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Dantane gasped when he saw what the walls had imprisoned. "Impossible," he said.

* * * * *

Laerin hauled Morgan to his feet. The rogue's boots skidded on a pile of bones. Morgan regained his footing and cursed a loud, long streak that echoed down the tunnel.

"See how you corrupt the children," Laerin tutted, shooting a wink at Talal.

Talal didn't share the humor. He was still on the ground, shards of broken bone digging into his knees.

"Where are we?" he asked. He dislodged an oblong skull from a pile. "What are all these?"

"Animal remains," Laerin surmised, taking the skull from him. "Wolves of great size. They all died here together."

"In pieces," Morgan said. His head perked up. "Quiet."

Talal listened and heard the echo of footsteps. Swiftly, Morgan picked up the remains of a battered rib cage and smashed it into the face of a Shadow Thief as he came around the corner.

The thief went down, and Morgan put his boot on the man's neck.

"Brittle pieces." Morgan sniffed. He cast away the shredded bone cage.

"Is he harmless?" Laerin asked. The squirming thief was trying to reach a dagger clipped in his boot.

Morgan pressed harder, until the man choked. "As kitten teats." he grinned.

"Let me talk to him." Laerin squatted next to the thief. "Where are the others?" he asked calmly.

"Your friends or mine?" the thief rasped. He spat blood in Laerin's face.

The half-elf wiped the dripping red trails. "This one's as lost as we are," he told Morgan. "Have you ever been down here before?" he asked the man.

"No," the thief said, for he couldn't shake his head under the weight of Morgan's boot. "We've never been in these tunnels."

"Think Meisha knows about this place?" Talal asked hopefully.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't wager on finding her soon," Morgan said, "if this place's as vast as it seems." He pointed to three tunnels splitting off the cavern, all stretching an indeterminate distance before branching again.

"We'd better start looking," Laerin said. "Let me scout ahead."

"What do we do with him?" Talal asked, indicating the thief.

"Trap trigger," Morgan said cheerfully. "We'll move faster that way, with him testing the path ahead of us."

"Clear," Laerin declared, trotting back up the passage. "Narrow, but more likely to be free of traps. These caves are buried too deep to be heavily protected."

"Cheerful thought for this one," said Morgan, dragging the Shadow Thief to his feet. He shone his last torch over the walls. "Not one of these tunnels looks to be sloping up. They're all going deeper underground. Anything look familiar?" he asked, nudging Talal.

Talal shook his head. "Where do you think the others are?" he asked, though he feared the answer. He'd seen Meisha fall down the chasm.

"Portals malfunction," said Laerin. "When that happens, they can deposit a person off the mark from where they intended to appear—a few feet, a mile . .."

"Into a wall," Morgan muttered, and Talal's heart wrenched.

Laerin squeezed his shoulder and sent Morgan a quelling glance. "The portal is old," he said, "but I believe it to be sound. We'll find them."

"I suppose more of them damn shadow mongrels got scattered about, too," said Morgan.

"That might be a blessing," said Laerin. "If they followed us and are separated, we may have a better chance of overcoming them. Speaking of which . . ." The half-elf drew his dagger and prodded the Shadow Thief in the back. "Hearty congratulations," he told the man, "you're taking point. Stray too far ahead and you'll find my blade between your shoulders."

The thief nodded curtly, and the group set off with him and Laerin leading.

The first tunnel bent to the right, then bent back on itself so sharply that the way was impassable for even Talal; they had to backtrack to the second tunnel.

Morgan made slash marks on the walls with a crusty piece of chalk to show where they'd been.

The center tunnel connected three larger chambers. A blackened firepit in the center of the first room suggested a kitchen; fragments of rotting wood might once have served as furniture.

"Living quarters," Laerin said. "If the Howlings did dwell all the way down here, they lived sparsely."

"The tunnel's are defensible," Morgan said. "Long bottlenecks, mazelike. And if the portal's the only way down, they can dig themselves in cozy if they have to."

"I have a hard time believing the dwarves would rely on magic alone to move them through the earth," said Laerin. "It's not their nature."

Talal gazed down the third tunnel. The passage spilled into a long, narrow chamber. Chipped and sheared stalagmites formed stone benches. A dozen men would have fit comfortably in the room, Talal thought, but the benches squatted close to the floor to accommodate shorter legs.

At the back of the room, situated in front of another tunnel, a wide altar rose up from the floor. Spiky writing was etched deep into the stone, but a crack cut a jagged line down the center of the monument.

Talal watched Morgan and Laerin examine the writing. The half-elf's lips moved as if he could read the words. His face creased in consternation.

"What does it say?" Talal asked.

The half-elf cocked his head. "The script is Dwarvish, of course. It's an altar to Abbathor, the dwarf god of greed."

Talal knew nothing of the dwarf gods, not enough to blaspheme them, anyway. He would have to ask Meisha about Abbathor.

The thought of the Harper sent an unexpected stab of pain through his chest. If she's alive, she's safer than you are, Talal told himself. He was the fool. He'd had the opportunity to escape and see daylight again, but he'd wasted it worrying over a fire-twisted Harper he barely knew.

His thoughts shattered when a sharp blow cuffed the side of his head.

"Watch him!" Laerin shouted, and the half-elf was suddenly in front of Talal, shielding him with his body.