The doorway was heavy and the attack had cost Grath’s group many lives. Lives were nothing; they were to be spilled for the Masters. But they had barely enough to lift the portal to the level of Grath’s knees, much less set it back upright. It was heavy metal with a concrete base and no matter how they struggled they could not get it more than a meter off the ground.

Tur-uck suddenly let go and dropped to his hands and knees, scuttling under the doorway.

“Come back here, you coward!” Grath shouted, his voice made guttural by the Changes to his throat and the large canine tusks in his mouth.

“I’m going to get help!” Tur-uck shouted, but he knew he was too late. Already more of the humans were charging Grath’s remaining orcs and from the far side there would be no way to raise the doorway.

Tur-uck jumped upward, exiting the portal near its top and falling through the air without a cry to thump to the ground on the far side. His ears were immediately assaulted by the blessed sound of thousands of orcs, angrily balked by the fallen doorways. One of them kicked him as he rolled across the ground, but that was more in the way of a greeting than in anger. It was simple courtesy to kick someone when they were down.

“You!” one of the Lesser Masters shouted, striding forward and waving back the orcs that were gathered around the mirrorlike portal. “Where did you come from? What in the hell is happening?”

“Master!” Tur-uck groveled, rolling to his hands and knees and bowing his head. “The humans have taken the portals and tipped them over! We tried to right them but we were about to be overwhelmed. I returned to bring word, Master!”