“You met John Stryker! When did you see him? What was he doing here?” shouted Nevin.
“Nevin, allow this poor fellow to collect himself before we press him with such questions,” said Anson. “Let us find out why his need for help is so urgent. Perhaps we may be able to help each other, but first we must show him he has nothing to fear from us.”
Anson motioned for Orris to put away his sword, which the soldier did dutifully. This was a sign to the others and the dwarf that no harm was intended. Swiggum calmed down and took another drink. This dwarf did not have the bearded face that was Nevin’s stereotyped image, but his disproportionate limbs left no doubt of his race. This one was neither stoutly built nor as poorly dressed as the previous one they encountered. His skin was ashen but that was not likely due to deprivation from water, though he said he went without for nearly two days. He explained his pallor came from living in the underground village of Glorhum. Residents of this community of dwarves seldom spend more than a few hours at a time upground during daylight, but Swiggum said he was something of an exception. He liked the feeling of adventure offered by wide-open land, plus he did not disdain the company of humans. His interest in observing and occasionally talking with humans apparently distinguished him from the other dwarves of Glorhum, especially members of the “Moot.” For those reasons, he sought help upground, knowing it was likely a suicidal mission.
No dwarf would be expected to last long outside their cavern city, but Swiggum’s mission was desperate. The single well that supplied water to Glorhum for generations was nearly dry. The Moot, a council made up of the ten eldest, would no longer take advice from Smeker, their Lorekeeper. Hope was dwindling because there was no other source of water and they had no means to solve this problem, despite their experience and skill in “underground” matters. As a last resort, Swiggum was asked by the Moot to go upground to seek the human who had helped them once before, or anyone else who could aid them. For the Dwarves of Glorhum, their need for clean water had grown so dire it was now worth seeking the company of humans, or even risking the secrecy of their city’s location to find a benefactor, but few realistically expected to see Swiggum again. His chances for success were slim, but if anyone else went there was no chance at all.
When Swiggum came upon the four sleeping humans this night, he was too reckless with thirst and fear to wake them and beg for a life-sustaining drink of their precious water. He had barely sipped a few drops from the water bag before he was beset by Orris and Nevin, the latter a man who bore resemblance to another tall human he had encountered a year ago.
“I beg you, please do not harm me! No harm I beg!” the dwarf pleaded. “I only seek a few drops of water to keep me alive. I must find help for Glorhum, I must! Oh dear, I fear that we spilled some of your precious water when you set upon me,” said Swiggum.
“Aye, one of the bags was ruptured and most of its contents lost,” confirmed Orris.
In the meantime, Corissa went over to Nevin’s side and whispered, “Is this Stryker the man you spoke of? The one you think is providing counsel to King Meire and gave over the secret of what you called ‘mustard gas’? Is that so, Nevin?”
“Yes, it looks like that is what happened.”
“Then we must learn what we can about him. Meire has ministers who will not hesitate to use whatever powers this Stryker has to offer, no matter how dreadful or deadly.”
Nevin pressed Swiggum to tell all he knew about the chemistry scientist from Hempstead College. About a year earlier, while taking a short sojourn above ground as he liked to do, the dwarf said had come across Stryker wandering alone in this general area. At that encounter, the tables were turned. It was the human who was dying of thirst and hopelessly lost, seeking the city of Taunton. Swiggum did not carry much water because it was already in short supply by that time, but he had enough to sustain both of them as they made it to Glorhum.
“Did Stryker do any magic, Swiggum?” asked Nevin.
“Stryker, I mean Lord Stryker as he bade us call him, cast no spells or showed any such powers, save he claimed to be a man of great knowledge. In payment for my aid, he offered to help us with our water shortage, yes, yes, he did. At first, he told us he could get water by heating upula, but that was nonsense to us all and nothing came of that. Then he took a guide and walked all around the upground, he did. When he returned he gave an order to dig a new well at the most unlikely looking spot near the old one. This order was opposed by Smeker, our Lorekeeper, who held steadfast to his opinion that more water would be found by digging deeper in the old well. Smeker did hold steadfast, he did, and did not like the influence of this human on the Moot.”
Swiggum sat up, seeming to recover overall and his voice grew much less raspy. “The Moot argued over this and decided to dig the new well, which just made old Smeker’s beard go curly. We did find water, though, both wet and muddy it was, and we thought our problem was solved. Lord Stryker left for Taunton with our blessing. But woe to us, it was to be, the new well water was drumly and old to the taste. We had to let it long settle in jars before it was fit to drink. Now, there is little more than dirt soup left in either well. Poor Smeker says we have cursed ourselves by taking in a human and doing his bidding against our lore.”
“Why didn’t you try to dig deeper in the old well like Smeker said?” asked Nevin.
“Oh, we did, Sir, we tried,” answered Swiggum. “But it was hard stone at the bottom and our picks would hardly break it. We dug twice your tall height, but it was messy going and no more sweet water was found, none found.”
Nevin studied the dwarf, thinking his clothing was surprisingly heavy for the warm climate, but passed it off as due to metabolic or other biological differences. The dwarf’s pants and blouse were made of material like canvas. Both clothing and dwarf were quite dirty, but as he recovered from his thirst, a sparkle came to his eyes and a quickness to his movements. He jumped to his feet so quickly it startled Corissa.
“Good humans, is there one among you who would stall your journey long enough to find a way to help the Dwarves of Glorhum…” Swiggum’s face grew serious as he tried to catch the eye of each one of them. “…and our children? We must find a way to save our children. Is there one among you, is there?”
After some hesitation, Nevin was the first to respond. “We are four, not one. Could you accept the help of four?”
“As Sir Nevin says, we will not be split. Take us all or none,” said Orris, turning to Corissa. “My Lady, can you abide this decision? There’d be no point in asking Anson. We know what he would say.”
Waiting nervously for Corissa’s response, the dwarf gave a squeal of appreciation and did a little dance-like turnabout when she nodded her assent.
While Corissa chose not to speak against helping the dwarves, her manner made it clear she did not care for this delay. Nevin tried to ease her discomfort by pointing out that they also needed some source of water, and Glorhum was possibly the only known source. This point did not seem to ease Corissa’s reluctance, but she remained silent. While the rest of the troupe prepared to depart, Nevin quietly asked Corissa if she felt bad because they were off the main road and she was unable to guide them.
“You concern yourself too much with my feelings, Sir Nevin,” she snapped. “We have a mission to carry out and do not have time for diversions, even if they are a good cause.”
“Okay, Okay. We’ll try not to take too long with this side trip. But surely you would not begrudge these dwarves a little help.” Nevin got no answer so he sidled away to take up his pack.
Corissa bit her lip over her curt reply. She had reason to be concerned about reaching Taunton as soon as possible, but she regretted sounding so much like her husband who had wastefully spent his life over obsessive commitment to duty. On top of that, she had not been feeling well the past day or so and was concerned that she might cause them to tarry.
Corissa was last in line as they followed Swiggum. The dwarf set a course to the northeast, which woul
d take them off their bearing. She took a deep breath, resolved not to object as the distant view of Adel’s Mountain bore no closer.
* * *
It grew uncomfortably hot as the day wore on. With only one container of water for the five of them, they did their best to ration shares. They had to stop and rest every thirty minutes, but only allowed themselves a sip. They considered holing up until evening to travel under cooler conditions, but there was no shade to accommodate them. When dusk came, the troupe stopped for the night without the need for discussion. Conversation did not appeal to any of them, nor did eating as each sought his or her privacy. The travail of the day’s travel exhausted each of them as they settled for what respite they could find in sleep.
When dawn came, each felt better for the night’s rest. Anson offered each a tidbit of food, followed by a delicate sip of water.
“Only a quarter bag is left,” said Orris. “We must find water soon.”
“Swiggum, is there any source of water at all around here? Plants? Cactus, maybe? Anything?” asked Nevin.
“Regretfully not, Good Sir.”
“How much farther is it to Glorhum?”
“Regrettably farther than I wish, do I. At the pace we travel, another day.”
The news of one more day’s travel under these conditions was disheartening, but they rose again to meet the challenge. The first hour went reasonably well, but each began to show the effects of dehydration. Their bodies grew sore and their heads stooped. Stops were needed every fifteen minutes, but they limited their small sips of water to the hour. By noon, their water was gone and they had made barely more than a mile or two. The distance between them in their line grew greater as the weaker ones straggled.
Swiggum kept the lead and eventually stopped at the base of a ridge of hills. The sun was blinding and even hotter than the day before, turning into uncommon heat for the spring of the year. The ground was very rocky and the color predominantly ochre, which intensified the blinding effect of the sunlight and made it difficult to focus their eyes. Along with their joints, their eyes started to hurt. Swiggum urged them all to stop until the last in line caught up.
“We cannot try to go up this path. The climb is steep and we do not have the strength. I know of a cave nearby where we can at least suffer less heat. Shall we go there, shall we?”
No one had strength to respond, but Nevin at last nodded for Swiggum to lead the way. The dwarf stepped off to their right, followed by Anson and Orris. Nevin assisted Corissa, who had become dizzy with difficulty steadying herself, and they followed for several minutes until they all met again at the opening of a cave. The entrance was large enough for those five foot in height or shorter, but Nevin had difficulty squeezing through.
Once inside the cave, the temperature was immediately several degrees cooler. As they walked farther back into the recess, the path sloped down and it actually became quite cool. The relief from the sweltering heat was welcomed. Nevin feared that the cave would become too dark to move about, but it retained a strange, twilight level of illumination.
Swiggum stopped in an area where the floor widened to form a room. Two small tunnels went off in different directions.
“Let us stop here, friends, and at least defeat the sun, defeat it.” said Swiggum.
All the travelers sank to the floor in exhaustion. Their bodies were racked with thirst, so much so it prevented them from sleeping. Nevin knew that rather than sleep, they were on the verge of a loss of consciousness. He was very concerned about Corissa, whose health was obviously failing, although each of them was in poor condition.
Nevin finally spoke, but only the dwarf was alert enough to seem interested. “We’re fairly deep underground. Are you sure there’s no pool or spring off in one of the tunnels?”
“Sir Nevin, if I may be that familiar, there is no pool of water about.” The dwarf picked up a rock and continued, “Your friend, Lord Stryker, seemed to think there was water in these rocks of upala. If you know how to get water from rocks, then we can be saved.” Swiggum threw the rock off into a tunnel, resulting in a series of clacking ricochets that echoed ominously.
“First of all, Stryker is not my friend,” Nevin answered. “But I meant to ask about this ‘upula’ you mentioned.” Picking up a fist-sized rock, he said, “If this rock is what you refer to, we call it opal.” Nevin thought a minute and brightened. “Maybe water from rocks is not as impossible as you might think.”
“Say what, Sir?” the Dwarf asked.
“You can get water from some rocks, I mean. Stryker is a brilliant scientist and he knows a lot about the crystalline structure of minerals. It is common knowledge that some rocks have water trapped in their molecular…er…inside them. Opal, for example, usually has water trapped among its crystals.”
“And this opal is another name of upala, Large Sir? Do you mean that there is water in this rock?” questioned Swiggum, as he picked up another large lump from the cavern floor.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“And you can get water from this rock?” The dwarf was upright with interest.
“Well, yes, but there would not be much in a small specimen like that. Give me a large enough piece of opal and it would contain enough water to make a difference.”
Despite his fatigue, Swiggum sprang over to the other side of the chamber and examined a large stone formation cropping out from the wall. The formation rose up from the floor about two feet and formed a large table-like shelf. It was slightly sunken toward the center.
“This is a large piece of upala, or opal, if you prefer. Is it large enough, Sir?”
Nevin turned serious and went over to check out the rock formation. He examined it from all sides and sat down on it, stroking his chin. After several minutes of deep thought, he turned his head askance, snapped his fingers and said, “Why not? It makes sense, geologically speaking.”
Swiggum was puzzled. The idea of water existing in a rock made no sense whatever. By this time, Anson had come over to see what was going on. He and Nevin talked in private for some time. Anson shook his head several times in disbelief, but finally relented at Nevin’s urging. Nevin called them all together around the opaline shelf.
“Anson and I are going to try something that may seem crazy to you. Actually, it seems a little crazy to us, too, but we are kind of short on options right now.”
“What is it, Nevin? Have you found water? Orris asked, his eyes widening as he leaned forward.
“Well, yes. In a way. This large rock formation here is a huge piece of opal. Opal is a soft rock that has water built into its crystalline structure. It’s a molecular thing. I know that sounds hard to believe, but that could have been what Stryker saw when he told the dwarves he could get water from a shallow digging. Under certain conditions, it is possible. Or it should be, I think.
Orris lowered his head. Words were not needed to express his disappointment.
“I know, I know. It sounds crazy, but just listen,” Nevin insisted. “What we have to do is apply enough heat to this opaline formation to stir up the water molecules so they will seek to escape as steam. It is cold enough in here that the steam will condense on the ceiling and drops of water should drip down. If that happens, and it should, we can use a piece of cloth to soak up the water and suck on it. You’ll have to act quickly because I cannot calculate how much water we might actually get.”
“Nevin,” said Anson. “Won’t it get too hot to remain in here?
“Not if we can keep the heat contained. Most of the heat could be trapped and absorbed in the rock and the rest will dissipate slowly when the steam condenses on the ceiling. We will have to be careful if there is a small vent that concentrates steam.”
“How do you propose to heat this rock, Nevin?” asked Corissa, her interest also rising at Nevin’s insistence on the feasibility of this plan.
“That’s the hard part. Anson and I are going to try a heat spell.”
Swiggum jumped up. “O
h! Mages you are! I should have known, I should! Oh, it is mages, mages, mages, and I found them to help the dwarves of Glorhum!” he exclaimed as he pranced a few steps.
“Not ordinary mages, my friend,” said Orris, now smiling. “There is high magery afoot here, I think. If anyone can get water from a rock, it is these two.”
Nevin and Anson conferred for some time longer while the others waited impatiently, especially the dwarf. Anson was resistant to Nevin’s idea about altering a heat spell to keep it contained in very precise coordinates within the rock formation. Anson’s training required him to follow spells without variation and the idea of altering or creating a new spell was still difficult for him to accept. He was finally persuaded to teach Nevin the words to the heat spell and alter them as requested.
When they were ready to begin, Anson concentrated and held his hand to his forehead. With a sharp nod, he began canting the words and phrases. He repeated the sequence a second and third time, but nothing seemed to happen, except that he grew weak from the effort and had to stop to regain his strength.
Before trying again, Anson said, “You must do this with me, Nevin. I need the force of your mind. More of that energy you speak of. Together we might succeed, separately we will not. You have memorized the words?”
Nevin nodded.
Anson refocused his concentration and repeated the spellwords, this time with Nevin joining in. They completed a second iteration when they both felt a slight shudder at their feet. Not letting this interrupt them, they canted a third repetition and a fourth. This time the shudder was strong enough for the others to notice. After a fifth repetition the rock formation clearly vibrated. Wisps of steam began to rise over the depression of the rock formation. Soon, more vapor appeared. As Anson and Nevin went through two morfe iterations in perfect syncopation, steam started to spew from the rock and tumble upward in clouds where it began to condense on the cool cave ceiling. Hundreds then thousands of droplets of water soon fell from the ceiling and started to collect on the stone.
The Chronicles of Nevin Reasoner: The Complete Duology Page 29
