Uncomfortable seconds become excruciating minutes. The Eye continues to stare down at our weapons. It's not seeing them like a dwarf's eye would, I don't think. It can see more. It can take in every rune at once and read the runic flow, see down to the tiniest imperfections in the welds and edges of the metalwork also.

Or perhaps it's not the Eye that can do this, but rather he who looks through it. A dwarf who has been forging for thousands of years.

Finally, Elanak lowers the sceptre. She stays still for a few seconds, totally unmoving, like a metal statue, and then speaks abruptly. Her voice is like the low thrum of great steel bell.

It is not really her speaking. That is clear to hear. It is the Runeking who speaks now.

"Guildmaster Nthazes, what is the name of your weapon?"

"I have not yet given it one, my Runeking," Nthazes replies, taking care with each and every word.

"Do you not plan to?"

"I do. In fact, I have one in mind, though I am not yet sure if it fits."

"I am interested to hear it."

"I have thought about calling it Sight-Bringer, my Runeking. You might think it a strange choice, considering what I have lost, yet I believe it appropriate. Though my vision has been burned away, my hope is that this weapon will restore light to the deep places below, and show clearly the nature of the enemy that we have lost so many to."

"That is indeed a strange choice of name."

"If it is not to your liking, my Runeking, I shall reconsider."

"No, you name your own crafts—do not try to choose names to please me. It is simply odd that you should focus on vision rather than destruction."

"That is why I do not quite know if it fits. But to me, it seems that the power in darkness is in how it cannot be known. That is what destroyed Runethane Yurok—he did not know its nature, and so saw its threat in every innocuous corner, and in the end, fear rendered him even more blind than I am. With Sight-Bringer, I will lay bare the source of the fear, and by doing so, eliminate it utterly."

I feel a lump form in my throat. To lose one's sight, and then to name your weapon for it—he makes his sacrifice part of his weapon. He makes his sacrifice part of himself. He has accepted it fully. Should I ever suffer such a blow, I do not know if I could do the same.

"An excellent answer," says Runeking Ulrike—it is still his voice coming from the helm of his servant. "And it is an excellent name also. You do my kingdom proud. It is you who will lead the main force, Guildmaster Nthazes. I have faith that you will destroy the foe. Once you have done so, I will pronounce you first-degree and welcome you into my Thanic Guard."

Nthazes is speechless for long moments. When he does answer, he sounds oddly subdued.

"Thank you, my Runeking. That would be a great honor."

Elanak turns next to Runethane Halmak and Elder Dolmak. "Your weapons are fine too," the Runeking says through her. "Runethane, you will march next to Guildmaster Nthazes as part of the main force. Dolmak, you will remain by the Shaft with a defensive force."

Dolmak gives a sharp nod of acknowledgement. Runethane Halmak, however, starts to tremble. His eyes become like glinting steel daggers. His right fist, on the table, begins to shiver, and his left clasps itself tightly around the handle of his weapon.

"What is the meaning of this?" he hisses. "I am the Runethane of this realm. The Runethane of Brightdeep, which I built up from almost nothing. Who are you to order me around?"

"I am your Runeking. Did I not say that I would speak through my servant here?"

This confirmation would cow anyone. Who would dare stand against their own Runeking? And yet, Runethane Halmak is not cowed. He does not flinch away, but gets to his feet. He hefts his mace as if readying to strike.

"We are not your servants, Runeking Ulrike! We agree to rule our realms in your stead, yet we are free to make and use them as we see fit! As if they are our own creations! Is that not the agreement you have with us, Runeking? Or are we to be like the servants of Runeking Uthrarzak, who may as well be his tools for the control he wields over them?"

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"We are at war. And while at war, I am your general. My Runethanes are free to build their realms as they wish, and craft their weapons and armor and amulets as they wish also. But within the battle-cavern, my orders are absolute. I see all and I control all."

"The war has not begun yet!"

"It has. It never ended, Runethane Halmak. It cooled, yet the sword of our contest is not yet finished. We will heat it once more. One final time. It may take ten thousand long-hours for the fighting to restart, or a hundred thousand, yet this quiet does not proclaim peace. It is the brief break as the two combatants step back to cool their muscles and reassess their strategies."

"Be that as it may, I am Runethane here, and it is my dwarves who will make up the majority of the force. Mine! I must lead them. I must!"

"No. Who rules is determined by the strength of his or her craft, Runethane Halmak, as you well know. Guildmaster Nthazes has proven himself a superior creator of weapons of light, and thus you will follow him."

Runethane Halmak makes to open his mouth again, but the Eye seems to glare for an instant.

"Do not argue with me," snaps the Runeking. "It has come time for me to take an active hand in affairs, and so I shall. You will march behind Guildmaster Nthazes. Is that understood?"

Runethane Halmak sinks back down into his chair, defeated. He nods.

"Answer me," demands the Runeking. "Speak."

"Yes," Halmak whispers. "I'll obey, of course."

"Good."

Elanak now turns to me. I brace myself for the words of the Runeking. I cannot help but feel that he is displeased.

"And now we must discuss your craft, Zathar Runeforger. Or rather, we must discuss your runes. It seems that I was mistaken when I judged that they were but alterations."

To my surprise, he does not sound angry, nor even disappointed.

"I have delved deeper into my abilities since the time we last spoke, my Runeking. I have created three new scripts: of ice, of magma, and now of light and dark."

"It seems that you are indeed the Runeforger, then. The Second Runeforger, an heir to the first."

"Yes. That is what my guild calls me, and also what I call myself."

"You court danger by this, Zathar."

"I suppose so, my Runeking. Yet danger tends to find me in any case, like it does all runeknights."

"For most, however, their crafts protect them from the danger. Your runes upon this weapon seek to put you and everyone around you at further risk."

Now comes the criticism. I must justify myself once more.

"Nightcutter is made to strike such lethal blows that there can be no counter to put us at risk. It outshines every weapon here, Runeking, as I'm sure your Eye can see, as can the eyes of your servant."

"That is a most risky way to fight, Zathar. Akin to striding into battle naked, trusting everything only to the blade in your hand. Even the dwarves of the dry caverns of the twin Runekings, who pride themselves on eschewing armor, wrap themselves in chains. Runethane Halmak is right to be concerned."

"My guild has accepted the risk."

"Yet the Guardians Against Darkness will not, and neither will the other guilds. That is why you will stay separate from them in the battle."

"Separate?" My skin goes cold. Is he going to send us away somewhere? "I'm afraid I don't quite understand, my Runeking."

"There is more than one way to get to the sorcerer, as I understand it. Nthazes will lead the main force, the vanguard. But you and your guild will be the flankers. You will attack from the side or rear, and you will shine your weapon's light upon the heart of the sorcerer's power."

Elanak points to the shattered glassy globe lying upon the table.

"I have heard tales of an ancient race our ancestors once did battle with. Even less numerous than the elves, they controlled myriad powers which they channeled through great gemstones. It seems that the sorcerer below is a surviving member of this people, though how it survived I do not know. Not a trace of them is meant to remain—yet one does. The reasons, however, are immaterial. Break the weapon it holds, and you break its power. That is all you have to concern yourself with."

A silence falls. For a second, all jealousy and enmity is forgotten as we stare into the shards. They are a relic from a time before runeknights, perhaps even from a time before dwarves.

Truly, time does not fully exist down in these black caves.

"Well, Zathar Runeforger? Can you accomplish this task?"

I avert my gaze from the shards to look into Elanak's visor. It is even more ornate than the rest of her armor, and the runes are too small to read.

Why us? Why give me such a dangerous task, though he recognizes me as Runeforger? Vanerak was so eager to keep me safe and imprisoned, yet Runeking Ulrike seems not to care whether I live or die. Does he really believe my runes to be of such little value?

But I can't complain. By sending me on this task, he honors my craft. I won't refuse—not that I could.

"Yes, my Runeking," I say. "I'll strike as you order—Nightcutter will put an end to this." I nod to Nthazes. "If Guildmaster Nthazes does not strike the sorcerer down dead before I get there, of course."

"We will see," whispers my friend—if he still is my friend.

"He is to have this honor?" Runethane Halmak whispers. "He?"

"I told you not to question my orders, Runethane."

"If he wields that weapon in the heart of the battle, we will be overwhelmed immediately!"

"I do not judge so. He will strike from a distance. Separated from his weapon, your maces of light should function as they were crafted to."

"It is too great a risk to have him near us. The course of a battle cannot be predicted. With all respect, my Runeking—I ask you to reconsider your decision."

Elanak's visor shivers slightly, the protrusions blurring as they vibrate in unhearable frequencies.

"The Runeking's decision is final," she says harshly, in her own voice. "He has given his orders and you are to obey them. Muster your forces. We march within the long-hour."

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