We advance into the corridor-grid cautiously. The flashes of dark seem to be concentrated at the heart of the city, where Nthazes must already be, yet a few also appear in other areas, which suggests that the darkness is seeking out other parts of the formation too—or maybe it's going after retreating deserters.

A few dead lie near the city entrance in bronze or steel armor. They must have been the first casualties of the battle. They are totally still, and as cold as the cold rock upon which they lie. Their weapons shine only dimly, and when Nightcutter comes near them, lose all glow entirely.

I aim to march forward until we are close to the rest of the army, and then divert. This seems the safest way to proceed. So, on we march.

With my current runic ears, far more sensitive than those I wore on my last trip down here, I can make out many small details on the carved buildings—details I couldn't make out with my eyes either back then, for the brightness. I begin to get a sense of what kind of creatures the makers of this place were, how they lived when the city was built, and how they used to live before that.

The backgrounds of the images, which looked plain and flat last time, I now hear to have tiny scratches in them. They are abstract, yet well carved, so I get the impression of leafy jungle canopies supported by tall, firm trunks and branches.

There are cavern backgrounds too, but in these, the four-legged things are less numerous, and seem less prosperous as well, their garments less ornate.

Their alien expressions, which I could only just make out back then, come to life. Nearly every creature seems downcast. The few carvings that show happiness show an austere kind, the happiness you feel when all is lost and you finally come to the final realization that nothing, in the end, really matters anymore.

It makes me shudder. That's nearly how I felt in Vanerak's realm, after the torture of Pellas. The carvers have captured the feeling perfectly, and the stone brings long suppressed memories back to the surface. They've captured the power of their sorcerers perfectly, too—the creatures that hold orbs and staves seem to shiver with the arcane. They were a people on the brink, yes, but still a powerful people.

The glow of the army ahead brightens. Nightcutter is already sapping some of it—although my eyes are closed to its light and dark, I can feel cold hunger through my palms. I don't want to risk weakening the back ranks of the main force, so I decide that it's time to turn away.

I lead the force to the left. Once I judge we've gone far enough, I make another turn. Along the alley we go, until we reach the wider road that circles around the labyrinth. I recognize the wall. It carries a sense of thickness about it. This isn't simply a wall, but armor. I've crafted enough that I can tell, even if this armor is composed from stone rather than metal.

Up high, windows are set. I recognize these well too. Windows not to see out of, though—not for light, but for darkness. Created to allow the sorcerer's power out.

"Keep an ear out on those," I say quietly, pointing. "If the darkness comes, it'll likely come from them."

My dwarves nod—they know that our success will, in some part, rely on stealth. We can't draw too much of the sorcerer's attention. If all the force of dark was turned on us, we would be overwhelmed.

Around we go, searching for some way in through the walls. But there seems to be none. The designers of the labyrinth intended for there to be one way in and one way out. After a while, I see brightness ahead again. We've circled the whole heart of the city.

"Can you not smash your way in with your maces?" asks Alae. "I know you runeknights don't like to use your weapons for breaking stone, but if the situation demands it, why not?"

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"I would order that, but the stone is too thick. It's armor. It'd take an army of miners many days to even begin making a scratch."

"Surely your weapons are more powerful than picks."

"Yes, but even so, we won't be able to get through. There's no weak points. It's all perfectly preserved."

"It can't be. After so long holding up the whole underworld above, there'll be cracks somewhere."

"If the guildmaster hasn't noticed any," Ithis says, "there aren't any. His ears are a hundred times better than yours, human. You've had to keep a hand on the wall this whole time to guide you."

"Very well, Ithis," says Alae. "I'll be quiet then."

"Wait," I say. "Wait. I have an idea. Silence, all of you. I need to check something. Don't even breathe."

They go still and silent. I approach the wall, turn, and lean my head sideways so that my right runic ear makes contact with the stone. I carefully remove the left and hand it to the nearest runeknight.

I tap Nightcutter to the wall. Behind the keening sound of the metal, there is a deeper vibration. This is the sound in the stone. It sounds solid, like armor, yet just like any armor, there are gaps. Cracks where time is beginning to slowly win out against the monster-masons of untold ages ago.

None of the cracks here are quite wide enough. But somewhere else, they might be.

"Alae is right," I say, pullling away from the wall. "We might be able to break through. There's a chance, at least. We will double-back, and I will check at intervals. And I'll remind you all that even though she's a human, she's still part of the force, and twice as clever as most of you. Treat her with at least a little dignity."

They murmur assent.

"You might have given that speech a little sooner," Alae whispers.

"They'll respect you enough when they see your spell. Be patient."

A few minutes' march later, I halt the force and place my right ear against the wall again. I tap. A few dozen yards down the wall, there's a promising disruption in the notes. Cracks—minute and thin, they haven't yet found their way to the surface. Left alone they might, in several thousand years.

I move up to them and listen again. Yes, there's potential here. I look up. Just above them is one of the small square windows.

"Come closer to me," I order. "Gather around—good. Now, Ugyok and Rtayor, start battering. I'll tell you to stop in a few minutes so I can check."

The two ex-Salamander Coats seem somewhat reluctant.

"This isn't mining. This fortress is the enemy's armor. Your weapons are not to be like picks, but like battering rams. Now, put them to use."

"Yes, guildmaster!" they say, and begin to strike.

Outwardly, it seems as if their blows are having no effect. The sound of metal on stone shivers through the air, yet it seems as if most of the violence is being done to their weapons rather than the wall. I'm hopeful, though, that the cracks within will soon come to the surface, which is starting to become scratched.

"Halt," I order. "Let me check."

I call for silence, remove my left ear, set the right one against the scratched surface. I tap with Nightcutter. I grin. It's working. The cracking within has worsened threefold. A few more minutes of attacking, and the surface should begin to show real damage.

"You two next. Strike!"

They get to work. A crunch sounds, and a speck of gravel falls from the wall. More come, and then there's a cracking noise. The stone has split.

"Step back. Ithis, you next. Smash it!"

"With pleasure, Runeforger!"

He steps forward and lifts his bright hammer high. He swings—the stone shakes when it hits. The cracks expand. One shoots right up to the corner of the window above. Dust trickles down. Ithis laughs, smashes again, and then once more. Thin plates of stone fall away and shatter around him.

Hayhek is next. He concentrates on the center of the damage, and gets nearly halfway through. I have three at once go next—the broken part of the wall is wide enough for this. The damage worsens further. I don't need to bother checking with my ears against the wall anymore. It's clear that we'll soon be through.

Smash and crack! I wish I had some kind of hammer or war-pick of my own on me. This kind of mining is nothing shameful. It's fighting, not digging. We're tearing apart the armor of the darkness and soon we'll be through to pierce its heart.

A large chunk of stone falls away. From the sound it makes as it parts, I can tell that behind is the last layer of wall, thin and fragile as a clay plate. I nod to Ithis. He can have the final honor.

I shine Nightcutter up through the window above. It won't stop the darkness getting out, of course, since light must be used like a weapon to have any effect, yet I'll be able to feel if it comes. I don't think it's here yet, or surely it'd have tried to stop us breaking its fortress, but it never hurts to be cautious.

"Now!" I command.

Ithis holds his hammer like a battering ram. He swings it back, then forward, all his armored weight behind the blow. The stone comes apart.

Cold silence bursts out, subsuming us all like a tide of deathly water.

The darkness was waiting for us.

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