“Stony!” said Tradfast. “We need to get off this thing.”

“How? If we start climbing down and it shakes again, we’ll die.”

“There’s no other way.”

I swallowed. Tradfast was right yet again.

”I’ll go first,” I said, and, after making sure my sword was sheathed and properly secured to my belt, began to clamber down the thing’s neck. From above came a squeal of metal, and fizz of sparks fountained down, sprinkling little spots of pain onto my head. I gave a shout and ducked between the metal rungs.

“Don’t worry, Stony,” said Tradfast, grunting.

I looked up and saw him twisting Buro’s sword into the control panel.

“What are you doing?” I said. “Idiot! What if you make the whole thing fall apart?”

“I thought it might stop the machine. Hasn’t bloody worked though.”

I shook my head. Indeed, there were no flashing lights, nor the sound of machine agony. Whatever process Buro had put in motion looked like it would stay in motion. What was this metal monster’s purpose? Was it as Tradfast had guessed before -- to create a new body for the King? I didn't want to think about how that might work.

“Hurry up,” said Tradfast. “This thing could shake us off at any moment.”

“I know, I know!” I shook my head and continued down, giving the five black chambers a wide berth. Within the machine’s framework, the blades and sacks of chemicals moved around smoothly, with none of the juddering vibrations from before. With horror, I noticed that many of the blades and needles dripped red.

Soon we were past the chambers and within jumping distance to the floor. With a yell, Tradfast pushed off the metal struts above me and sailed over the chasm down to the stone, landing with a mighty thud. He groaned and stood up.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, wincing. “You better jump too.”

I looked back down; the gap between floor and machine seemed wider than I remembered. Then a blue glow and the sound of laughter, manifested at the bottom of the chasm. My mouth went dry. Was the machine about to do something? The blue coalesced into multiple figures, soaring up with grim faces and armed with long, vaporous spears. My jaw dropped in horror.

“Ghosts!” I screamed, and leapt without thinking. The stone floor rushed towards me, and in a sudden panic I reached out. My wrist snapped like a twig as the stone slapped into my palm and I screamed. Tradfast was already running for the exit, huge form diminishing into the distance as he rushed to escape his mortal terror.

“Don’t leave me!” My wrist was wrapped in pain, the broken edges of my bones felt capped with hot iron. Adrenaline was the only thing that stopped me curling up to weep.

“Run after me you idiot! I’m not turning back!”

I stood up. Without bothering to look back I sprinted for Tradfast, but his long strides propelled him at a speed I could never hope to match.

"Shit!" Each step I took jolted my wrist, so painful I felt sick. The Overseer disappeared into the doorway, still horribly far away from me. At least he hadn't shut it.

I glanced back. The ghosts had emerged from the chasm, and flew at me with spears pointed directly at my back, misty blue steel ready to run me through. They stared at me with an intensity I'd only ever seen in Buro and the priests' eyes. These dwarves from ages past would stop at nothing to help their king.

Fear shot through my heart and I leaned forwards, trying to move even faster. My lungs screamed at me to rest, and my whole chest ached like it would collapse in on itself. I had to get to the doors. They were heavy, and I knew the ghosts wouldn't be able to budge them.

The ghosts grew closer. I glanced back again and could almost make out the individual hairs in their beards. The door! It was nearly in reach. Three metres, two, one! I stumbled through and reached out with both hands, but my right wrist flopped with a spear of pain. Shit! I had to do this with one hand. I grabbed a metal strut on one door, and pulled. It creaked and sparks shot out from the hinges, then shut with a bang. Now the other one. I grabbed and pulled, but something metal groaned and squealed in the hinge and the door halted.

"Close, damn you!" I yelled, and pulled again. It was no use, the door was stuck open. I looked out. The ghosts were nearly here. How could I close it? I looked at the hinges and saw a spur of metal sticking out the top one.

I fumbled out my sword and struck at the spur, which fell out with a clang. I threw my sword away and grabbed a strut on the door, and yanked with all my might. A blue dash shot through the moment before the door slammed shut.

"Fuck!" I leaped back and grabbed my sword as the ghost slashed at me, leaving a glowing trail of mist from the long spearhead. I stabbed awkwardly and missed, my sword was too heavy to use with only one arm. The ghost raised his spear again.

"Wait!" I said. "Doesn't your king want me alive?"

The ghost scowled at me. "Yes. But that doesn't mean I cannot sever your limbs and drag you to him. Put down that old blade."

"No," I said. It was time to make a gamble. I couldn’t win a fair fight. "You can’t sever my limbs. You can't cut anything. I’ve seen ghosts before; you can only touch souls, and when you do, you destroy them."

I gritted my teeth and stepped towards the ghost, until his spear was a mere centimetre from my chest. The ghost's expression did not change as he lowered the spear to my foot. An icy chill seeped into my tendons, but I refused to retreat.

"Do it!" I said. "You can't, can you? I'm right." I swiped and he darted away, scowl deepening.

"I am warning you. This is your last chance."

I spat at him, and he shuddered as the saliva passed through him to spatter on the floor.

"Get out of my way," I said. "Or I know how angry the King will be. He needs more than two victims for his machine, doesn’t he?"

The ghost just hung in the air like a blue lantern, saying nothing. I walked past him and stuck my tongue out.

"Goodbye," I said, and slashed from below. He reacted a moment too late and the runes on my blade lit up as they swept through his leg. Cracks spread through his body like it was dropped glass, and before shock even registered on his face he shattered into ten thousand fading pieces. I smiled and started up the stairs.

It was a long way up, and eerie too. Part of me still worried over the priests. Might one lone survivor jump at me from the shadows? Not that there were any shadows - there was no light to cast them. The last flecks of soul-blood had long fallen from my sword and I kept one hand against the wall to stop me stepping off the stairwell in my blindness.

“Tradfast!” I shouted. “Tradfast, are you there?”

There was no answer. He must be long gone, probably sprinting away as far as possible. I wondered if he was angry with me for not believing him before. Maybe he blamed Lorsson’s death on me.

Another couple spirals and, unable to take the pain in my legs anymore, I sat down. Three of my limbs felt like chunks of stone, and my left arm far worse than that. My chest muscles ached and strained as I breathed. There wasn’t even a scrap on food in my pockets, nor a drip on water anywhere. How was I ever going to make it back? Perhaps I wouldn’t. The thought depressed me more than it ought to. I’d accomplished something great, hadn’t I? I stopped the King. He and his ghosts were stuck behind that door now, never to be freed. His machine’s purpose lay unfulfilled.

But where was my damn reward for all this pain? I didn't want to die a nameless hero. I wanted to live a very rich hero. Not return home as a temporarily lost miner. Not that there was much to return to, if the Gods were still around. I didn't believe what Lorsson had said about them sparing the dwarfholds, not one bit.

A loud crash sounded from below, and the steady stomp of feet followed. Something blue gleamed from the centre of the spiral, right at the bottom. My skin formed into a thousand goosebumps and I forced myself to stagger up, legs resisting every movement I made.

“Stony!” shouted someone in a guttural, horribly recognisable voice. “I am going to take your flesh for my own!”

My eyes widened in horror and bile rose in my throat. The King was alive, and made of flesh. The machine’s horrible purpose was as Tradfast had guessed. Those five chambers had been for five victims, with which to make a fitting new body for the ruler of the dwarves. Somehow Buro had rejigged it so it would work with less than that, but the King still wanted more.

I half ran, half crawled up the stairs as the thumping grew closer. Tears streamed into my eyes when my burning wrist smacked against the corner of a step. I’d come a long way, I must be nearly at the top now. The exit must be close. But so what? He’d just chase me out of it.

“Tradfast!” I shouted. “Help me! It’s the King, he’s coming!” Maybe we could fight him together. I certainly didn't have a chance on my own, snapped wrist or not.

But still there was no reply. The thumping grew closer. A dim light grew on the painted walls of the staircase, a white light. If that was sunlight, I must be getting close! It grew brighter, and with it hope grew within me. Sunlight from the outside giving me hope -- what an awful irony.

I reached the end of the staircase, and looked across the crater interior. There was still the spiral bridge to traverse. I cast my eyes across it as I stumbled forwards. At the end was Tradfast, leaning against the entrance, eyes closed.

“Tradfast!” I shouted. “Help me!”

“It’s over,” he said. “There’s nothing to go back to.”

“What?” I didn't want to believe it.

“What do you think? The Gods, the priests, they won, Stony. The dwarfholds are a ruin, the harbingers all around.”

“We’ll fight our way through! I’m not going to die here after all this! Otherwise what was the fucking point of it all?”

Tradfast shook his head and groaned. “There was never any point, Stony. It was all a waste of time. We’re both going to die here.”

I was halfway around the spiral now, collapsing to my knees every few steps, whimpering whenever my broken arm wobbled on its new hinge. “We’re not going to die! Stand up and fight! The King’s chasing me. At least help me kill him, for revenge if nothing else.”

Tradfast shook his head again. “Why? The world’s over.”

“So what? Stand up, Tradfast, and kill the King. It’s all his fault this happened. Don’t let him stay around to enjoy it.”

“Fine!” he roared and stood up, eyes red. “If only to get you to shut up, Stony. I don’t want to spend my last moments listening to you moan.”

I gave him a wild grin as I made it to the outmost spiral. We’d make our stand in the entranceway. It was two against one, and the King didn't want to risk killing us. We’d kill him.

“Stony!” cried the King, and my heart leapt to my throat again. “Come here! You would be dead if it wasn’t for my help. You owe me!”

“You started this! You destroyed the world, and Airon and Lorsson are dead because of you! Crawl back into your tomb.”

The King emerged from the spiral stairs. First came his head, face half Lorsson and half Buro, a bizarre mix of curly brown and smooth blonde made up the beard shooting from his lower jaw. That was the only normal part of him.

His lips, upper cheeks and part of his forehead were but half covered in skin, his chest even less covered, webs of veins visible over thick sheets of muscle. In his lower torso sat the sapphire, glowing a brilliant blue. His lower body had no skin on it whatsoever, and his footsteps were set in blood. I threw up on the stone scales of the bridge, vomit burning my mouth.

Despite his incomplete form, his voice boomed out as strong as ever, filling the whole room where once it had only filled my head.

“Destroyed the world? Let me set out the facts for you. The world has been dying for years. I saved the world. I discovered the secrets of its creation, and how it could be renewed. For hundreds of years I reigned, designing the ritual that would bring the Gods back to create life anew on this blasted desert. It went wrong, and the priestly caste, ever jealous of my power, sought to complete the ritual then rule for themselves. But they are gone, and it is time for me to take my place as saviour.”

“Saviour? How many had to die for your plans?”

“A lot less than those that will be born because of my plans! Give up, Stony. I am right, and you are wrong. Sacrifice your body for me so I can attain the reward I deserve.”

Now it was Tradfast’s turn to shout. “Reward? What about the dwarfholds? What about everything I’ve ever known? Overrun by monsters, because of you.”

“They will survive, and thrive under my leadership. Without this great renewal, the sun would have scorched the air away until nothing could live in this world. Now make no resistance, or I will have to hurt you.”

I drew my sword and stood beside Tradfast, who drew his too.

“We’re going to kill you,” I said. “I don’t care about what reward you deserve, or anything like that. What about my reward for carrying you all the way up here and seeing my friend die? It’s right in your belly, and I’ll carve it out of you.”

“No, you will not.” The King paused with finality. I watched the web of veins across his chest expand and contract as he breathed. I’d cut right through them, and prise out the gem beneath, just like I’d done in the mine.

“You attack from beneath, and I’ll go from above,” whispered Tradfast. “Fool didn't even bring a sword. And the ghosts can’t go into the sunlight up here. It’s two armed dwarves against one unarmed.”

“Time for revenge,” I said. I channeled all my anger and sadness at Airon’s death at the King, and promised myself I’d cut him apart.

The monarch leapt across the spiral from one path to the other, splashing blood from his raw muscles. I gritted my teeth. The King crossed another gap, then another, a wet sound following each time he landed. Blue light shone in his muscles, and the blood stopped dripping and solidified. Frozen power crackled from his fingertips. He crossed the penultimate gap, then bent his legs and sprang at us.