Book 3: Chapter Thirty-Six

“So are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?” Corec asked Bobo the day after the battle, as the two men loaded weapons from the armory into the hand-drawn carts their attackers had used for carrying supplies.

It had been a busy morning. They’d moved their camp again at first light, farther away from the bodies, and then Razai had shown up a short time later saying she’d tracked eleven of the mercenaries east before scaring them off. Then, Boktar, Sarette, and Josip had left to accompany the wagon drivers on their trip back to Livadi, along with one of the group’s own wagons. They planned to meet up with the smaller caravan on the way. Boktar and Sarette would lead the small group to Tir Yadar while Josip and Lufton took the five original drivers, and the extra wagon, back to the village to resupply for another trip.

Bobo had regained consciousness just before noon. He’d seemed mostly recovered, so Corec had recruited him to help with the armory.

“It was wonderful!” the man replied. “For a short time, I knew exactly what to do and I wasn’t afraid to do it. I don’t remember everything—it’s starting to fade—but I think I could do it again if I had to. Some of it, anyway. Maybe.”

“But what was it? Razai thinks you’re a priest.” Corec had already used his warden senses to confirm that Bobo was indeed a mage now.

“I always told you I was a priest of the Fox.”

“You were a fake priest—” Corec stopped talking when he saw Bobo’s wide grin. “You’re just saying that to annoy me, aren’t you?”

Bobo laughed. “Of course I am. But whatever happened, it was a divine blessing. I’m certain of that, though I couldn’t tell you how I know.”

“Then one of the gods did choose you as a priest?”

“It appears so,” Bobo said. Then he chuckled. “I guess whoever it was doesn’t have very good judgement. Or maybe I was the only one available.”

“You don’t know which god it was?”

“Who can say? Treya never did find out which god chose her. I tried to get her to talk about her own experience, but she was reluctant.”

“You don’t seem surprised by any of this,” Corec said.

“Oh, I was and I am. But yesterday, there was a moment of … I guess I’d call it clarity. For that brief bit of time, everything felt right, like the world was exactly how it was supposed to be. It hasn’t quite worn off yet. Later, I’m certain I’ll go over the battle in my mind and realize how insanely stupid I acted, but for now, I’m able to put that to the side.”

Corec nodded. “So, you can heal people, like Treya does?”

“Sadly, healing isn’t one of my blessings. I only received what I needed in that precise moment. I could fight and defend myself, and banish the priests’ spells. It’s more complicated than that, but I’ve forgotten a lot of it already. I hope I’ll remember it if I ever need it again.”

“Well, from what Boktar and Razai told me, if it wasn’t for you, they couldn’t have held the line against those priests. Those other priests. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bobo said, giving Corec a contented smile before continuing his work of loading up the carts.

Corec returned to the job too. He had a lot of thinking to do. His warden senses could identify a mage if he concentrated, but he had another sense that he wasn’t sure how to explain—that strange sense of familiarity he’d experienced when meeting Razai, Sarette, and Leena. He suspected it had begun before that, but he hadn’t been experienced enough to distinguish it until he’d met Razai. It didn’t always happen. Some mages, like the enemy Seeker or Leena’s fellow Travelers, didn’t trigger the feeling at all.

He believed it had something to do with choosing mages for the warden binding spell, even though Yelena and Hildra hadn’t mentioned anything like it.

Now, he was experiencing the same sensation again, with Bobo.

And with Ariadne.

#

The next day, Corec and Ellerie headed to the palace to retrieve the armor and weapons from the room where they’d found the two spell books. They were both carrying lanterns, and Corec was holding a stack of blankets under one arm.

“How long do you think you’ll stay here in the barrens?” he asked her.

“You’re worried about another attack?”

“Yes. We got lucky this time, but the snake cult knows where to find us now. Taking away their Seeker won’t help if we stay in the same spot.”

“Boktar and Sarette will be back in five days with the small caravan. The big caravan will take ten or twelve days, I think. Nine wagons total. How much time will that give us?”

“Maybe twenty days, including what we have on hand,” Corec said. “The small caravan’s only bringing enough to stretch our supplies until the big caravan arrives, and if you’re thinking of leaving soon, we’ll need to keep those wagons here, which means we’ll have to keep feeding all those mules.” Once they set aside space for enough hay and oats to feed over sixty horses and mules, it would only leave them with, at most, three empty wagons—two of which would be needed just to transport the equipment from the armory.

“Twenty days, and it’ll take seven to return to Livadi,” Ellerie said. “Let’s wait for the big caravan to return, then head back. That should leave us an extra day or two in case there’s a problem.”

“Will that give you enough time here?”

She sighed. “I could stay for months and not discover everything there is to know. Or Ariadne might tell me more in five minutes than I could ever have hoped to learn on my own.”

Treya had passed along several revelations from her conversation with the Chosar woman. Ellerie and Bobo hadn’t seemed too shocked about Tyrsall being one of the Ancient cities, saying the idea had already been theorized by some historians, if only because of the name. They’d been more surprised about Terrillia, and about the fact that Ariadne had never seen a dwarf before.

“Has she spoken to you at all?” Corec asked.

“No. I looked for her yesterday, but she was never around.”

“I ran into her near the barracks, and then I saw her again when I escorted Marco to the northern colonnade. She’d turned on the lights on the third level. We really need to find out how she does that.”

“Did she tell anyone where she was going?”

“Not that I know of, but it’s not like we can stop her. This was her home.”

Ellerie nodded. “Hopefully she’ll come with us and answer some questions. In the meantime, ten days will give me enough time to finish mapping out the southern section. I’d like to explore the city in more depth, but I’ll just have to hope I can come back someday to continue the work.”

They’d reached the royal quarters, so Corec passed his lantern to Ellerie and summoned two mage lights, lighting up the chambers.

As they made their way to the formerly locked alcove, they passed a small oval table surrounded by ceramic shards. The table itself was empty.

“Did someone take the fox and the owl figurines?” Corec asked.

“Marco wanted them so I brought them out last night, but I convinced him to leave the two sets of big statues alone—and what’s left of the furniture. It’s not like we could have hauled that stuff anyway. He’s willing to negotiate on some of the other artwork he’s found.”

“So you told him about your plan?” Corec said, stopping near the alcove. He added another mage light, illuminating the suit of armor on its stand, and the weapons that still hung from the wall.

“I’m not sure it’s really a plan yet, but yes,” Ellerie said. “He was willing to listen.”

“Do you think Varsin and Burton will agree to it?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I don’t know. They’ll receive a nice profit from the expedition, but they’re already wealthy. The money may not mean that much to them, and Varsin really wants to push the Senshall name as being responsible for the discovery of the city. He won’t be able to do that if he can’t provide the location.” She hesitated before continuing. “I may have something that’ll convince him, though.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t tell Marco yet, but those spell books I found, I think they might be worth more than I thought. One of them in particular.”

“Enough to change Varsin’s mind? I didn’t realize spell books were so expensive.”

“It’s not so much the spells but the other information. Bobo thinks it gives instructions on how to create the metals the Ancients used. The Chosar, I suppose I should say.”

“The ones from their weapons and armor?”

“Maybe. The descriptions seem to match.”

“A light-weight metal that’s stronger than steel? You’re right, that’d be worth a lot.”

“Not as much as it sounds—the part we’ve translated so far seems rather complicated, and it requires a wizard—but it’s got to be worth something. It might be enough. But we want to make sure it works before we say anything about it.”

“Hildra might be able to help,” Corec suggested.

Ellerie frowned, but nodded. “If she’s a mage and a smith, I suppose she might have some ideas. We’ll have to be careful, though—the book won’t be worth anything if we give away the information for free.”

“Ahh, you’re worried that if she sees the book, she could create the metal herself?”

“Maybe. I’m still trying to figure out how we’d actually sell something like this. How much is the book worth? And is it worth more if we sell it just one time, or if we make copies?”

“Senshall buys and sells iron and copper. They have contracts with the mines and the forges.”

Ellerie appeared deep in thought. “Sell it to Senshall? Or sell our share of it, I mean? That might work. Let’s not say anything yet, though. Not until we know more.”

Corec nodded, then turned his attention back to the alcove, dropping the blankets to the floor and unrolling them. He lifted the maul from the weapon rack first. It started humming, and yellow sparks of light swirled around it.

“I think it’s lighter than before,” he said, setting it to the side. The hammer’s hum and glow faded while he took the two longswords from the rack. One of the swords was ornate, still in its metallic scabbard. The other was plain, with no scabbard, though the two metal bands ringing the blade suggested there had been one originally. Corec slid the bands off, then laid the two weapons on one of the blankets and rolled them up into a bundle.

Ellerie tried to lift the maul, but it wouldn’t budge. “It got heavier for Boktar. Maybe it got lighter for you because it’s bonded to you the way the sword is.”

“What am I going to do with two weapons nobody else can carry?” he asked. “The sword’s bad enough. I can’t even strap the damned thing to my horse.” Despite the awkward length of the blade, Corec was forced to wear his sword harness while riding, which required angling it in such a way that the scabbard wasn’t bouncing against the horse’s side. If he tied the harness and scabbard to the saddle, it triggered the warding that made the sword much heavier. The horse could carry it, but not if Corec intended to ride as well. Luckily, the horse didn’t activate the weapon’s pain warding.

Ellerie snickered. “I can’t help you with that. Are you ready for the armor?”

“I shouldn’t touch it, right?” Corec asked, eyeing the panoply. It was made from the same dull, brownish-gray metal as the hammer.

“I wouldn’t. Its warding looks similar to your sword’s.” Ellerie pulled one of the blankets closer, then picked up another to cover her hands. “I don’t see any straps,” she said, peering at the armor.

Corec had been examining it too. “No. If it had straps, they’d have rotted by now, and the armor would have fallen off the stand. I think some of these little square plates are latches.”

Ellerie handed him the blanket she was holding, and he used it to lift the helmet off the stand and move it out of the way. Then he unfastened one of the metallic latches holding the breastplate to the backplate.

“Yes, that did it,” he said. He reached for the next latch, but his hand slipped off the blanket and brushed against the armor. There was an immediate shock of pain shooting from his hand up to his elbow, and then a burning sensation, as if he’d pulled a hot cooking pan from the fire.

“Aaugh!” he shouted, jerking his hand away. The blanket fell from his grasp. “Bloody hell!” There was a scorch mark running from his thumb down to his palm and wrist, and another crossing his next three fingers. He could smell burned flesh.

“Shit!” he said, wincing in pain. “Is that what it was like when you touched my sword?” He showed Ellerie his hand.

Her eyes widened. “No, nothing like that. That looks bad. We should get back to Treya.”

Corec didn’t argue. The pain wasn’t getting any better. “I’ll come back tomorrow with my chain gloves and gauntlets,” he said, grabbing the shaft of the maul with his uninjured hand and bracing the weapon over his shoulder. “Maybe that’ll work.”

Ellerie gathered up the bundle with the swords and the two of them left the alcove, finding Marco entering the royal quarters.

“I thought I’d collect the pieces of the other figurines, in case we can put them back together,” the factor said. Then he nodded in the direction of the maul, which had started glowing again when Corec picked it up. “If you want to keep that, it has to come out of your share.”

Corec wasn’t sure why he did what he did next—the other man was just doing his job, and Corec actually sort of liked the fellow most of the time—but he was still in a lot of pain. Plus, he had plans for his share. He needed money and the weapons and armor from the armory if he was going to hire and equip a group of armsmen to counter Rusol’s red-eyes. He couldn’t do that if he had to spend his entire share on an enchanted weapon he had no use for—one that likely couldn’t be sold, if no one else could even lift it.

“Here you go,” he said, swinging the maul off his shoulder and dropping it headfirst to the floor, leaving the shaft pointing up. “It’s all yours. If you or anyone else can take it, then we’ll sell it and divide up the shares. If not, I’m coming back tomorrow and taking it for myself, since it apparently wants me to. And no, it won’t be coming out of my share.”

Marco stood there, his mouth gaping open as Corec strode off, Ellerie following him. By the time they reached the doorway, they could hear the other man grunting as he strained to lift the hammer.

#

Treya rubbed Corec’s hand with a damp cloth, brushing away the last of the burn marks to reveal the healed skin beneath. “It’s done,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied. “Maybe you should go in with me tomorrow in case my gauntlets and gloves don’t help.”

“Why not just leave the armor where it is? We’re leaving that statue because it’s warded.”

Corec shrugged. “Well, the statue’s also bigger and harder to move, but you’re probably right. Who’s going to buy a suit of armor they can’t even wear? I might as well give it one more try, though. I’ve got to go back to grab the maul anyway.”

She snickered. “I can’t believe you did that to Marco.”

“I should probably go apologize to him, but I’m not going to pay for the maul out of my share. If he’s going to be an ass about it, I’ll just leave it here.”

Treya nodded. The two of them planned to pool their shares with Katrin, Shavala, and Sarette so they could afford to hire armsmen to help face any other attack Prince Rusol might send their way.

“What should I do with the prisoners?” she asked, changing the subject. “If I heal them any further, they’ll be up and about. Nedley and Razai traded off watching them today while I was busy, but with Boktar, Josip, and Sarette gone, it doesn’t leave us with many people to pull guard duty.”

Corec glanced at the building where they were keeping the wounded mercenaries. “I don’t know. Ned’s got to take care of the animals, too, and everyone needs to take watch shifts at night. We really don’t have enough people to be watching over prisoners. What about that thing you did to those two red-eyes to make sure they couldn’t hurt anyone? With the runes?”

“Des and Arnol? I don’t think it works like that. Whatever it was that I did, it was to stop them from ever again committing a specific crime that I witnessed them committing. I don’t think I can just … do it anytime I want, for any reason. I’m not sure this group did anything wrong other than believing the others’ lies.” She didn’t mention that one of them had admitted he’d realized the cult members were lying. Corec wasn’t likely to kill the men for that, but Treya wasn’t sure how Ellerie or Razai would feel. Or Leena.

Corec sighed. “I guess we need to find a way to lock them up. Maybe one of the rooms inside the mountain that has a working door.”

“One of the warded doors?”

“I don’t know if air can get through those, but there are some other metal doors that are still intact. Ellerie knows a mage lock spell—I think those can be used on doors.” Then he chuckled. “Or if Leena’s strong enough to carry a wooden door, she could buy one for us and bring it here, and we could use it for the room they’re in now. We’d just need some lumber to frame it.”

“It’d be easier to carry meals to them if they’re inside our camp than if they’re under the mountain.”

He nodded. “I’ll talk to her about it. For now, see if Katrin can help keep watch. I think she could stop them if they tried to get away.”

Ariadne approached then, still wearing her armor, and gave them both a solemn nod.

“I have found an appropriate spot to lay the Mage Knights to rest,” she said. “On the eastern slope of Mount Yadar, near the marshaling yards, there was once a memorial honoring the dead of the Second Demon War. The memorial and the yards are gone now, but it’s a fitting place to honor the heroes of the Third Demon War.”

Treya glanced at Corec. The wars were something Ellerie would want to know about, but it didn’t seem like the right time to ask.

“Nedley and I will dig the graves tonight,” Corec said. “Tomorrow, we can start …” He trailed off, apparently uncomfortable speaking to the Chosar woman about her dead compatriots.

Treya could understand how he felt. As she understood it, in Ariadne’s mind, they’d been alive just a few days ago.

“I will bring them out from the stasis pods,” Ariadne said. “The carts will suffice, but I will require assistance.”

“Just let us know what you need.”

She stared off into the distance. “Will Owl be able to find us here? He should really attend the ceremony, but if people no longer live here, perhaps we won’t attract his attention.”

“Owl?” Treya asked.

“Of course. The Mage Knights defeated the demon armies. It’s only appropriate for Owl to attend the burial ceremony.”

“No—I mean, who is Owl?”

Ariadne grew still. “You do not know Owl?” Her voice wavered. “Do people no longer follow the ways of Wisdom?”

“Is he like the old gods?” Corec asked. “Fox and Bear and Raven?”

“You know them, but not Owl?” The Chosar woman swayed, bracing her hand against a wall for support. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only heard of those three. So he is one of the old gods?”

“Only your people call them gods, as if they were made-up stories like all the other gods you invent any time you wish. But your gods offer no proof of their existence. Only the totems make themselves known to us.”

The animal statues Treya and Corec had first found on the western slope of the mountain had included a fox and a bear, as well as a bird that might have been a raven. One of the others had been an owl. The same seven animals had been depicted near the palace.

“Your totems,” Treya said, “are there seven of them? Like the statues in your fortress?”

“Eight,” Ariadne said. “You refer to the totem walk in the courtyard. There are eight totems, but Snake isn’t welcome in Tir Yadar.”

Corec drew in a sharp breath. “Snake?”