It would hurt if you ran into it, but nothing else happened. There had been times when the invisible barrier had simply been an indestructible wall. It was obvious why the pebbles were being chucked: They did not disappear straight away when they met the shimmering. This was a ritual that never ever changed. The little stone bounced back and landed at the tip of the creature’s boots. The air hissed and flashed, for a second turning opaque like murky water and stopping the pebble’s flight. Yawning, it picked up a pebble and idly chucked it. The creature sat down on the ground next to the shimmering. As the rusty brown metal blade scraped against the rock floor, it collected yet more dents and notches. It grunted and kicked at the black wall of rock, then strolled up to the edge, trailing an over-long sword. As it chewed it occurred to the creature that not one of the hundreds of its own kind could remember a time when the air had not shimmered.

Thankless and boring.Īfter a while it picked up and ate a yellow beetle emerging from under a moldering thighbone on the ground. On the orders of the Strongest One it had to keep watch from dawn to dusk and immediately report any changes to the quivering vibrations in the air. It gave a sigh of relief and then another yawn. It adjusted the armor that was pressing uncomfortably on its balls. With two of its sixteen fingers it explored the short dark fur under the dirty armor, scratched itself and yawned. The nameless creature sent a long green tongue over the skin of its doglike face, revealing needle-sharp teeth. Ten paces ahead the shimmering made everything on the far side appear hazy. The thin-armed creature stepped cautiously out of the shadow of a rock and blinked. T he air was filled with the smell of bone dust, ice-cold stone and frosty damp.

The fate of the dwarves markus heitz