She helped him undress all the way to his pants, at which point he said, “Turn around.”
Kurine didn’t complain. Swiftly, once he was naked, he crawled back into the covers. She picked up the clothes and hurried out. He napped until a plump goronku man bounded in with a tray of food.
“Don’t know if it’s what you’re used to, lad, but it’s what passes for food around here. Cooked it up special for you. A real fancy meal. Enjoy!” He kissed his fingers and left.
“Thank you!” he called out as the man disappeared.
One bowl had three different kinds of smoked meat. The second bowl had smoked fish on top of a thin layer of purplish leafy vegetables. And the third held steaming broth with bits of … something. He didn’t care. He was starving. He drank down the broth, which wasn’t soothing. His lips and the back of his throat burned by the time he finished. The fish tasted great, as did one of the meats. The other two were chewy and tangy, and heavily spiced as well. He drank all the water available, and his mouth still burned.
Narbenu entered carrying a bowl of water with some herbs mixed in. “How’s it going, lad?”
Turesobei took the bowl and stared into it with dread. Sweat dripped down his forehead and from his lips.
“You look like you need a drink.”
“It’s not spicy, is it? I can’t take any more spice.”
Narbenu laughed. “No, it’s just cold water and a few soothing herbs. Cook likes his spice, more than most of us, and it occurred to me you might not eat spice in your world.”
“We have loads of spices in my world. We use them a lot. But they’re not this hot.”
“Lots of spices? Huh. We only have the one. You’ll have to tell Cook about them.”
Turesobei drank the water. It helped, but the burn didn’t go away completely.
Kurine stepped into the room with the bundle of clothes. “Alterations are done.” She spotted Narbenu and made an oh-no face.
“You’ve already been in here?” Narbenu asked suspiciously. “You were supposed to come get me. You weren’t in here alone, were you? You know that’s forbidden, Kurine.”
Turesobei quickly replied, “She came in and —”
“I was here!” Lu Bei said, popping into fetch form. “I made sure nothing improper happened. Very sure.”
“It’s true,” Kurine said.
Narbenu frowned. “Well … no offense to the little demon —” Lu Bei slapped himself in the forehead. “— but he takes orders from young Turesobei. I don’t think it’s quite all right. Next time, make sure another adult goronku is with you, okay?”
She sighed. “Of course, Narbenu.” Kurine set out the clothes. “Everything should fit perfectly now.”
“I’m going to need some help getting dressed,” Turesobei said. Seeing that Narbenu was about to ask Kurine if she had helped, he added, “Lu Bei helped me before, but it was clumsy. And poor Kurine had to stand over in the corner with her back turned listening to us fumble about for half an hour.”
“I’ll help you,” Narbenu said.
“I’ve got to get something anyway,” Kurine said.
Narbenu and Lu Bei helped him get all the clothes on. This time he added his breastplate, and immediately thought he might collapse under all the weight. Finishing that, he put on his sword belt and instinctively reached toward where the scabbard would hang. But it wasn’t there. Sumada was gone. He cursed.
“What’s the matter, lad?”
“My father’s white-steel sword … I lost it while I was fighting the yomon.” Awasa had it. Out on the plain where … he couldn’t let himself think about it. Survive and save the ones you can — mourn later — that’s what he had to do. Something he’d sadly already done before, something that was becoming far too common.
“White-steel? I don’t know what that is.”
Turesobei thought about the weapons he’d seen Narbenu and the other goronku carrying the evening before: all iron. “You don’t have steel, do you?”
“We do, but it is rare, and a single steel sword would cost a fortune. Most weapons here are iron, or blessed onyx which is harder than iron but also rare.”
“White-steel is … well, it looks like regular steel except it’s almost as white as paper. It can cut through magic and demons. It’s made from white ore that has fallen from Avida.”
“That sounds most useful! We don’t have any way to kill demon-beasts. All we can do is wound them temporarily and flee.”
“White-steel is rare in my world. My father’s sword was nearly pure — incredibly rare and valuable.”
He touched the spot on his belt where his spell pouch would hang. No spell strips with castings prepared in advance — all his castings would be slow or quick-cast, which was a draining technique except for the simplest of spells. He moved his hand a little farther along the belt and tapped a spot where he kept an emergency spell strip. Whew. Still there. He was going to need that one, though using it might kill him.
“I’ll get you a weapon,” Narbenu said, “though it won’t be as fine as what you’re used to.”
Kurine returned with a knitted sweater, scarf, and hat — all of them tiny. “For the little demon.”
“Argh! I’m a book fetch!”
“You really do look like a little demon.”
“But I’m not. Watch this. Master, would you like a bowl?”
“Why not?” Turesobei replied.
Lu Bei bounded over to a bowl, grabbed it, and took it to Turesobei. “See what I did just there? I fetched it. Now watch this.” Lu Bei turned into a book, and then back into his fetch form. “Book then fetch. I’m a book fetch. See?”
“So you’re a book fetch demon?”
Lu Bei bounced up and down huffing and grumbling, and Turesobei thought he might explode. Kurine laughed and poked him in the belly. “Don’t get your wings tangled. I’m only messing with you. Here, take your clothes.”
Turesobei laughed appreciatively. Not many people could best Lu Bei.
“I don’t need clothes,” Lu Bei pronounced. “I don’t get cold.”
“Everyone gets cold here,” Kurine replied, “sooner or later. Don’t you want to be cozy?”
Lu Bei held a staring contest with her … and finally relented. He bowed and said, “Thank you, miss. I shall wear them outside when I’m in this form. Master can hold onto them for me.”
“You’ve got to try them on first,” she said.
Lu Bei did. Turesobei was certain if Shoma were here she would cackle with delight at how cute Lu Bei was. Turesobei bit his lip and commented as sedately as possible. “They seem to fit you well.”
Lu Bei handed them to Turesobei, and turned back into a book. Kurine winked at Turesobei, and he smiled back.
“Take a few minutes more to rest,” Narbenu said. “I know you’re eager, but I’ve got a few more things to take care of before we can set off.”
Turesobei was amazed at how nothing fazed the goronku. Him crash landing after transforming back from being a dragon, him being a wizard and looking different and hailing from another world, Lu Bei’s nature. It also worried him. If things like that didn’t alarm them, then that could only mean they faced plenty of horrors and a few wonders regularly.
“I’m never going to make it.”
Lu Bei patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll make it, master. We’ll get there and save them.”
“Putting on clothes exhausted me. Walking to … however far away it is …”
“Narbenu said something about mounts, master.”
“Any mount here I’d have to learn how to ride.” He tapped the spell strip tucked away in his belt. He had no choice. “Lu Bei, return to book form. Do not record again until I tell you to do so.”
“Master, what are you —”
“Just do it, okay? Don’t make this difficult.”
“Master, don’t do anything —”
“That’s an order … I’m sorry.”
Lu Bei stomped his feet, and then d
isappeared. Turesobei pulled out the only spell strip left to him — a spell of last resort, but made for just this sort of situation. A spell that he’d kept hidden from Lu Bei. A spell that allowed him to do a special trick, a very dangerous and costly one. A moment of regret flickered across his face. He chanted and released the spell. The magic activated. Pain shot through this body, but once that ended, he felt energized, as if he’d had several days of rest. He tucked the still-active spell strip back into his belt.
“You can come out now, Lu Bei.”
Lu Bei reappeared and sniffed around the room. “I smell magic. Powerful magic, and it’s still active.”
“I’m not going to talk about it.”
“What did you do, master?” His black eyes narrowed. “You look refreshed.”
“It was a small spell I’d like to keep secret. It will wear off. I have my reasons for keeping it from you. Let it go.”
“As you wish, master.”
Narbenu drew back the curtain. He was carrying a cloth-wrapped bundle in his arms. “Ready to go, lad?”
Chapter Four
“As ready as I’m going to be,” Turesobei replied.
“Our party will be large enough that you can nap along the way without fear of danger … once you get the hang of riding.”
“I’m a skilled rider.”
“I doubt your mounts are the same as our sonoke.” Narbenu unwrapped the bundle, revealing a knife and a hand axe not all that much larger than the axe Turesobei had carried in his now lost pack. The blades of both were iron. “I thought you might like the axe. We don’t have many swords here, and our hafted axes look a bit heavy for you. We have maces if you’d prefer.”
“This will do.” He sheathed the knife, and took a few awkward swings with the axe. “I’ll just have to get used to it. Most of my training was with a sword, though I’m decent enough with a spear. Don’t guess you have any of those?”
“There’s a spear sheathed on your mount’s saddle.”
“A spear or a lance?”
“Is there a difference?”
“On my world there is.”
“It’s not as long as you are tall.”
“A spear, then. Perfect.”
Waddling in his giant suit of furs, Turesobei followed Narbenu into a wide hallway. More of the crystal lights were embedded in the ceiling. Turesobei pointed to one. “What are those?”
“Star stones.”
“We don’t have anything like them in my world.”
“We trade the Westerners for them. They dig them out of the mountains and polish them.”
They passed many doorways. Some had the curtains drawn back, revealing small apartments the size of the room Turesobei had stayed in, while others had large living rooms that led to multiple bedrooms. The hallway branched off in several places.
“How many people live here?” Turesobei asked.
“Twelve hundred. We’re a large community. We have a big oasis.”
“Oasis?”
“You’ll see. This is a hard land to survive in. Those who have access to game and plants can … well, I wouldn’t call it thrive, exactly.”
They entered a large common area about sixty paces across. Rugs and cushions were arranged into seating sections on one side. Tables were set up for eating on the other side. The doorway to the right led into the clanging, smoky kitchens. Warmth flowed out from the kitchens and from a vent in the center of the chamber. Geothermal heat, he guessed. There must be volcanic activity deep below. Some people in Okoro used heating like that. Southern Batsakun was famous for its hot springs. Now that he thought about it, there had been a small vent in his room. But if that was all the warmth it put out, no wonder these people needed fur.
The entrance across from him led to another long hallway. Perhaps that was where the goronku worked, since two merchant stalls were set up to each side of that door: one sold odds and ends and weapons, while the other sold clothing and jewelry. Kurine was at the clothing stall. She spotted him and waved. He waved back. She blew him a kiss. He hesitated, then waved again.
Narbenu raised an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t know why she’s taken such an interest in me.”
“You’re different, unusual. She craves a challenge, that one. I’d be careful if I were you. Our customs may not be to your advantage.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you don’t know them. I suspect we’re very different from your people.”
An ornately carved door stood to Turesobei’s left. Guards with hafted axes flanked the door. He remembered now coming through this door last night, though he didn’t remember the common room. Probably because they had drugged him right after he’d arrived. Narbenu pushed open the door, revealing a staircase about forty steps long that led to a wide landing and a stone door at the top. Another guard stood at the top of the steps. He nodded to Narbenu, and then helped him push the door open. The entrance to the town was built into the side of a low hill. Two more guards stood to each side of the door outside.
The blast of cold air punched Turesobei in the face. He’d been so exhausted and battered yesterday that he’d barely registered the cold. Shivering, he drew the crimson scarf Kurine had made him up over his face. He had to get home.
On top of the hill was a cleverly disguised watchtower: a pale, stone building with ice piled around it so that it would match the surrounding terrain. Turesobei had noticed it upon arriving last night, though he’d missed a lot of other things. It was strange how in delirium, one could pick out something hidden and miss the obvious.
The goronku had four other buildings outside. Turesobei was certain one was a stable. What purposes the other three served, he had no idea, though a sound almost like that of dogs barking came from one building, along with an unpleasant odor.
To the right was a steaming lake the size of the crescent-shaped lake that lay between the High Wizard’s Tower and the Palace in Ekaran. There was no ice within fifty paces of the lake, and the ground sloped down toward the lakeshore. Judging from the difference in height between where he stood on the ice and the top of the lake, he guessed the ice was nearly as deep as he was tall. Out of the thawed soil around the lake grew a thick stand of spindly trees and thorny shrubs alongside dense patches of herbs and vines with purple leaves. Those he recognized, having eaten some this morning. A dozen goronku were out tending the plants.
A rock wall, taller than a goronku, surrounded the area, protecting their buildings and the lake. In the direct center stood a tall column with hideous faces carved into it: faces of demonic birds, bears, and creatures he couldn’t identify. Probably to ward off demons. If he were a demon, it would’ve driven him off.
Narbenu stomped ahead, and Turesobei followed, the treads of his new overboots crunching into the ice. They rounded the large building — Turesobei stopped — his jaw dropped.
A war party of nineteen armed goronku awaited them — on their ice drake mounts. The beasts, the sonoke, were slender with smoky fur that turned white on the ends, except on their opalescent, scaled bellies. Their armless, legless bodies were thick at the front and tapered to a thin tail. All told, they were the length of five men. Whiskers like those of a catfish trailed from their snouts. Ram horns curled from their foreheads. One of the beasts turned toward him and locked its slitted, reptilian eyes on him. It blinked three times, snorted, and looked away.
“Everyone ready?” Narbenu asked.
The goronku nodded silently. They were staring at Turesobei, not menacingly, but with keen interest and a bit of suspicion.
“I’m Chonda Turesobei,” he announced. “Thank you for helping me. I will be indebted to you.”
Many heads bobbed in acknowledgement, but no one said anything. He was starting to think that other than Shaman Eira and Kurine, the goronku were a mostly silent people. Narbenu said little that wasn’t necessary.
Narbenu led him forward to meet the goronku at the head of all the others. “I’m the leader of our
scouts, so normally I would command such an expedition. However, this is a special situation requiring many warriors, and it could involve some delicate negotiations with some of our enemies. Therefore, our party is led by Sudorga, our war chief.”
War Chief Sudorga wore a coat of banded mail many times nicked, just like his face, which bore a number of battle scars. His fur was steel gray, and a white beard hung halfway down his chest. He half-bowed and said in a surprisingly airy voice, “We will do our best to find your friends and save them if we can, Chonda Turesobei. We owe that to you.”
“You really don’t owe me anything. I appreciate the help you’re giving me, but I am imposing on your people.”
“You are stranded in need, and we took you in. What kind of people would we be if we didn’t do our best to help you? We would shame our ancestors and insult the gods otherwise.”
Four mounts without riders were positioned behind Sudorga’s mount. Narbenu led Turesobei to the front of one. “This is your mount, KZ 1304. Hold your hand out so that he can sniff it.”
“That’s a strange name.”
“It designates which sonoke sired him, his birth order, and which year.”
“You don’t name your mounts?”
“Some do. Most do not. This one is young and has finished his training. He is yours. Our gift to you no matter what happens this day. If you wish to name him, you may.”
Turesobei held his hand out. “Iyei,” he told the sonoke without a moment’s thought. “Iyei is what I shall name you, if you will have me.”
The mount Turesobei had ridden into Wakaro in search of the Storm Dragon’s Heart and that had ultimately plunged into the river from high up on a rope bridge had been named Iyei.
The sonoke sniffed Turesobei’s hand, snorted, shut his eyes, and bowed his head. Turesobei patted him between the horns. The fur was thick and soft, not at all unlike the fur Turesobei was wearing. In fact, it seemed identical. Surely not … that would be like wearing denekon scales back home.
“Well done,” said Narbenu. “Now, climb in the saddle and I will teach you the rest. You said you had riding beasts at home?”
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 65
