Relaxing her stance, she asked, “Such as?”
Pointing toward the window, he replied, “There is an entire city teeming with activity while we are locked in this asylum studying books written ages ago. Don’t you wish to investigate? Aren’t you curious?”
Flashes from their brief trip through the city surfaced in her head – dwarven men, women, and children, in addition to the strange human men. Something had seemed odd, but with everything else happening, she had put little thought toward the issue.
“Now that you mention it, an evening in the city might be interesting.”
“Wonderful.” He grinned. “Cast an illusion and we will go.”
“Illusion?”
“Yes. The same as last time. That is, unless you prefer the role of Zhialta.”
“No. Jionna is fine.”
She used her magic, again transforming each of them into the likeness of a seer. Jace then led her out the door and to the stairwell. Once on the main floor, he peered into the receiving hall and pulled back, grimacing.
“Hadnoddon is out there, talking to another guard. We will have to get past him. If he says anything, just act snobbish and say, Seer business.”
He took her arm and the two of them crossed the hall, heading directly toward the door beyond Hadnoddon.
The dwarf stopped in mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes as Jace and Narine approached. “Greetings, sisters. What were you doing in the guest quarters at this hour?”
Hesitating for a breath, Narine said in her best princess tone, “Seer business.”
A deep frown twisted the dwarf’s thick, black beard. “What does that mean? And where are you going?”
Grasping for a response, lacking any clever ideas, she replied, “Seer business.”
Narine and Jace slipped past the two dwarfs and outside. They hurried down the steps and along the path between two empty sparring yards. She cast a backward glance, catching a brief glimpse of Hadnoddon watching them from the top of the stairs until a building blocked him from sight. The path wound between two Guardian barracks, then opened to a square. They continued beyond the square and entered a street, dwarfs walking about. At the first alley, Jace yanked Narine inside.
“Change yourself to a dwarf,” he said. “Make me look like one of those silent male workers.”
“I am a bit tall for a dwarf,” she replied in a doubtful tone.
“You have the talent to pull it off.” A friendly smile followed. “I believe in you.”
That alone made her want to kiss him. Instead, she drew in her magic, altered their appearances, and tied off the flows to a trickle, feeding the new images with threads of magic to hold them in place.
Hers was that of a middle-aged female dwarf with dark hair, a deep frown, and a drab, gray dress. He was a dark-haired man with a vacant look and ragged clothing.
When they emerged from the alley, Jace tugged her arm, leading her back toward the temple. While she wished to go the other route, she trusted his instincts. Three steps were all they took before Hadnoddon and the guard appeared, the two of them hurrying down the street. Without casting a second glance at them, the dwarfs rushed past, leaving Narine with Jace and the thumping of her own pulse.
He leaned close and whispered, “When being followed, turn the tables. It will throw them off without letting them know you are aware of the pursuit. They never expect you to come toward them. I have done it numerous times, often with nothing more than a superficial change of clothes. Works every time.” He chuckled. “With your illusion ability, well… It’s just not fair.” He glanced backward and shook his head. “Poor chaps.”
They turned at the square and entered another street two intersections away.
He then pulled her into an alcove. “Drop the illusion.”
“What? Why?”
“This city is unique, and visitors must be rare. I wish to observe their reaction to strangers. Besides…” He grinned. “I desperately prefer to look upon the real you.”
She released the illusion, shook her head, and said, “You are far too smooth for your own good, Mister Landish. Your obvious flattery makes me pause in fear of your intentions.”
He cupped her chin and gave her a kiss. “Your instincts are improving.”
Taking her hand, he led her down the street.
A pair of middle-aged female dwarfs dressed in simple gray dresses passed by, staring at them the entire time. Once beyond them, the women began to whisper to each other, glancing backward again and again until Jace and Narine turned a corner.
He squeezed her hand and stopped to read the sign above a building. “The Cup of Life.” A grin spread across his face, and Narine could tell he was having fun. “Sounds like a taproom.”
A male voice arose from behind them. “Why am I not surprised?”
Narine and Jace spun around with a start.
She gasped. “Salvon?”
With narrowed eyes, Jace watched Salvon open the door, the old man holding it and gesturing inside. It seems we are not all locked away for our own safety, Jace thought, followed by a dozen questions. This seems an ideal opportunity to get some answers.
“Thank you,” Narine said, stepping toward the door until Jace grasped her arm.
“Sorry, but in Adyn’s absence,” Jace said, “I should go first to ensure it is safe.”
She appeared ready to issue a retort, her expression relaxing as she, instead, gave a nod.
He stepped into a deep room lined with stone tables and benches, the space large enough for a hundred patrons. Only five tables were occupied. In the center was a circular bar, a female dwarf standing behind and serving a pair of dwarven guards. The men’s helmets rested on the bar, and each held a dark cup in their hand.
Salvon headed into the room. Narine followed, Jace a step behind. When the old man reached the bar, the bartender greeted him.
“Weaver. You have returned.” The bartender had dark eyes and a round face, her black hair tied back in a braid. “How long has it been?”
“Seven years or so,” Salvon said. “It is good to see you, Arletta.”
Her gaze shifted to Jace, then Narine. “Two more humans. Your guests?”
“Friends,” the old man said. “They are among those staying at the temple.”
The woman nodded. “I heard. Your appearance caused a stir. Outsiders are rare, but a full party of them… That’s just unheard of.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why are the lot of you here?”
Salvon’s grin fell away. “I fear a dark future lies before us, Arletta. More than that, I cannot say.”
She snorted. “Even that is more than you’ll get from the seers. I respect them as much as anyone in Kelmar, but forthrightness is not among their virtues.”
It was Jace’s turn to snort. “Those women twist words into knots a seasoned scholar would be challenged to unravel.”
Smiling with a nod, she replied, “You have the truth of it. What can I do for you?”
With hopeful anticipation, Jace asked, “Do you have ale?”
“What is ale?”
A groan of disappointment slipped out. “I was afraid you might say that.” After all, how could they grow grains inside a mountain?
Stroking his beard, Salvon said, “Perhaps you will enjoy ludicol.”
“Ludicol?”
“Yes. It’s a drink made from fermented leaves of the ludi plant. They serve it warm.”
“Like tea?” Narine asked.
The old man nodded. “Yes. It is much like tea.”
“Tea sounds wonderful,” Narine said, turning to Jace. “Let’s try some.”
Jace had never been a fan of tea, but with ale not an option, his lost enthusiasm was accompanied by a lack of resistance. “Fine. Two of those ludicrous things.”
Salvon laughed. “Ludicol. Make it three, Arletta.”
She nodded. “Very well.”
She turned and approached the fireplace, using a heavy mitt to lift a kettle from it. As the woman poured three cup
s, Jace frowned in thought, his gaze remaining on the fireplace.
“Where does the smoke go?”
Salvon touched a finger to the side of his nose. “Wonderful observation. I asked the same question myself years ago. The chimneys have some sort of magic filter that cleans the smoke from the air. I actually had a worker remove one once so I could see it for myself. It was nothing but a metal ring with the scrawling text of an enchantment on it. How it works, I have no idea.”
Three full cups were set before them. Arletta gave them a nod. “Enjoy. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“How much do we owe you?” Jace asked.
Her brow furrowed. “Owe?”
Salvon patted the woman’s thick hand. “Don’t worry about it. They don’t understand your society.”
Turning from the bar, the storyteller headed toward a quiet corner, his steaming cup in hand. Jace glanced at Narine, who shrugged.
“Let’s sit with him,” he said. “I have questions that require answers.”
She nodded and picked up her cup. “As do I.”
The two of them crossed the room and selected chairs across from the old storyteller. Jace lifted the cup to his nose and sniffed the steaming liquid, his senses greeted by a sweet, spiced aroma. It actually smelled good. He took a sip, the hot liquid burning his tongue and warming his throat as it slipped down. The aftertaste carried the hint of spice he had noted in the aroma.
“Mmm… This is good,” Narine said.
Salvon grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”
Jace set his cup down and eyed the old man. From the moment they had met, Jace had wondered about the source of Salvon’s extensive knowledge. When they arrived at Illustan, it had become apparent there was more to Salvon than a simple storyteller. His close acquaintance with Raskor and his wife was one thing. The reverence the seers and the citizens of Kelmar exhibited toward him was another.
“I have questions, Salvon.”
The old man arched a brow.
“It has been apparent from the start the seers know you.”
“Yes.”
“Is there a story behind it?”
Leaning back, Salvon took a sip of his drink. Jace and Narine mirrored the action, both watching him intently. When he spoke again, he had slipped into his storytelling voice.
“Ten years ago, I had grown ill, a disease of sorts some get as they age. It was as if my body had gone to war with itself, killing me slowly. I had tried more than one wizardess, but the best they could do was slow the advance of this pestilence.
“As someone who has spent a lifetime seeking out history and legends, knowing that the two often blur together, I had heard of the unique magic practiced by the Seers of Kelmar. Also, during my years as court bard for Lord Raskor, I had heard whispers of visits from the seers. Each time, the sister and her protector would head east when leaving Illustan, returning to Paehl Lanor, the lonely mountain.
“It required some research, but I found a map that detailed the region east of Pallanar, depicting a haunted, frozen forest surrounding a single, towering peak. Burdened with the choice between a slow death and a daunting journey into the unknown, I chose the latter.
“I almost died during the journey to Paehl Lanor. In fact, a pair of dwarven scouts found me weakened and lost in the mountain tunnels. They brought me here, the sisters using their magic to try and save my life. However, the disease eating away at me was too complex to heal quickly. In fact, it took three years of slow, methodical care by their most skilled healers to cure my ailment.
“In that time, I grew closer to the sisters, entertaining them with my stories and slowly earning their respect. More importantly, I earned their trust.
“They began to allow me into the library and would include me in their studies, dissecting and analyzing prophecies, weeding out those that had proven false, segregating those most dangerous. You see, when the Oracle works properly and the future is not obscured, new prophecies are recorded all the time. I suspect it is mankind who forces them to do so. As key events take place, critical decisions cause forks that cannot be resolved until they are in the past.”
Jace asked, “You can read the prophecies? Aren’t they written in Hassakani?”
“Yes and no. I can read them, but the language predates Hassakani. Long ago, before the birth of the wizardoms, the language of the more advanced societies was known as Vantath. During a lifetime of chasing history and legend, I learned Vantath. Commini, the language you speak, and Hassakani both derived from Vantath. Think of them as another fork. One straying far from its source, the other much closer to the origin.”
“Vantath,” Jace repeated the word, one he had never before heard.
Narine set her empty cup down. “Ahh… That was delicious. Can we have another?”
Jace arched a brow. “You enjoy it that much?”
“Yes. Please, can you get me a refill?”
“All right.” He stood, the room wavering slightly. “How about you, Salvon?”
The man shook his head. “Not quite yet.”
Jace finished his cup, the hot liquid soothing his throat as he headed toward the bar, wondering if Narine understood the effects of the drink.
19
Enthralled
When Jace stepped away, Narine focused on Salvon. The man was always relaxed, as if he knew more about the world surrounding him than anyone else. She reflected on his mention of the temple library, recalling the book she and Jace had discovered. It certainly had nothing to do with prophecy.
“Salvon,” she asked, drawing his attention. “Do they keep other books in the library? Books that deal with things other than prophecy?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “There are just so many books. Some must cover other subjects.”
He glanced around, as if he had a secret to expose. There was nobody within earshot. The man leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice. “The inner chamber contains the most dangerous works, prophecies leading toward the darkest of outcomes. They keep them hidden so those with nefarious intent cannot manipulate future events into forcing one of those prophecies to come true.”
“This is possible?” The idea fascinated her.
“It is.”
“You have seen these books?”
He smiled. “I have. Near the end of my stay with the seers, I visited the library one evening and found the door ajar. My curious nature would not be denied, so I slipped inside to discover what lay beyond the mysterious door with the exotic lock.
“I spent the entire night in that room, browsing works containing frightening prophecies of death, betrayal, yet each had one common theme. Every one of them contained language surrounding the Dark Lord – Urvadan. However, that is not all I discovered.
“Also stored in that chamber was a small collection of books focused on magic. I will not divulge the contents, but I can only assume those books were hidden from the world for a reason.”
Rather than bringing her a sense of dread, his words increased her curiosity tenfold.
The book Narine and Jace had taken from the library remained in her chamber, never completely leaving her thoughts. Even now, she longed to discover what secrets it might contain. What if the secrets hidden inside are dangerous or destructive? Why was that book not secured in the inner chamber? Those and other questions raced through her mind.
“You two are quiet,” Jace said, setting down two steaming cups before reclaiming his seat. “Speaking of which…” He glanced around the room, now occupied by twice as many dwarfs as when they had arrived. “Why is this place so…odd?”
“What do you mean?” Salvon asked.
“This entire city feels off. What of the human men we saw in the streets? Those who work in the palace? I haven’t heard one speak a single word.”
Salvon nodded. “That is because they have no tongue.”
Narine turned toward him with a start. “No tongue?”
“
Each society has its own peculiarities.” He leaned back and tented his fingers before his chest. “As you might suspect, a secluded city inside a mountain, one ruled by a group of mystics, is more peculiar than most.
“The human men… They are the equivalent of slaves. In some ways, they are more similar to livestock, kept for various purposes, the primary of which is as a stud service.”
“A what?” Jace asked.
Narine’s eyes grew wide. “The seers force the men to bed them in order to get with child?”
Again, the old man nodded. “Those deemed the best mates are used in that capacity until other, better mates rise to replace them. In addition, they function as serving staff, porters, field workers, and anything else requiring hard labor. In this society, the seers are revered and do little, other than cast auguries, study prophecy, and perform healing. The dwarfs are next, the middle class who run the day-to-day life. The best males join the Guardians, who train to defend Kelmar and the seers from outside threats. Hadnoddon is their captain. At the bottom of this society, you will find the Thrall, their term for the human males.”
The concept was so bizarre, Narine struggled to comprehend it. Men blindly bending to the will of these women and dwarfs. They all seem so complacent, almost…mindless. She took a long sip of her drink.
“Yinette’s offer now makes sense,” Jace said.
“Offer?” Salvon asked.
“Yeah.” Jace looked at Narine, hesitating before he answered. “She wanted me to bed her in order to get her with child.”
Narine shot to her feet, her voice rising an octave. “She what?”
“Will you calm down?” He stood and gently pushed her back into her seat.
She glanced around and saw numerous patrons staring in her direction. “You had better explain yourself.”
“It was right after we arrived. She undressed and–”
“She was naked?” Narine thought of Yinette’s tall, lean frame, and jealousy rose up like an ugly monster, prepared to consumer her.
He pressed his lips together. “Are you going to listen?”
A retort stopped just shy of her lips. With effort, she sat back, her arms crossed over her chest. “Fine. I’ll be quiet.”
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