Aloud, explosive crack, followed immediately by another, brought the umber hulk’s menacing advance to an abrupt halt. The bone-plated beast jerked upright and let loose a chittering squeal as its mandibles ground and clattered in rage and surprise. The beast lurched forward for half a step, propelled by invisible blows from behind, then whirled about with its arms out-flung. The umber hulk’s huge talons gouged furrows through the metal bulkheads. Teldin saw a pair of splintered, bloody holes in the creature’s bony hide, just over the left shoulder.
“Second section-spears at ready!” boomed a familiar, deep voice from the far end of the hall. Teldin stood flabbergasted; it was Gomja. Over the umber hulk’s chittering roar the yeoman heard high-pitched voices launch into long tirades. “Belay the prattle!” the voice boomed again. Before any more could be said, the wounded umber hulk crashed into its attackers.
Screams of metal, beast, and gnomes sang through the corridor. In the dim light at the end, the umber hulk was a flailing shadow of rage as its claws rose and fell. A small body hurtled over its shoulder, splattering blood across the ceiling. The disemboweled projectile landed near the overmaster as the neogi crouched against the wall. “Lordservant kill!” the vile little fiend shrieked. “Hateful meat I will kill.” Malicious fire gleamed in its eyes as the neogi looked toward Teldin, who wobbled on his feet in the corridor. The umber hulk howled with renewed fury.
Warily scuttling closer on its spider legs, the overmaster bobbed and weaved its small head, looking for an opening to deliver a vicious bite. It moved its body like a fencer, head and neck like the sword. It feinted, then riposted when Teldin’s thrusts carried him past the mark, and the supple neck dodged Teldin’s strikes with artful ease.
Teldin’s every block and thrust grew weaker. The adrenaline and fear that had sustained his body for so long were fading, leaving only a hollow shell. The concentration it took to battle the overmaster simply was not there. With each strike, the neogi edged closer to Teldin, confident that soon it would make the kill.
“Meat, surrender,” the overmaster crooned confidently. “Only cloak I want. Failed your friends have. Most powerful my lordservant is. Help you they cannot. Their dying you hear.” The raging screams of battle still issued from the hallway. Teldin paused for a moment, listening to the neogi’s words, and the overmaster lunged at the opportunity. The tottering human barely beat back the attack. “Cloak you give me, human. Then kill you I will not-eat you I will not. With cloak offer generosity I can. Only slave you will be.”
Teeth clenched, Teldin lunged forward. Eversharp nipped the neogi’s shoulder and tore away the little spider- thing’s robe, revealing the brown-furred body underneath.
“No! I can still kill you!” The cloakmaster seethed, but his timing and speed were off. Before he could recover, the neogi darted in and struck. Rows of razored teeth clamped down of Teldin’s forearm, biting almost to the bone.
“Aaahh!” Teldin screamed as first pain, then numbness seized his arm. His fingers spasmed, releasing Eversharp, which clattered to the floor. The neogi clung on and, with a vicious tug, threw the farmer to his knees. The overmaster twisted the human’s arm, triumphantly forcing his prey to the floor until the little neogi towered over Teldin. The farmer stared up into the neogi’s face, its blood-soaked jaws still clamped on his arm and its little eyes gloating with victory.
“First section! Prepare to fire!” echoed Gomja’s voice over the din. Teldin had forgotten the giff, and a wild notion of rescuing Gomja leaped into his pain-racked mind. The human clung to it, refusing to surrender. His fingers touched his spear haft and weakly wrapped around it.
As Teldin struggled to strike a blow, the corridor erupted in a blast. A wind of steam and debris whipped past the battling pair, and the floor buckled, flinging the two apart. Teldin’s ears were numb, nearly deaf. As the vapor roiled away, the farmer looked down the corridor, searching for the overmaster or umber hulk. The neogi was huddled in a ball across the hallway; all that remained of the umber hulk was a black smear that covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. Something wet loosened from the ceiling and hit the floor with a plop.
The overmaster gaped at the carnage. “Dead-my lord-servant, the neogi said slowly. It almost sounded sorrowful. “Killed it meat did.”
Teldin didn’t wait for the distracted creature to recover, knowing he could not allow the risk. With a desperate lunge, the yeoman thrust Eversharp, catching the overmaster just below the head. The startled neogi gave a squawk of surprise as the human bore down with all his might, driving the spear cleanly through the gray flesh. The legs flailed madly while the overmaster futilely bit and snapped at the shaft. Teldin gripped the lance with both hands to keep the squirming neogi from tearing free. Slowly the death-struggles ceased, until only random spasms shook the dying form. His energy spent, the cloakmaster sagged beside the slain foe.
“Sir!” came Gomja’s voice, muted in Teldin’s ringing ears. The giff lumbered down the hall to where the human lay sprawled. “Sir, you’re alive!”
Teldin weakly pulled himself up as confirmation. “Gomja,” he mumbled with heart-felt relief, “what are you doing here?” The farmer slid back to the floor, and the giff gently eased Teldin to his feet.
“Counterattack, sir. We’ve cleared nearly all of Mount Nevermind.” Cradling Teldin in one big arm, Gomja paused to issue orders to the impatiently waiting gnomes. A squad quickly hurried down the hail to the door at the other end and, with an amazing assemblage of tools and devices, set to work on cutting open the portal. Teldin vaguely wondered if any of them had tried the handle first.
" …attacked by surprise here. Nearly all the neogi were ashore, so there wasn’t much resistance,” Gomja was saying. The human had missed most of the explanation, but he really didn’t care. The giff guided his weakened companion forward. A cry of triumph rose from the gnomes as the door-the entire bulkhead, frame and all-fell in with a crash. Weapons brandished with reckless abandon, the pot-helmed little warriors rushed into the chamber, ignoring Gomja’s shouted commands for order and discipline.
Luck was with the gnomes, for the room was deserted. It appeared to be the bridge, for in the center of the room was a large chair that Teldin guessed was the captain’s. A long table, spread with charts, stood to one side, and three huge, round portholes dominated the wails, offering a broad view of the lake beneath the ship. Through a single porthole Teldin could see the deck of the Unquenchable not far below. A stream of gnomes scurried down the pier, carrying huge bundles on their backs, while another line hurried from the dreadnought to fetch another load.
Elsewhere on the crater floor Teldin saw the gleam of metal sparsely punctuated by sudden clouds of steam. A scattered line of neogi and their iordservants were being driven away from the gates of Nevermind. Teldin could barely distinguish the shiny forms of the gnome warriors in their pot-topped armor, though their absurd war engines- bizarre catapults and throwing devices-stood out clearly. The gnomes seemed to be winning, perhaps because of their sheer numbers, but the neogi were making an orderly retreat. The farmer weakly wondered why the invaders were retreating toward the far end of the crater.
Suddenly the deck lurched under Teldin’s feet, though not from an explosion, as he had first thought. “Aha!” cried the gnomes with glee. One of their number, nicknamed “Salaman” for Teldin’s benefit, who was an old, puffy-faced fellow with eyes more sagacious than most, who sat in the chair with a look of intense concentration on his face. The deck quivered again, causing the gnomes to cheer once more. Teldin stared back out the porthole for a clue.