I kept my eyes flicking between Urist and the floor as we continued through the tunnel. He kept a steady march, cutting between the tracks we’d left on our way down here. The lizard-dog tracks disappeared abruptly, long smears remaining in place of prints at their start point. Where had they come from? I looked up and saw a hole in the ceiling that we must have missed on our way down. From that point on I flicked my gaze up in five second intervals, heart thumping every time in case some devilish beast poked its toothy jaws out. But none did.

“We’re here, Stony,” announced Urist, and halted. It was eerie how perfectly he just ceased to go forwards, like he’d been marching and stopping all his life. At his feet, our old tracks came down the stairs. Was it really only a couple hours ago we’d been stood next to each other, eyes fixed sideways to see if the other made a wrong move?

“You remember your promise?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said, with deadpan honesty. “I’m going to tell Captain Lorsson that you were in the right.”

“Good,” I said, and narrowed my eyes at him. “You still haven’t told me how the Ghost King persuaded you to help me.”

His right arm twitched again, but only barely this time. He didn't even have to restrain it.

“He told me I’d get a better life for my family and I if I helped you. And of course I believed him.”

The stilted tones of a liar, barely even disguised. But I didn't want to press the point down here. My nerves were beginning to fray.

“Let’s go,” I said, and we walked up.

Our footsteps were still imprinted on the floor of the first corridor in double file. The rows of doorways on either side gaped at me, making me swallow in fear. Their blackness promised death, but nothing came from them and we came to the final stairs unscathed. I gazed down the corridor one last time, tracing the path we’d taken down with my eyes. Was it really over already?

“Are you coming?” asked Urist. I nodded, and turned to look up the stairs we’d come down with Tradfast.

Dim light shone from above, not yellow like the lamps but white. I took one step up, and another, and as I advanced the light grew brighter. We emerged from the tunnel, and I gasped and shrunk down. Even if we hadn’t had our lamps or the glowing fungi, I’d have seen everything just fine. Ambient sunlight lit the city from the hole far in the distance. Was my skin going to burn? I clapped my hands over my face, and felt grime and slime coating them. Hopefully that would save me from any damage.

Urist swept his eyes across the camp, and I did the same. With bitterness, I noticed everything had continued as usual without me. The place was a hive of business, centering around a tower of blazing wood that sent flames licking higher than a three-story house, and white smoke to the cavern roof. Dwarves were laying more fungus wood against the inferno, sending hot sparks flying. A signal fire. I nodded, not to anyone in particular. Captain Lorsson had come up with a good idea for once. Any dwarf hiding in the city would see such a blaze, and animals tended to avoid fire.

On the other side of the camp, across a road down to the river, other dwarves chopped up more of the purple and white mushrooms. For lunch, probably. I couldn’t quite get a handle on how long I’d been down under the city. A few hours at least.

Not one dwarf rubbed their eyes, or dragged their movements. They worked chatting happily, almost like they were enjoying themselves. Lucky bastards had got plenty of sleep. Hopefully I could rest easy soon too.

One miner dropped the log he was carrying. His mouth dropped open.

“They’re back!” he shouted. “Both of them”

As one, the rest of the dwarves stopped mid whatever they were doing and swiveled their heads to look at us, chatter going silent. I froze too.

“What?” came Lorsson’s voice, full of surprise, from the other side of the fire. He hurried around the signal fire, wiping sweat and ash from his brow.

“Well!” he said. His eyes were as wide as everyone else’s; although he’d assured us before that we’d both make it back alive; obviously he hadn’t believed it. “You both look perfectly fine! Well!”

“Urist has something he needs to tell you,” I blurted, words coming out all in one. This was the moment of truth. Would Urist keep his promise? I’d been sure of it, but now we came down to the actual telling, I half wished I’d shanked him in the tunnels. Had he brought me up here just to betray me at the last moment?

“Stony was right,” said Urist, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. His friends, who’d spat at me behind my back before, turned to each other as if to reassure themselves this was no dream. Vorgur looked especially confused, glancing back and forth between us blinking heavily.

“He was?” said Lorsson, frowning.

Urist gave one firm nod.

“He was. There was never any diamond, nor any other kind of gem. Yes, he killed Jost, but it was self-defence. He persuaded me of everything down there.”

“Oh,” said Captain Lorsson, and paused. “Well, um, I suppose I should officially announce Stony as the victor.”

The shocked silence somehow grew even more shocked, and even more silent. Not a sound passed from the lips of a single dwarf; they barely even breathed. Had they been so convinced I would die? Perhaps they’d been hoping for it.

“But first I need to know what you found down there.”

I winced. In my minds eye I saw the eyeless faces of the lizard-dogs, their razor teeth and claws ready to tear my flesh asunder. I heard their cackles in my ears yet again. The massive head of the charging beast filled my vision, and for a heart-stopping instant I felt as if I would be crushed to paste.

“There are monsters down there. We barely escaped.”

“Oh, said Lorsson. “Can you attest to this as well, Urist?”

“Yes,” he said, locking eyes with the Captain. “Stony saved my life from them down there. Held off a lizard-dog heavier than he was with his bare hands. We only barely drove of the pack.”

I winced at the lie. We both knew I was alive only because of the Ghost King.

There was no choice but to go along with it.

“I found this too,” I said. I drew the dagger from its case and held it out, runes bright white, brightening the dim sunlight three times over.

“Oh,” said Lorsson. “Can I take a look?” I tightened my grip on it. “Just a look,” he added hurriedly. “I’m not going to take it off you.”

Twisting my lips in consternation, I reversed my grip to take it my knife by the blade, and I held it out to him. He took it gently and raised it to his eyes.

“I can’t quite read the runes,” he said, examining both sides, steel edge flashing as

he turned it over. “But they’re very well engraved.”

I held out my hand again, and he gave it back.

“We could use more weapons. Were there anymore down there?”

“No,” I said, and I put the dagger away. “This was the only one.”

“I see. Well, I’m glad you’re back in any case.” He took a deep breath in, then out. “Dwarves!”

He drew his sword, glowing white in the sun, and raised it over his head. Every dwarf stared at him, eyes not quite focused. They still didn't quite believe I was still alive, did they? I couldn’t quite believe it either, and despite this being my moment of vindication, I was too numb to feel any sense of triumph. I didn't deserve to feel any triumph anyway. All I’d done was shove a fellow dwarf down some stairs then scream for help when things got tough.

“Today,” continued the Captain, in that grand voice that had so surprised me when we first came to the city, “Stony has proven himself the most valiant, so much so that his own bitter rival recognises him. I declare him to be the victor of the trial. His truth his the truth, and we shall hear no more of the accusations that were presented against him.” Now he became solemn. “I have no doubt that the information he has brought us will prove a valuable aid in our pursuit of our friends. Stony, your have rendered a valuable service in pursuit of the truth, and I thank you for it.”

He lowered his sword. The runes glittered, leaving symbols of light in the air for a brief moment, before he slid the blade back into its scabbard. No one spoke a word, nor clapped.

“Well.” He rubbed his hands together. “I suppose you two will want some rest.”

Was this really it? My conflict with Urist over? Apparently so -- at least the first chapter of it. I took another look at him; he had not the barest hint of disappointment on his face. Just a slight smile. Well, I’d worry about him later.

My belly rumbled. All that walking and panicking and running had worked up a real hunger, and I felt I could devour a whole lizard-beast. One covered in expensive sauce and prepared by the best chefs in the dwarfholds. Sadly, mushrooms would have to do.

“I’d like something to eat first,” I said.

“Very well then,” said Captain Lorsson. “I’m sure Tradfast can sort something out. You’re his dwarves, after all.”

“Thank you,” said Urist, and he gave the Captain a smile.

“Ah, you’re welcome.” Lorsson seemed a little taken aback. He shook his head, and turned to address the rest of the dwarves. “Back to work then!”

I made my way past the signal fire. Its heat was truly incredible. One half of me felt like it burned as I walked past, and the fungus wood let out the strangest smell. The house we’d cleared out yesterday came into view from behind the flames, Tradfast standing there, squinting at me as if trying to work out if I was a hallucination or not. He clenched and unclenched his fists, then focused on a point behind me. I glanced back, Urist was there, marching along calmly just like he had in the tunnel. Had Tradfast spoken to him often back before the earthquake? If so, Urist’s change must be even more disturbing to the Overseer than it was to me.

“So,” he said to me. “You’re alive.”

“Yes. And now I’m hungry. Have you been stashing extra food back here?” Tradfast had a legendary appetite.

He glared at me.

“Don’t push your luck. We kept the leftover skewers back here so they wouldn’t get confused for kindling. Grab a couple, then grab some mushrooms from the pile over there.” He gestured to where some dwarves were chopping. “Try not to get burned by the signal fire when you toast them. Is that clear?”

“It’s clear,” I sighed.

“Is it clear with you as well, Urist?” He spoke softer than he had to me, and looked closely at Urist’s face, examining every inch of it.

“It’s clear,” replied Urist. Tradfast looked at me, frowned, and then looked back at Urist.

“Off with you both now. Go on, I’ve got work to do.”

I walked away, glancing back at Tradfast now and again. He flicked his gaze between Urist and I in turn, brow beyond furrowed.

Ten minutes later, after nearly jabbing through my own finger with a skewer, and singing my shirt, I found myself sitting and having the best meal I’d had since the whole debacle had started. Even a fair way away from the signal fire, I was a comfortable temperature, and now I no longer feared impending death, the taste of mushroom became enjoyable. Their hot, earthy juices coated my tongue, giving the best flavour I’d had in years, and the texture was excellent too, neither chewy nor too soft. I washed them down with regular slurps from a canteen of purified water.

The only dampener on my meal was the way Urist, sitting beside me, was eating. He wrinkled his nose with every bite, each of which was taken at intervals so exact I got the impression he was eating not because he was hungry and tired, but because he needed the nutrition. Far from my happy guzzling, his was meal devoid of emotion.

“Not too keen on them are you?” came a voice. I turned to look, beard still soggy with mushroom juice, and saw Vorgur, looking at Urist with his brow wrinkled. Urist made no effort to reply. In fact he didn't even seem to register Vorgur’s presence, just kept on eating at exactly the same pace.

“What happened down there?” continued Vorgur. “Did Stony bash you on the head?”

I rolled my eyes and got back to my meal. Didn't matter if I was declared the victor of the trial, there was a certain type who’d never believe me.

Urist stopped chewing.

“I did no such thing,” he said. “Stony saved me from some of the beasts down here, and I realised he wasn’t as bad a dwarf as I thought. That’s all.”

“Rubbish. He did something to you, didn't he? You’re not the Urist I know. Have Captain Lorsson take a look at your head. If there’s a lump on it he’ll know there’s been some foul play.”

Urist blanked him and went back to his meal. I swallowed the last of my mushrooms, which didn't taste so good now Vorgur had decidedly soured the mood, and hurled my skewer into the fire. It vanished into the flame and smoke, and I cracked my knuckles. Time to get Vorgur to piss off.

“Go away,” I said. “I didn't thump anyone on the head. But I might, if you keep bothering me.”

Vorgur spat on the ground.

“Piss off yourself. You’re one vicious bastard, you know that? Do you really expect me to believe Urist here just decided to forgive you? I don’t believe it, and neither does anyone else.”

I stood up, and stepped close to him, glaring down into his eyes. He stood his ground, not moving back even an inch, but his chest began to rise and fall faster.

“Well,” I said, “You’re going to have to bloody believe it, because not only is it the truth, it’s what Captain Lorsson has declared as the truth. So unless you want to be the next one down there, fighting off hideous monsters from the very bowels of the mountain, shut the fuck up.”

Vorgur rolled his eyes and twisted away from me to walk over to Urist. He looked down at the back of his old friend’s curly head, still frowning.

“Urist, there’s got to be lump somewhere here. He’s smacked you with something, I’m sure of it. Maybe he hit you so hard you forgot about it.”

“Stony did no such thing,” said Urist, still chewing.

“He has to have--”

“Don’t be an idiot Vorgur,” I said. “If I’d hit him that hard he’d still be feeling it. Now bugger off to whatever work you’re meant to be doing.”

He ignored me and reached down to feel Urist’s scalp, pressing his fingers through the small dwarf’s hair. Urist lifted his hands to his head so fast they blurred, and grabbed Vorgur’s hand, squeezing it against his skull. Before surprise could even register in my brain, or on Vorgur’s face, Urist was up and twisting around, a snarl on his face.

“Ah!” cried Vorgur, and wrenched his hand away before the wrist snapped. He stumbled back clutching his wrist, then tripped over his own feet, landing with a thud on the stone floor.

I sucked in an unsteady breath and retreated a good few paces. How had Urist done that? With such ease too. Vorgur scrambled up and back, wide eyes locked onto Urist’s cold one.

“What the fuck!” shouted Vorgur. “You’re as bad as he is!”

“Leave me alone,” said Urist. “I already told you, I’ve forgiven Stony. It would be good if you respected that decision.”

“He bloody did something to you, didn't he? He--”

“Calm down and leave me alone!” I shouted. “I’m too tired for your idiocy right now.”

A shadow fell over me.

“What’s going on here?” said Tradfast, voice rumbling like an earthquake.

“Stony’s done something to Urist,” said Vorgur. “I’m sure of it. I doubt he even remembers my name. Do you?”

Urist ignored him.

“I’m going to get some rest,” he said.

“Don’t you see? He’s changed.”

“Get back to work Vorgur,” said Tradfast. “Don’t mess with things you don’t understand.”

He gave me a look I’d never seen from him before. His brown eyes were unsure, and, wait a minute. I had seen those eyes before, when we were in the tunnel together, chased by ghosts. My own eyes widened. How could Tradfast be fearful? And of me?

“I didn't do anything!” I said. “Honestly. Urist just changed by himself, but he’s still the same person. Look--”

I pointed, but Urist had disappeared already.

“Whatever you say Stony,” said Tradfast. “Guess you didn't need my advice after all. Now get some rest.”

“You have to believe me!’ I said.

“Get some rest.” He turned and began to walk away. Vorgur followed, flicking his eyes; they were wide.

I sighed and clenched my fists. Damn it. Now the miners were even more suspicious of me. Why couldn’t the Ghost King just have left Urist to the lizard-dogs? I banged my fist on the stone floor, then opened my hand and felt at the rock. It was warm, and dry, and its tactility drained my anger from me slowly. I was too tired to be angry anymore.

Could I sleep here? I looked up at the raging fire, and scooted back a few more metres. Here would be perfect; a safe distance, but still warm, and I lay back gently, feeling my raw muscles throb along with my nose.

Urist, the miners, finding Airon, the Ghost King... All my problems could wait until tomorrow.

A good sleep, and I’d feel better. I shut my eyes.