“Fortuna!” Donal said under his breath, making the word a curse. Then he brandished his great sword and leaped into the open shouting a war cry. Kenneth was instantly at his back and Wiz stumbled in behind them.
Now goblins are powerful creatures, crafty, patient and fierce. But they are also also excitable and given to panic if things go wrong. Goblin attacks are legendary, but so are goblin routs.
These goblins were already in a bad way. Their citadel was besieged by powerful magic. Their last orders were to stay on guard, but those had come hours ago and they had had no word from their officers or the wizards they served since. They were on edge from hours of waiting and when three screaming humans burst into their guardroom in the wake of a mysterious light, they did what came naturally to their goblin natures. They panicked and ran.
“Son of a bitch,” Wiz breathed as the clatter and shouting of the departing goblins died away.
“I told you you would need us, Lord,” Donal said as he looked up the tunnel after the goblins.
Kenneth merely scowled. “They will be back soon enough. And others with them. Let us not be here when they return.”
“Right,” Wiz said. Already the golden ball was disappearing out the door the goblins had taken. “Come on then.”
If the tunnel had been convoluted before, now it became positively mazy. Every few yards there was another branching and never were there fewer than four ways to go. At times even the seeker hesitated before plunging off down one or the other of the passages. Wiz’s sense of direction, never his strong point, was completely befuddled. It seemed they had walked for a mile at least, all of it over rough, slippery ground that always sloped up, down or to the side, and sometimes several ways together.
Finally they came to a place where a fresh fall of dirt and rocks blocked most of the passage. The ball did not hesitate. It floated to the top of the tunnel and vanished in the crevice between the debris and the ceiling. That left Wiz and his companions in darkness except for the faint glow coming through the crack.
“It doesn’t look very big,” Donal said, eyeing the crack doubtfully.
“The spell does know enough not to go where a man may not follow?” Kenneth asked.
“Well, ah . . .” Wiz realized he hadn’t thought of that. “Come on, let’s see if we can get through.”
He scrambled up the mound of loose earth and tried to wedge his body through. His arms and head went in easily enough, but his torso went only halfway. He tried to back out but with his arms extended in front, he couldn’t get any purchase. He kicked his legs and tried to writhe his body from side to side, but only succeeded in getting a mouthful of the fetid dirt.
“Help me out of here,” he called as he twisted his head to one side and spat out the foul-tasting earth.
Donal and Kenneth each grabbed a leg and tugged strongly. Wiz slid out, still spitting dirt.
“Gah!” He wiped his tongue on the inside of his tunic. “No good. We’ll have to dig.”
Kenneth muttered a comment about half-something spells. Wiz ignored him and picked up his staff. “backslashlightexe “ he commanded, pointing the staff down the corridor. At once everything let up with eerie blue light. Then Wiz turned to work on the blockage.
They had no shovel, so at first Wiz threw dirt back between his legs like a dog. Then Kenneth took off his helm and passed it up to use as a scoop. When they came to rocks too large for Wiz to move by himself, Donal squeezed into the tunnel beside him to help. All the while Kenneth stood guard with his bow at the ready, looking nervously down the way they had come.
“I think it’s big enough,” Wiz said at last, panting from the exercise. “Let me check.”
As he moved to climb back up the dirt pile, Donal caught his arm and shook his head. “Bal-Simba said to take care of you, Lord. I’ll go first.”