by Jaxon Reed
He looked down at Phanissa, and watched tears trickle down her cheeks. This moment, he thought, this terrible moment, seemed too much to bear. And he was at fault. If only he had not proposed marriage. If only he had not gone back with her to the dressing room. If only he had allowed them to proceed to the reception under the pavilion in a timely manner.
His mistakes compounded upon themselves, each one leading to another until finally resulting in the deaths of people he cared about. And misery for someone he cared for the most.
He squeezed her shoulder, and his heart ached with grief.
“I am so, so sorry. I should not have delayed us. We could have done something. We could have prevented their deaths. It’s all my fault, and I am so sorry.”
Phanissa shook her head, rejecting his apology and effort to claim responsibility at the same time.
She said, “You heard what the constables said. A chronosigil appeared before the cloud descended on them. Whoever was standing in that spot at that time was going to die. This is not your doing. It’s not our doing. It’s not your fault. It’s not their fault.”
Bartimo said nothing for a long while. Together he stood with her, holding her shoulder, as they stared down at the graves.
When he spoke again, it was in calm, measured tones. He was afraid his voice would crack, and he took pains to prevent that from happening. But he found it difficult.
“Ever since my own parents died, I have wanted to start a family of my own. I dreamed of marrying into one of the great families of Refugio to do so. I desperately wanted to marry you, but I also wanted to marry into House Finero. I wanted with all my heart to be a part of this great family. Out of all the ones I knew, this family was the very best, led by your father and mother.
“I was beginning to see Finero as my father, and Ermina as my mother. I hoped to get to know them better with time. To bring them grandbabies, making their family larger and greater along with our own. I wanted to gain from their wisdom, and ask their advice about all our ventures in the years ahead.”
He paused, looking down at the graves.
“Now all that is gone. And the very day that should have brought everyone so much happiness has turned into a day of mourning. We’ve been robbed. Their lives were stolen. We’ve lost your parents . . . our parents . . . and we’ll never have an anniversary without remembering what happened to them.”
He took a deep breath and struggled again to control his emotions before continuing.
“I only wish . . . I only wish it had been me up on that stage, and not them. And I wish that somehow, some way . . . I could have spared you from this.”
She took his hand and squeezed it, and looked up at him in time to see a single tear form in the corner of his eye before he wiped it away.
She felt a surge of sympathy, and deep love for him rushed up within her chest like a fire bursting on dry kindling.
Just as suddenly, bitter anger wiped away all the pain and grief inside her. Anger burned in righteous indignation at the grave injustice and heinous evil committed against her and her husband and her parents.
Her back stiffened, and every muscle in her body tensed with resolve and a sense of purpose. Bartimo locked eyes with her, and he found twin fires of determination shining back at him.
“We know who did this, Bartimo. And she will pay dearly for it!”
-+-
A Globe of Transport appeared in the floating castle’s library, revolving slowly. Hazy yellow light from the large floating orb cast soft golden flickers around the room.
Oldstone pushed back from the large table and regarded the globe carefully. In theory, no one should be able to apparate in without his prior consent, and a transparent protective dome above the castle provided a shield from the elements as well as outside attacks.
Still, one could not be too careful these days. He glanced at Darkstone, standing imperiously with hands on her hips at the opposite end of the table. Her black leather armor covered everything on her body below the neck. She too stared at the globe. She seemed dispassionate, but Oldstone had no doubt she could wreak tremendous destructive power against whoever came through, if necessary.
Thank the Creator for that one, he thought to himself, not for the first time. And thank the Creator she’s on our side. Pity those who are not.
Darkstone had not yet settled on a lair, and for now stayed in her old room upstairs in the castle. This suited Oldstone just fine. Her capabilities would be imminently useful in any sort of scrape with the Troublesome Trio, the Shadow Council, or any additional threat.
Oldstone stood up to see who was coming in, and be ready on the off chance that person was not friendly.
Greystone apparated, and the globe faded behind him. He had an “open invitation” to show up whenever he pleased, the only other wizard besides Darkstone with such privileges. He smiled at both of them, white teeth flashing behind his blond and white beard. The mood in the room palpably elevated with his appearance.
“I should have known it would be you,” Oldstone said.
“Hello, old man! Hello young lady! It’s a beautiful day to serve the Creator and fight evil in all the lands!”
Oldstone took his seat again and motioned for the others to follow.
He said, “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been going through the capital city broadsheets, and I’ve found troubling news from Refugio. It would seem a magical black cloud choked the life out of a couple at their daughter’s wedding.”
He slid the sheet in question across the table. Greystone lifted an eyebrow and skimmed the text without touching it.
Greystone said, “Looks like the same means of death that Trant observed. He and Keel and Margwen received a visitor who was evidently under some sort of punitive spell that struck the man down when he mentioned the Shadow Council.”
Oldstone said, “It appears this spell in Refugio was triggered by a chronosigil. The bride’s parents were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and suffered the consequences. Evidently there’s a spot that newlyweds traditionally stand upon at noon following the ceremony. It was expected they would be there, instead of her parents.”
“Hm. I’m familiar with the groom. It says here his name was Bartimo. I took stock of all the survivors from the skirmish at my village. There was a Bartimo and his sister Bellasondra from Refugio among the few who made it.”
“Our thief was in that battle, too, was he not?”
Greystone nodded. “Yes. All three fought on our side.”
Oldstone said, “I propose a visit. Or rather, I propose you visit the newlyweds and try to learn more.”
“I’ll go,” Darkstone said.
Both men looked at her.
She shrugged. “I’m not doing anything else. You two can keep an eye on things here.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” Greystone said. “I come bearing other news from Norweg. It would appear Prince Dudge’s people have discovered Lok’s hidden tomb.”
Oldstone’s eyes widened. He said, “That could be bad.”
Darkstone said, “Why? What’s the significance of his tomb?”
Oldstone said, “His body was never found. After we killed him, his remaining followers evidently carried the corpse away. They also rounded up most of his magical weapons from the battlefield. It seems amazing, in retrospect, how efficiently everything just . . . disappeared.”
“For decades afterward,” Greystone said, picking up on the story, “it was widely thought Lok would reappear. Fortunately, our man here decapitated him at the end of the fighting. It’s very difficult to heal someone after they lose their head.”
Oldstone nodded. “Most of his neck was severed, it was not a full decapitation. But there was no doubt he was dead, even though the body disappeared in the messy aftermath. It took some doing to convince King Nudge that the dwarf wizard was finished. With no body to show as evidence, and some of his followers still alive to spread rumors, it was only natural that hints of Lok’s return
would surface from time to time. And now someone has found his tomb.”
Darkstone said, “So, within the tomb, presumably his headless body lies in state. And what else? A treasure trove of fabulous weapons? Like what?”
Greystone said, “Well, there was the staff dwarves call Deep Summoner. With it, the bearer can call up rock ogres and other nasty creatures from far below the surface. That one gave us quite a bit of difficulty. There were human items as well, like the Bow of Verity, created by the first Goldstone if memory serves. Had quite a variety of spells imbued in it, but basically its arrows never missed whatever you aimed at. There was the Mystic Lance. I forget the backstory on that one. Seems it could replicate army divisions or something. I’m pretty sure Theena broke it early in the fighting. There was so much going on, I can’t recall everything. Anyway, you get the idea. There were perhaps a dozen artifacts like these, used by Lok’s army.”
“So, all these weapons are stored in the tomb?”
“We think so,” Oldstone said. “They have not been seen since the Battle of Hest. Supposedly his followers sealed everything then took a final Globe of Transport out of the tomb. No one knew its exact location. Or if someone did, they never spoke of it.”
“And yet, we know where the Forlorn Dagger is.”
Both men nodded and shared a glance with one another.
“This is true,” Oldstone said.
Darkstone said, “And we know that the Shadow Council is actively seeking the return of the dagger. It seems to me these facts are related somehow.”
“That’s a good point,” Greystone said, intrigued now.
“I agree,” Oldstone said. “Speaking of keeping an eye on things, how is our thief doing?”
Greystone cast a spell and a scrying window opened over the table showing a bird’s eye view of a forest with a highway cutting through it. Below, approaching a sharp bend in the road, a cart full of people trundled forward led by a single horse.
He said, “Stin and his group are on the road to Coral, cutting through our favorite forest. So far, nothing has delayed them. But the day is young.”
-+-
Veeroy said, “I don’t like it, Lord Fortune.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry, Cap’n.”
The thin pirate grew quieter when they entered the Hidden Woods earlier that morning. But now he seemed to be full of restless energy.
“I don’t like it,” he said again. “The road goes straight for miles and miles and now all a sudden it curves? And the ground rises up yonder. It be too perfect a place for an ambush, Lord . . . Cap’n.”
Stin pulled the reins and Horse came to a halt. The animal turned to look at them with curious eyes.
The nervous pirate stared at the road ahead, licking his lips. Bellasondra sat on the far side of the bench. She caught Stin’s eye and smiled at him.
Stin said, “What do you think, love? Are we riding into a trap?”
Bellasondra said, “Oh, I wouldn’t know. I don’t have near the experience jumping on innocent travelers that you boys do.”
“If I was to set an ambush, I’d do it at this here curve,” Veeroy said, ignoring Bellasondra’s playful tone.
“Why don’t you cast that tracking spell of yours and see if anyone has been walking along the sides of the road?” Stin said.
“A fine idea, Lord For—. A fine idea. Er, if you’d excuse me, Miss. I must needs separate myself from him.”
Bellasondra smiled and jumped to the ground, making way for Veeroy to climb down from the middle. Not that any of them had a whole lot of magic to begin with, but everyone noticed that when sitting close to Stin, what little they had dwindled to nothing.
From the back of the cart, Plinny said, “Have I told ye, Lord Fortune, of th’ time I was waylaid on the way t’ Hightower by a passel o’ priests?”
“Hm. Yes, I must say I’ve heard that one quite a few times.”
“Wull I imagine th’ mistress hain’t heard it.”
Bellasondra said, “Four times, actually. They jumped your party and you all found out they weren’t really priests. Yes, I’m quite familiar with that one.”
“How bout you, young Kirt? We was on the road to Hightower fer the pilgrimage when I was but a wee lad . . .”
Before Kirt could protest that he too had heard the story at least twice, the skinny pirate held his hand up for their attention. In the road ahead, near the bend, they could make out several footsteps appearing in white under the influence of Veeroy’s spell.
“It don’t look good, Lord Fortune,” he said over his shoulder. “Mayhap ye could use your pirate cap’n’s sense o’ traps and scope it out for us?”
Stin said, “Well, I could if this blasted dagger didn’t suck away everything, including the key’s powers. It’s just a chunk of useless metal around my neck at the moment.”
“I’ll hold it for you,” Kirt said.
Stin raised his eyebrows at the suggestion, and considered it for a moment. Finally he shrugged and reached into his cloak to pull out the blade and sheath.
He handed it to Kirt and said, “Just for a moment.”
Kirt nodded, taking it. He hopped off the back of the cart and walked a few paces away. Stin felt the Gloomis Key’s power flooding back as Kirt opened up the distance. He looked up at the sky and spied a distant hawk, high above.
“Wizards are watching,” he said, pointing up. “Greystone, and that powerful woman, the battlemaiden. Also another. They are far away.”
Everyone looked up, trying to catch a glimpse of the hawk.
Turning to the road ahead Stin examined the trees and the rise in elevation.
He said, “I see three men with blades. They’re hidden at the high point of the curve. They can drop down from above as the cart goes by.”
He shifted his gaze again and said, “Their horses are tied further back in the woods. They’ve been camping nearby. Their campfire coals are still warm.”
He looked around one last time. Then, satisfied there was nothing more to see, he made a beckoning motion to Kirt. As Kirt climbed back in the cart, he felt the key’s power fade away.
Bellasondra said, “That is impressive. The captain’s key lets you see all that?”
Stin nodded. “That and more. I just mentioned the pertinent details.”
He did not mention all the animals in the trees and hidden in the grass, the water several paces underground, the tail end of a small cave deep within the hill, or half a dozen other things he noticed with the key.
“Well, what are we going to do now?” Bellasondra said. “We can’t just walk into their trap.”
Stin smiled at her and jerked his head toward the back of the cart.
He said, “Plinny!”
“Aye, Cap’n?”
“Go up there and take care of those three robbers for us.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n!”
The cart squeaked as the giant’s weight shifted off the axle. He rummaged through the supply pile and pulled out a long sword.
“Been a while since I had a scrape! It’ll be just like th’ time—”
“Go on, Plinny,” Stin said, “before they get away.”
“Oh! Right-o!”
He traipsed down the road until he came to the glowing white footsteps near the bend, still illuminated by Veeroy’s spell. Then he cut into the woods, sword pointed in front of him.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Bellasondra said. “Why just him? Shouldn’t we all go and help?”
A blood-curdling scream echoed down from the hillside, followed by the clanging of metal and the sounds of men fighting for their lives.
“Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
The metal clamor seemed reduced by a third. Then they heard another scream and Plinny’s laughter rolled down the hill again.
A body came tumbling out of the trees, falling in a Splat! to the road.
Stin said, “I doubt that will be necessary.”
The fighting see
med to stop with a final Cling! Clang! of steel and one last scream.
Plinny’s voice boomed out, “Got ’em all, Cap’n!”
Stin said, “Go up there and help him retrieve the horses, Veeroy. If we just leave them, the poor things will starve. Use your tracking spell to find their campsite. You and Plinny can split whatever loot you find.”
Veeroy made to go, greed lighting up his eyes. He stopped and looked back, uncertainly.
He said, “Plinny did all th’ work. He’s not going to like th’ idea of splitting th’ loot equally.”
Stin nodded and said, “You called the trap. Your instincts made obtaining the loot possible. Tell him I said you two should split it fair and square.”
Veeroy grinned and he hurried down the road.
Stin and Bellasondra shared a smile. He said, “They’re easy to keep happy.”
14
“I dinna see th’ reason fer bein’ ’ere.”
Dudge stood with his arms crossed and feet spread wide, staring up at the colossal door marking the entrance to Lok’s tomb. Glowstones scattered about the floor cast dim light, along with a smattering of oil lamps. The area around the door seemed brighter, the dull metal reflecting light back into the cavern.
Pudge stood beside him, fingering the gold-threaded braids in his beard. A mix of local guards and those from Ore Stad surrounded the two dwarf princes.
Pudge said, “I jus’ wanna look a’ th’ problem from all angles, brother. Coul’ we go din an’ un’er th’ door?”
“Nay. Iffen th’ spell zaps ye from th’ side, i’ woul’ zap ye goin’ un’er or over fer sure. I’ be wha’ they call a ‘proximity spell.’”
Pudge moved nearer to the enormous door. He stared up at the stark glowing outline of Lok engraved in its metal. He lifted one hand out, palm up, and moved even closer.
“Dinna touch it!”
Pudge nodded, and stopped well short of the door.
“I’ be warm over ’ere! Nay cold liken ye woul’ think.”
“Prolly th’ magic animatin’ it,” Dudge said. “Now gi’ away, afore y’ waken somethin’ tha’ dinna wish t’ be disturbed.”
