Free Greyfax Grimwald by Niel Hancock

the consuming blackness.
    “Open the door,” cried Dwarf. “Light, quickly.”
    Bear, returning just as Dwarf cried out, flung open the big kitchen entrance, flooding the room with a dazzling light that made Dwarf and Otter flinch. A hush fell over the three friends for a moment, and the dark shadow on Creddin’s breast sensed the light, ab sorbed it, and fled away into the brilliant rays of son that filled the room. Bear and Otter whimpered softly in the passing of life, rocking slowly from side to side and calling in their secret tongues, and Dwarf, in a voice he did not recognize as his own, hummed softly part of one of the old songs. For a moment, he thought it might have been his father, so deep and pure it was, but it passed, too, and silence returned.
    Deep below them, in ancient caverns and tunnels, where no sunlight ever delved, the ancient stones of Tubal Hall shuddered and moaned, and with the passing of their last master, a tremor shook the hall, grew into a long, shuddering roar, and the burial vaults and chambers of gold crumbled and fell, tun nels long unused collapsed, and as the three friends raced into the courtyard flooded with morning, great beams and rafters crashed down with plumes of dust and masonry, the four massive outer walls shivered as the ribs of the hall faded, and in a final, thundering noise, Tubal Hall crashed into a heap of stone and wood, treasure and treachery sleeping side by side in the dark past, now gone and sealed forever.
    Dwarf looked on the settling ruin in silence. Otter and Bear stood quietly a little way from him, and fi nally as it all grew clear in Dwarf’s mind, his small shoulders trembled and he let out a small sob of an guish and despair, and wept into his hands.
    After a time, the tears and grief left him, and he placed his torn hat firmly upon his head. The two animals thought he had grown older in the short space of time, and there was something different in his voice when he spoke.
    “Well, we’ve brought ruin and death here, but perhaps we can be forgiven in the end. I think Creddin has found his peace at any rate, and now my kindred can rest in their tombs avenged.”
    Dwarf looked back at the warm sun falling on the stark, broken hall, the cracked doorways and arches opening only onto the bright, clear sky beyond.
    “Now we must find a place that we may pass un noticed, I fear. I don’t know what I’ve led you into, but I feel somehow that today was only the be ginning.” Dwarf turned to his two friends. “And now Greyfax says that the River has closed and there would be no chance for you to return, at least not yet.”
    “I’ve seemed to remember something, Dwarf,” said Bear. “Not about anything here, but something in the fire that the wizard showed us. Exactly what keeps escaping me, but I’m sure it had something to do with why we came.”
    “Besides,” broke in Otter, “it’s plain we can’t go anywhere but on. I don’t much like these parts, and I’m afraid, but we’re amply in a tail-chasing circle, so let’s make the best of it we can.”
    “And it’s not your fault anyway, dear Dwarf. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been something else that brought us here. I’d already left my home when you found me. It’s almost as if we were wait ing for you.”
    “My old river was far away north, and I’d come that far alone,” added Otter. “So you see, all the ani mals and others were already moving, Dwarf. We couldn’t leave you alone now. Why, that would make us worse than old Creddin.” Catching himself, Otter continued. “I mean even the really good sometimes get into things that they can’t handle, and he’s all right now, I know. I wish we knew what we were supposed to do.” Otter sat down heavily at Bear’s great hindpaws.
    “I guess we must first find shelter, and carry on like before,” Dwarf declared, standing a little straighten “I don’t know what we’re to do, but any thing is a start.” And turning