"Hah!" Jim spat in Walin's direction, who merely turned over with a grunt.

  Fendi Firshield stacked the branches into a neat pile. "Mr. Harad, when do you think Mr. Bilinski's group will meet us?"

  "Tonight, barring complications. They'll arrive with the rest of our cargo." The brown-bearded dwarf set down the flint and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "I'm more worried about what kind of trouble they might run into on the way."

  "You mean—"

  "No, Jim. Not the drink." He sat down, tossing the flint aside. "Toyef's squad chose a route similar to ours, meaning they too might encounter Cynthian patrols. Which means..."

  "As long as Mr. Bilinski adheres to our plan and plays the refugee convincingly, I believe the risk of discovery remains minimal," Fendi said, selecting a suitable flint. "We failed today mostly because of that girl..."

  "Bilinski's group has similar companions," Jim said, casting a quick glance at Caroline Tobias, who was amusing the infant. "I don't know who they're bringing—maybe a homeless kid, a farmer with a limp, or an old man who's about to die. This was the Godmans' scheme, young Fendi. When those 'Fate Devotees' recruited us for this job, one condition was that we must include a vulnerable human—someone weak and helpless. Only then could we convincingly pass checkpoints under the guise of refugees. Even with war displacing thousands, we must leave nothing to chance. And this young lady," he paused, "along with whoever travels with Toyef's group, was chosen by the Godmans, not us. We know nothing about them."

  The young dwarf struck his dagger against the flint, showering the branches with sparks. "So you think the problem is... the people?"

  "Do you think everyone can stay calm and think on their feet like that girl?" Jim leaned toward Fendi's ear. "Who knows who Toyef Bilinski has with him? If they get caught, there's going to be a fight. Toyef's a drunk; he'll grab his flask before his sword. He can't always count on luck."

  Sparks caught the latticed branches, igniting them from within. "That being the case," the young dwarf said, carefully nurturing the nascent flames, "why didn't we refuse this commission from the start?"

  "We couldn't." Jim Harad met Fendi Firshield's gaze, his voice emotionless. "Or rather, we weren't permitted to refuse, my lad. You weren't present that day, but Lord Walin and I understood precisely what rewards this task would yield. Present besides us dwarves was that accursed Duke Duke—the one who assigned us this mission. And a woman—from her attire, one could scarcely tell she was a sorceress. Godman conjurers are far more ostentatious than our northern ones. The Duke promised that upon completion, we'd receive substantial payment. More significantly, he would—" The dwarf paused, drawing a deep breath, unable to control his trembling lips. "He promised to abolish the 'Humanoid Act' and all related statutes, restoring our rightful privileges. Do you comprehend what this means?" He tossed a branch into the fire, causing flames to leap two feet skyward. "It means reclaiming our guilds, our lumber yards, our hired laborers. Meals beyond mere sustenance. Encountering humans without having to look up—or worse, bow down. We could liberate—no, elevate our kin. Give them dignified lives."

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  "But at Cynthia's expense."

  "Yes, at Cynthia's expense."

  Was it the flames growing brighter, or the surrounding darkness deepening? Impossible to discern. Sunset had vanished as night greedily consumed the land, leaving only the eternal dance of firelight.

  "Everything begins at dawn tomorrow, and ends at dawn tomorrow," Jim finally broke the long silence. "We may achieve something monumental—perhaps the greatest achievement for dwarfkind since the Rebellion Era..." He buried his face in his beard. "At least, that's my hope."

  Fendi Firshield rose from beside the fire. "I'll wake Lord Walin," he said, brushing off his trousers. "And fetch some provisions while I'm at it."

  Caroline Tobias passed him without a glance. He didn't look up; she didn't lower her gaze.

  Reaching Lord Walin's side, he shook the elder's shoulder. The older dwarf batted his hand away, muttering drowsily, "Begone! You'll awaken dwarven wrath!"

  Fendi Firshield shrugged and climbed onto Wyrm Ember beside Walin. He tilted his head back, gazing at the night sky.

  (If only dawn would never come,) he thought naively. "But that's impossible, isn't it?" He sighed.

  "Of course it's impossible," came Walin's deep voice from behind. "Having awakened dwarven wrath, don't imagine you'll escape my grasp!" Fendi turned to see the elder dwarf's silhouette emerging at the rock's edge.

  "Easy now, young one," Walin Barklo Vaslov said, laboriously climbing onto the rock. "Hunger woke me." He settled beside Fendi, placing a hand on the younger dwarf's shoulder. "What troubles your mind?"

  Fendi shook his head. "Nothing particular. Just contemplating the night sky..."

  "Ha! I understand, lad." Walin wrapped an arm around Fendi's neck. "You've taken a fancy to that girl, haven't you?"

  The young dwarf stared in shock. "Lord Walin... how could I possibly..."

  "Bah! Merely jesting, boy." Walin tugged at Fendi's soft beard. "I know your concerns, child. If all proceeds as expected, everything resolves by dawn. Either Cynthia falls or we do. For our cause and the welfare of all Crivi's dwarves, this sacrifice—this choice—must be made."

  (Sacrificing Cynthia's people for a choice that barely affects us,) he thought bitterly. "Don't forget what we endured in Crivi, nor what Crivi's people suffered."

  "I'll never forget what we endured. But child," the elder dwarf spoke gravely, "the past isn't present, and memories have no end. We cannot restore fire-ravaged Crivi to her former glory. But our hands can rebuild her, resurrect her, allowing our kin to prosper. For centuries under human shadows, we've known neither freedom nor joy. Under the new regime, we've lost even our dignity, reduced to walking corpses in daylight. Now this opportunity stands before us—a chance to reclaim dignity and power. I won't relinquish it. This is a choice, granted by humans. And," he added firmly, "we have no choice."

  (We did have a choice,) Fendi thought. (We once could have stood with Cynthia's people, united against the Godmans in a desperate struggle. But now, it's too late.) His gaze drifted toward Cynthia's dark walls in the distance. (By dawn, Cynthia becomes the next Crivi—a place of slaughter, screams, blood, and tears.)

  Fendi Firshield broke free from Walin's embrace. "I understand, Lord Walin." He nodded to the elder dwarf. "I completely agree with your assessment. When dawn breaks, or in our moment of crisis—what you call the time for a choice that isn't truly a choice," he jumped down from the rock and headed toward the supply wagon. "I'll choose Cynthia's downfall."