Page 103 of Shadow Throne King

“We need to get to the bottom,” I yelled at the three badgers who had led us to freedom.

The bright daylight had turned hazy orange from the thick clouds of smoke. Entire families of dwarves were coming down the mountain, children clutched in parents’ arms, possessions held on their backs. I saw men and women wearing the markings of their guilds calling back and forth, eyes wide as they exchanged information.

I didn’t need to speak Krustavian to know that not everyone was going to make it off the mountain.

But it was too late. Only a few yards up the mountain, lava exploded out of one of the dwarven tunnels, setting fire to trees. I turned to run but found our way blocked by more flames.

Dwarves panicked, screaming, and I knew I should reach for ice, should at leasttry,even if it killed me?—

A wall of stone and earth rose up in front of us, creating a dam against the oncoming lava and around us burning trees were sucked into the earth as though watching them grow in reverse. The ground flaming leaves lingering briefly on the surface before disappearing under the dirt.

For a moment there was silence, and I looked around. What had once been a mountainside forest was now an empty clearing in which dust hung thick in the air. In the center of the clearing stood Vostop, his hands extended and his face covered in ash.

Beside him, Koque cradled Hallu. She raised her chin and spoke in fluent Krustavian, the language sounding strange in her mouth. Whatever she said, the dwarves murmured among themselves before moving en masse down the mountain, panic building once they hit the burning trees on the far side of the empty circle Vostop had created with his magic.

We made our limping way to Koque and Vostop. The badgers followed us, murmuring to themselves about the display of dwarven magic.

“Let’s go,” Koque said, tugging on Vostop’s shoulder. Pito and Topi had already fled, only visible in the mass of dwarves because of their height. “My love, we mustgo.”

Ash rained down around us, covering our skin with thick white flakes that looked like the frost I had covered Tallu and Iradîo in earlier. Rivulets of lava burst from the tunnels the dwarves had opened into the mountainside farther up. Some flowed down over the edge of the mountain, and I could hear a screeching hiss as it hit the water, a scream of sound almost as loud as the thundering explosion at the top.

“There are still more dwarves in the mountain,” Vostop said, his face creased deeply, the ash packing into his wrinkles. “I can help them.”

“And die trying. Koque already named you King of the Shadow Throne,” Tallu said. With a start, I realized that Tallu spoke Krustavian, and he knew what Koque’s graceful phrases had meant. Tallu pointed at the wall of stone and earth that was the only thing keeping the lava back. “You have saved all who were here. You have saved the survivors of Mountain Thrown City. You have taken the crown your cousin betrayed. You are king of your people. Now, act like it!”

“How can my first act as king be to save my own skin at the expense of their lives?” Vostop pointed up at the mountain.

“Because to kill yourself now is to doom your people,” Tallu said sharply. “Be the king your cousin could not be. Know when you must sacrifice to save them. You wear a heavy crown. Can you bear it?”

Vostop spun on Tallu, and for a moment, he fisted his hand, and I was sure that he was going to strike Tallu. Then he shook his head, dropping his hands and looking at the badger kits still nestled inside Tallu’s shirt. “My first royal act is to leave all those still in the city to their deaths?”

“Your first royal act is to save those you could and, with them, the future of your people.” Tallu nodded. “King Vostop, what will you do?”

I could feel the heat growing as the lava pooled behind Vostop’s wall. Soon, it would flow around the wall or over it. We had so little time.

Vostop turned and led the way down the mountain. The forest parted in front of him, trees sliding into the earth as he made a path to safety for the survivors.

By the time we reached the bottom of the mountain, the badgers were stained pale gray. The oldest slowed, but I bent low, struggling to find the words.

“No slow. We have to…” Speaking in animal tongue felt awkward. I could feel the word I wanted, but I couldn’t force it out. Finally, I said lamely, “Go. Around the lake.”

The badger snuffled my face, her damp nose pressing against my cheek. “All right, little one. Take care of our kits. They may be the last of the mountain badgers that live.”

Then she followed me, her waddling pace slow compared to the panicked dwarves around us. I looked back, and Tallu had collapsed onto his knees, breathing harshly. I grabbed hold of his elbow, dragging him up. We couldn’t stop.

The Krustavians spread over the open plain, falling into the Imperium with no sense of borders, just a desperation to getaway from their home. We looked up at the mountain, or at least what was left of it.

Even from a distance, the heat was unbearable, a staggering, relentless pressure that left me feeling breathless. Around us, the dwarves had stopped as well, their eyes turned upward to where the mountain spewed lava and ash. Mountain Thrown City was gone, along with anyone who hadn’t been able to get out.

A keening wail arose in Vostop’s throat, caught by those around him, a mourning sound that echoed between people, turning into a chorus. It was almost like a song. No, itwasa song. I could imagine this layered melody of grief being sung in the tunnels, the narrow spaces up and down the mountain echoing with it.

“It is good here,” one of the badgers said. “Among the mountain people, we will be safe.”

“Come with us,” I said.

“And go where?” The badger snorted. “North? To live in your buildings and cities? No. We are here with the dwarves. They know our pain.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the warm bodies of the kits I held in my shirt, listening to the dwarven voices raised in a song of mourning.