Page 93 of Oath of Rebellion

The one good thing about the storm was it kept the flytraps and assassin vines from attacking. They turned north, and he pushed Ryder hard to get to the dwarves.

Chapter 33

WHEN KNOX FINALLY RODE into the dwarven little stronghold, it was well past dark, and the rain had turned to a steady downpour. He'd cursed himself for racing out of Hartsgrove and forgetting both their cloaks in the kitchen.

He stopped his horse at the large, long wooden building, eight small cottages stretching around it in a semi-circle with four on each side. He knew from past visits that they were connected through tunnels below.

He slid from Ryder's back and fell to his knees with a grunt, juggling Eirwyn in his arms to keep her from hitting the ground. His legs felt like he'd run the entire way himself, and he was drained. His body shook from the cold front, his clothes wet, his skin tingling. The front door opened, and a short man half his size frowned into the rain.

"Knox, is that you?"

Knox grunted an answer and slowly stood. He carried Eirwyn to the front door to stoop inside. Thankfully, the dwarven homes had taller ceilings in the main lodge.

Krys waved him over to the fire and shut the door behind him. "Set her by the fire before she catches a cold. What seems to be the problem? Who is she?"

Knox laid her down on the dirty, threadbare rug. "Hit her head," he grunted, kneeling on his feet and brushing the hair gently from her forehead. He winced at the knot at her hairline. "She's my mate," he said softly.

"Bloody hells, did you say mate?" Ashur said, standing in a doorway.

Knox blinked, trying to make sense of his friend. "Ashur? What are you doing here?"

Then Ashur's eyes narrowed on his head. "Fisica protect us," he whispered.

Knox shook his head, turning away from him. He couldn't deal with him right now, not when he was so close to saving Eirwyn. "Help her," he asked Krys.

Krys strode to the hallway to the left and yelled, "Flint, Jasper, Mica, get in here."

Footsteps came swiftly, and three more dwarves came into view. They wore various shades of brown pants, green and red shirts, and sturdy but dirty leather boots. When they saw Knox' head without the hood, they began to whisper to each other, but Knox didn't care. He just wanted them to save Eirwyn.

"She should've woken up by now," he said, turning to stare up at Krys. "She hit her head just after lunch. It's been hours. Why isn't she waking up?"

Krys was the oldest with white hair that stuck in every direction and a full white beard.

He looped his thumbs in his suspenders and shook his head. "I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Flint, bring Knox' horse to the stable and see he's tended to. Jasper, get the medicine kit. Mica, do you have any of the pain cream left?"

The three nodded and turned to run down the hall while Krys knelt and began to inspect Eirwyn for more injuries. From the other hall came three more dwarves. The youngest, Copper, gasped when he saw Knox' head. He appeared around Knox' age but Knox knew they were actually much, much older.