He breathed in the familiar scent of sand and desert sky. It was old country, but everything was different now.

At long last, it was time for Dorn to return home. It had been four long months since the Gloam had chased them from the valley, and longer still since life had been “normal” in a sense.

Life will never be normal again, Dorn thought, as he followed the other Dwarves across the bridge. Now that Gus was gone, not only would the lives of the Freewheelers be changed, but Dorn was about to step into a huge position of leadership not only in their gang but in Sunstone Valley.

The Dwarves had suffered a lot, starting with the attack at the Rumbledome one Friday evening that had left their peaceful villages in tatters. That’s when the Freewheelers knew that Gloam armies had returned to the realm after years of exile. Like everyone in Sacred Grove, the native creatures of Sunstone Valley were hosts of all sorts of natural magicks, but it paled chiefly in comparison to the forces of dark mana the Gloam had harnessed throughout their time terrorizing Sacred Grove.

After the Gloam’s attacks had driven the Dwarves into mass exodus of their home in Sunstone Valley, they had been forced to relocate into Shrouded Glade, the home of the Druids. It was a difficult decision, and Dorn probably wouldn’t have come to it without Gus. He had been so sure it was their only choice, despite being firmly disliked by the stuffy Druids. They seemed to believe they were better than the Dwarves, possibly other races as well, because of their prodigal skill and knowledge in magicks, and their beloved Magic Academy in the northern mountains. Luckily, the Royal Guard’s reinforcements had been enough to bridge the Druids and the Dwarves so that the Gloam invasion in Shrouded Glade could be staunched. Dorn’s

brother, Gus, and the Gloam’s General, Drahk, had traded fire in the final hour of the battle and the two sides were at a stalemate. Leaderless, the Gloam were forced to flee. And Dorn had been left to rally the Dwarves and lead them back into the homeland.

The day had finally come to go home. But the acrid tang of smoke in the air was enough for Dorn to realize that Sunstone Valley was no longer a safe haven. Their homes were shells of what they had been, battered and still smoking. Manguana were everywhere, pushed up the cliffs from the remains of the Gloam that still hung around in the valley.

“What do we do?” asked one of the others, Sindri.

“Yeah, Dorn, what are we supposed to do now?”

The crowd’s murmurs rose, as did Dorn’s panic. For the thousandth time since Gus had fallen, he wished his brother was here. He knew what they must do; they had to take back the valley. It would be harder than it sounded.

And it was up to him, now, to lead them.