen eye and ear. Tikal had both.

Freda, would you like to rest? Jerrick asked, offering to guide her to a stone seat by the pile of logs and tinder. The d'warf Magnam began to light a fire. Jaston helped, shaving curls of wood from a branch to catch the flint's spark.

Mama Freda patted the elv'in captain's hand. I'm fine, Jerrick. Go see if you can dig out some bread and hard cheese. The others must be hungry. He did not budge. His blue eyes sparked with concern for her. Freda' ?

I'm fine, she said more strongly.

She recognized the worry in his hard gaze and sighed. She wished she had never confided in Jerrick about the weakness in her heart. But the pain that had woken her a few nights back had been impossible to hide. She had been forced to admit her secret. Even her herbs could no longer keep the pain at bay, but at least they continued to ease her breathing.

After learning of her ailment, Jerrick had been furious with her for undertaking this journey. But deep inside, Mama Freda knew she had no choice. For countless winters, she had been alone blind, disfigured, a foreigner among strangers. Only now, so late in her life, had she found someone to share her heart, as Tikal shared her senses. Bonded, one knowing the other. She would not spend her remaining time away from him. She gave his hand a squeeze of reassurance. Go help the others. He nodded and released her. She eyed him as he departed: his white hair tied back, his figure lean and still strong for his age. A smile traced her lips as she turned away. He doted on her like a mother wolf with a lame cub. And for some reason, after so many years as a healer, it felt good to have someone look after her.

She stepped toward the layered stones that marked off Tol'chuk's compound. Fardale guarded the entrance, but Freda aimed farther back, toward a cluster of og'res. She leaned heavily on her cane, appearing feeble, no threat to the og'res beyond the fence line.

The large og're named Hun'shwa stood with a clutch of others, all muscled and scarred. Hun'shwa glanced her way, but dismissed her not only a female, but a human, and an old, eyeless one at that.

She listened to their talk.

Do you balk? one of the others grunted to Hun'shwa. This fellow was the most gnarled og're she had ever seen, like the twisted stump of a tree. He wore a bit of wolfskin over one shoulder in a half cloak.

Don't press me, Cray'nock, Hun'shwa growled.

You gave your word to the Ku'ukla clan. The stranger nodded to the flame-lit crack. That half-breed demon killed my brother. He lifted the edge of his wolfskin to bare the burned scar on his forearm.

Mama Freda saw that the design didn't match the clan markings here.

I know what I swore to the Ku'ukla, Hun'shwa grumbled angrily.

Cray'nock spat on the stone floor. Do not be fooled by his magick. He tricks you, weakens your heart with the shade of your son.

Hun'shwa turned to glare at the twisted og're. Do not mention my son again.

Cray'nock curled his nose, ignoring the threat. And what of the Triad? Do you truly believe evil was not involved with their deaths?

Hun'shwa lowered his voice. Their ghosts

The other og're spat again. Demon trickery. My brother's hunting mates spoke of how he called demons from the sky. What then is a bit of smoke and whispers? More trickery, I say.

Hun'shwa's stony face tightened with doubt.

Cray'nock pressed on. He killed your son. He murdered Fen'shwa.

Hun'shwa spun with a thunderous growl, but the other og're was already disappearing among his wolfskin-draped brothers.

Do not speak my son's name! Hun'shwa rumbled. I will not warn you again. Do not dare disturb his spirit!

Cray'nock spoke from among his brethren. You promised to bring the new Ku'ukla leader the head of that half-breed cur! I ask you again do you balk ?

Hun'shwa growled. I will think upon my words.

Cray'nock sneered. Think quickly, Hun'shwa or war will come to your caves. The mountains will run red with your clan's blood. This I swear! He turned away with the others, but not before one final jibe: And the Ku'ukla clan won't balk!

As the others left, Hun'shwa was left with a trio of his own warriors. What will you do? one of them asked.

Hun'shwa glanced to the crack in the back wall and sighed. I will make my decision by the time of the Assembly. If the Triad spoke truly, Tol'chuk must be protected.

And if it was a trick ?

Hun'shwa glowered. Then I will slay Tol'chuk on the steps of the Dragon. He swung away, waving toward the departing clutch of clansmen. Watch them.

Mama Freda leaned on her cane, considering the last words of the og're. It was a wise command. She eyed the departing members of the Ku'ukla clan. They did indeed bear watching. Something more was afoot than was plainly evident. Otherwise, why doubt what was witnessed here? The spiritual energies all but touched one's heart og're or not.

Deep down, Hun'shwa knew the truth. Though he hesitated in betraying his prior promise, she sensed he believed all that had transpired here. But as leader of this tribe, he also had to consider the threat of the Ku'ukla clan.

She studied the hostile group. They, too, had witnessed the miracle of the Triad's passing and a new spiritual leader being chosen, but they denied the truth. Why? Something was hidden here' something that needed the attention of a closer eye.

She reached to her shoulder and touched Tikal. Go, follow, she whispered, sending her desire directly into her sense-bonded companion. Do not be seen.

Tikal shivered, frightened to leave her side. His worries passed to her through their bonds. She stroked the tamrink's fiery mane. Follow them' but stay hidden and quiet.

Big goat sharp sharp. His eyes grew huge.

Yes, be careful. She touched Tikal's lips with a finger. And quiet.

Tikal trembled for a moment more, his eyes on the departing og'res. Then his tail tightened around her neck, embracing. With this short farewell, Tikal bounded from her shoulder and over the fence. He vanished in an instant into the shadows. Mama Freda remained with him, seeing through his eyes as he raced away, staying low, sticking to the darkest corners.

She startled as something touched her.

The fire's ready, Jerrick said at her shoulder. Come join us by the warmth.

Mama Freda did not resist this time. She leaned into her lover, letting him guide her. She feigned exhaustion, not blindness. While they walked toward a fire she could not see, her vision ran in shadows toward the cavern entrance. She remained silent about Tikal's mission. The cavern had many ears, and the acoustics were tricky. She would see what she could discover first.

Once near enough, she felt the glow of the fire and used her cane to guide her to a stone seat. Jerrick settled beside her. No one commented on the missing tamnnk. It wasn't unusual for Tikal to be off her shoulder and scrounging in dark corners.

She faced the fire, pretending to be basking in its warmth, while deep inside she chased a clutch of og'res out into the drizzling gloom, her eyes sharp, her ears keen to any threat, her nose tasting the musk of those she pursued. Soon Tikal edged close enough for her to hear their grumbled words.

All is ready? Cray'nock was asking.

The traps are set, assured the other.

Good. Cray'nock glanced back over a shoulder. Tikal dove behind a scrabbleberry bush. The og're sniffed at the air, eyeing the entrance to Toktala home cave. By nightfall, the entire Fang will be ours.

Tol'chuk waited for the last of the og'res to leave the Chamber of the Spirits. The laborers draped the last, limp form beside the other two, positioning cold palms down over the eyes of the dead. This was traditionally done to keep the spirits from attempting to reenter the bodies, but Tol'chuk knew such an act was unnecessary here. The Triad had been only too glad to shed the burden of flesh.

With their duty done, the bearers of the dead departed, leaving Tol'chuk alone with the corpses. He stared around the room. He had only been in here twice: during his naming ceremony and again when he had been a bearer of the dead, carrying Fen'shwa's limp body.

Tol'chuk turned in a slow circle. The sacred cavern was oval in shape with a bowled floor, like a bubble in the granite. A dozen torches lit the walls, hissing and flickering with blue flames. Shadows danced along the walls like the ghosts of the departed.

Tol'chuk ignored the display and faced the dark tunnel in the far wall. The path of the dead, he whispered. It led to the warren of rooms in which the Triad had lived for countless ages. Tol'chuk's grandfather's grandfather had bowed to the trio. Now they were gone. The torch had been passed.

Sighing, Tol'chuk crossed the chamber and unhooked one of the blue-flaming brands, accepting what he must do next: to follow the path of the dead to its end, where his journey first began. Once again he must face the Spirit Gate, the crystal heart of the mountain.

Biting back the fear in his heart, Tol'chuk passed under the arch of the tunnel and into the dark gloom beyond. He attempted to keep his mind empty, his worries at bay. He simply trudged onward, winding down into the silent nether regions of the og're lands.

He was no stranger here, so he was not dismayed when the roof of the passage lowered, forcing him to duck and bow. The air grew bitter with the scent of rock salt and crusted mold. He pressed onward.

Ahead the tunnel branched to the right and left. Which way? Instinctively he knew the answer. Reaching with his free hand, he removed the chunk of heartstone. He held it forward as he neared a pair of corridors and raised the jewel to both paths. It flared brighter when facing the left.

He went that way, trusting the stone to guide him to the Spirit Gate.

After an interminable time and a maze of intersecting passages, Tol'chuk noticed a new glow ahead: not the rose of heartstone, but green like luminescent pond scum.

Moving resolutely, Tol'chuk discovered the source. The tunnels here were covered with eyeless, thumb-long glowworms: floor, walls, and ceiling. They squirmed around and over each other, leaving shiny trails on the bare rock.

Tol'chuk grimaced. He had forgotten about these denizens of the deep cave. He continued onward, crushing them under his bare feet. He remembered Magnam's description of the creatures, how they always appeared whenever veins or deposits of heartstone were mined. Why they migrated here was not known.

Holding the Heart aloft, Tol'chuk continued down the passage. Soon the worms were so plentiful that the torch was no longer necessary. He abandoned the brand at a crossroad and continued with just the stone.

Tol'chuk forged on, his skin shining with sweat and worm slime. Just as he was sure he was lost in this warren of tunnels, the passage suddenly lifted from around his shoulders, opening into a gigantic vault.

Tol'chuk stopped at the entrance, straightening, staring across the space. He held the crystal Heart before him. As if the air were fresher here, the flame in the heartstone fanned brighter, and a brilliance burst out, illuminating every corner of the vaulted room.

Its radiance splashed up against the chamber's far wall and revealed what lay hidden there: an arch of pure heartstone. Its two pillars glinted in the wormlight, each jeweled facet on fire.

Tol'chuk shrank before its majesty, but he moved forward, still holding his stone aloft, shielding his eyes with the other hand.

Bathed in the light, Tol'chuk felt the now-familiar sense of peace and unity with all of life. He stood basking in the radiance for an unknown time.

Tol'chuk'

He startled in the empty room.

I i

Tol'chuk, listen to us.

Pulling his thoughts back to the world of worm and rock, he realized the words arose from the heartstone in his clawed grip. Again a dark mist rose from the stone and spread high, drifting toward the Spirit Gate. The cloud settled to a stop, swirling and churning before the massive arch.

We dare not cross over yet, the shades of the Triad whispered. Tol'chuk heard the longing in their words. There is something we must show you first.

The mist separated again into three parts. Each sailed to the stone floor and resumed the shape of a bent-backed og're. Approach the Spirit

Gate.

Tol'chuk hesitated. He had traveled through the arch once and was loath to do so again.

The closest shadow turned his way. The greenish glow of eyes stared back at him; Tol'chuk recognized the shine of the worms. Hadn't Mag-nam mentioned such a phenomenon? He remembered the d'warf's words: If you hang around the worms long enough, their glow creeps into your own eyes. Some say it lets you see not only this world but into the next' into

the future.

Staring at those eyes now, Tol'chuk did not doubt it.

Come, the figure whispered. For the first time, it sounded as if the words arose from this one individual rather than all three. It is time you learned the truth.

The other spirits drifted toward the arch, one toward each pillar. As they reached the gate's supports, each ghost disappeared into the stone, vanishing as they had done into the Heart earlier.

Tol'chuk remained alone with the last member of the Triad.

Across the room, a deep droning arose from the arch. As it grew louder, words could be heard ancient words chanted in a tongue Tol'chuk did not recognize. The intonation traveled up the pillars, and a new sound reverberated outward, as if the original prayer was being echoed by something more ancient than any language. The whole cavern rang with the sound. Tol'chuk's bones seemed to vibrate in tune.

The lone spirit spoke at his shoulder. It is the Voice of the Fang.

Tol'chuk glanced to the speaker. The misty figure had grown more substantial, seeming to draw strength from the noise itself.

The Land speaks through the mountain. The spirit pointed again to the arch.

As the droning grew in volume, the wall of granite framed by the heartstone arch began to shimmer in harmony with the Voice. What had once appeared to be a cliff of solid granite now seemed no more than a reflection in a pond that rippled with the droning call.

Even the air grew clearer in the chamber, as if an unfelt wind blew outward from the gate. Tol'chuk breathed deeply, filling his lungs. He felt energy spreading throughout his being. As it reached the hand holding the Heart of the Og'res, the stone flared brighter, vibrating in harmony with the Voice.

Tol'chuk's arm rose of its own bidding, and he felt the now-familiar tug upon his chest. Tol'chuk stepped toward the Spirit Gate, unable to stop himself. A flush of panic iced through him. Was he again doomed to pass through the Gate and be transported elsewhere? He resisted, struggling to control his limbs.

Do not fight it, the spirit whispered, trailing behind him.

What's happening? Tol'chuk squeaked out.

The Fang calls you. You cannot stop it.

The ghost was correct. Tol'chuk was drawn forward not under the Gate and beyond like before, but toward one of the two pillars. And with each step, the stone flared brighter, growing into a blinding star in his hand.

Sightless from the glare, Tol'chuk barely registered when he'd stopped. His arm stretched overhead, drawing his spine straighten He felt the Heart touch the arch, clicking into place; with its touch, he was released from the spell and tumbled backward.

Tol'chuk rubbed his arm. He spotted the Heart resting in a faceted cubby, like a key in a lock. It fit so seamlessly that it would have been impossible to discern if not for the blinding light coming from it.

The ghost spoke. The stone is the center of the Gate its heart, as much as our own.

The Voice of the Fang suddenly changed in pitch.

Now watch! the Triad ghost warned. Watch as the Gate is made whole.

The shine of the imbedded Heart flowed up into the arch, igniting the larger stone like fire set to oil. The blaze of brilliance swept up into the pillared column, traveling high over the arch, then diving back down the far leg.

As it hit the floor, the glow dimmed but did not stop!

Tol'chuk gasped.

The star of brilliance could be seen diving down through the floor,