The War of the Dwarves Read Free

the sky in horrified fascination, unable
     to move or look away. A few of the sentries, convinced that the sun had fallen from its cradle, banged their weapons against
     their shields to rouse the burning orb.
    In a shower of sparks, the shooting star sped toward them, screeching and thundering through the sky. Boëndal braced himself
     for the impact, but the comet swooped over the stronghold and disappeared beyond the mountains to the west.
    But the danger hadn’t passed.
    The tail of the comet blazed red in the sky, showering debris large enough to crush a human house. The dwarves heard a drawn-out
     whistle, then an ear-splitting bang. The ground shook and trembled like a frightened beast. Plumes of snow shot upward, looming
     like luminous towers in the dark night sky. The air hissed and angry clouds of moisture rose from the vaporizing snow. Thick
     white fog wrapped itself around Boëndal like a blindfold.
    “To the stronghold!” he commanded, realizing that watchtowers and battlements were no match for celestial might. “We’ll be
     safer inside!” Bracing himself against the brazier, he tried to get to his feet; a moment later, one of the sentries was beside
     him, pulling him up.
    Boëndal lost his bearings in the strange-smelling fog, but his companion knew the way without seeing. They ran, skidding and
     sliding every few paces until they resigned themselves to crawling and pulling themselves forward on their axes. “Quick, we
     need to…”
    Boëndal’s command was cut off by a droning from above. He knew exactly what it meant: The battlements were about to be hit
     by a volley of burning rock.
    There was no time to shout a warning. The fog had already turned a muddy orange, darkening to black-streaked red as an unbearable
     screeching filled the air.
    Vraccas protect us!
Boëndal closed his eyes as a gigantic slab of burning rock hurtled toward him. A moment later, it slammed into the solid
     stone walkway. Boëndal heard faint shrieks as dwarves in front of him tumbled to their deaths. He couldn’t see where the rock
     had landed because of the fog.
    “Turn back!” shouted Boëndal, crawling away from the shattered stone. Hampered by his injured back, he longed for his old
     agility. “To the northern walkway!”
    Flagstones quaked beneath their feet as the colossal towers swayed like reeds in the breeze. Cracks opened in the groaning
     masonry and sections of battlement plummeted to the ground.
    The bombardment continued as they hurried along the northern walkway to the highest tower. Skidding and sliding, they came
     to a halt at the bridge. The single-span arch construction was the only way into the kingdom and the safety of the firstling
     halls. Beneath the bridge was a yawning chasm, two hundred paces deep.
    A gusty wind swept the watchtowers, chasing away the mist. At last they could see the gates leading into the mountain—and
     safety.
    “Vraccas forfend!” cried one of the sentries, who had turned and was pointing back at the lifting mist.
    The fortifications of East Ironhald were in ruins.
    Only four of the nine towers were still standing; the rest had been crushed, toppled or flattened, leaving five rings of masonry
     protruding like rotten tooth stumps from the ground. The mighty ramparts, hewn from the mountain by dwarven masons, were riven
     with cracks wide enough for a band of trolls to breach the defenses with ease.
    “Keep moving!” Boëndal urged them. “You can worry about the ramparts as soon as we’ve got to safety. Walls can be rebuilt.”
    He and the others had barely set foot on the bridge when they heard a low rumbling like distant thunder. Then the earth moved
     again.
    The falling boulders from the comet’s tail had shaken the fortifications and caused the walkways to quake, but this time the
     tremor was deeper and more powerful, causing walls, towers, dwarves, peaks, and ridges to shudder and sway.
    The Red Range had stood firm for thousands of cycles, but