The Titan's Tome

by M. B. Schroeder

  She’d been looking into demons, the Hells, and the two sarpand brothers since they’d come across the temple in Nox’Len over two years ago. She wanted to learn more about the demons she suspected killed her family. She wanted to know how the brothers tied into the Hells, and what sort of favor she could get from them. Log Port was the only place she knew that consistently had a host of demons. Perhaps fighting them would give her the death she needed to gain the Ancient’s attention and reunite with her family?

  She couldn’t tell Kharick and Seal, they would never understand. They barely understood her wearing black. They only knew she was an exile, though she’d never explained why. She’d lose control of her emotions and cry. She hated crying, it was a weakness, a thing children did. She was like a water bug, gliding over the surface of a pond that held her anguish, if she fell into that grief, she wasn’t sure how she would climb back out.

  As they walked back to the inn, Madger stopped at an herb merchant. She bought some dried lavender, her last sprig in her pack was crumbling to near nothingness. It’d become a habit of hers to keep some in her pack.

  ***

  Morkleb’s ears drooped as the rain continued to hammer down on him. It was getting dark, he was lost, and there was no way for him to start a fire. It was fall, and the temperature was plummeting with the sun. He tugged the hood of his cloak forward, trying to keep the rain from hitting the end of his nose.

  “Throwing me into the deep waters,” Morkleb grumbled, just to hear a voice, echoing Master Len’s words. The road was muddy, and some splashes had reached high enough to stain the hem of his white cassock. He’d thought about traveling without it on, to not cover his sturdy traveling clothes with it, but people wouldn’t know he was a cleric of Thesda if they needed help.

  He’d gotten his clerical robes in late spring and told his family when they visited in the summer. After a few more months of honing his clerical skills, Master Len told him to go out into the world. It had been the extent of his directions.

  He thought there was supposed to be a hostel further down the road, or maybe a farmhouse he could stop at, but for the last two hours, he hadn’t seen a hint of people. Not even smoke from a fire. He was well past the farms that surrounded Log Port to the west, and the land had shifted from the orderly rows of crops and fenced pastures to a wilder look. Grasses and bushes grew randomly, small copses of trees dotted the landscape, and nothing but the road gave him a direction.

  Lightning flashed overhead, he didn’t dare try and fly in this weather. He had only left Log Port that morning, but had flown for several hours, putting him far beyond what he knew.

  The meager light the cloud covered sun provided was rapidly fading. “Thesda help me.”

  In the distance, beyond several hills, a waft of smoke lifted.

  He chuckled. “Thank you.”

  It was dark before he reached the point of smoke and it wasn’t until he saw the little flickering fire that he realized it wasn’t coming from a chimney. There was little option but to beg for help from the people who had made it. As he got closer, he saw one had a stronger aura than the others, a muted gray, but the person was laying down, nothing but a dark shape behind the light of the fire. He realized the person must be a mage, the fire wasn’t being dampened by the rain, and there was no shelter erected. Two more people were seated near the fire, their backs to him, and the light silhouetted them.

  “Hello?” Thesda help him, he hoped they spoke the Merchant language.

  “Hello, little drowned rat,” a woman’s voice answered.

  The one on the far side shifted, the mage, and something said but he couldn’t discern their low conversation. “I’m lost. I’m a cleric of Thesda. My name is Morkleb” He wished he had taken his knife out of his pack before saying anything. That was stupid.

  “Come in out of the rain, lad.”

  Morkleb sighed in relief and approached. He recognized the accent of a dwarf, and the woman must be human, he didn’t see the tall ears of an elf outlined by the fire.

  “I said, no.”

  He stopped his advance at the angry voice. The mage. She stood up and Morkleb swallowed. A giant? The light illuminated her eight-foot height, gray skin, and eyes. “No?” Morkleb pushed back his hood and stepped a little closer, holding out his empty hands. “Please, I just need a little help.”

  “Let the lad in, Madger.”

  Madger scowled.

  “I doubt he’s going to hurt us, I heard him coming from quite a ways off.”

  “You’re a mage, look at my aura,” Morkleb said. “I’m a cleric of Thesda. I’m not trained to fight. I’d just like some shelter from the rain. I don’t need anything else.”

  “Earth’s bones,” Madger muttered. She eased the hold on her magic to look at his aura to be sure, and he glowed white like a beacon in the night. She recaptured her magic and parted the weave of the shelter. “Fine.”

  Morkleb hurried the last few steps forward until the rain stopped pattering down on his cloak. He looked around, but except for the rain slooshing off the barrier, couldn’t see the magic that kept them dry. “Thanks.”

  “Stay on that side of the fire,” Madger said. She closed the magical barrier to keep out the weather and laid back down with her back to them.

  “Have a seat. I’m Seal, the mage is Madger, and the dwarf we call Kharick.”

  Morkleb took off his cloak and laid it on the ground to sit on. He stared at Seal’s white hair. It didn’t match the smoothness of her face. “I’m Morkleb.”

  “You said that, lad,” Kharick chuckled.

  “Right, sorry.” Thesda help him, he was terrible at talking to new people. He caught sight of the ax and hammer set next to the dwarf and tried not to let his ears twitch nervously.

  “What’s a cleric of Thesda doing out here, alone?” Seal asked.

  Morkleb turned back to Seal and noticed the daggers she wore at her waist, a hilt poked out from the top of a boot, and a bandolier of throwing knives was on her bedding. What sort of people did he fall in with? “I was tasked to seek out those who need Thesda’s help, and to proselytize to those willing to listen.” He gestured at the sky and weather. “I’m a day out and can’t save myself from the rain.” He glanced at Madger’s back and the large double headed ax nearby, and swallowed. He had been used to weapons on the Nightbane, but these people were strangers to him. “Why this side of the fire?”

  “Sometimes her dreams are vivid, she doesn’t want to hit you,” Seal answered. Madger’s back tensed and Seal continued, despite the warning of her ire. “She has a tendency to spit up blood afterward, could probably use your help. If she’ll let you.”

  “The Twins take you, Seal.”

  “It’s the least I can do for sheltering me for the night.”

  “Let the lad help ya, lass.”

  Madger made a frustrated sound, but sat up and turned to face them. “Will you shut up then?”

  “No.” Seal smiled sweetly.

  “How long have you been spitting up blood?”

  “Six years.”

  “And you haven’t sought healing before?” Morkleb asked in surprise.

  “Oh, she got healed before. Job went bad, and we found a cleric, but that was over two years ago,” Kharick answered.

  “Oh.” Morkleb turned back to Madger. “May I?”

  Madger rolled her eyes. “Might as well, but it’ll just come back.”

  “Did the other cleric say what it was?” Morkleb asked as he moved over to her and knelt, careful to avoid the large ax.

  “An ulcer.”

  “I see. I’m just going to put my hand here.” Morkleb held his hand over her stomach. She nodded, and he began his silent prayer to Thesda. He could feel the damage in her stomach as his hands gained a soft nimbus. He pushed the healing warmth over the ulcer, and it mended. He sat back with a smile and clenched his cold hands together; the healing touch always drained the warmth from them.

  Madger rubbed her belly. “T
hanks.” She nodded to his hands. “They hurt now?”

  “Cold.”

  “Hmm. Use the fire.”

  Morkleb went back to his cloak and held his hands out to the fire. “Where’re you three going?”

  “Log Port,” Seal answered. “Probably contract out for some jobs once Madger finds whatever books she’s looking for.”

  “Books? I’ve read a lot of what’s in the temple library. What are you looking for? I might know if we have it.” Morkleb looked over the three again, Kharick’s scars, Seal’s daggers, Madger’s magic, they had to be mercenaries. Probably better he hadn’t approached with his knife out.

  Madger wanted to turn away. She hadn’t told Seal and Kharick she’d been looking for ways to fight demons. If they saw she was reading something pertaining to that she had passed it off as looking for more spells. It was a poor excuse, but used rare enough the two didn’t suspect anything. She doubted they would let her go after the demons alone, if at all. She’d hoped to find more writing on the subject in Log Port since it was overrun nightly.

  Instead, she raised an eyebrow at Morkleb. “Really? Anything on magic?”

  Morkleb almost grinned, her look reminded him of how Len would sometimes quirk an eyebrow at him. “No. If any were sent to the temple, I imagine they were passed on to someone else who can use them.”

  “Someone in Log Port?”

  Morkleb shook his head, the twin chains in his right ear jingled softly. “I don’t know where. Maybe to the capital where the royal mage court is?” he shrugged. “But your luck is sour, the book repository burned down last winter.”

  Madger rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “So there are no other bookstores or libraries in Log Port?”

  “No. It isn’t a place most people go to for that sort of thing. Just the temple. I heard Fenex has some amazing libraries.”

  Madger grit her teeth. “We came from Fenex.” She huffed a breath and lowered her hand to look at Morkleb. “Your temple has nothing for mages? Not even for fighting demons?”

  Morkleb shook his head. “I read all the books about demons at the temple, there’s nothing about magic in them.” He gestured back to Log Port. “Fighting demons there is suicide.”

  Suicide.

  Morkleb’s ears drooped as soon as he said it. Had he just damned Jarah? No, Master Len said that it was Thesda’s decision. He swallowed back the knot in his throat.

  Madger covered her strained look by rubbing at the bridge of her nose again. She couldn’t go against the demons there after hearing it would be suicide. The Ancient would never accept her.

  Going to Log Port was pointless now. There were no books, she wouldn’t go out to combat the demons. The only option left to her was the sarpand brothers. They might know where the Maze was, or how to be chosen to go to it. The little information she’d found out about them, the little that she believed, bespoke of their power. It also hinted that the pair were evil, possibly served the Hells. She could only guess the two had fallen out of favor with the devils because they had been imprisoned.

  In the six years since losing her family, she hadn’t been able to find a good death. Seal and Kharick were always there to save her from a mistake, and she wouldn’t endanger them. She’d thought of leaving them, but knew neither one would allow that. Seal because of her prophecy and Kharick because he felt a responsibility for her. If she were chosen for the Maze, it would separate them.

  “We’ll go to Meerwood.”

  “What?” Seal cried.

  “Nothing is in Log Port that I’d hoped. Meerwood is where DraKar is. He’s a powerful mage, from what I read. I can learn from him.”

  “No!” Seal said and waved a finger at Madger. “No, not him.”

  “Why not? They said they would repay me.”

  Seal looked away sullenly, not willing to share her knowledge of the brothers. Her family, her home, depended on secrecy.

  “DraKar? One of the sarpand?” Kharick asked.

  “The blue,” Madger answered.

  “Log Port is only a day away, lass.”

  “There’s no point in going there. I doubt there are any jobs there that will send us toward Meerwood or the Unclaimed Lands,” Madger said.

  “Meerwood is a town?” Morkleb asked. “In the Unclaimed Lands?” That would likely be a place where Thesda’s proselytizers hadn’t reached.

  “A town of darklings and sarpand. Raiders, thieves, and murders,” Seal said in a low tone. “There won’t be any work there either.”

  “As mercenaries?” Morkleb guessed. Everything she listed sounded like the sort of people he should be trying to reach, to turn them away from their dark deeds and take up with Thesda. Deep waters indeed, Master.

  “Aye, lad,” Kharick said.

  Morkleb’s ears pricked forward. “I’ll hire you.”

  “Oh Infinite.” Seal sighed and ran a hand down her face.

  “How much? A gold crown? Two?” Morkleb dug into the coin purse Len had given him and held up the coins.

  Seal’s eyes brightened at the sight. “Two.” She snatched the money from his hand. “Hired!”

  Morkleb winced, realizing he’d given too much. He shouldn’t have thought of it like what his mother would charge for long voyages. It was done now.

  Kharick chuckled and said, “To Meerwood then.” He took a long drink from his flagon and passed it to Morkleb.

  Morkleb took a drink and gagged. He should have known better than to drink a dwarf’s ale.

  Chapter 21

  315 Br. fall

  “Souls are real. Auras are the evidence of souls. The source of souls is the question. Gods do not create them. They do not disappear when our bodies fail and turn to dust. The Heavens and Hells with the gods and devils take them in. What makes souls special? Why do gods and devils covet them?”

  Questioning Belief – Doren the Bold

  F or a month they headed west across the countryside of Brenack. Following old rutted roads that were little more than wagon paths. They cut through the southern edge of the immense redwood forest and stopped at one of the logging camps for the night and bought more supplies. The leaves of the soft, shaggy barked trees were turning brilliant colors for the fall, oranges, reds, and yellows made an ostentatious ceiling and carpet on the ground. The roads ended there, and became little more than a mud tracks afterward. The men at the logging camp told them that Brenack’s soldiers used it to go out to the border, almost no one lived that close to the Unclaimed Lands. Once beyond the camp, they passed no one else.

  Morkleb ached to fly, but the heavy press of trees made getting into the air impossible. He was relegated to walking, and after a week of sore feet, he started to toughen up to the travel. They rarely spoke during the day, which suited Morkleb, he didn’t know what to say to them. He’d spent the first few days trying to tell them about Thesda, but none were swayed. Madger and Seal had their own beliefs and Kharick simply ignored much of what he said regarding Thesda. He quieted after that, Thesda didn’t want coerced followers.

  Seal stopped at a T intersection, their path ending abruptly and the perpendicular one the only other trail. “The border guards’ route. I doubt we’ll have much of a trail to follow until we get closer to Meerwood.”

  “What sort of town doesn’t have a road to it?” Morkleb asked.

  “The sort that doesn’t deal with common folk,” Kharick answered. “The Unclaimed Lands don’t have regular traffic.”

  “How do you know where you’re going then?”

  Seal pointed to the southwest. “You see that stand of dark trees?”

  Morkleb had to squint, the trees were near the horizon, and the land was low and flat. The path they’d been following had broken through the southern edge of the redwood forest the day before. Now there was just scrub grassland around them.

  “That’s the swamp, Meerwood is in the middle,” Seal said.

  “You’ve been there before?”

  “No, but the sarpand said it was in a
swamp in the northeast corner of the Unclaimed Lands. I don’t think there are many other swamps near here.” She turned and looked at Madger and Morkleb, “We can still go back.”

  Madger shook her head. “Walk on, Seal.”

  Their first night in the Unclaimed Lands didn’t strike Morkleb as being much different than being in Brenack. Still, he felt uneasy at leaving the country behind that had been his home for the last five years.

  “Where are the three of you from?” Morkleb asked as they all settled down to eat in the waning light.

  “The Krad Mountains,” Kharick answered.

  “Just north of Log Port? Where the mines are?”

  “Aye.”

  “Do you ever go back?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Seal and Madger looked to Kharick at that question, he’d never answered them, and they waited to see how he would respond to the young cleric.

  “Enough of that.” It was the answer they expected.

  Morkleb’s ears sagged, he was terrible at talking to people about anything but Thesda.

  “Your family has two ships?” Seal asked after seeing Morkleb’s dejection.

  Morkleb smiled and touched at the twin chains in his right ear. “Yes. My mother captains Nightbane and my uncle captains The Chained Maiden.” At their questioning looks he shrugged, “Mother said it was the only woman he would ever get.”

  Seal laughed. “Only a sister would do that to her brother.” The thought made a sharp pang in her belly, she missed her family, but she didn’t let the discomfort show.

  Even Madger smiled at the jest but quickly grew somber and even more withdrawn afterward.

  “What about you?” Morkleb asked. “Where are you from? I’ve never seen anyone with white hair but the elderly, and you don’t strike me as old.”

  Seal smirked at him. “I’m young at heart. I doubt you’ve heard of where I’m from, it’s far away.”

  Morkleb accepted that, he had never been much of a navigator on the Nightbane. He turned to Madger, “And you? I’d read mountain giants don’t come down from the mountains often.”