“We were pulling miners from the rubble when the ghosts first appeared. They swooped down on us, faster than anything you could believe. Well, I suppose you could believe it Stony, since you met them as well.”

“Yeah,” I said, and nodded. “They’re fast, that’s for sure. Tradfast said you managed to put together some sort of shelter.”

“That’s right, we did. The ghosts can’t really move real objects, so we thought we’d be safe in there. So Tradfast had us pull together some of the more intact bits of platform into a sort of flimsy bunker.”

“Tradfast did? He said you came up with the idea.”

“No, no. It was definitely Tradfast. He was remarkably brave.”

That didn't fit with what I’d seen of Tradfast in front of the ghosts. He’d practically pissed himself with terror. But I didn't want to disrupt Airon’s story.

“So we were in the shelter,” he continued, “And I wasn’t quite sure what we were going to do. Obviously we couldn’t stay there forever, and there was absolutely no guarantee of rescue, was there?”

“No.”

“Exactly. So some of us had to break out and make a dash for the exit, hoping at least one would make it back to town to tell everyone. I volunteered.”

“Why?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“Because it was the right thing to do, of course. Saving lives is good, you know?”

I smiled.

“It’s a relief at least one dwarf thinks like that down here,” I said. “I’d have had a much harder time of things down here if you hadn’t persuaded me to help Tradfast. He thinks he’s in my debt now.” I chuckled.

The fire snapped and crackled as a log was chucked on it. Briefly it flared up, lighting everyone’s faces orange. Airon’s eye started to twitch madly. He slapped his hand over it.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll stop soon. Stop. Anyway, where was I?”

“You decided to run out of the shelter.”

Was he really alright? There was something a little strange about him. His voice was slightly different tone to what I remembered, a little lower, his enunciation a little off.

“That’s right. I volunteered to run out of the shelter, and so did half the rest.”

“And then?”

“The ghosts were already blocking the entrance, then they chased us over the rubble into the pillar hall.”

“But you managed to escape somehow, right? How did you outrun them?”

He furrowed his brows, and rubbed his temples.

“I’m not quite sure how we managed, actually. Not all of us made it, only a dozen of us got to the pillar, and down the doorway there. We shut it behind us, that’s why it wasn’t open when you came to it.”

“Oh,” I said. “Now I get how Urist and his group made it down here, if all the pillars had open doors. I never even thought to check any.”

“I don’t know if they were all open, but the one nearest us was at any rate.”

My shirt front was totally dry now, so I turned my back to the fire, and sat in front of Airon. The heat nearly scorched me, but after so long in the cold and dark, it managed to be a pleasant sensation.

“Lucky,” I said. “So you came straight to the city afterwards? How did you end up on this side? And when did you meet Horir and the rest? Do you know how they survived?”

He smiled and held up one hand.

“Patience,” he said. “You always do like to get ahead of yourself, Stony.”

‘Do I?” Airon had never criticised me for that before, in fact often he’d tell me to stop being behind in everything.

“A little. Anyhow, we came to the city, and searched for something edible. We spotted a crop of edible looking mushroom over here and crossed the river. The next day Horir showed up, with a couple hundred dwarves. He took command and we waited here for rescue. Then your signal fire started, and we made our own one in reply.”

“How did Horir’s lot survive though? I could swear nearly everyone was killed when the ghosts swarmed us.”

Airon scratched at the great cut on his chest, disturbing the stitches slightly, and taking off flakes of dead blood.

“And where did you get that scar? It looks pretty serious.”

“It just nicked it on a piece of rubble. One of the others stitched it up for me. Fardo.” He gestured to another one of the miners, a red-bearded dwarf tilting his head to one side as if listening for something. But the only sounds were the crackle and hiss of the fire and the incessant pour of rain on the roof.

“Is that safe? It could get infected, who knows what’s down here.”

“It’s alright, Stony.” He smiled again. “If it was infected I’d know already. As for Horir’s lot, I don’t know how they escaped, other than that it was through a door in one of the pillars. I’m glad they did though.”

I snorted.

“I’m not too glad. I don’t like Horir.”

“Yes, but the more dwarves around the safer we are.”

I stood up and stretched my arms, yawning. I was rather tired, now the adrenaline of combat and excitement of finally reaching safety had worn off. I sat back down beside Airon, and put my hand on his shoulder.

“Well, at least we’re both here. Old friends, ready to struggle through life together again, right?”

He nodded.

“Agreed.”

I shut my eyes and basked in the warmth of the flames, trying to keep my mind empty. I held no desire to think, or worry about what I needed to do next, but questions kept creeping into my mind anyhow.

How exactly was I going to find the King’s treasure, and escape with enough of it to get Airon and I rich? What was the treasure? What would Airon think of the King when I told him the truth about the sapphire? So many questions, and no answers.

“Time to get outside,” came Tradfast’s voice, yanking me from my pool of reflections and into the cold and hot of the real world. “We’re going to get moving soon, Captain Lorsson’s orders.”

I groaned and stood up. Airon and the others rose with no complaint.

“Bloody Overseer, ay?” I whispered to Airon. “Telling us what to do again already!”

“Oh, yes,” said Airon. I frowned again. He should have told me to take a little pity on Tradfast, that our Overseer was under a lot of pressure and you should think more about others Stony, rather than just yourself. Was his odd behaviour really just stress?

“Is that all you’re going to say?” I asked.

“Yes, yes. It’s fine. I’m just stressed.”

Goosebumps prickled on my skin as we left the warmth of the room, but whether they came from the cold wet wind or from a deep suspicion lurking at the back of my mind, I could not quite tell. Our line shortened as we huddled together for warmth, and Tradfast led us to the centre of camp.

Captain Lorsson stood front of the signal fire, next to Horir and one more surviving lieutenant. His eyes shone with eagerness and enthusiasm, and in his armour washed clean by the rain and glinting in the firelight, he cut an imposing figure. I almost felt inspired. Horir did not look happy however. He kept a few paces from the Captain, and kept glancing nervously at Lorsson’s sword.

“Horir still doesn’t like the Captain. Hey, I suppose this is the first time you’ve seen Lorsson. What do you think?”

Airon was staring down the street to the river, a vacant look in his eyes, but he brought his gaze back to where I pointed.

“Oh, he’s got quite the sword. Is it runed?”

“Yeah, it is. Chops up ghosts like you wouldn’t believe! And you should see how fast he is with it. Shame that Horir doesn’t like him. Called him an idiot in front of some of the soldiers back in the mine, you know? Shame he’s a bit of airhead as well. He has his moments though.”

“He sounds quite a guy, Stony.”

“He’s an odd one. But yeah, quite a guy. Even if he is rich bastard like all the rest of them.”

I wondered if the pile of gold and gems Lorsson owned was as tall as the signal fire he now stood behind. I wondered how tall the King’s pile of treasure would be, and gave Airon a sideways glance. He’d cheer up once I told him about that, surely. For all his complaints about my chasing after wealth, Airon was still a dwarf.

“Dwarves! We are united once more!” said Captain Lorsson, clear voice carrying over the shifting racket of rain and wind.

I nodded, and clapped Airon on the shoulder. We were united.

“I congratulate you on the fight thus far. Once we fought under night in the desert outside, against beasts of the wild. Who would have thought we would find ourselves...”

Someone tapped me on the back.

“Stony,” said Urist. He stood right behind, soaked with rain so badly his shirt was almost transparent. “We need to talk, now.”

“What?” I said. “Why? Piss off, I’m with my friend.”

“It’s important. For your safety. Please.”

“How about you leave me--”

“Stony!” A voice so loud it should have toppled the buildings around and stopped Lorsson’s speech in its tracks boomed all around. “You must talk with him now!”

“Piss off with you too!” I hissed, bending my knees to stop myself toppling over in lightheadedness. Airon looked at me, puzzled. Now I was the one acting strangely. Some of the other miners turned to look at me as well. Damn! I supposed I couldn’t just brush Urist off forever, and I certainly couldn’t the Ghost King.

“Alright Urist, have it your way. We can talk out of the crowd. Airon, you should come too.”

Worry flashed in Urist’s eyes.

“No, he can’t.”

“Why not?” I said. “If you can talk to me now I don’t see why you can’t talk to my friend.”

Urist narrowed his eyes at Airon, the first time I’d seen him narrow them since his change. Before, the changed in expression had always been driven by emotion, but not now. He stared into Airon’s dark eyes, calculating.

“As you say, Stony.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Airon can come too.”

“Good. This better not take long.”

We made our way out of the press of dwarves, who were busy staring at Captain Lorsson with a mixture of rapt attention and vague concern, and barely seemed to notice us. Urist led us to a deserted alley. High stone walls with no windows reached up five metres on either side. Rain still dripped down, but the direct wind was blocked and so I was in no danger of getting as badly soaked as before.

“Right,” I said, standing next to Airon, both of us facing Urist head on. “What is it you want to say?”

Urist moved the point of his spear to under Airon’s throat. Airon’s eyes bulged, and he lifted up one leg as if to step back.

“Stop right there, or I’ll kill you,” said Urist, calm as always.

“What are you doing!” I shouted. “You trai--”

“Your friend is not your friend.”

Airon’s eye spasmed again, more strongly than it had before.

“He is possessed by a ghost. As are the rest of the dwarves in this camp.”

My eyes widened.

“Don’t be absurd! He was just feeling stressed!”

But Airon twitched again, and for the smallest second another face appeared in transparent red, overlayed over the pale, scruffy one of ordinary flesh. My skin prickled, my eyes widened, my face drained of colour and I took a shaky, stumbling step away.

“You’re...”

“Stony, no! I’m not hi--”

The face overlaid on his moved back and vanished.

“It’s just stress,” said Airon, hands shaking and face grim. “Put the spear down, we’re all just stressed.”

Urist’s muscles tensed and I leapt at him, grabbing his spear by the shaft.

“No!” I shouted.

“He’s the enemy, Stony! He’s one of the old priests! None of them escaped from the ghosts, they are the ghosts!”

Airon turned and ran.

“Airon!”

And at that moment, a terrible crash, like all the cave walls in the world had crumbled down at once to shatter around us, filled the cavern. Flashes and crackles followed, arcing over the ceiling.

I covered my ears and crouched down, yelling involuntarily. A terrible fear filled me.

“It’s finally here,” said Urist.

“What is?” I asked, but I felt I knew already. The Ghost King’s voice filled my head.

“Ten thousand years after the call, the Gods have arrived. This is the moment the priests have been waiting for. And the invasion I must prevent.”

My breathing began to quicken.

“Stony, forget Airon,” said Urist. “We need to get out of this city.”