Secrets of the Elders (Chronicles of Acadia: Book I)

by D. M. Almond

CHAPTER 19

  Corbin needed to figure out a way into the amazing town below. He had spent some time during the late hours studying the layout of the place in wonder. Everything outside of New Fal was supposed to be a wild and untamed expanse that could not support civilization. Yet here was a thriving trade port despite those claims, and the city was anything but wild, clearly shipping goods in both directions on the green foamy river below. It was a complete contradiction to what he knew about the world.

  After the initial shock from that revelation wore off, Corbin scouted the area to find some way to slip inside undetected. The layout of the town was impressive. The only way in was through a tunnel carved under the hill below, but that was guarded by five heavily armored gnomes. The entrance was far too exposed for him to show up at the gates. They would spot him in a heartbeat. Logan would have too much warning if that happened, and Corbin was uncertain whether the gnomes would be welcoming toward him anyhow, considering his brother was traveling with one of their people.

  Circling the outskirts of the settlement, he saw literally no other accessible point of entry. The city was surrounded by the very hillside itself and climbing up it would leave him completely exposed to the dutiful guards.

  This did not deter Corbin; it was more like a challenge he was ready to conquer. If he had learned one thing in his short life, it was that there is always a way through the defenses of his prey. You just had to remain patient and keep looking. Once he spied the miners coming from the area at the base of the waterfall, he knew he had found the chink in Dudje’s armor. It was not a big enough weakness to cause any real harm to the town, but still enough for him to sneak inside.

  Miners came out every hour in groups, wheeling heavy barrows filled with a grayish-silver ore. They loaded these onto waiting barges that transported the heavy load into Dudje through a massive portcullis.

  Scouting it, Corbin knew the opportunity had to be seized swiftly. As he ran down the hill toward the riverbank, he was careful to keep his footsteps silent and used the cover of large mushrooms and thorny bushes to hide his descent. He waited, carefully timing it just right, until the miners were not looking in his direction, joking with one another while delivering another load to the barge.

  Then, slick as a snake, he fully immersed himself into the icy river water, with only a thin reed sticking out of the surface, giving him something to suck in air with. Corbin slowly waded through the foamy green liquid, wrist blade extended in case he ran into something hungry, until he bumped the side of the barge.

  Hugging the moving boat, he made his way around to the side of the hull while it edged along the river. He had to duck back under as it came closer to the portcullis to avoid being spotted by the armored guards overhead. He could make out their murky shapes on the rampart above from beneath the water, marching back and forth to keep watch.

  Once inside the town, the barge drifted sluggishly down a long gnome-made canal where boats were docked on either side, fixed to their owners’ back steps. Dozens of diminutive gnomes went about their business along the cobblestone streets that ran parallel to the slow-moving river, carrying baskets of vegetables or walking with their children on the way to meet a relative. It was just regular, everyday business for the peaceful folk, very much like his home of Riverbell. Except his village never had anything as impressive as the electric lights dotting the various houses in town. Corbin wondered what kind of lightning stone they possessed to generate so much power.

  With no time for gawking at the twinkling lights, he set his mind to the task at hand, remaining hidden and looking for some clue as to the whereabouts of Logan. Outside the city, this had seemed hopeful. However, now that he was here, looking at the tightly packed buildings and obvious lack of any other humans, it seemed unlikely he would be able to get very far before being spotted.

  The barge motor dropped to a low rumble as it drifted into dock, prompting Corbin to stay on the move. He popped back under the water. Like a fish, he knifed his way across the river to an empty docked boat. With barely a splash, he pulled himself out of the green river and up the side of the cargo vessel. It was large enough that he could hide unseen behind some sealed crates to dry.

  Pulling off his breeches, he wrung them out as well as possible then switched them for a dry pair in his sealed pack. Cool evening air was rolling off the river, and he sighed at the feel of the warm fabric against his skin. Corbin was changing his top when he dropped the wet tunic and peeked around the crates. There were voices coming from the doorway at the end of the short wooden dock.

  He cursed himself for being a fool. There was no escape route to slip back into the water without someone catching him. If he went over the hull, the five gnomes unloading ore would have an eyeful, and he did not dare attempt to run across the deck, which would completely expose him to the three now making their way down the small dock.

  His only option was to become a shadow, shifting deeper into the barricade of crates. As quietly as he could, he slipped back into the soaked tunic.

  Suddenly the riverboat growled, as one of the gnomes had begun paddling his legs hard to get the kinetic motor activated. Corbin knew it was time to make a run for it. He readied to jump out onto the dock, praying the sailors would not see their intruder, when a woman shouted from the doorway to her husband, who was on the boat.

  “You forgot your breakfast, you lug head,” she exclaimed, running the food down to him.

  “Aw, I just wanted to see you come a-running, sweetness,” the gnome said. His friend thought that was funny, but she only scowled.

  “Just you try to get back before dinner time. And don’t go getting drunk, neither.”

  The gnome blew her kisses and promised not to. Then the boat was off, ripping into the still water with some vigor.

  Corbin decided there was nothing to it. He would have to cut his losses and figure out a better time of day to sneak back into the town. Not that he had much choice, as they approached the second portcullis. He scrambled to conceal himself snuggly between the shadows of two stacks of crates, thankfully invisible to the guards overhead, as they came out the other side of town. The river sure did not cut through too much of the city, he noted, unlike Riverbell, which more or less ran parallel to the Naga River.

  He had little hope of slipping off the boat, which was small enough that he could smell the gnome’s sugary scrum when it was uncorked. He decided to wait until the sailors had enough of the drink to make them sloppy and there was more distance between him and the armored town guards. With nothing else to do, he hunkered in for a short rest.

  The drunker the sailors got, the more stories they told. One was recounting a tale of his fishing trip from the previous week, which would sound like a boring topic unless you were a gnome who had been pulled underwater, not by the fish you caught but by the bait you used. Corbin liked these gnomes. They were a funny bunch, and he felt guilty for stowing away on their vessel.

  But it was time he made his move.

  As if someone had heard his thoughts, the motor suddenly switched off, and one of the gnomes began hushing his companions. “Shhh… come on now, quiet, you two. Do ye here that?”

  Corbin’s heart was thumping in his ears. Did they hear him readying to jump off the boat?

  One of the gnomes tried to laugh it off, telling his friend he had too much to drink, but he snapped at them. “Listen…there it is again.”

  Corbin held his breath, wondering how good their gnome ears could possibly be. Did they hear him breathing? He had no wish to hurt these gnomes and was prepared to make a mad dash for it before it came to that.

  “Ah, I hear it now!” the joking gnome agreed.

  Corbin could hear it now too. With some relief he listened intently, knowing it was not him they heard, but someone singing up ahead on the shore.

  “Ho there! Where ye off to so early, Grubble?” the sharp-eared gnome called out to someone on the riverbank.

  “Never ye mind, P
ike, ye nosey blabbermouth,” a gruff voice hollered back with a hint of jest.

  “Who’s he with?” Pike asked his friend. “‘Fraid I’m too drunk to see straight.”

  “You’re seeing right enough. That there’s the engineer Bipp, and a…a human?” he said low enough so Grubble could not hear them. The problem was that what a gnome considered low while he was drunk on scrum was actually quite loud to the sober-minded.

  “Bah, don’t ye worry what we be doin’ with a Falian,” Grubble called back. “On official government business, we are. ‘Sides, I have to keep little Bipp here safe on the road, boys!”

  He was clearly annoyed at being caught and trying to play it aloof. The trio had slipped out early in the morning to keep their expedition quiet, but now that Pike had seen them, every sailor and merchant down the Green Serpent would be aware before nightfall.

  “Best be keepin’ him safe or I’ll have to have that lout Gil fix old Ness here next time she breaks down!” Pike joked, slapping the side of his boat.

  “Better off using those oars, bwahahaha,” Grubble said.

  Corbin peeked over the edge of the boat. Close to the edge of the river on the trail stood a pair of gnomes with his brother. Baetylus was mighty indeed, watching out for him like this. He silently thanked the god for his good fortune then stood fully upright.

  Logan was watching the drunken sailors when he saw Corbin rise, finger pointed directly at him. Bipp and Grubble were completely surprised, jumping back from the water’s edge. This completely confused the oblivious sailors, who could not see Corbin behind the crates from their vantage point.

  “Run!” was the only thing Logan could think to yell, pulling his friend Bipp back up the trail. The trio made a mad dash at full speed as Corbin dived into the river with a loud splash.

  The gnomes on the boat looked at each other in confusion. Pike shrugged before firing up the engine and going back to their drink. “That was weird.”

  The current had more force to it here, but Corbin made it across the river well enough. Once he was out of the drink, he hit the ground running. All the years Logan had been up to his pranks and loafing about, finding any way he could to get out of chores, Corbin had been honing his hunting skills and mastering his martial arts. The distance between them was shortening with great speed.

  Baetylus’ form appeared ten yards ahead in the tall grass to the right, pale and ghostly. The god’s voice was much lower now in Corbin’s head, dampened by the distance to his crystalline shell. “Cut across here. Don’t let him get away!”

  Without a second thought, Corbin ran through the thicket, jumping over a rotting log, and back onto the trail where it wound around a corner. He landed directly in front of the fleeing group.

  The look of triumph on his face was quickly wiped off when the gnomes spread to either side of the path, each holding a rope taut in their strong, stubby hands. The chord hit his shins, flipping Corbin over face first into the dirt, while his brother jumped over his prone body.

  “Quickly now, get up! They are escaping!” the All-Father’s voice echoed far away.

  Brushing the dust from his eyes, Corbin hopped back to his feet in time to hear a heavy splash, followed by another. Coming around the corner, he saw Logan standing atop a large boulder over a steep precipice where the river dropped to the east.

  “Logan, stop!” Corbin called, halting in his tracks, worried his brother would do something reckless. “Get down from there, it’s dangerous! You have to come back with me,” he pleaded, holding out his arms. “Think of Riverbell.”

  Logan looked at him, wondering why his brother had followed him this far. Why couldn’t he just go back and leave him alone? “Go home, Corbin. Just tell them I’m dead,” he said for the second in time in as many days, thinking his brother must not have understood him the first time due to Bipp’s frying pan greeting.

  “You know I can’t do that!” Corbin shouted. “For once in your life, stop being selfish. You have to come back and make things right, now get down here!”

  Logan just stared lovingly at him and smiled. He wished he could be the person his brother wanted him to be. With a shrug, he jumped backward off the ledge into the rushing water.

  Corbin was simultaneously filled with both dread for his brother’s safety and rage at his callousness. Already in action, he did not need to hear the All-Father’s echoes, spurring him to pursue. There was just enough time to take in a gulp of air before he leapt off the small cliff into the rushing green river below.

  The current pulled him much harder this time as the river churned steeply downward, building momentum the farther it went. The world became a flurry of waving arms desperately fighting to keep above the chill water. His body was yanked underneath over and over again. Each time, he clawed to get his head back above the surface, gasping for precious oxygen, with only a momentary glimpse of what lay ahead.

  He narrowly missed an outcropping of rocks through sheer luck. Logan was slightly ahead of him, doing the same, while each of the gnomes fought the rapids on some sort of thin metallic floating devices. Another mouthful of the icy water filled Corbin’s lungs. He dimly wondered how something so cold could burn his insides as the current pulled harder against his body.

  Some primal instinct in him knew that if he did not let go and accept the pull of the current, he would never win this battle against nature. Letting his body fall limp, he was tugged forcefully down to the riverbed below. Throwing his weight into it, he zipped past Logan’s struggling form. By now his lungs felt ready to burst, sorely needing oxygen. He knew it was time to make a wild scramble back to the surface.

  As his head shot up out of the water, Logan was within arm’s reach, yet he could not grasp him, his body too busy choking to get the river water out of his lungs and bring in air.

  Rapidly approaching downstream was a gnomish-built barricade of wooden stakes, bound together in a crisscross pattern. This was to signal inexperienced sailors to stay away from that area of the Green Serpent, as it led to cursed lands. Grubble was already pulling Bipp out of their lightweight craft by the barricade. Logan was groping wildly for a handhold on one of the tuberous roots sticking into the river from the leafless trees that lined its muddy banks.

  Corbin thought that was a good idea and tried to do the same. He managed a grip on one, steadying his body against the current, but it snapped in half and he went back under.

  Logan was already out of the rapids and reached down to yank his little brother from the drink. He heaved Corbin onto the bank of the river and held his knees, trying to catch his breath. Corbin coughed up the water still sloshing around in his lungs. As his chest heaved to catch warm air, Logan patted his back, forcing more of the water out.

  Corbin swatted his arm away in disgust, a look of revulsion etched on his face. To Logan it was as if he wore a mask, one that looked like his younger brother yet was so twisted with hatred he could be a stranger. He even wondered for the tiniest fraction of second if this was not an imposter after all.

  “You maniac, you almost got us killed!” Corbin screamed, rising from the mud.

  Logan could not believe his ears. “You got some nerve. I told you to go home. What were you thinking, following me out here? This isn’t one of your hunts, Corbin. I’m not a boar, I’m your family.”

  Baetylus’ voice was a mere whisper in the back of his mind, urging him to reason with Logan, find some way to get him to come back before it was too late. Corbin rubbed his temples, unable to think clearly. “You do not even care about Riverbell. You could care less that right now Elise’s life is in danger!”

  Logan stopped. “Elise is…but why would they hurt little Elise?”

  Years of pent-up frustration bubbled to the surface of Corbin’s mind. “It never ends with you, does it? Nothing matters in your sick version of reality except what you need. No wonder dad left. How could he possibly want to stay around someone as pathetic as you?” Corbin was shouting now, his
heart filled with rage and veins pumping adrenaline. The pained look on Logan’s face did not even register. All he saw was a selfish smile on his disgusting, selfish face, a face he wanted to crush.

  Baetylus coldly whispered into that rage, “Destroy him.”

  It was the third jab to Logan’s stomach that told him his own sibling was attacking him. Corbin was fast as a serpent, giving no warning as he furiously pressed in with a flurry of fists. Throwing a blind backhand that connected with his brother’s jaw gave Logan just enough time to mount a defense, throwing his forearms up to block the next round of blows.

  Unlatching his hammer, Bipp moved forward to go to his friend’s aid but was blocked by Grubble’s thick, hairy forearm.

  The warrior nodded at the skirmish. “Not our place. This be family business.”

  Bipp understood, but it did not make him feel any better. There was something deeply wrong about watching the two men fight.

  “Cheer up. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and the Falian will kill yer friend. Then we can get home early.”

  Bipp gave the chuckling warrior a disapproving glare, but he hardly seemed to care.

  Logan ducked under another roundhouse, snapping his leg out into his brother’s thigh and knocking him off balance. He moved in for a follow up, quickly redirecting to avoid a crashing blow from the unsheathed voulge.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Logan screamed at the lunacy of his brother pulling the deadly weapon on him.

  Corbin did not reply, instead swimming in his blind rage. He swung the voulge directly for Logan’s midsection, barely missing, each swipe coming dangerously closer. Logan kicked hard into the ground, flinging dirt into his brother’s face.

  Rubbing his stinging eyes, Corbin was blind to Logan’s uppercut. Corbin was practiced in the martial arts, as good a fighter as any ever met in New Fal. But he was no match for Logan’s sheer strength. The uppercut lifted him right off his feet, which Logan deftly followed by slamming both fists into his chest. By the time Corbin hit the ground, it was a good five feet from where he had been standing. When he lifted his head, he found Logan running in to continue the assault.

  Corbin waited until the distance was closed, then cartwheeled his legs into a spinning ground kick, throwing Logan off balance, and following up with three more jabs to his pelvis, knocking the air out of him. Logan did not have time to block Corbin’s choking grip on his throat, while his left hand continued to pound into his gut, slapping away Logan’s feeble attempts to block.

  “Well, that’s too much,” Bipp said. “We gotta jump in, Grubble.”

  The older gnome was about to agree when he stopped Bipp again. “Shhh…do ye hear that?”

  Logan was not sure who he was looking at. Surely this could not be the kind, generous, loving brother he had grown up with? This person was a stranger to him, his face dripping with hatred, his eyes filled with a maniacal gleam. Logan tried to gurgle out a protest for his brother to stop, but the words could not escape through the maniac’s strangling grip. The world began to fade around the corners.

  It was surreal the way the anger melted away, as if a mask fell off, revealing Corbin wearing a horrified look of recognition around his eyes. Suddenly Logan was thrown to the side, just as a small arrow zipped past where his head had been.

  “Cobolds!” Grubble howled, the word meant as a battle cry. He swung a readied double-headed battle-axe to face the enemy.

  Bipp was already by Logan’s side, helping him to his feet as Corbin protected the two of them, swinging his voulge in a defensive circle, knocking two more arrows out of the air.

  The cobolds were screaming and hooting like animals as they crashed in around the group. The feral little creatures resembled a twisted version of the gnomes, except with tufts of fur covering the backside of their arms and legs, and their faces were like a cross between a dog and snake, with slits for eyes and rows of needle sharp fangs. They were slightly smaller than the gnomes and wore the skins of animals they had hunted, some with matching bone jewelry.

  Grubble roared back at the screaming monsters, whipping his axe down hard enough to cleave the closest one nearly in half from the shoulder to the waist. Logan caught a flurry of movement behind him. He spun around just in time to block one of the creature’s swinging daggers with his metal hand. Bipp jumped out from his side and caved in the humanoid’s skull with a heavy blow from his hammer.

  The ferocious onslaught rushed in from all sides. Corbin no sooner parried a swinging club than he was working to block another stinging dagger. Moving his weapon back to block the blunt weapon, he deftly reversed course, leading with the voulge blade. The maneuver worked, severing the dagger wielder’s forearm clean off. Corbin flinched when a crossbow bolt whizzed by and embedded deeply into the other monster’s forehead. Looking back, he saw Logan reloading his weapon as three more of the feral creatures rushed through the bushes behind them.

  Bipp flung some shimmering dust in their faces, blinding them long enough for Corbin to flip over his brother’s head and land behind the humanoids. Bipp bludgeoned the nearest one, while the other two rubbing the stinging dust out of their eyes. Corbin threw his weight into a wide swing of the voulge, beheading both of the mongrels in one blow.

  Logan let a double shot of bolts fly, taking out a cobold who was just about to slam a club into Grubble’s skull from behind. A pile of the vanquished monsters littered the ground like bloody, torn ragdolls around the veteran warrior.

  And just like that, the battle was over as fast as it had begun, leaving only the dim echo of clashing weapons. The silence was almost staggering in the wake of the sheer violence they had just been thrust into. The group looked around at each other in wonder, taking in the dead humanoids littering the riverbank. There had to be ten cobolds at least. Someone walking onto the scene would have thought them a band of madmen, as Grubble began laughing at their fortune.

  Bipp shared his mirth, and Corbin felt it too. They had just been confronted by an entire band of cobolds and come through the other side unscathed.

  But not Logan.

  He swayed slightly as he hovered over the bodies of the creatures he had just slain. Bipp’s laugh faltered as he followed Corbin’s gaze to his brother. Logan was staring at his crossbow. His face was drained of color with beads of cold sweat on his brow, and he looked like he was ready to be sick. He took a deep, steadying gulp of air, and Bipp walked over to him.

  “We killed them…,” Logan said, looking down at the gnome. “Murdered every last one of them.”

  Bipp set a hand on his shaky forearm, steadying the crossbow. “We didn’t have a choice,” Bipp said, feeling his pain.

  “I never…they were alive and now they’re dead,” Logan whispered.

  “Suck it up, goldilocks,” Grubble said, wiping the blood off his axe head. “Ain’t like you can reason with the dogs.”

  Logan’s head twitched in an unsure nod. “Yes…of course. It was necessary.”

  Waves of guilt washed over Corbin, watching his brother’s reaction. The sick feeling that had assaulted him at the cannibal’s camp came back. He knew exactly how Logan felt. How could he ever have believed that his brother was capable of murdering Mr. Beauford?

  With a very real look of concern that only siblings could share, Corbin grabbed his big brother by the arm and turned him around to face him. Logan’s eyes unglazed a bit and he stared back at him. A wall of silence went up in the group, the gnomes stopping to watch the exchange.

  Logan stared firmly into Corbin’s eyes. “You have to believe me. I did not murder him.”

  What Logan could not know was that at that moment, Corbin’s psionic talent flared, driving deep into his brother’s mind and flooding Corbin not only with images of all Logan had been through since they arrived in Fal, but also with his emotions. He felt his older brother’s anguish when he held the young peddler boy’s dead body and the overwhelming guilt for not being there to protect the boy from the ruffians
who had killed him. He felt enraged by the watchmen’s callous words and heart-gripping terror watching the ebony-skinned assassin’s toothy grin slinking into the shadows, followed by deep anguish when the light faded from Mr. Beauford’s eyes.

  Such an overwhelming surge of emotions rained over Corbin’s mind that tears began to stream from the corners of his eyes. He understood it all now, everything his brother had experienced in Fal, and the fear he felt fleeing over the wall, thinking he would never see his brother and Elise again.

  Corbin pulled his brother in for a hug. He did not need to express that he believed him. That is the funny thing about brothers. If they only try, they can always understand each other, without words being necessary.

  Grubble clapped the back of Bipp’s neck. “Are ye gonna cry now too?” he mocked the teary-eyed gnome, though Bipp noted there was a small squeak in the warrior’s voice as well. “Been spendin’ too much time with the human, lad.”

  The men broke to gather themselves, and Logan walked the area, retrieving any crossbow bolts still in useable condition.

  Meanwhile, Bipp approached Corbin, thumbs tucked into his pants pockets. “So, uh...sorry about that whole frying pan business. Seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, you did have him hogtied fit for a barbeque.” Bipp kicked the dirt.

  “No worries, good gnome, I understand,” Corbin said. “My brother is lucky to have made such a good friend out here.”

  With that out of the way, the men all respectfully introduced themselves to one another.

  Logan finished surveying the area and walked back over to the group. “Corbin, I will go back with you. There is no way I can let Elise live in danger.”

  A flood of relief washed over Corbin that was so intense he thought he might actually pass out. “That is so great. I promise you that Arch Councilor Zacharia and the Elders will see the truth in you, as do I. We can settle this misunderstanding, and everyone will be safe.”

  “I believe in you, I really do,” Logan said. “However, I will only return with you once we see this journey through to the end. I can’t just abandon this; there is too much I need to know. You see, Mr. Beauford warned me...,” He walked Corbin through the story of how he came to be there, searching for the truth that Mr. Beauford only hinted at.

  “Hmmm…I am as intrigued as you,” Corbin said thoughtfully. “What was so important that Fafnir had to kill Mr. Beauford? It would do us well to uncover this. It could help us to prove your innocence and shed light on the magistrate’s corruption.”

  “To discover the truth, it is all lies,” Logan said. “Curious last words, right? You have to admit, since leaving Fal, we’ve certainly been confronted by lies. For example, why not tell us the truth of the gnome settlements out here? Why lie about the wildlands?”

  “Yes, it is a bit puzzling,” Corbin said.

  “And after learning about the seer script in Mayor Fimbas’ library, you can see why I need to do this?” Logan asked. He stopped and cocked his head as something occurred to him. “Wait, how in the heck did you track me all this way anyhow? You’ve always been a decent scout, but no one is that good.”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you on the way to Ul’kor,” Corbin said. “I know how much this means to you, and it sounds like we’re almost there as it is. We should be able to get in and out with enough time left to make it back to New Fal before the remaining twelve days are over. I promise you this, brother—I will not sway you from this path.”

  Baetylus urged Corbin to reconsider, quietly protesting the dangers of going any further into the wilds. But Corbin silently disagreed, trusting in his brother’s destiny.

  “If you two are done kissin’ and makin’ up,” Grubble said, “best we be gettin’ out of here before another raidin’ party discovers our presence. Have no doubt that some of the little rats may have heard all the commotion and went to get reinforcements.”

  The group agreed it would be better to vacate the area right away. They made short work of tossing the dead cobolds into the river, hoping it would at least buy them some time. Deciding the path was too exposed, they slipped into the dense overgrowth, heading north toward the ruins of Ul’kor.

  “So…tell me this long story of yours,” Logan whispered to his brother.