Carnifex (Legends of the Nameless Dwarf Book 1) by D.P. Prior Page A

Cloaks didn’t let up. They were doing their duty. They were giving their colleagues time to escape.  
    Without warning, the creature lost its solidity and started to melt into the floor. Only its feet and calves vanished, and then it swiftly re-formed. It spun a circle and tried again, and the same thing happened.
    “What the shog?” Kal said.
    But Carnifex had already worked it out. “Scarolite. The floor—the ceiling of the mine—must have a high density of ore.” Of course it did. There was nothing stronger, and the miners would have left layers of it in the ceilings and walls to bolster the mines against collapse. It didn’t mean there weren’t cave-ins from time to time, only that they were less frequent than they might otherwise have been.
    “So, it’s trapped?” Kal said.
    Carnifex shook his head. “Just limited, is all. But if it heads outside, there’s precious little to stop it entering the city.”
    “Great,” Kal said. “Shogging great.”
    While the creature thrashed about, trying to find stone to merge with, the last of the Red Cloaks made it out of the building. The monster seemed to realize too late, and then charged straight at the doors. As it hit the surrounding wall, it liquefied and passed straight through, and screams swiftly followed.
    Black Cloaks began climbing their way down off the headframe, but Carnifex was already sprinting for the doors. He burst through the one on the right, and Kal took the one on the left.
    Red Cloaks were streaming back toward the platform and forming up in rows. Most of them had shields, which were standard issue in the event of a major incident. The snub nose of the train formed a backdrop to the phalanx rapidly taking shape. More Red Cloaks poured out onto the platforms.  
    Then the philosopher Aristodeus emerged, stooping as he exited the front carriage. His bald head glistened orange, and in one hand he held a rod of black metal, the length of his forearm. Beside him, causing the breath to catch in Carnifex’s throat, was Lucius.
    Thumil’s golden helm bobbed its way back through the phalanx as he went to meet the philosopher.
    Hurried words were exchanged between the two. Lucius joined in, and showed Thumil an open book, which looked like one of the Annals. Rugbeard stepped down from the driver’s seat and immediately tried to snatch the book from Lucius.  
    The creature stooped to grab a fleeing dwarf by the cloak. Carnifex roared and charged, and Kal came with him. The monster started to turn, but Carnifex hit it with a thunderous blow of the pickaxe. Stone sprayed, and the dwarf broke free.
    Kal’s hammer crashed into a leg and took off a chink below the knee. A fist slammed down at him, but Carnifex barged him out of the way. Kal flew into the Red Cloak; his hammer went clattering away across the floor. The dwarf steadied him, and started to drag him away.
    “Go!” Carnifex cried.
    Kal hesitated, but Carnifex bellowed again, and this time the two fled toward the phalanx.
    A granite foot came down. Carnifex rolled beneath it. The ground shook as it struck, and a shock wave rolled through the cavern. The other foot narrowly missed his head, and then he was up, weaving in between kicks and stamps. He took a swing at its torso, chipped off rock, but the creature barely seemed to notice. Stony fingers reached for him. They were quick, far quicker than they should have been. Carnifex ducked, and spun, and hit out with the pickaxe, but this time he may as well have struck water. The monster poured itself into the ground and vanished. Clearly, the scarolite lacked density here.
    His breaths came in rapid gasps. His eyes roamed the floor, waiting for the barest hint of movement. A deathly hush fell over the cavern. He looked back toward the platform.  
    Aristodeus was watching him intently, his metal rod aimed out in front. Lucius was tucked in behind the philosopher, glancing between his book and the cavern. Rugbeard was huffing and puffing,