The Seventh Master- 35

“Are you all right?” Jerun asked behind him. The dwarves were ignoring them completely.
Val nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, really.” Val almost winced as he told his guardian the lie. But Jerun didn’t need to know. Actually, he shouldn’t know, because if he did he would try to escape, and the dwarves would kill him, or worse, try to kill all of them.
That, to say the least, wouldn’t work out very well. At all. Val shook his head and kept walking. The sheer barrenness of this underground world was disturbing. He had read how the land of the dwarves had once been a underland garden of unparalleled beauty and splendor. That was before Rutar, many many years ago. He knew it had changed. He had hoped it wouldn’t have been so… dead, though.
Val sighed. He had read the journals of all but the Third Master. Each one had been stunned by the devastation caused by the Dark One of their time. But he knew that this was worse. Rutar was the Dark One…


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