The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1)

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The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1) Page 24

by Ethridge, Aaron J.


  “The runes,” Nyssa answered. “For the moment they don't have any power. Until they start glowing again, the gateway is where it's going to stay.”

  “Either way,” he replied. “We're not going to be murdered by wraiths or reapers.”

  “Not at the moment,” the fairy pointed out.

  “I see what you mean,” he replied, stepping through the portal as he did so.

  The ladies had managed to set the gateway roughly a foot from the edge of the well and Paul moved from the interior of the chamber to the thick green grass of the little island of life in a single step. He then turned around to find a stone doorway, with a room very obviously inside of it, standing without so much as a wall to support it, in the middle of the dark lands.

  “This is incredible,” he said, striding quickly around to the rear of the portal.

  However, before he had even reached the side of the door it seemed to vanish. As his friends began to emerge, their arms filled with weapons and armor, he stood where he knew the back of the passage had to be. There was nothing there. His allies just seemed to appear from nowhere the moment they stepped from the chamber.

  “This is just wild,” he said with a wide smile, moving around to the front of the door and striding back into the treasure filled room.

  “It is,” Darek agreed. “Now grab some of this would you?”

  “One moment,” Myra said. “Paul, come back out, please.”

  Immediately he did as the maiden requested. As soon as he had, she stepped back into the chamber.

  “Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “It seems that any of us can get in it now. Which means that anyone else might be able to. It's even possible that the undead could find a way to creep in.”

  “That would stink,” Paul observed.

  “It would,” she nodded. “So let's get everything out that we can. It'll be safe here. Well, safe from the undead at least.”

  For the next few hours the party removed everything the chamber would allow them to lift. Weapons, armor, books, bolts of cloth, necklaces, bracers, and a variety of other items were soon piled on the sward. As the sun sank below the horizon the band was busy carrying, and then concealing, these items near the very heart of the fairy well. Finally their task was complete and they were able to sit down to a dinner of fresh fruit.

  “It's pretty obvious,” Paul began, his gaze locked on Myra, “what the weapons and armor most of us got are for. But I've been wondering about the stuff you and Nyssa got.”

  “It's a holy ring,” the fairy said, holding out her hand and staring at the gem on her tiny finger. “They're very rare and wonderful.”

  “And what do they do?”

  “Remember when I told you that fairy magic was weaker on unholy ground?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well now mine's not,” she replied with a smile.

  “And these bracers act like armor,” Myra explained. “They actually cover me in a shield of magic that can block swords and arrows just as well as steel.”

  “And the necklace?” he asked.

  “Actually I have no idea,” she admitted, lifting it as she spoke. “I just took it because it was meant for me. I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually.”

  “Another thing we need to figure out,” Darek asserted, “is what to do with all this stuff now that we have it. We can't just leave it sitting here. It needs to be put to use.”

  “It does,” Alena agreed. “But we have to be really careful. We don't want it just ending up in the hands of the enemy. The living had far more equipment than this when the war was lost in the first place. If we're going to fuel a rebellion and overthrow the undead we're going to have to go about it the right way.”

  “Absolutely,” Sarrac nodded. “And it's not just our decision. We happen to have been the ones fortunate enough to find all this, but the entire order should be called on to help decide what to do with it.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Darek asked. “We're not exactly the most organized order that ever existed.”

  “No, we're not,” the ogre chuckled. “But we have a few threads we can pull to get things started. I think it would be a good idea to take a few weapons to Thaelen. Probably half the citizens of Jannac are members of the order. And, actually, he might want to bring his family out here and act as our quartermaster.”

  “I don't know about that,” Nyssa said, shaking her head. “This is hallowed ground, Sarrac. It's one thing for non-fey to seek shelter here for a night or two, especially when they're with me. It's quite another to have a family move in. Galfin isn't likely to allow that.”

  “What if they made the treasury into a house and lived there?” Alena suggested.

  “That would still be cutting it close,” the fairy said thoughtfully. “But I think they could get away with it. Especially if I put in a good word for them. Which, of course, I would.”

  “That's a good starting point then,” Darek said. “For one thing, I feel confident that Thaelen could get word to Greg. He'd have a hard time getting out here, but we may be able to work out some kind of relay system or something.”

  “That's a good idea,” Alena nodded. “In any event, for the time being, we need to get some sleep. We want to get as far as we can before nightfall tomorrow, so we're going to need to start early.”

  And start early they did. The following morning, before the sun had climbed into the heavens the party was already on its way to Jannac. It would take them roughly three days on foot, especially considering the fact that five of them were toting extra weapons. Paul dreaded the plain of dust as he had come to think of it. However, knowing what to expect made it somewhat easier to bear. And they put it behind them before the sun set on their first day.

  As they sat around the campfire, each of them lit by its warm and merry light, Paul finally decided to discuss a subject with Myra that had long been on his mind.

  “Myra,” he said, shortly after the pair had finished their evening meal. “I want to talk to you.”

  “You are talking to me,” she smiled.

  “Well, yes, I guess I am,” he admitted. “But I mean talk to you.”

  “That sounds rather serious,” she laughed.

  “It is,” he nodded. “To me it is anyway.”

  “Alright,” she replied, sitting up very straight and staring into his eyes. “What is it?”

  “Don't do that,” he chuckled, glancing away from her.

  “Do what?”

  “Try to stare me down.”

  “I'm not trying to stare you down, I'm just paying attention.”

  “Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. “In that case, I want to ask you...”

  “Yes?”

  “I mean,” he continued. “We're pretty good friends aren't we?”

  “Very good,” she nodded. “At least in my opinion we are.”

  “I feel the same way!” he replied, with a bit more enthusiasm than he intended. “In fact, you're probably one of my best friends.”

  “You guys are my best friends,” she smiled. “Of course, you're my only friends... but even if you weren't I'm sure you would be my best ones.”

  “I'm glad,” he said with a swallow. “Because honestly you're one of the best friends I've ever had.”

  “I feel the same way about you.”

  “I mean,” he continued. “Very few of my friends have ever saved my life.”

  “Same here.”

  “But friendship isn't everything, of course.”

  “I guess not,” she replied. “But it is a whole lot!”

  “Oh yes,” he nodded. “Absolutely! On the other hand, there is more to life than just friendship.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Okay,” he said with another swallow. “Nothing to do, but to just do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Myra,” he said, before taking a deep breath. “Will you go out with me?”

  “We are out,” she laughed, gazing a
round her. “We're in the middle of nowhere. I don't know that you can get any more out than this. Do you mean you want to get away from the others for a while?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” he nodded. “What I mean to say is: would you be willing to go on a date with me? If we don't end up dead in the next few days, of course.”

  “That doesn't make any sense,” she said shaking her head.

  “Well I mean...”

  “On a date,” she continued thoughtfully. “No, there's no way to make that make sense. We're all on the same date all the time. What are you talking about?”

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Semantic confusion, perfectly normal, we come from two different cultures, so although the words may be the same the meanings are different.”

  “Is this still part of the question?” she asked.

  “Sort of,” he replied. “Alright, Myra, do you remember when I kissed you?”

  As soon as he asked this question she dropped her eyes and looked away. A slight blush rose to her cheeks as she sat in silence for a moment.

  “Yes...” she slowly replied.

  “Well,” he swallowed. “Would you like me to do it again at some point in the future?”

  “Oh,” she giggled. “Are you saying you want to court me?”

  “Semantics...” he replied. “I know that word, but I don't think you're asking if I want to arrest you.”

  “No, I'm not,” she smiled.

  “Or even handcuff you,” he continued with a bit of a dreamy look in his eyes.

  “What is hand cuff?” she asked. “Like hit me on the hand? Is that some kind of an Earth custom?”

  “Never mind,” he replied. “From context, I'm thinking court is probably another word for date. So, yes, that is what I'm saying.”

  “So, what is it you're saying exactly?” she asked with a coy smile.

  “I don't how to say it here,” he replied shaking his head. “And you're not making it easy.”

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  “No,” he replied. “No, you're not.”

  “No, I mean yes,” she smiled. “I'll allow you to press your suit.”

  “Is that the custom on Zanoth?”

  “It is,” she assured him.

  “Alright,” he said taking another deep breath, “Well then, I'll take care of that a soon as I can. So... are we dating now, or do we have to wait until I get a suit?”

  “What suit?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

  “I mean the suit you want me to press,” he explained, shaking his head. “The one we were just talking about.”

  “Oh,” she giggled again. “I meant suit, not suit. And how would you press a suit, anyway? Press a suit makes sense, but press a suit? Like clothes? What does that even mean?”

  “Alright,” he replied, wiping his hand across his forehead. “Forget that. My question is: are we dating?”

  “I think so,” she said thoughtfully, raising one eyebrow. “But we would call it courting.”

  “Good,” he smiled. “I'm glad. Now, just to make sure we're on the same page, explain courting to me.”

  “If you don't know,” she said, a rising inflection in her voice, “then why did you ask me if...”

  “I know what dating is,” he interrupted. “And I know I want to do that! It seems to me that dating is courting, but this is Zanoth and it could mean any kind of crazy thing.”

  “Well courting,” she began, “is when a man and woman spend time together to find out whether or not each wants to marry the other. Is that what you had in mind?”

  “Marry, eh?” he swallowed. “Yeah... Yeah, it is. And that's basically what dating is, I guess.”

  “I'm glad,” she smiled.

  “So...” he said thoughtfully. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

  “We've been courting for like a minute and a half now,” she replied shaking her head. “That's a little too fast don't you think?”

  “Oh sure,” he nodded. “Of course. I just got excited.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do be sure to tell me when the minimum amount of time has passed before I can kiss you again.”

  “Don't worry,” she replied with a blush. “I will.”

  Although it appeared to be too early in their courtship for the young man to just up and kiss his lady love, it turned out that it wasn't too soon for her to get cold in the eighty degree evening and cuddle up to his side. Of course, he'd have happily crawled into an oven to get that close to her again. So, all things considered, it was with a deep sense of contentment that he fell asleep that night.

  The following day passed without incident. The band felt this was due, at least in part, to Lord Telraen's determination to guard sites which they had no intention of approaching for the time being. The most exciting thing that happened, at least from the point of view of the young man, was that he discovered that one day was not a long enough courtship to justify more kissing.

  On Sarrac's advice they decided to spend a third night in the wilderness and head into Jannac on the following morning. They had seen very few undead, and those few they were able to easily avoid with Nyssa's aid. Paul and Myra ended up taking second watch together, where he learned that two days also wasn't long enough. However, the young lady assured him that she was keeping a careful eye on it and would do her best not to make him wait a second more than was required by common decency.

  As the sun was just touching the treetops on the following morning the band made its way into the village and up to Thaelen's door. Sarrac pounded on the portal and moments later the owner opened it.

  “I can't believe it,” he said, a wide smile on his face. “But I guess I have to. That's her, there's no two ways about that. I guess Paul really is the it.”

  “May we come in?” Sarrac asked.

  “Of course!” Thaelen replied. “Of course! Sorry, it's just a lot to take in.”

  “I understand,” the ogre smiled. “And you may want to get a few of the others. We need to talk.”

  “I'm sure we do,” the man agreed.

  Minutes later the entire party, along with ten of the men of Jannac, were all sitting together in Thaelen's home.

  “What I want to know,” one of the younger men said, a look of suspicion on his face, “is why you saved Myra Kel Marran.”

  “Because she's a valuable ally,” Sarrac assured him.

  “I'll believe that when I see it,” he replied with a dark laugh.

  “And you will,” Myra smiled. “I know what you must think of me, but I really am on your side.”

  “No doubt,” the young man replied. “Now that your undead kin have denounced you.”

  “No!” Paul said, rising from his seat. “She was denounced because she's on our side.”

  “So you...”

  “That's enough, Alex!” Thaelen snapped. “If you're not wise enough to hold your tongue you can leave until the grown men are finished talking.”

  “Then speak!” the young man barked. “So far I haven't heard anything worth hearing.”

  “Take a look at this,” Sarrac said, throwing the young man one of the extra swords they had brought with them. “That's just one blade from a cache of weapons and armor the it...”

  “Please refer to me as Paul,” the young man interjected.

  “That Paul,” the ogre continued, “discovered in Paffek's tomb. We now have the tools we need to strike against the undead. And we've come here to discuss how to make the best use of them. The question is: where do we start?”

  “Kill the garrison here,” the young man said, staring at the blade in his hand.

  This suggestion was met with laughter of general agreement.

  “I can see the temptation,” Thaelen replied. “I'd love to see them dead myself. But we should only resort to things on that scale if we have no other choice. We need to start small.”

  “I agree,” Darek said. “But what does that
leave us? Where should we begin?”

  “I think we should begin arming the Warriors,” one of the other men said. “Give them the weapons they need to strike and then start coordinating attacks.”

  “I see your point,” Thaelen nodded. “But it's dangerous. These weapons are clearly magical and that means the undead spell casters could possibly track whoever holds one.”

  “That's true,” Myra agreed. “And it is a danger, but without weapons you can't fight. Tracking minor magical items also takes a good deal of effort. If you keep on the move you'll be hard to find and even harder to catch.”

  “Well we need to pick our fight first,” Thaelen replied. “Then we can arm the Warriors so they can see it through. And that means we have to select an initial target.”

  “We have one,” Alena said. “Lord and Lady Telraen.”

  “That's hardly starting small,” he replied.

  “I disagree,” the ogress said, beginning to pace the floor. “They are just two people. If they died the undead would be destabilized in this area. They would immediately start fighting amongst themselves. And they would keep that up as long as we didn't give them a common enemy!”

  “We would be a common enemy!”

  “Not if we strike and fade!” she continued. “If we do it right, they'll be terrified of Paul. He'll show up, slaughter one of them, and then vanish. They won't have anyone to roll troops out against. They'll be trying to fight a shadow, an echo. ”

  “Even if you were right,” Thaelen replied, “we don't have a way in.”

  “Actually we do,” Myra asserted.

  “And what's that?” he asked.

  “My staff,” the maiden replied. “At least it may be. There's a good chance I can teleport us into my former chamber in the Tower of Daelfaun.”

  “That would be handy,” Thaelen admitted. “If we could get a large enough force...”

  “Well, no,” she interrupted. “I could transport myself and my companions, but that would be about the limit of my capabilities.”

  “That's no good then,” he replied shaking his head. “Six of you couldn't...”

  “Yes we could,” Sarrac asserted. “We could kill them. We've faced them before and I'm certain that armed like this we can defeat them.”

  “What can we do to help?” Thaelen asked.

 

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