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Heather sat crouched behind another tall stone column, wincing with the rattle and crash of the chamber as heavy stones continued to fall from the ceiling and smoke and flames filled the air, now and then opening with a gust of wind to show snapshots of the battle further toward the rear of the room.
Daemi and Wilt had carved their way through to the mud pool, and the three gloomclaws Heather had watched rise from it were now either in pieces on the ground or had been sent back to whatever lay at the bottom of that swirling gunk.
‘Wait here,’ Higgs had said, pushing himself out from their hiding place, his sling still spinning and loosing missiles at the remaining workers and servants milling about in confusion.
Heather was quite happy to get a moment to herself, reaching inside her
