me.” The dwarf grunted, pulling the cloak tightly around
his shoulders. “Almost did for me, too, but I was lucky.
Damn lucky.”
I eyed him for a few moments. “You want him.”
Orun was silent for a moment more, then slowly
turned around and grinned at me in a dark way, almost
shyly. “Sure do,” he said, eyes like arrow slits in a fortress.
“Want ‘im bad. He killed some good friends o’ mine. My
fault, really. I know how y’feel. You want to get your
claws ’round his scrawny neck and squeeze his life out,
make ‘im feel what you felt. That right?”
I said nothing.
He grinned more broadly. “Well, you miss ‘im, and I’ll
finish it for you. Lookin’ forward to it. Our boy’s been a
busy little runt, killin’ everything he can find. Got it in for
everyone, like the rest o’ ‘is folk. Thinks he’s a bad boy.
But he won’t like seein’ you and me together.”
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” I asked.
The dwarf looked me over in silence, then snorted as if
he’d heard a bad joke. “You want me to be afraid there,
dead boy? I’ll tell you somethin’. In the war, my
commander got ‘imself killed by a draconian, sivak type.
They’re the big silver ones what change their shapes when
they kill someone, so they look like what they just killed.
You heard ’bout ’em?”
I remembered sivaks very well from the war. “Yes.”
“I saw the killin’, but I wasn’t in a way to do anythin’
’bout it right then and there. Had to travel with ‘im for two
days, pretendin’ he was my friend, all the time knowin’ he
was gonna turn on me and my buddies and kill us off or
take us to an ambush. Got some help in time, though, and
we cut that reptile boy down to gully dwarf meat. You
may be a dead boy, but after that sivak, nothin’ much ever
gets to me.”
The dwarf clapped his hands together, then went to get
his axe. “‘Sides, like I said, you probably leadin’ me right
to Garith. Gonna be like a family reunion.” He lifted the
axe to gaze down the blade. “I been dyin’ to see the boy.
Like as not, he’ll be dyin’ too – after he sees me.”
*****
Evening came at last. We stopped once more for Orun
to rest, then moved on as the sun went down. I told Orun
about my “cousins, my uncle, my life, and my death. He
walked silently as he listened, asking few questions. I
talked until I knew of nothing more to say.
At dusk, my awareness of my murderer’s location
arose in my consciousness as comfortably as if it had
never left. He was still heading for Twisting Creek, but
we were much closer to him now. He’d make it to town
before morning, but we’d not be far behind him. His speed
picked up as the evening deepened, and so did mine – and
I was faster, even with Orun.
By noon the next day, we were just two hours outside of
Twisting Creek. There we stopped at an abandoned
farmhouse, one I knew had belonged to a couple who had
moved away during the war. The log-and-stone home was
overgrown with vines and had been boarded up, but it still
appeared to be in good shape. It took only moments to
break inside. There Orun slept until early evening. I knew
we could afford the break. I wanted Orun in good shape
when we found the Theiwar. Orun awoke “ready to do
business.”
“Wish I knew what spells he’s been collectin’,” Orun
said for the third time later that evening. The whetstone in
his hand made a soft grinding sound as he touched up the
blade of his axe. “Garith could turn invisible, hypnotize
folks with colors, and make light shine. And make poison
gas, which he probably used on them hobs. But he knew
lots more than that.” He held up his axe and examined it in
the dim light coming through the cracks in the shuttered
windows. “Damn, I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ him.”
Orun ransacked the house while I waited for my