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On the other hand, like a snake that's too dumb to know it's dead, my body could still move. And come to think of it, the pain in my chest wasn't actually that much worse than getting hit by my cousin Tom's fastball, something he manages to accomplish just about every family reunion picnic.

The orc had my right arm pinned across my chest, since I'd been reaching for my sword, but I was able to slam the heel of my left hand into the creature's face. Then, since I hadn't quite died yet, I forced him farther back with my left forearm against his throat. That finally gave me enough room to tug my sword out of its sheath, and without stopping to think, I simultaneously shoved it into him and rolled him off. His dagger was still in my chest, and it only seemed reasonable to pull it out. Only then did I realize that just the tip had penetrated my thick leather breastplate. The pain was from the force of the blow and the fact that the blade was iron. Apparently I wasn't dead after all.

Which was a relief no matter how you look at it.

Orcs were still dropping out of the upper tunnel. They were about human shaped, though short and stocky and hairy in all the wrong places. And they had pointy yellow teeth. There were a couple dozen out already, and more crowding the hole. I killed two of them before I got a chance to take a breath, to look around and see how the others were doing.

Thea was swinging her sword, which now glowed as bright as Cornelius's magical light. Good thing, for Cornelius had had to drop that spell to use his Wizards' Lightning. Mom looked like she was just barely holding on, but Wolstan was by her side, and you could tell he was an old pro at this. Robin was using his sword too, although thieves prefer bows or slingshots. This was too close-quarters for that.

An orc swung a broadsword at my head. I ducked and his blade swept off the head of another orc who'd been coming up behind me. Like I said, orcs aren't too bright. I stabbed the first one, even though I did probably owe him my life. "It's just a game," I murmured.

"Back off!" Cornelius yelled to me and Thea.

We were badly positioned: Cornelius didn't dare use Wizards' Lightning on the remaining orcs for fear of hitting us.

We slashed our way to his side, whereupon he raised his hands and shouted something like "
Piccadilly Circus!
"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a huge fireball appeared, which spun down the corridor like a giant lethal bowling ball.

There were yowls and the smell of charred flesh, but meanwhile the way toward Sannatia was blocked, and we had to back up the way we'd come.

"The horses," Mom said, grabbing at Phoenix's bridle. "Our supplies."

"Leave them." With one hand I dragged on her arm, with the other fought off another orc. From the new direction we were heading came the sound of running footsteps: more orcscoming from the rear, surrounding us.

She let go of the bridle and came.

"This way." Thea sprinted down one of the side tunnels.

"What if that's a dead end?" Robin asked.

"That's the dead end," Thea said, indicating the direction from which the orcs were coming.

A short way later, the tunnel forked.

"Which way?" Thea asked Wolstan.

"Who knows?" Wolstan indicated Mom. "She doesn't look like she's going to make it much farther whichever way we go."

It was true, but I hated him for saying it.

Thea chose left.

At first the path dipped down, then it curved to the right. We passed one secondary passage, turned right at the next.

And still every time we stopped for a breath the orcs' footsteps echoed hollowly behind us.

"They can see the light from your sword," Cornelius told Thea.

"Cannot," she said. "We're too far ahead."

"Orcs can see real good in the dark," Wolstan said. He gave a shudder. "I hate orcs."

We found another tunnel to the left. Took that. Bypassed two more to the left and one to the right, took the third one that opened to the left.

"Slow down," I said. "She can't keep up." By "she" I meant Mom.

"Here." Wolstan hooked his sword onto his belt. "I'll carry her."

"You will not," Mom said, but Wolstan grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder.

"Anybody keeping track of how we've come?" he asked.

"Ahmm," we all said.

And still the footsteps trailed us.

"It's your miserable sword," Cornelius told Thea.

"You've wanted this sword all along," Thea said. "And if you can't have it, you don't want anybody else to have it."

"The sword can sense the orcs," Cornelius said, "which is why it glows. The orcs can sense the sword, which is why they can follow us."

"I think he may be right," I said.

"My other sword's with the horses," Thea said angrily. "And Without this, we'll be totally in the dark. And—and..." She gave a cry of disgust and flung the sword down the tunnel away from her.

For a short while, the faint glow from behind us lit the walls. But then we were in the dark.

"I'll bet, Cornelius," said Mom, still slung over Wolstan's shoulder, "that you can't make another light for us until tomorrow."

"Ahm," our wizard said, "no. Sorry."

"Then, Wolstan, I really appreciate your carrying me, but could you please set me down before you accidentally walk into a wall, or before I throw up?"

I could hear the faint scuffling of her shoes as Wolstan set her upright, but I could see absolutely nothing. And elves have better night vision than humans.

Cornelius said, "I do, however, have an idea." He started muttering, and the nonsense words were vaguely familiar. His Illusion spell, I realized.

There came just the faintest hint of light.

Take that back.

To use the word
light
at all would be an exaggeration. But suddenly I could make out patterns: black designs on black background. "Oh, very nice," I told him. "What's that supposed to be?"

"It's a torch." Cornelius sounded hurt that I'd had to ask.

"Why's it so dim?"

"Because, Harek," he explained too patiently for it to be patience, "it's not a real torch. It's just the illusion of a torch."

"Give your eyes a moment to adjust," Thea advised.

It got a little better. A little.

"We better hold hands," Robin said. "So nobody gets lost."

"Lost?" I said. "At this rate we could all fall into a chasm and not know it till we hit bottom."

"There haven't been any chasms so far," Thea said.

"So far," I pointed out, "we were in the main tunnel."

Slowly we made our way forward, bumping into walls and each other, stepping on people's feet.

At last the company began to unwind, to feel proud of themselves. "Did you see that big one?" Thea asked. "The one with the bear-head helmet? Did you see how long he twitched after I cut his head off?"

"Yeah," Robin said. "And how about the one I got with his own pike?"

"Did you smell them fry?" Cornelius asked.

And on and on. Wolstan didn't say much. He occasionally muttered, "I hate orcs," but that was about it. Mom didn't say anything at all. Neither did I. They were only orcs, I told myself. It wasn't like they were
people.
It wasn't like they were
real.
But I just couldn't get up any enthusiasm. Nobody seemed to notice.

After what seemed like a couple days, the passage narrowed and we had to readjust ourselves single file. Cornelius ended up in the lead, with me right behind. At that point, we were going downward.

"Corny, we're never going to find our way out of here," I muttered.

"Don't call me Corny," he snarled.

Mom squeezed my shoulder and I patted her hand.

We found another passage, but it smelled so damp and nasty, we bypassed it. We took the next one, though it was just as bad.

Suddenly Cornelius took a step backward, coming down hard on my foot. Mom slammed into my back. I could feel Thea walk into her, Wolstan into her, and Robin into him.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Water."

I peered around him into the dark. Ahead our path was blocked by a body of water several yards long. Beyond that, the tunnel widened and slanted upward. But of course there was no way to judge how deep the water was, nor even, for that matter, if it was plain, harmless water.

Cornelius picked up a pebble and tossed it into the water. "Doesn't sound deep," he said.

"What does deep water sound like?" Wolstan asked.

Cornelius hiked his robe up over his knees and stepped in. He took another step. Another. The water was up about midcalf. "Cold," he said, still moving forward cautiously. "Bottom's slippery." Almost halfway across, he pitched forward.

"Cornelius!" Thea cried.

"It's all right. It's all right," he assured us. The torch had fallen into the pool, but since it was only the image of a torch, the water hadn't extinguished it. Cornelius picked it up, but didn't stand right away. "Something's here." He felt around in the water.

"Something alive?" I asked.

Cornelius held up a metal box, about the size of a shoe box.

"Oooo, treasure," we all said. Except for Mom, who was sitting on the ground and didn't seem to care about anything. And Wolstan, who was only a nonplayer character and had his own reasons for whatever he did.

Cornelius waded the rest of the way across the pool. "Seems safe to me," he called back.

We assumed that if nothing had grabbed him, nothing would grab us and made it safely across, joining him on the other side.

"Should we open it?" Robin asked, eyeing the box.

"Sure," Cornelius said. "Why not?"

"Because we've got orcs breathing down our necks," Wolstan said.

"We've got a moment or two." Robin looked at Mom. "Care to try the lock? That's one of a thief's specialties."

"Go ahead," she told him.

Robin fiddled with the mechanism and the lid sprang open.

"Oooo," we all said again. Except Mom and Wolstan. Even in the terrible light, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and assorted other goodies glittered brightly.

Cornelius closed the lid before we were ready to stop ogling. "I'll hold this until we have a chance to divide it properly," he told us, and tucked the box under his arm.

Robin glanced at me with raised eyebrows but didn't say anything.

In theory we wanted to head upward. But it was impossible to guess from the direction a tunnel started where it would go. Up, down, around, dead ends. More and more frequently we stopped to rest, worn out by anxiety and frustration. There was no way to judge how far we'd gone, how long we'd been at it.

"How are you doing?" I asked Mom during one of our stops. Wolstan had been carrying her again, and she was no longer complaining.

"I wonder if I'd feel better if I died," she said. She was sitting with her knees drawn tight up to her chest, her face buried in her arms.

I glanced around for help, but none of the others seemed to have heard. The thought was scary, even in the context of the game.

"I—" I started, having no idea how I was going to end.

"Shhh," hissed Robin, and a moment later I heard it too, the clump of heavy booted feet, the jangle of armor.

I jumped to my feet. "Let's get out of here."

"No," Thea argued. "The only way we'll ever escape is to find someone who knows his way around. Let's move down to that corridor entrance and hide. See what comes."

"What if whatever comes, comes down that corridor?" I asked, disoriented by the echoes.

"
You've
got a sword," she pointed out. "I don't know what you're worried about."

Ouch.
A slam against my valor. I pulled the dagger from my belt and held it out to her. All the others had iron weapons, which we elves couldn't use; I was the only one with bronze. But it galled her to have to take charity from a Silver Mountains elf, I could tell. And I had to fight my inclination to hoard both weapons, just in case.

She snatched the knife. "Cover that torch," she warned Cornelius.

Cornelius, not willing to trust any of us with the treasure box, juggled both items and couldn't manage.

I took the torch, put it on the ground, and sat on it—one advantage to an illusionary light.

Seconds later someone from our group sniffed, very softly.

Carefully I inhaled. It was either two-week-old bacon, or orcs.

They didn't carry torches, since orcs can see perfectly in the dark, but when I glanced out from our side passage, I could see the glint of their eyes. Twelve glowing amber buttons, indicating six orcs. One for each of us. We could handle that. (Or twelve one-eyed orcs walking in pairs. We could handle that too, just not as easily.) Either way, I'd be fast, so I could help my mother with hers.

So softly she could barely be heard, Thea said, "Ready?"

I put my left hand on the shaft of the torch. Somebody had to bring it, or we wouldn't be able to find the orcs when they blinked. My right hand already held my sword.

"Go!"

We leapt out of our hiding spot. Holding the torch, I could see the surprise on the faces of the orcs before we bowled into them.

The trouble with orcs is, even though they're stupid, they're born fighters. I mean, that's an orc's idea of a good time—battle, pillage, and burn. You can surprise them, but the advantage doesn't last more than two seconds.

I found myself faced up against an old veteran of an orc who was missing one ear. Instead of a sword, he had this enormous club, about as big around as my waist, with metal spikes sticking out of it. When the orc saw me, he grinned, displaying many sharp teeth.

"Heh, heh, heh, warrior elf," he said, though it sounded like what he meant was:
Oh, nice—white meat for a change.

Thea may have wanted someone to lead us out of the caves, but I certainly wasn't going to mess around trying to convince this guy to play tour guide.

I tried for a quick jab, but the orc skipped back out of my way, faster than you'd have expected from such a stumpy, twisted body.

"Heh, heh, heh, warrior elf," he said again.

I feinted to the right, then swung my sword to the left.