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  Horst looked up at Kay’il and frowned. “Gullicks,” he said.

  Immediately the eight Dygon Guards spread out, forming a perimeter around the group, their hands on their blades and their eyes scanning their surroundings.

  “How old?” Kay’il asked, his typically stoic face showing concern.

  Horst stood and he too looked worried. “Hard to say as it hasn’t snowed for four days. The wind flurries have impacted the tracks so they could be several days old, or several hours, I can’t tell.”

  Brant, noticing their concern, instinctively gripped his sword. “What is a gullick?”

  Everyone looked at him with surprise. It seemed again that his ignorance of the world was startlingly apparent. Cat saw his embarrassment turn to anger and she interjected before he could say anything. “They are giant white furred beasts, as tall as three men and as strong as six. They walk on short legs and they have two long, and very powerful, arms that hang down nearly to the ground.”

  “Do they have a weakness?” he asked.

  “They are not very smart,” Kivalla replied.

  “Unfortunately that is not a weakness. If they were intelligent, they might avoid us, knowing that eighteen armed warriors would be no easy prey,” Dayd added. “But their lack of intelligence allows them to make decisions based on instinct alone.”

  “Which means,” Corvin, another of the guards, continued, “that if they find us they will attack. Gullicks are very dangerous. Let us hope we can avoid them.”

  “Let’s get inside and get the Kul-brite,” Kay’il said. “Stay alert and be ready.”

  “Kay’il,” Jarak said. “Let us keep some men out here in case the beasts do appear. I’d hate to have us all blocked inside the cave with no way out.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kay’il replied. He ordered five of the guards to remain outside while Dayd and Horst lit the torches with their flint and steel.

  “My sister and I will stay here with Aldgar,” Orin said. “Our bows will be of more use in the open if the gullicks do show.”

  Serix looked at Jarak with concern but said nothing. It was obvious that he didn’t think it a good idea to leave Aldgar behind. The big Saricon saw the look, but said nothing, standing as still as a large statue.

  “Fine,” Jarak said. “Kay’il, lead the way.”

  They followed the Dygon Guards into the cave and Cat and Banrigar brought up the rear. Brant paused at the entrance. Cat turned when she sensed him stop, “What is it?”

  “This mine brings back memories I’d rather forget.”

  “I forgot. I’m sorry, Brant. Stay with the rest,” she suggested.

  Brant shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I don’t want to miss the fun.”

  Cat smiled. “The fun could be outside.”

  Returning her smile, he gestured for her to lead on. “Let’s go.”

  They quickly caught up to Banrigar, the torch in Cat’s hand lighting the way. The cave was big, nearly the height of two men, and once inside the snow gave way to a floor of dirt and stone crumbled to fine pebbles from the years of miners working the mines.

  “I hate being underground,” Banrigar mumbled as they moved deeper into the mountain.

  “I agree with that sentiment,” Cat whispered, as if a loud voice would bring the vast amounts of stone down on their heads.

  Brant said nothing as memories of his days in the mines rolled around in his head. The walls of the cave had clearly been worked with pick and hammer, and the memory of him wielding those same tools in the mines caused him to break into a cold sweat. He could almost smell the furnaces of the separation tents where the wardens smelted the Kul-brite ore, all the while hearing the grunts and groans of workers as their picks and hammers pounded into the stone walls.

  They came to a junction opening onto three more tunnels, and the guards led them to the left. They hadn’t gone far before the tunnel opened into a larger room filled with a collection of old mining equipment. “This was a storage room,” Horst explained. “But this is what we are looking for,” he added as he moved to a far wall and held his torch high so everyone could see what he was referring to. The other Dygon Guards were there and two of them placed their torches in brackets on opposite sides of an odd looking door, the likes of which Brant had never seen.

  The door, as well as the door frame, was made of steel and built right into the stone wall. There was no handle or any indication of a lock other than a hole surrounded in silver steel that sat dead center. “That is quite a door,” Brant said.

  “I’ve heard of them,” Jarak whispered, reaching up and touching the steel.

  “That is a Kul-brite door,” Kivalla said, joining the prince to inspect the piece of craftsmanship.

  “Are all the Kul-brite stores protected with such doors?” Banrigar asked.

  “They are,” Kay’il answered as he stepped before it.

  “Is the entire door Kul-brite?” Brant asked. “It doesn’t look it.”

  Kay’il was shaking his head. “No, the door is strong steel. But the locking mechanism and the lock itself are both Kul-brite, made by scion forgers. They are unbreakable.”

  “How do we open it?” Cat asked.

  Jarak and Kivalla had heard the stories and they stepped back as Kay’il drew his Kul-brite blade. “You are about to find out,” he said as he spun the blade around so the pommel was facing the door. Then he inched it closer and pushed the end into the hole. The handle went all the way in, stopping two fingers' width from the hilt. Everyone heard a click but nothing else happened. “Stand back,” he said, still gripping the crosspiece and standing to the side of the blade.

  They all backed up, and moments later his sword lit up with blue fire, casting flickering blue shadows across the stone walls behind them. So he could Fuse as well, Brant thought. He wondered how many of the other guards had that ability.

  Then, using the crosspiece, he turned the blade, the handle rotating slowly in the Kul-brite lock. It pivoted ninety degrees within the hole and was followed by another click. The heavy door slowly swung open, the flames disappearing from Kay'il's sword as he stepped back.

  “So that is a Kul-brite lock,” Serix said in awe.

  “They are impressive mechanisms. Only the sword of a Dygon Guard with the ability to Fuse can open one,” Kivalla explained.

  Kay’il opened the door and guided everyone inside the room. Cat and Endler both carried torches and their orange light shone upon six large chests that sat in the center of the room.

  “They aren’t even locked,” Endler noticed.

  “They wouldn’t need to be,” Horst answered. “No one, or no thing, could get past that door.”

  Dayd went to one of the chests and flipped back the lid, momentarily blinding everyone as the torch light reflected off the countless Kul-brite nuggets that filled the chest to the brim.

  Brant stepped back in shock. “Is each chest as full as this one?”

  “They are,” Dayd replied.

  “We will take three,” Jarak ordered. “Get them loaded up and relock the door. I long to leave the confines of these caves.”

  Brant couldn’t comprehend the value of that much Kul-brite steel. There were enough nuggets in this one room to buy a kingdom. Perhaps that is what Jarak has in mind, he thought.

  The steel was relatively light compared to other metals, which was one of its valuable properties. Two men could easily carry one chest, and it didn’t take them long to relock the door and carry the chests out of the cave complex.

  “Clouds are moving in,” Orin observed as everyone met at the entrance.

  Looking up, Brant saw that he was right. A heavy layer of dark clouds were drifting in, masking the blue sky that had been with them for days.

  “It’s near dark,” Kay’il added. “I recommend that we stay here for the night. If the weather turns, we will have to change our plans.”

  “How so?” Jarak asked.

  “The southern pass rises in elevation for several days bef
ore it drops quickly towards the north fork of the Pelm River. We don’t want to get stuck in the pass if the weather turns on us. The trail is dangerous as it is and should never be traversed during severe weather.”

  “What other options do we have?” Cat asked, standing next to Jarak.

  “There is a trail east of here that drops down to the foothills. If a storm does move in, we will be better off along this route as its lower in elevation. We will circumvent a number of mines and then head southwest to the where the Pelm River splits into its two forks.”

  “How much time will we lose along that route?” Jarak asked, clearly frustrated. Cat, sensing his rising frustration, put her hand on his arm to calm him.

  Kay’il shrugged. “Perhaps four days. But if we get caught at the peak of the southern pass in the middle of a storm, we will lose more than days. The trail is just too treacherous.”

  Jarak got his point. “Let us camp here tonight. Tomorrow, once we get a better idea of the impending weather, we will make a decision.”

  Kay’il nodded in agreement. “Very well.”

  Everyone helped out in preparing camp inside the cave entrance. A fire was lit and bedrolls were laid out. It wasn’t long before they were eating a welcome warm meal of salted beans mixed with chunks of cured ham, accompanied by a hard flat bread commonly eaten by the Legion. Having very little moisture allowed it to last a long time without spoiling, but also made it nearly impossible to eat without dipping it in a broth or stew. They each piled the warm beans on top of the bread and let the mixture soften it before consuming it with relish.

  An eerie howling in the distance caused everyone to look up from their plates, all except the Dygon Guards.

  “What is that sound?” Cat asked, pulling her cloak around her despite the warmth of the fire.

  “Winter nygs,” Dayd mumbled with his mouth full of beans.

  “Nygs can survive here?” Brant asked.

  Inen, a Dygon Guard with long dark unruly hair, interjected. “They are not the same nygs found on the steppe. They are bigger with thicker white fur. They survive here just fine.”

  “Bigger?” Brant asked, clearly amazed.

  “Have you seen many nygs?” Kivalla asked Brant, knowing they were quite rare.

  “Three ngys guarded me while I was a slave to the Schulg,” he replied. “They had been trained by my owner and were his pets.”

  Most of the members of the group knew that Brant was Ull Therm. A story like that did not stay untold. But no one had yet brought it up.

  “How long did you fight for them?” Kivalla asked, his interest piqued.

  “Nearly two years.”

  “With nygs watching you, how did you get away?” It was Corvin who spoke, shoveling the last of his food into his mouth.

  “I poisoned them.” He paused, but decided to offer no more. He looked into the fire, unable to keep his mind from drifting to unpleasant memories. The silence was heavy, like thick ice on a lake. But seeing that Brant didn’t want to talk about it, no one asked any further questions. A warm fire on a cold night had a way of encouraging introspection, and the group maintained the silence, occupied by their own thoughts, most likely wondering what future trials they would be facing.

  The morning came quickly and everyone was up early, anxious to be off. Stepping outside they saw that it had snowed a few inches. The clouds had thickened, tumultuous and dark, allowing not a speck of blue to peek through.

  Dayd looked at Kay’il, frowning and shaking his head. “I don’t like it. It’s getting worse.”

  “What do you think?” Jarak asked as he joined them.

  Kay’il was shaking his head. “I don’t think we should risk it.”

  Jarak sighed. “Very well. Lead us south then.”

  Kay’il nodded his head grimly and lifted his pack to his shoulders.

  Their descent down the mountain scarcely lasted an hour before they were attacked. Four huge forms erupted from the large snow drifts that had accumulated on either side of the trail, an explosion of snow, fur, and claws. Kay’il was leading, with Horse and Dayd just behind him. The gullicks had let the leaders get past them before they had sprung their trap, bursting from the snow and attacking the Dygon Guards behind them with such violent and powerful force that they didn’t have a chance.

  A massive arm as big as a man, with claws splayed wide, slammed into Inen's side, the force snapping his neck and breaking both his shoulder and collar bone before tossing him fifteen paces into the air. He landed in a heap, his head resting awkwardly against the snowbank. He hadn't even have time to draw his blade.

  Another gullick roared, its wide mouth agape with white teeth as long as daggers, its giant head held up by a thick neck that tapered to its muscle-bound neck. Its attack was equally ruthless, both huge fists crashing down upon a Dygon Guard’s head just as the warrior was drawing his blade. The beast, standing hip deep in the snow, was twice the height of a full-grown man. The blow of the creature's powerful fists crushed the warrior's head and hammered him to the ground as if he were but a nail. Two other guards had been brutally slain before the group was able to respond to the surprise attack, their blood splattering against the snow in crimson splashes.

  Two more gullicks attacked the rear of the column, leaping over huge boulders that were scattered on either side of the trail. There was not much room along the narrow path, as, over hundreds of years, rocks of all sizes had fallen and crumbled from the cliffs around them, rolling to rest along the valley floor where the snow and ice buried them beneath their freezing embrace. It was among these very rocks, surrounded and covered in snow, that the gullicks were able to hide, their white fur blending in perfectly with the surroundings.

  Serix was bringing up the rear with Endler, Brant, and Banrigar. Thinking fast, Serix pulled energy from Endler, who he knew would already be drawing it from the gullicks, while also bringing forth the energy from his tarnum. The spell was going to take him just a moment, but it was a moment he wasn’t sure he had.

  Endler felt Serix draw power from him and knew that he would need time. After all, he had fought with many mages before and knew that any spell of power required more time than it would take for the huge beasts to reach them. “Protect Serix!” he cried as he drew his blade, joining Banrigar on the right as a gullick barreled right at them. The great beast’s roar was deafening and its powerful legs and unnaturally long arms tore up snow and rock as it charged them with wild fury.

  Brant’s blade flew from its scabbard and aura energy raced through his body, pushed by a mixture of adrenaline and fear. He had never seen anything as big as the creature that was leaping straight for him, its huge clawed hands, each as big as his torso, reaching for him. He still wore his pack and stood in snow nearly knee deep. He was not fighting in ideal conditions.

  Brant knew he needed an advantage. Growling, he Fused. Fiery blue energy erupted from his blade. Snapping his sword left and right, his blade sliced off fingers and nearly cut off one hand at the wrist as it reached for him, the blade's flames searing fur and flesh alike. The gullick howled in pain and used one bloody hand to shield its eyes from the sword’s fire as it kicked out with its huge foot. Brant barely avoided the attack, his right foot slipping in the snow and, despite his speed, nearly causing him to fall on his face.

  Endler and Banrigar’s swords both struck the creature as it swung one of its huge arms at them like a swinging scythe. Their steel barely cut the creature, its thick skin and fur preventing the blades from doing any real damage. Neither of them were Mergers who could Fuse and they did not have Kul-brite blades. Endler ducked beneath the swing, but the beast’s huge fist struck Banrigar on his back as he too tried to duck. The beast’s fist caught on his pack and tossed him like a child, spinning him in the snow and causing him to role onto his back. Unfortunately the momentum of the attack knocked him closer to the creature, and without missing a beat the colossal beast brought its giant foot down on Banrigar’s body, crushing him into the s
now.

  “Down!” Serix yelled.

  Brant needed no further encouragement, his near slip already dropping his body close to the snow covered ground. Suddenly the air around him heated up like a furnace as bright orange fire howled above him. Leaping and rolling away Brant glanced up as a swath of fire struck the gullick in the chest. Serix was standing with his legs wide, both hands out wide as well, as fire roared from them, each fiery cone slamming into the two gullicks on either side of the trail with devastating effect. The odor of burning flesh and hair filled the air as the gullicks screamed in pain and surprise, leaping backwards to escape the magical fire.

  Orin and Ardra had each fired three arrows into the gullicks at the front before Cat and Jarak had drawn their blades. Aldgar braced himself before Kivalla, unsure of what he could do with no weapon. The immediate death of the guards had given Kay’il, Dayd, Horst, Corvin, and the remaining Dygon Guard time to draw their weapons and attack. Between Cat and Jarak on the other side, they had completely surrounded the four gullicks.

  Jarak brought forth the energy from the stone in his sword and lavender flames sprang from the weapon. Together, with the combined Kul-brite blades of the remaining guards, they attacked the crazed beasts. Kay’il and Horst both Fused, all three blades flashing with fiery devastation. Swords swung and giant clawed hands attacked, the chaos of the fighting spilling blood on both sides. Orin and Ardra leapt higher onto the rocks that were strewn on either side of the trail. Luckily the gullicks were so big that the twins could unleash their arrows without any danger of hitting their comrades. Arrow after arrow slammed into the hairy beasts, accentuated by roars of pain.

  Jarak struck a gullick on the leg with his sword, aiming for its inner thigh, hoping to slice the creature’s vital artery. The combined strength of the Kul-brite steel and its fire enabled the weapon to cut deep into its flesh. Roaring in pain the creature spun away, swinging its huge arm in a wide arc as blood gushed from the wound. Jarak saw the fist coming but could not move quickly enough. The beast’s knuckles collided with his chest, catapulting him off his feet. The collision with his Kul-brite armor made a mere pinging sound, and despite the force of the blow that sent him sprawling in the air, he did not feel any pressure on his chest. Other than a severe whiplash of his neck, the steel had completely protected him from any major damage, damage that should have crushed his sternum.