by Greg Curtis
Edouard gulped nervously and tried not to think of that as he knew the same fate could still be awaiting them. Or him at least. Kyriel seemed to have some standing with the power because of her link to Tyrel. He wasn't so fortunate. But instead he turned his thoughts to what the dragon had said. Rock gnomes? He'd never heard of them. But he had heard that there were creatures down beneath their feet. Creatures of the depths.
Miners occasionally spoke of the dwellers of the deep, or whispered the legends among themselves. The very deepest mines were said to go down half a league or more. And it was there in those great depths that the legends had begun. That they were said to have found people. Strange people. People with white skin so pale that it could not face the sun without burning. People with the fangs of wolves in their mouths and the talons of eagles instead of fingers. With faces wrinkled up like weathered hide. Ugly people. But also strong people. Physically very powerful. And savage with it.
There were tales of pitched battles underground. Of miners abducted and stolen away while they worked. Tales too of deadly creatures unleashed like wolves on the miners. And sometimes it was said entire mine shafts had to be abandoned and sealed shut because of them.
He remembered as a child being told of a story that Lord Smallbridge had reported to the court. Of his gold mines in the Archaise Mountains to the north being overrun by strange underground creatures. He had told the court of having lost hundreds of miners in a day as the creatures had seemingly come out of nowhere.
It was because of the deep dwellers that mines were blessed. That priests of the Seven were asked to attend the opening of each new tunnel and give their deity's words. It was also because of them that miners picks had spikes. They could be used as weapons as well as tools. Miners though were a credulous lot believing in every wild tale they were told. Or so he'd thought. But what if they were right? What if there were people in the depths? People with knowledge and magic they didn't have on the surface? People who had found passageways to the surface?
And if there were such people, and one of them had made his way to the surface and then made himself an adviser to a would be king, to what purpose? What did he want? And perhaps more importantly, was he alone? Because if there was a race of them and Vesar was but one, then surely another was in the north where the mammoths had been portalled from, and perhaps a third in the west where the sprigs came from. Three rock gnomes.
Or were there more? The thought occurred to him as he remembered the others telling him of the soldiers in their veils. And he remembered those who had come to bring him to the court. At the time he had thought the manner of their dress strange, but worried less about it than he had about why he was being summoned. But suddenly he realised that helmets and heavy veils were almost as protective of the sun as hoods and priestly veils. And they both hid faces. Just as gauntlets like leather gloves might hide talons. Could these new royal guards also be rock gnomes?
Were there just three rock gnome wizards? Or was it an invasion?
Naturally he couldn't ask any of those questions. He didn't have the same status as the handmaiden with Ascorlexia. But Kyriel did a good job of asking them. Unfortunately Ascorlexia wasn't so good at answering them. For him it was the rock gnome's violation of his lair that mattered. The fact that they'd tried to steal from him. Again and again he returned to that act no matter how many times he was asked about the other things.
But then Kyriel asked another question and everything changed.
“A large round structure?” The dragon seemed upset by it for some reason. By Kyriel's description of what they'd seen being built in the city.
“Yes.”
“And you!” The dragon whipped his head around to stare straight at Edouard, making him jump. “Did you see this too?”
“Yes Great One.” Edouard answered him not sure he should. Kyriel had been very clear with him. He wasn't to speak with Ascorlexia. Just stand there behind her and be respectful. But she surely hadn't expected the dragon to speak directly to him. Neither had he. He'd hoped not anyway.
“I smell a spark of magic on you boy. Who are you?”
It wasn't a question so much as a demand and with the dragon's massive head so close to him Edouard gave into it immediately.
“Lord Edouard Severin Great One. I am fortunate enough to have a spark of fire magic.” Had he answered the dragon properly? Had he said too much? Edouard didn't know. But he did know that the dragon's breath was like a wind beating on his skin, and that his teeth were larger than he was.
“And you have met with Tyrel. I smell her on you as well like my sister's servant beside you. But you have also met one of these accursed rock gnomes.”
“Yes Great One. I have spoken with the Honoured Mother. And in the throne room of Therion I spoke with the rock gnome called Vesar. He accused me of crimes against the false king.”
“There is more! More of that meeting!” The dragon bellowed at him and the blast of his breath knocked Edouard back a step. “Do not think to play at words with me boy!”
“Sorry Great One.” Edouard was very scared by then. His heart was racing, the sweat was gathering on his forehead and running down his back.
“There are only two more things I can think of that might be of interest. The first is that the usurper king is my brother Simon.” The dragon snorted unimpressed. And after all Edouard realised, what did he care about a mere human king no matter who he was?
“The other?”
“That while Vesar was accusing me of the crimes I could not reach for my magic. I could summon it as always, but I could neither shape it nor release it. The same was true of the other sparks in that room.” And that still puzzled him. More than that it frightened him. He wasn't used to being without his magic. It made him feel vulnerable.
“And you thought to keep this from me!” The dragon snorted once more and this time Edouard was knocked back a good three paces.
“I did not think to keep anything from you Great One. I did not know it was important.” And though he gathered it was he still had no idea why.
“No you didn't think!” The dragon snorted some more, looking no less annoyed. “You didn't think to tell me that most important of all facts. That this pesky rock gnome has brought forth a piece of the death stone.”
“I don't know what that is Great One.”
“That, foolish boy, is what stole your magic. It is what steals all magic. And it is what the vile little rock rat is going to place at the heart of his typhoon gate.”
Death stone? Was that the same thing as a stone of silence? Edouard didn't know. But it sounded much worse. And what was a typhoon gate? He'd never heard of such a thing.
“What is a typhoon gate?”
Edouard was unbelievably grateful when Kyriel asked the question, as it drew Ascorlexia's attention away from him and back to her. Especially when he knew the same question had been on the tip of his tongue and he might foolishly have actually asked it. Curiosity was ever a failing of his.
“A vortex, servant of Tyrel. A syphon that sucks all cast magic into it and which then can be used to power the foul devices of the rock gnomes.”
The dragon sounded angry, even more angry than before, and Edouard was unbelievably happy that he wasn't talking to him.
“I understand that this unlearned simpleton knows nothing of such a device. But how is it that a servant of Tyrel also does not?”
“I regret that I do not have your great knowledge Ascorlexia.”
She was playing to the dragon's weakness Edouard realised. His pride. And it did seem to work as the dragon humphed and snorted for a bit, but at least seemed to calm down. Eventually he even relented in his assessment of them.
“It is true I suppose. Not all choose to spend their days learning the wonders of the world.”
Of course they both knew the dragon was just using another less aggressive means to call them ignorant when he said it. But Edouard didn't care and he doubted Kyriel did either.
“What matters
I suppose is the danger. And this is dangerous.”
“The death stone steals magic, and magic is – boy?”
Ascorlexia's head whipped around again on that great long neck of his and Edouard was left standing there staring into a mouth larger than him. Much larger. Luckily he knew the answer. All those with magic did.
“Life Great One.”
“Finally! The simpleton speaks knowledge!” His head swung back to Kyriel and Edouard breathed once more.
“Life. The death stone steals magic. The gate increases its power. The stone on its own merely stole from this one the magic he tried to cast. With the gate working it will steal far more. It will take the magic that dwells within the caster, whether it is cast or not. It will steal all the magic that exists within the region, killing all those that either have magic or are made of magic. And it will power the infernal devices that the rock gnomes will build so that they may destroy more.”
“Thousands of years ago these vermin built many such devices and the deaths were without number. They drove the magical from the world with them. We are fortunate that only one of these rock vermin lives.”
“Three.” Edouard automatically corrected the dragon and immediately wanted to bite out his own tongue. He wanted it more when the dragon's huge head was instantly mere inches from him and he could feel his breath like a wind on his skin. Ascorlexia didn't even have to ask the question as he knew what he demanded to hear.
“I'm sorry Great One, but there are surely at least three of them. The portal that sent the mammoths through was opened somewhere in the troll wastes. And the sprigs were surely sent from thousands of leagues to the west.” Edouard stammered out his explanation as quickly as he could, desperate for those teeth and that foul breath to go away again. But the dragon wasn't finished with him.
“How do you know this simpleton?”
“I examined the site where the mammoths arrived, plotted the lines of strength and found the direction of the primary portal as twenty two degrees north or two hundred and two degrees south. The mammoths live in the frozen northern lands, and that end of the line runs straight through the heart of the troll wastes.”
“The sprigs live two thousand leagues to the west of us, and though we could not find the place where they arrived it seems unlikely that they walked all the way to Therion Great One.”
“Hmmn!”
The dragon made a throaty noise that in a man might have been a sign that he was thinking. But when Ascorlexia made the throaty noise it was more like thunder. Thunder in his throat and in the rock beneath Edouard's feet. But at least he looked away, staring into the distance somewhere beyond them both and Edouard found himself once more able to breathe the foul air. His heart was even beating again. Of course what the dragon was thinking about could be anything. The possibility that there were three Cabal wizards in the world working their ill again after all this time. That he would have to defend his great library from their raids again. Or how tasty the annoying human would be and whether to flame roast him first.
It was hard standing there, waiting for him to come to a decision. Wondering if the dragon was going to eat him out of annoyance. But that was what he had to do, and so somehow Edouard stood there unmoving, patiently awaiting the dragon's words. Kyriel looked more relaxed as she stood there, but that could just be her training and discipline. He couldn't really imagine that anyone could be comfortable so near to the great black dragon.
It was a long wait but Ascorlexia finally ended it.
“Leave me!” After so long standing there waiting, the command made Edouard jump. But he didn't care about that as he knew he'd been released. Immediately he bowed, turned on his heels and started heading for the way out. All he cared about was leaving. Kyriel he suspected was the same as she walked beside him, though she hid it better.
“I will think on this and send word to your mistress, servant.” The dragon called it after them as they left.
They stopped, turned around and bowed again when they heard him, but by the time they did he wasn't interested in saying anything more. Ascorlexia had once again begun curling up into a small hill and was looking to be making himself comfortable for a nap. Thinking or sleeping? Perhaps the two were the same to him. But whichever it was it still left them with nothing to do but continue on their way out and they did just that.
“It would be rude to run?” Edouard asked when they were a few hundred paces away, not completely sure why. But after so much fear the relief was robbing him of his senses.
“Rude yes. Stupid, more so.”
She was probably right he realised. It would be the same mistake mice made when they spotted a cat. They should freeze until the cat passed them by. But instead they ran drawing the cat's attention. He didn't want to draw the dragon's attention.
They continued on, walking steadily until finally the end of the tunnel was in sight, and it was only then that Edouard finally managed to calm his thumping heart a little. The exit was in sight, and he almost dared to hope they were going to get away.
When they finally emerged from the cavern into the open air and he could see his sky ship beyond it, it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Even with its balloon ever so slightly deflated since the burners had been turned off, it was magnificent in the late afternoon sunlight.
“Praise be to the Seven.”
He'd never been much of a follower of the various faiths. But even he felt the need to give thanks just then. They had after all just emerged alive and in one piece from the mouth of the underworld. His words though drew an unexpected response from his companion. A groan.
“And while you're thanking them do you think you could manage a small prayer for a safe journey home?”
Edouard stared at her, surprised. But then he saw the look on her face and understood. He was afraid of dragons. Kyriel it seemed was afraid of flying.
It was a strange world.
Chapter Thirty Five
The courtyard was crowded by the time Simon made it out there, but those who filled it were not those that he wanted to see. They were more of the royal guard. But he knew as their numbers constantly swelled no matter how many he kept sending to man Vesar's blockades, that they weren't loyal to him. They just pretended to be. They did as he commanded. But they wore veils and every so often he had the feeling that they were looking to Vesar for approval before doing what he commanded.
This was looking like a coup within a coup.
Of course Vesar would deny it. He had done so each time Simon had mentioned the question of loyalty. And his words were always the ones a king wanted to hear. But they were lies. Simon was sure of that. The planned armies of conquest were not appearing. The city wasn't being rebuilt to weather an attack. It wasn't being rebuilt at all. And all the workforce were being used to build that great temple of his. Simon kept directing that more be sent to rebuild the city, but somehow they kept being sent back to work on the temple.
Of course there were excuses. There were always excuses. And then there were explanations. Confused orders. The stone for the walls was on its way. The people sent to do his bidding were sick. They needed to build whatever damned temple he was building to defend the king. But Simon knew the truth.
Little by little he was being turned into a figurehead. A king with no real power save the legitimacy to let Vesar do whatever he wanted. However he lied about it, Vesar was taking charge. Pushing him aside. And this looked like being another step on that journey. Maybe the final step. After all there was no army in front of him as he had been promised.
It was time to end their partnership.
Simon had decided that days ago. The moment he'd finally interrogated the thieves that had been caught and first set him on this path to ruin.
He hadn't had them executed when he first became king as he'd once intended. He'd forgotten about them in the crush of chores and decisions that had suddenly had to be made. But that oversight had turned out to be a blessing. Because it was they
who could tell him that the reason they had been caught was because the lord had been given warning of their impending crime. According to the testimony given by their intended victim at their trial, a warning given by a man dressed from head to foot in black. And the moment they had told him that Simon had seen the trap that had been laid out for him.
It had been Vesar right from the start! His loyal ally had tricked him into taking this course of action long before he had shown up at his door. He had forced his hand.
Once he'd heard that he'd realised just how completely the black robed priest had played him like a piece on a board game, and the anger had flowed through Simon like water. Hot and powerful it had left Simon almost shaking with fury. But he had contained it, knowing that he could not tip his hand. That Vesar could know nothing of what he'd learned. Not until it was time to kill him. And there was no longer a choice in that. The advisor had to die, and soon. Before he tried to kill him.
