Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)

by Hans Cummings

  After they finished uncluttering and cleaning the sleeping chambers, Kale and Kali worked on the rest of the living quarters: the privy, bathing room, and hearth room. Of the furniture they found within the building, they were able to salvage only a copper bathing vessel, one chair, which they cobbled together from three different broken chairs, and the display shelves in the storefront. Kale avoided the bookcases in the stairway leading to the runed circle altogether. After showing the secret area to Kali, he locked the door. He needed neither the distraction of all the books, nor did he trust himself not to search every nook and cranny down there in search of forgotten trinkets.

  They cleaned for a few more hours. The bathing vessel’s patina would require some sort of solvent and elbow grease to remove it. Kali wasn’t sure removing the verdigris was strictly necessary.

  “It doesn’t matter. We don’t have any way of bringing hot water in there right now anyway.” Kale tossed his brush into the tub with a clang.

  Kali pointed at the bathing vessel. “You breathe fire. We can start with cold water.”

  “Good point.” Kale craned his neck to look toward the front of the shop. The deep shadows revealed the sun was now high in the sky, casting this portion of the undercity into darkness.

  Kale realized he lost track of time. “I’m hungry.”

  The very mention of food sent his stomach into knots. Kali nodded her assent, and they dusted themselves off. As Kale strapped on his harness and pouches, he heard someone knocking at their door.

  A round young man stood at the door, crouching to peer through the drak-sized portal. He flipped back his hood and raised his hand in greeting. “Hello. I’m Clerk Hadeon. I have papers for you.”

  Kali waved him in. “The ceiling’s high enough, I think.”

  He squeezed through the door. The top of his head was just shy of the ceiling, and he crouched to avoid one of the hanging lights. He reached into his bag and pulled out several scrolls.

  “I have deeds and money for you.”

  “Money?” Kale glanced up from the deed he examined. There were two copies: one for him and Kali and one which was to remain in the Hall of Records. “What money?”

  “Oh, Magistrate Yulian said the gem you paid with was too much money. He sent the remainder with me.” The clerk fished in his pouch and tossed a fat sack filled with coins on the counter.

  Kale smirked at his mate as he dumped the money onto the counter. She responded by pursing her lips and grabbing one of the papers from the clerk.

  Hadeon glanced around the room as Kale and Kali filled out the deeds. “Old family place?”

  “No, we just needed a place to call home, and this seemed as good as any.” Kale sensed the young man was just making friendly conversation, but he didn’t want to reveal any of the secrets he’d found.

  “No one will bother you down here. Are you going to open a shop?” He ran his finger along the dusty counter, leaving a clean streak in the wood.

  Kale rolled up the one of deed and handed it to Hadeon. “I haven’t decided yet. We might. It depends on my sister. She’s at the Arcane University.”

  “Oh. I always wanted to be a wizard. Never got the hang of it. Does she have wings, too? I’ve never seen a winged drak before.” He unrolled the deed and examined it before nodding and returning it to his bag.

  “No, this was…” Kale wasn’t sure how to describe his wings. He decided to lie. “A wizard did it. It was an accident. I’ve found them too useful to get rid of, you know?”

  “Wow, yeah. It’d be great to be able to fly.” He closed up his pack and offered Kale his hand. “Everything looks in order. You even look like you’ve been cleaning, so I’ll tell them you’re keeping good on your promise.”

  Kale shook the young man’s hand. “You’re the inspector, too? Will you be coming back?”

  “Maybe in a few weeks, if they don’t forget. They usually forget.” He cursed as he hit his head on the doorframe. “Good day to you. Hon’s blessing to your home and hearth!” Hadeon rubbed the top of his head as he walked away.

  Kale looked at Kali as his mate took his arm. He held up the sack of money before putting it in his pouch. “See? They didn’t keep the change.”

  Kali chewed her lip and nodded. “Well, I guess it’s really ours now, huh?”

  “Our first home!”

  Chapter 14

  Processing Gisella’s revelation took Pancras a moment. “You’re the granddaughter of the Lich Queen?”

  “Yes, my sister and me.” Gisella glanced behind her, presumably for Edric and Qaliah. They stood alongside the horses, talking while periodically glancing toward Gisella and Pancras to ensure the pair weren’t eavesdropping.

  “Are you both Aurora’s faithful?” Pancras was curious how, exactly, the goddess of beauty and love played into events.

  “No. Alysha is devoted to Selene. She’s a proper sorceress.” Gisella removed her helmet and flipped matted hair out of her eyes. “That’s why she’s deep in the Southern Watch. She’s far from where the Lich Queen is thought to return.”

  Pancras thought back to what he learned of resurrection. If that was the method by which the Lich Queen attempted her return, a bit of her body would be required to accomplish the task: a bone, a bit of flesh, or a lock of hair. He was sure it could not be accomplished with the body of a descendant either living or deceased. Unless the issue had been born of incest, there would be too many other influences from other bloodlines.

  “Were your parents siblings?”

  “What? No.” Gisella’s curled lips and furrowed brow conveyed her irritation. “What has that to do with anything?”

  “I’m trying to determine what her plan is, exactly.”

  Gisella put one hand on his chest and grabbed his snout with her other, pulling his head down. Pancras jumped back, but she maintained her grip. “Be still!”

  He complied with her order, his nose in her face until she released him and stepped away. Pancras rubbed his snout and followed after her.

  “I needed to be sure you were, in fact, alive. I don’t know what is going on, and I don’t like it.”

  “I understand.” The first time Pancras returned from the dead, he feared he might have returned as one of the many undead abominations he so fervently fought against. As far as he could ascertain, he was alive. Gisella secured her helmet on Moonsilver’s saddle. “As much as I would like to leave this place, we should at least give the soldiers their due. We’ll make two pyres: one for the cultists and one for the soldiers and other workers from the keep. They will have peace in death.”

  “I’m not touching those rotters!” Edric grabbed Yaffa’s reins and led his pony away from the group.

  “Never figured him for squeamish.” Qaliah looked Pancras over. “So what are you now, some kind of zombie? A vampire? Are we going to have to put you down?”

  Pancras held up his hands and chuckled. “I understand your suspicion. I am quite alive. She checked.”

  “It’s true. He’s breathing, he’s warm, and his heart beats.” Gisella pulled a spare blanket out of her saddlebags and threw it at Pancras. “Use this for gathering parts. We’ll start with the soldiers.”

  Pancras didn’t like working with the rotting dead. Especially those who died violently. It was messy, and he never became accustomed to the stench.

  “I’d give my withered hand for some skellies to do this clean-up for us.” He removed his belt, pulled off his robes, and laid them over Stormheart’s saddle. He refastened his belt along with his rod and pouches over his loin cloth.

  The fiendling pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. “Such a display. I may faint from this shameless show of minotaur flesh.”

  “Get your clothes bloody if you want. I paid too much for those robes to have them covered in viscera for the next several months.” Pancras took the blanket and returned to the courtyard. It was a little chilly to be outside without clothing, even for a minotaur, but he hoped the physical labor w
ould keep him warm.

  As he left the two women behind, he heard Qaliah laugh. “You know, the dead guy has a point!”

  * * *

  Edric’s casual acceptance of Pancras’s death and apparent resurrection piqued Gisella’s curiosity. In her world, such an event was not only unheard of, but also would be considered either a miracle or an abomination. She pondered in what sort of world the dwarf lived where such an occurrence barely rated a wry quip. She was glad Pancras enlisted Qaliah to gather the bodies of the dead soldiers.

  She grabbed Yaffa’s reins. “If you’re going to travel with us, you’re going to help. Step down and help me gather wood for the pyres.”

  Edric sighed and dismounted his pony. “Maybe I don’t want to travel with you anymore. I’m getting tired of this necromancer and his undead.”

  Gisella raised an eyebrow but kept her eyes fixed on Yaffa. “Why are you traveling with him, anyway? And what did you mean when you said him returning from death was getting to be a habit?” Might as well just put it out there.

  “You heard him. He died back in Almeria. I didn’t see it, but the draks were there. I saw his body when they laid him out in their undercroft. Stone dead.” Edric picked up a branch and then tossed it away when he saw how rotten it was. “At least dwarves have the sense to petrify when we die. You know we’re not coming back from that.”

  Dwarven death rites were foreign to Gisella. She figured Edric must have exaggerated to some extent. “Again, why are you traveling with him?”

  “It’s a long story I don’t care to tell again. I am for now, but I’m not obligated to keep on.” He kicked a stick in the direction he stepped and dropped all the wood he’d gathered so far on top of it. “There’s a wood pile behind the forge. I don’t think there’s going to be enough wood for a decent pyre, though.”

  Gisella spied a wood axe leaning against the forge. “I’ll cut the stables apart. Keep gathering as much wood as you can. Bring furniture from the barracks and keep if you have to.” She decided to let Edric’s motivations lie. If he was in no way bound to the minotaur’s service, she wouldn’t stop him from leaving.

  It took several hours to disassemble the stables with the wood axe. She had no choice but to allow the structure to collapse on top of the horse carcasses within, as she had no means of removing them. While Gisella labored, Pancras and Qaliah gathered all the bodies, including the dismembered corpses lining the road leading to the keep, and then they helped Edric break down the furniture and build pyres using it and the wood Gisella provided.

  The sun hung low in the sky by the time they completed their tasks, and the first stars of night shone bright. Gisella knelt before the pyre for the soldiers and lit a torch.

  “Does anyone have anything to say?”

  Edric shook his head, and Qaliah shrugged.

  Pancras cleared his throat. “We commend these unfortunate souls to Aita’s realm. May they find peace there.”

  “Indeed.” Gisella lit the pyre. Flames spread like spilled water, licking at the bottom logs before catching the tinder and kindling piled in the middle. She stepped back as roaring flames climbed up the pyre and reached into the sky. Black smoke rolled off the pyre as though even the fire struggled to cleanse the bodies of the evil that had possessed them.

  She tossed the torch onto the smaller pyre they made for the cultists. “Maris take you all.”

  The fires burned long into the night. The four of them made camp outside the walls of the keep, upwind from the choking stench of burning flesh, somber and quiet as they pondered the events of the day. Crickets serenaded them to sleep under the light of the King and Queen.

  * * *

  “What do you mean: ‘they’re not here’?” Delilah surveyed The Granite Anvil’s common room, as though her eyes might catch the innkeeper in a lie. “Where did they go?”

  “I’m not their keeper. They left. Took everything with them.”

  “What about my stuff? I had a room here, too!” Delilah fought to keep her heart out of her throat. She never let the pack with her grimoire and lexicon out of sight, but there were a few other trinkets of sentimental value she’d brought from Drak-Anor.

  “I checked. Cleaned out. Looks like they nicked your stuff. Want another room?”

  Delilah screeched and threw up her hands. “You’re useless!” She turned to Katka and Conner. “My brother ditched me! I can’t believe it.”

  Conner pursed his lips. “Maybe he changed inns. There’s places in the undercity run by draks. Probably cheaper, too.”

  The thought had occurred to Delilah, but she didn’t have enough free time visit every inn in the undercity and inquire if they’d seen her brother. That would take days, if not a week or more.

  “What does he look like? You said he has stripes, right?” Katka tapped Delilah’s shoulder to gain the drak’s attention.

  Delilah nodded. “And wings.”

  “I’ve lived here all my life, and you’re the first striped drak I’ve seen. I’ve never seen one with wings. If he went into the undercity, someone is bound to have seen him.”

  The girl had a point. Delilah squeezed the top of her snout and rubbed her eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Of course Kale will be easy to find. Who else is striped with wings? It’s his mate who would be lost in the crowd. Delilah strapped on her pack. It was filled to the point of bursting since she stuffed her robe into it. Now that she had some free time to roam the city, she didn’t want to wear her robes. Conner and Katka both wore the grey of novices, and Katka stopped in front of every darkened window to admire the grey robe Delilah purchased for her.

  The two humans led Delilah into the undercity. Merchants hawked their wares, and couriers rushed by, arms laded with deliveries and messages. Draks in the street were immediately drawn to Delilah.

  “Another striped drak!”

  “Red and black here to deliver us!”

  “I’m crimson and ebony!” Delilah stomped her foot as she shouted at the ignorant, colorblind drak. “Where’s the other drak you saw?”

  “You can lead us!”

  “We must show the humans and minotaurs we’re not vermin!”

  “Save us! Save us!”

  “Hey! I don’t think you’re vermin!” A lone minotaur loomed above the crowd. “Don’t I give you good prices on my potatoes?”

  Katka took Delilah’s hand. “They’re going to mob us. We have to move.”

  Another plan entered Delilah’s mind. She climbed up on the railing and focused on not to looking down into the chasm. She raised her arms, and azure wisps formed at the top of her staff.

  “Fos.” Her staff burst into light. “Hear me, draks of the undercity!”

  “Delilah! What are you doing?” Conner spun and looked at her, his eyes wide in alarm.

  “We hear you!”

  “Enlighten us!”

  “Not again!” The minotaur hunched his shoulders and pushed his cart away as fast he was able without bowling over the draks rushing to crowd around Delilah.

  “Behold!” Delilah swung her staff in an arc above her head. “A Child of Destiny is amongst you. You shall all have my blessing—”

  “Yes, bless us!”

  “We are your faithful servants!”

  “Can you heal my scale itch?”

  “Tell me where I can find the striped drak with wings. Then you may all go with my blessing!” Delilah wagered her words would sway them.

  “You’re mad, Delilah!” Katka pulled on Delilah’s sleeve.

  “Down! Down!”

  “He vanished at the Shadowbridge!”

  “Evil is there! A shop of curses and woe!”

  “Woe! Woe!”

  Delilah fought to keep dismay from eclipsing her toothy, forced smile. “Go! Go, all of you, with the blessing of Rannos, Hon, and Adranus! May Aurora’s love fill your hearts as you go be fruitful. Tinian’s ever-watchful eye watch over you… in the winter… the light of Apellon warm you in the summer.”
Delilah’s ad-libs were far from authentic, but they sounded good to her ears.

  Apparently, the draks in the crowd agreed. They cheered for Delilah and parted, bowing and uttering blessings and thanks as she waded through them. She nodded and waved, gesturing for Conner and Katka to follow her.

  At the bottom of the stairs leading to the next level of the undercity, Delilah lowered her arm and let her false smile drop. “I can’t believe that worked.”

  Conner crossed his arms and frowned. “You’re lucky they didn’t tear you apart.”

  “Nah. They think because I was born with stripes, I have a special destiny. They wouldn’t dare. I can only imagine what they thought of Kale walking through here with stripes and wings.” Delilah giggled. “He probably has an army of them waiting on him hand and foot.”

  Katka shook her head. “This is unbelievable. Is it like this where you’re from, too?”

  “No. They wouldn’t lift a claw to help us if we were drowning.” Delilah noticed their confused looks. “Long story. Do you know where this Shadowbridge is? Or this cursed store?”

  Conner led the way. “I don’t know anything about a cursed store, but the Shadowbridge is this way. It’s the deepest bridge and never gets sunlight. Most of the shops down there closed years ago. It’s not cursed, as far as I know, just… abandoned.”

  Connor’s hypothesis sounded more likely to Delilah than a shop of curses and woe. Most cities had areas that fell into disrepair now and again, lying in wait for someone to come along and renovate. Each time they encountered draks, they required Delilah gave a “blessing” before they would leave them be. She confirmed from a couple who were particularly persistent that Kale was seen entering a street near the Shadowbridge, and the only buildings there were abandoned shops, warehouses, and evil omens.

  The street didn’t appear abandoned to Delilah. There was a handful of draks crowded around outside of a shop, peering in through windows so filthy they may as well have been staring at a brick wall.