by Jak Koke
She stayed at Tri’um for several days before she grew restless for adventure. Celagri traveled constantly and called no place home. Her entire household consisted of nothing more than what she could carry on her back, and she liked it that way. No family or possessions. She was a vagrant and proud of it. Student of the world.
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She had been on her own since she was ten years old. She had never known her mother, and her father had raised her on his own until he was killed by Terrica, the windling who served as Garlthik One-Eye’s enforcer in Kratas. Celagri had hated the windling ever since.
The corrupted blood elf Vistrosh, Garlthik’s rival, had given Celagri a home for awhile. But his thorns repulsed her, and she had escaped Kratas at her first opportunity. Trying to steal the gem from Pabl’s finger was one of the stupidest and luckiest things she had ever done. No one besides Pabl had ever given her so much trust.
Now she bade farewell to her hosts at Tri’um, thank-ing them for their hospitality and walking out into the jungle, headed in the general direction of Rabneth. Jan and Pabl should be returning soon and she wanted to know how they had fared.
The jungle air hung heavy and still, but cool in the early afternoon. She stepped lightly along the narrow path that wound its way along the west side of the tepuis. To amuse herself, she dared herself to move as quickly as possible without making a sound. It took concentration, willpower — and though she could use her thief magic to help her, she did not, saving that for situations of real danger.
Rough voices drifted to her from in the jungle off to the left.
Villagers? Elves? No, the language was vulgar. Not elven certainly, not even dwarven.
As the voices grew closer, Celagri used magic to gather the jungle shadows around her. Then she recognized the language, though she hadn’t heard it since she’d left the streets of Kratas. Orkish.
“We need as many of these white capped ones as you can gather. And don’t you be puttin in any o’ the brown ruffly ones.
Those’re poison and you’ll be sorry for it later.”
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Celagri gathered the dark cloak of her magic close and quickly approached the voices. The magic softened her steps, thickened the tree shadows to hide her. The evening sky through the jungle canopy was a uniform gray with low clouds so shadows were scarce, but hiding was not difficult for Celagri, and soon she found herself watching four orks gathering mushrooms.
The one shouting instructions was a woman, huge and ugly. She wore a meat-stained apron over her expanse of a gut, and she could barely move three or four steps before panting from the exertion. The other three were youths from the look of it, one girl and two boys, though it was hard for Celagri to be sure. They all wore jerkins of ox leather and carried axes.
This isn’t a local family, must be part of a scorcher tribe.
What would these sorts be doing out in the middle of the jungle?
Celagri decided to stick around and find out. She sank further into the undergrowth and waited.
“I never seen such lazy workers,” the big one said. “Dig, if you want a good meal at dinner.”
“Haven’t had a good one in days,” said one of the boys.
“What was that? I know your mother. Watch your mouth, if’n you want to eat anything ’sides your own tongue.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”
From the girl: “Shut up, Tulg.”
Tulg gave an angry glance in the girl’s direction, but he didn’t say anything. The other boy chuckled slightly under his breath.
The girl faced the fat one. “Sarahem, how much more of this do we have to do?”
“’Till we’s done, Grabina. Just another basket full o’the shrooms, then we find some banana and maybe some constance fruit.”
Suddenly, Tulg jumped up and screamed, batting at his This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
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arms. “Get them off me! Get them off!” He pulled back the sleeves of his shirt to reveal skin covered with giant black ants. He waved his arms wildly, trying to shake off the ants.
“Raggok take all of you. They sting!” He brushed at himself frantically.
Grabina tried to calm him. “We’ve got ointment for that, Tulg. Bought in the village. Here.” She reached into her pouch and pulled out a balm bag to give him.
Tulg rubbed it on his arms and legs, head and neck. All over.
“Don’t have to bathe in the stuff.”
“You’re not the one who got stung.”
The other boy’s chuckle grew to an outright belly laugh.
“Shut up, Vergon.”
Celagri watched this go on for nearly an hour before they had found enough mushrooms and decided to go off in search of bananas. In that time, she discovered that they were part of a larger encampment nearby. Much larger.
But what are they doing here?
After a short stop to gather bananas and constance fruit, the orks led her back to their encampment, hidden in a depression up against the west cliff wall of the tepuis. The sky had grown dark by the time Celagri had climbed partway up the side of the mesa to get a look at the camp. She leaned her back against the rock and dangled her legs over the rim of the ledge while eating some of the bread and cheese that the Tri’um elves had given her.
The camp below was huge. Three big tents, one of them green, filled most of the space, but there were several dozen smaller ones here and there. The natural clearing had been recently widened and deepened by clear-cutting the trees. A pen had been built near one edge, holding pigs and oxen — presumably to feed the masses of orks and the few dwarfs she could see. About halfway around the perimeter was a corral This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
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of sorts, but this one held huge riding animals with reptilian gray skin and horns protruding along the curve of their spines.
Thundra beasts.
Jaspree help me! What is going on here?
Just then, a big ork appeared at the far end of the camp, running rapidly. His hair flew out behind him as he headed straight for one of the smaller tents. He called out shrilly, releasing a piercing whistle.
From above came a screeching reply as three miniature dragons, all shimmering blue, dove out of the sky toward him. No, they weren’t dragons. Espagra. They looked like giant, winged versions of their iguana cousins, with vermilion mouths and rows of sharp teeth. Their brilliant blue scales glimmered hypnotically as they flew down to join the ork beastmaster, screeching some sort of greeting.
Celagri drew back into the concealment of the rock. It wouldn’t do for one of those beasts to spy her. She knew about espagra, though she had never seen them so close. They were everywhere across Barsaive, at least everywhere Celagri had been, which covered a lot of territory. Indiscriminate preda-tors. Celagri had often seen them in packs of three or four. Everything was potential prey. She’d even heard stories of them ganging up on a Troll drakkar and flying off with two of the sailors. When she was sure the beasts hadn’t seen her, she peered down at the camp again.
The darkness was coming too quickly. She could only make out a few details. Next to the ork beastmaster stood a dwarf shouting instructions to some people inside the green tent. And as he did so, Celagri caught flashes of red and blue light glimmering through the seams and gaps in the canvas fabric.
What in Raggok’s name are they doing?
Then something emerged. It looked to Celagri like a huge obsidiman — a rock creature of immense size. An earth ele-This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
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mental, has to be. The elemental held something in its arms — a large black slug-like being whose skin glowed a deep red through cracks. As the elemental turned, Celagri saw the slug’s mouth — a gaping maw of scoop-shaped teeth in front of a gut that roared red with fire.
A chill dripped down Celagri’s back. What is that?
Another elemental emerged from the tent, and a third, both carrying the huge slug creatures. The ork and the dwarf led the way out of the camp, while the magicians ordered the elementals to follow.
They did, slowly, methodically. Behind them followed a number of workers, mostly dwarfs, carrying tools — picks and shovels and baskets.
Celagri followed too. She had to see what was going to happen, though she knew it was bad. Very bad.
The dwarf and the ork led the party up a small trail which ended at the sheer cliff. The dwarf lifted a glowing crystal lantern and examined the rock, running his hands over the stone gently and carefully. He removed a scroll case from his cloak and examined the parchment within for a minute. Then he removed a piece of chalk from his pouch and marked on the stone.
In order to see, Celagri had to get closer than she liked, but the thief magic was strong around her, and the sky had grown dark except for the thin crescent of the moon, partially haloed by high, cottony clouds. She sneaked onto the narrow trail just behind the last worker, and watched.
The fat dwarf with the chalk pointed to the markings he had drawn, speaking to the ork and the magicians in charge of the elementals. He spoke at length with one of the magicians — a dwarf woman who wore the dark robes of a nethermancer — before stepping back out of the way.
The woman spoke a few words and fire erupted from the tail end of the first slug creature. The elemental holding it This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
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moved up to the rock and pressed the thing against the stone.
The giant slug came alive, squirming and writhing in the elemental’s grasp, unable to escape. It spat some kind of acid onto the stone, then bit away a chunk.
Amid the billowing acrid stench and burning smoke, Celagri winced. She thought of Pabl and his brothers. If everything her obsidiman friend had told her of the liferock was true, this must hurt. This must be stopped.
Soon all three elementals stood, side by side, wielding their beasts as they bucked and writhed and tried to escape.
Within an hour, a shallow, wide hole gaped from the rock. The beginnings of a tunnel.
The elementals and the slugs continued to eat away the rock like worms through fruit, working through the night.
And there was nothing Celagri could do to stop them. She slipped into the shadows, hoping Pabl’s kin would arrive soon and put a stop to the digging. And as she ran toward the village, she remembered how Pabl had rescued her from the streets of Kratas.
After she’d tried to steal from him, Pabl had responded with leniency and eventually kindness. And later, when he had learned the details of her indenture, he had been sympa-thetic and had bought out her servitude, then set her free.
Pabl was the only family she had ever known. She had walked away from his friendship once during the search for the castle of Yon Fuiras, but she knew now that she had made a mistake. She would never leave him again; she was prepared to die for him.
This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Chapter Ten
The trip back to Tepuis Garen passed quickly. Pabl and the others arrived after sunset on the second day of traveling. Pabl had been withdrawn and quiet for most of the trip back, trying to concentrate on Jan’s rambling comments about the weather or the politics of Throal, anything to get his mind off of his merge with Ohin Yeenar.
Should I have killed the old brother? Would death have been merciful?
Pabl had no idea; he only knew that he hadn’t had the strength of will to do it. “We will leave you at Rabneth,” he told Jan as they approached the tepuis. “But I’ll return in a few days to let you know what I’m going to do next.”
Jan gave a solemn nod. “I understand, my friend. I will await your return.”
“You will give my excuses to Celagri?”
“You can bet on it,” Jan said. “I’m going to wait for our way-ward companion at Samson’s Inn. I don’t think I’ve imbibed enough of that foul brew yet.”
And a short time later, as they neared the village, Pabl felt the insistent beckoning pull from Ganwetrammus. A quick 77
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glance at Chaiel and Bintr told Pabl that they felt it too. “It is time to say goodbye,” said Pabl, “for now anyway.”
Jan bowed. “If I am drunk when next we meet, it will be for lack of your positive influence.”
Pabl gave his friend a smile, then turned abruptly and headed off through the undergrowth, climbing up toward the cliff face. Bintr and Chaiel followed close behind him, all of them anxious to merge with Ganwetrammus.
The air cooled as the obsidimen climbed the rock, and Pabl welcomed the clean feeling of each breath, refreshing after the dank humidity of the jungle. Visions of his experience with Ohin Yeenar had been haunting Pabl; he had been seeing the ancient in his mind and the periphery of his sight ever since running out of the temple two days before. He was no closer to finding Reid Quo, and he was starting to question his own sanity.
Ganwetrammus will anchor me, Pabl thought. Bring me back to myself.
They were about halfway up the rock when Chaiel stopped on a ledge above Pabl and started to merge. Bintr reached the ledge with Pabl close behind. The evening sky was deep blue, a half circle of high clouds forming an arc around the moon’s thin crescent. The jungle was a black-green mat below as Pabl removed his traveling clothes and let himself fall into the embrace of the liferock.
The spirit of Ganwetrammus welcomed him, and he forgot about the troubling images of Ohin and Reid. He felt the presence of Gvint and Ywerk, Hagnit, Grimchak and Wennith, plus others. All were glad they had returned safely from Othellium. They experienced the memory of his merging with Ohin Yeenar, and they reassured him that he had done the right thing by not killing the ancient one. Death would come to him at her own pace.
Hours passed as Pabl’s knowledge of Reid Quo and Ohin This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
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Yeenar formed in the collective memory of the rock. The brotherhood was jubilant, for it was their only news of the lost Elder. Perhaps it could aid the air elementals in their search.
Soon, however, their jubilance turned to puzzlement, and then panic as they felt pain at the base of the rock.
It began as gentle tingling in the rock below, an annoying tickle at first that worked its way into the consciousness of the merged communion of the Garen Brotherhood. Soon, however, the tingling became a burning, then a sharp jabbing through the rock. Something was attacking the liferock.
The pain grew slowly in Pabl’s mind until he could hardly feel anything else. His sensation of his merged brothers faded until they were lost behind a haze of agony. He emerged from the rock, opening his eyes to the cloudless night sky, thin crescent moon in a field of stars. The pain dissipated immediately, fading to a distant sharpness in the back of his mind as his body detached from the liferock.
The cold night air smelled of smoldering fire. Wind gusted up the side of the cliff, howling as it blasted through the hollows and crevices near the top. The liferock breathed still, though it was injured somewhere down below. Chaiel and Bintr emerged beside him, dressing quickly and scrambling up the rock to the temple.
Others of his brotherhood had emerged and were gathering outside the temple. Gvint spoke to them. “Ganwetrammus is in danger. I sensed a breach in the rock on the west side, near the cove of t
he golden vein. We must not delay. I go to in-vestigate.” Gvint looked at Ywerk. “I ask that one of us remain here, the rest may choose to come along or stay.” Then without hesitation he made his way out of the temple and through the tall stones.
Ywerk sighed, but accepted his role and sat in the entryway.
The night wind blew cold and dry, howling through the This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
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rocks as Pabl moved quickly to the west cliff of the tepuis. In the end, all but three brothers had decided to come along.
Pabl arrived at the cliff edge just behind Tidre Ghi and Gavi Arndt, two older brothers who had chosen to spend the remainder of their lives near Ganwetrammus.
Tidre and Gavi gave each other and Pabl grave looks as they lowered themselves over the side of the cliff and began the descent. They showed Pabl how to climb down, partially merged with the rock to prevent themselves from falling. Pabl knew that such climbing was possible, but he had never mastered it.
Now, he plunged his hands and feet into the rock, struggling to avoid giving into the merge completely. After a few tries, he could do it reasonably well. The cold air grew moist from windblown waterfall spray as Pabl descended. The stone of the cliff face was warm and welcoming, inviting him to release his concentration and enter the Dreaming. But every time he connected with Ganwetrammus, the pain of the wound below shot into him like a spike, forcing him to maintain focus.
A thousand feet they descended, and a thousand more.
Quietly, rapidly, driven by a need to stop the rock’s agony. The jungle floor approached, a mottled gray and black rug in the faint light of the stars. The air thickened around Pabl, and he grew warm from the exertion of the climb. Finally he saw the filament of dull white lights near the bottom, and closer to the rock, yellow and red glowed inside the wound.
A noise came from the hole — the sound of rocks grinding against bone. Outside, a line of dwarfs pushed squeaky-wheeled carts full of rock debris down a path which had been cut into the side of the mesa. Lines of ork sentinels flanked the narrow path from the tunnel entrance down into the jungle. The orks wore scarred animal hides, many with black or brown fur still attached, and helms of bones thatched to-This Book Belongs to: Andrew Tobin (black _ [email protected]) Liferock
