Chapter 26

The sun cut through the crowd of clouds like a ship through foamy spume and met them above Windy Cove before high-day. Chayse stopped wondering how they made such good time without tiring, although he had watched Marley crumble a clay circle and blow it into the wind. Whatever the reason, it was good to be nearing their destination with daylight to spare and the promise of a bunk for the night.

Chayse turned as Mek came up behind him, placing his large hand on Chayse’s shoulder. He knew Marley and the dragonkin thought he and Mek communicated with some sort of mind-speech. And perhaps, he thought, over the years, their ability to read each other along with their subtle sign language was a sort of mind talk.

With a few gestures, Mek told Chayse he wanted to slip into the town to survey the route and make sure it was passable.

“Mek wants to do a quick sweep along the route to the bay,” Chayse said as they stood beneath the pines, surveying the trail into town.

“We don’t know what we will find down there, so have a care. If something happens,” Marley said, squinting up at the half-giant, “follow the bay south. The cove, where Hefldeep keeps her sloop, lays tucked away past the first bluff once you have left the town proper. We can use the cove as our meeting place if… something happens.”

Mek nodded to Marley and took off at a lope down the hill and onto the merchant road. Thysl came up beside Chayse and Marley and said, “A bolt hole near here leads to one of the network tunnels.”

“Would I be too tall to travel through them?”

Thysl looked their new ally up and down. “You look to be Al’far of some sort. In a few years you may need to stoop and bend a bit in these outer tunnels, but this day I believe you will slide through by a hair or two.”

Chayse found he had to stoop and bend to move through the outer tunnel, but it soon opened into a supply room. The three dragonkin quickly rummaged through the chests and cupboards, handing anything small and portable they thought might be useful to him.

Soon, with hands full, he asked, “What am I to do with these? What if I needed to draw my sword?”

“Put them in your packs, you ninny,” Glyf said. “We replenished ours last night.”

Chayse nodded dully, thinking that for such a small maiden she had a way of putting you in your place. Obediently, he loaded the bundles into his pack and scurried to catch up with the three as they disappeared around a turn in the tunnel. He glanced back to see Marley bring up the rear at a comfortable stride that ate up the distance with extraordinary dependability for such a slow walk.

They stayed in the old abandoned tunnels, hoping to sidestep the decomposing ruins that fouled the key passages and caverns of Windy Cove. Chayse covered his mouth and nose and quickened his stride as they crossed the last community cavern. There were more bodies here, but not as many as he thought there would be.

“You are saying the Tavir-weavers from the Academy did this?” He asked as they passed into the open courtyard at the front of the cavern.

“Aye,” Marley said with a sigh. “The dead are the dragonkin who escaped the sleep fog and resisted capture.”

“Why do they want the dragonkin? Where are they taking them?”

“That is one thing we are going to find out. Hopefully, we will find and free the elementals along with the al’far that have gone missing.”

Chayse frowned. He hadn’t heard about the missing al’far. Although sorely tempted to ask what one had to do with the other, he decided to wait. After all, he thought, it was like Fayln always said; today’s troubles were enough for one day, without inviting tomorrow’s in for supper.

He glanced around and said instead, “Niun said Tavir couldn’t be used to kill.”

“But a falling rock knocked loose by Tavir can kill as can a sword without the help of Tavir, in the slightest. Mark my words, just because these humans used Tavir does not mean they are not versed in the more straightforward arts of destruction.” With a stoic face, Marley scanned the courtyard for movement. “We are too exposed here. We need to find cover.”

The three of Dragonkin looked haunted by memories. Chayse was glad he did not share. But he knew how it felt to lose those he loved. Ignoring Marley’s words, he stabbed his sword into the sandy soil and went to one knee before the three dragonkin, his eyes filled with passion and expectancy. “I pledge my sword gladly to avenge those who died here.”

Before one of them could answer, Marley yelled, “Hit the ground, now!”

Chayse felt rather than saw the arrow fly past his cheek. He tucked into a roll, came up, yanking his sword out of the ground and diving for what little cover there was amongst the statuary and mangled greenery. Another arrow thunked into the ground. He stumbled against a low wall and into a smashed statue of some elaborate sea serpent.

A jagged edge of masonry gouged a hunk of flesh from his thigh. With a muffled curse, he crouched low behind the shattered statue. He glimpsed Marley on the far side of the courtyard, but a glimpse was all. For it seemed, he was there one moment and the next, gone.

There was no sign of the dragonkin, and Mek still scouted the bay. As he searched for a way over to Marley, it occurred to him that the dragonkin probably took the Paths. And he wondered why the Kith, living in Windy Cove, didn’t simply take to the Dragon Paths when the city came under attack.

Once again, he poked his head out from behind the masonry and another arrow sang past his head; having no better luck than the first two. Unable to pinpoint the archer’s placement, he decided they weren’t trying to kill him, so much as to keep him trapped. His pack, bow, and quiver lay in the courtyard, where the first arrow sent him scurrying.

He winced, wishing he grabbed the longbow and quiver along with the sword. How could he have been such a fool, he scolded himself. “A fine warrior and ally, they must think me,” he mumbled.

Then, with a deep breath, he popped up, vaulted over the wall. Everything tacked into sharp focus. The sun glinting through the trees, the sharp tang of the ocean atop the ever-present odor of putrefied decay.

The sandy ground of the plaza shifted slightly under his boot as he sidestepped and darted toward his bow and pack. He snagged them with one hand, staggering his trajectory towards Marley’s last location. Arrows thud into the surrounding ground as he zigzagged across the courtyard.

A high-pitched whistle brought his tucked head up. He swiveled to the left, following the sound to find Marley’s head peeking from behind a thicket of dense flowering shrubbery and broken statuary.

“You make a lovely daffodil,” Chayse huffed as he hunkered down next to his new ally.

“Humph, oh really! I always thought of myself as more of a bleeding heart.”

Chayse snorted. “Oh indeed, I can see that now, the fragile demeanor and giving spirit are a dead give-away. Please, just don’t do any bleeding today.”

“Done deal, looks like you have the bleeding taken care of already.” Marley pointed to Chayse’s bloody thigh.

Chayse shrugged. “The statue had better aim than these archers. Are the dragonkin all right?”

“Aye, they took to the Paths, I would guess to find Mek. We’ll meet at the boat, the Fates willing.” Marley peeked out again, scanning for their elusive assailants and asked, “How many have you seen?”

“I have seen no one, only their arrows. I grabbed one of those. Perhaps it will give us clues to the who.” He handed the arrow over to Marley.

Marley’s brow arched as he took the proffered arrow. “Indeed,” he drawled, shifting positions to expose a small pile of arrows stacked next to his pack. “Mayhap it will be more forthcoming than these,” he said as another arrow whizzed over their heads to lodge in an ironwood fir behind them.

The following one had a little better aim and cut through the hood of the runesmith’s cloak, its point tangling in the cloth. Marley reached into his rune pouch and, with a growl in his throat, he held a red clay disk above his head. It crumbled in his hand as he spoke a series of words in a sonorous tone and released the particles. A sudden wind caught the dust before it fell, carrying the clay particles up and away from where they crouched.

“What did you do?” Chayse asked, stretching his neck up and to the side to see what happened from behind their screen of brush and stone.

“Shush, just watch. Oh, and unstring your bow and stow the string or you will probably lose it.”

The clay dust expanded and coalesced. It flowed across the courtyard, now an opaque fog laced with traces of rose clay. Within moments, it rolled down the main road leading to the bay. The rose tracings turned into flashes of lightning as the cloud continued to build, rising to blot out the midday sun. As the cloud lifted again, revealing the plaza and the surrounding area, Chayse gaped at what he saw.

Their positions exposed, three rsakmorg archers, big enough to give Mek a run for his money and marked with a rosy glow, found themselves unable to continue their assault. Chayse watched the strings on their polished bone bows crumble to dust. They barked a handful of words, or what Chayse assumed were words in a language he didn’t recognize.

Within moments, a handful of nilmorg closed in with the archers, and the pink glow quickly spread to them. Thunder rumbled from one side of the bay to the other as rose-hued lightning split the belly of the clouds, releasing a downpour of rain. Then, like a many-fingered claw, made of stardust and Tavir, it slashed at their assailants as if drawn to the rosy glow surrounding them.

Chayse blinked the rain out of his eyes, scanned the courtyard once more and turned to Marley. The runesmith no longer crouched but stood staring at the open ground, a somewhat dumbfounded look on his face.

“I take it that rune had unforeseen results,” Chayse said warily. He looked up at the sky, letting the rain wash over his face before stepping under the ironwood branches. Marley shook himself somewhat like a large wet dog and joined him beneath the sheltering boughs.

“Were they all supposed to disappear like that?” Chayse asked as the runesmith finished pulling out the arrow still tangled in his cloak hood.

Marley blinked the rain out of his eyes and said, “They didn’t disappear. Take another look… if they aren’t gone, now.”

Chayse scanned the buildings where the rsakmorg archers hid. The archer’s bows lay on the ground along with their clothing, armor and various bags and pouches they carried. In the litter, a squirrel-like creature poked up its small head. Chayse squinted, craning his neck. He realized there were a double handful of the creatures. Confused, he turned back to his ally.

“Truth be told, I did not intend to transform them. I intended to reveal their location and disable their bows before allowing a little rain into their lives. Runic weaves on their own are more defensive or enhancing, but this…,” Marley said, spreading his hands, “this is something else.” He shook the water out of his cloak and slipped it back over his shoulders. “I think we need to head down to the bay and find our friends. That time the effects were in our favor, next time we might not be so lucky.”

“What do you mean next time?” Chayse asked as he took his cloak out of his pack and put it on.

“If these are part of the unit spotted earlier, the academy men will be close. If whatever twisted my rune’s purpose should again be triggered, what do you think might result from an aggressive weaving?” Marley asked as thunder punctuated the vision stirred by his question.

After a moment, in which Chayse allowed his imagination to conjure a dozen incarnations of vicious giant flying squirrels, the runesmith said, “Let’s move. The storm breaks.”

They skirted the perimeter of the plaza. Scarlet lightning threaded the clouds above them like the veins of some monstrous animal. The incessant rumble of thunder gave impetus to each sodden step as they hurried toward the business section.

“How will we find them? They don’t even know we’re looking, what with the storm and the nilmorg and the rsakmorg transforming.”

“Oh, they know, youngin’. As long as they were close enough, the dragonkin knew as soon as I used the rune. They have a connection to all the ethereal powers,” Marley said as they slid onto a side street filled with merchant shops built to accommodate the bigger races.

The rain no longer threatened to drown them, and Marley stopped in front of a shop toward the end of the street. Trying the door, he found it unlocked. With a slight nod, the runesmith slipped inside and motioned for the Chayse to do the same.

Chayse shut the door, glad to be out of the storm. He drew in a deep breath and stumbled, catching himself on a low counter. Nostalgia overwhelmed his senses for a moment as he glanced at the small clay jars filled with medicinals, herbs, and spices.

Marley pulled a rag from behind the counter to dry his face and hands. Then tossed it to him and asked. “Did Niun introduce you to the art of the apothecary?”

Chayse looked up from the pot of unguent he held, snatching the rag out of the air. He sniffed at the small container once more and said. “I know enough to keep from killing someone with the wrong choice of herbs… or… the opposite, although I’d barely begun my tutelage as an apprentice. Where are we?”

“This is Hefldeep’s Emporium of the Exotic and Mundane.”

“Thysl’s Hefldeep? The one with the boat? Is she an apothecary?”

“Aye, she is that and a lot more.” Marley tossed him a leather pouch. “If things haven’t changed, there are pieces of cloth on that sideboard. Take whatever you think will be handy to us and use the cloth to wrap them.”

“You’re not leavin’ me here, are ye?”

“Nay, but an herbalist I am not. Jakweed and Droxnettle are about the limit of my flower skills and using Tavir skills might not be available. I’m relying on your knowledge to help keep us well on our journey.” As he spoke, he stepped behind a curtain drawn across a hallway at the back of the shop.

He peeked back out and said, “Mind your step through here after you pack the bag. They did not make this part of the shop for tall folk.”

Chayse wanted to just shove a bunch of the jars and bottles into the pouch and follow the runesmith. Still, as he worked, Niun’s instructions whispered in the back of his mind. Unable to trust the lightning that too easily teased his eyes with the promise of light, only to pull it away time after time with a crack of thunder, he identified most of the bottles by smell.

He tried to take a good mix but knew under the circumstances a pinch and a guess would tell the tale, as Niun used to say. He had a feeling this man he followed spent a lot of his time pinching and guessing. Hopefully, he thought, Marley’s abilities at it were as good as his mentor’s. His mind flashed to his invisible pouch at his waist and Niun’s words of praise for the runesmith, wondering when the fates would allow him to tell the runesmith-bard of his own quest.

Chayse chuckled to himself as he thought about the time to come when the bard Marley Stonebender would most assuredly tell this tale. He slung the full pack over his shoulder and headed through the curtain, cracking his head on the forewarned first step. Light leaked from around a door at the end hall, left slightly ajar. He heard Marley rummaging within the room. Bending at the waist, he made his way along the short hallway to the room.

Chayse stood up straight, the ceiling a finger's width above his head. “Mek will never make it through here.” Confused, he scanned the room. Except for a few crates stacked in the center and a small living space in one corner, the room was without windows or another door. “What’s back here?”

“Umpt,” Marley grunted. “Nice of you to join me. I heard you introduce yourself to the hall jamb,” he chuckled. “This room my friend holds the door to our escape.”

Chayse grimaced at Marley’s teasing, his hand involuntarily moving to touch his head; he chewed back a response and waited for the runesmith to expound on the invisible door.

“No need to worry about Mek. The dragonkin will make sure he gets to the ship. Now,” Marley said, rubbing his hands together as he stepped past Chayse. “Stand back by those crates there and we will be on our way shortly.”

Marley stood with his face almost against the back wall and then paced backward a handful of steps. He peered into his bag of runes; light leaking from the opening like a bit of captured star glow. He shrugged at Chayse’s wide-eyed astonishment as he pulled a shimmering Sapphire out before putting the bag away.

“It is enchanted,” he said, giving him a wink.

“But I thought we were worried about the unstable essence twisting your runes.”

“Unstable essence, eh? Humph, so it seems. Sometimes you have to weigh your options. We don’t want to get caught out in the open or I will be forced to use a lot more than a reveal rune for an invisible door.”

Marley dropped the stone, the words he spoke somehow lost in the moment. The gem spun in place as a line of glittering light snaked out of it to the right and left. Each line stretched out an arm’s length before making a corner and racing toward the wall.

With the outline of the door complete, the runesmith bent over and snatched the spinning jewel off the floor. He clenched his hand and when he opened it, he splayed his fingers and blew a shimmering sprinkle of dust out from his palm. The dust hung in the air for a moment before disappearing.

“We have a short while before the rune’s power is expelled, and the door disappears, so when it opens step lively son.”

Chayse stepped carefully around the glowing outline. “How do you open it?”

Marley mumbled something under his breath about taking on apprentices that do not know the first thing about wards, runes, or invisible doors. Then he reached down and touched the door. It clicked like a tumbler on a chest falling into place, and the runesmith pulled it open. Chayse peered through the opening; stairs meant for smaller legs disappeared into the shadows below him.

“Shake a leg there, boy, and get down the stairs. It’s there as an escape and won’t stay open long.